~The battle ends, and Aerneth must face the consequences of her actions.~

oOo

Unnumbered Tears

On the sixth morning since Fingon had left Barad Eithel, two of the hosts finally met as Turgon came to Fingon's and Húrin's aid. Aerneth witnessed the happy reunion of the elven brothers as well as the reunion of Húrin and Turgon who had known each other in Gondolin. In the midst of everything, they found a moment's joy.

With great relief, Aerneth ended the connection with Turgon, again back to only two bowls.

The battle instantly turned in Fingon's favour; with Gondolin's great numbers and strong weapons behind him he could finally push back the orcs. In addition, Maedhros was almost there now too, Fingon and Turgon saw the cloud of dust announcing the rapid progress of their cousin's troops.

This was when Morgoth released his real strength.

"No..." whispered Maedhros, his face ashen as he stared at something in the distance. "The dragon... he has multiplied! The Valar protect us! Glaurung is leading his brood hither – a crowd of smaller dragons."

Dragons. Aerneth went cold, for she could see them herself now, despite the distance – that was how huge they were. One of those fire-breathing monsters was bad enough, and here came several.

Right then Fingon cried from the other bowl: "Balrogs and wargs are coming at us from the north! Their numbers are countless."

Aerneth's stomach twisted painfully. This would not work. Dragons and balrogs! The balrogs were twisted Maiar with immense powers, both magical and physical. They wielded deadly whips of liquid fire, and their frames were surrounded by smoke and shadow.

Wargs, although less deadly, were fast and strong, twice the size of normal wolves and possessed with evil spirits making them both fearless and bloodthirsty.

"I have to fall back," said Maedhros grimly. "I have no chance of beating the dragons in the open, but if I can lure them south between the cliffs of the Pass they cannot attack all at once. I hope Fingon and Turgon can manage alone."

"They are facing balrogs and wargs," said Aerneth.

"Damn!" swore Maedhros. "I will try to get to them, but the dragons are between us."

Suddenly there was some disturbance, Aerneth could hear screams and yells from the ranks surrounding Fëanor's son. His face disappeared for a short while and then returned. "I have to close this temporarily," he said hurriedly. "Some of the Easterling humans are attacking our rear. I am betrayed by my allies – I should have known they were all rotten when they brought false news of Fingon. Treacherous pigs!"

When he had gone, Aerneth stared at the empty water. It was all coming apart. They would lose.

In the other bowl Fingon was fighting again, she heard growls from the wargs and saw glimpses of matted fur and glowing eyes. Then he too disappeared as the bowl was beaten from his hands, but this time another caught it, an ellon Aerneth did not know.

"The king is fighting the leader of the balrogs," the ellon reported through clenched teeth. He seemed to be on the ground, sitting or lying, and blood poured from a deep gash cleaving half of his face. "The fight is over for me, I shall die soon," he continued impassively. Then he smiled crookedly, unable to move the damaged part of his face. "King Fingon appears to be winning. It's... I have never seen anyone fight like that." He looked awed. "The balrog is bleeding now and takes a step backwards, and my lord king is onto him. His sword moves so fast it looks blurred – or maybe that is from the blood in my eye. The balrog retreats again and ouch! Good hit. The king stabbed his foot. Now the balrog tries to lift his axe but the king sweeps it away with his sword. That sword is some good quality! And now– No! Another balrog joins the fight. He caught Fingon with his whip. The Valar help him... The balrog leader lifts his black axe." The ellon silenced. A loud clang made him flinch and shudder. "He is dead. The balrog cut his head in halves, right through his helmet." His voice was strangled. "They are trampling him and his banner into the dust. The monsters... the monsters!" He rose shakily and with a roar he left, making one last, mad dash against the offenders. "For Fingooon!" The cry ended abruptly.

In the abandoned bowl Aerneth now saw nothing but the sky as the sounds of the battle continued around it. The grievous moans from the wounded shook her to her core.

She did not want to hear any more and closed the connection. Crawling away from the empty bowls she huddled against the cool stone wall, biting her knuckle as her mind raced. Fingon was dead. What was she to do? They were losing. Should she abandon her post and try to flee back to Doriath?

Before she had time to decide, she again heard battle sounds, this time coming from outside the fortress. She peered through the battlements. What remained of the western host came slowly closer, fighting still but being forced backwards step by step.

Hugely relieved, she discerned Turgon's and her father's banners in the chaotic mass of elves, humans, orcs, wargs and balrogs. They were nearing the wetlands east of the Pass of Sirion, probably trying to protect the way south. If Morgoth gained access to the Pass, all of Beleriand would be open to him.

Aerneth.

It was Turgon's scout. Was it Faraion his name was? Or Faron? She could not remember. With a sigh Aerneth went back to the bowl. She did not really want to hear his news because she knew they would be bad, but of course she had to, Turgon might contact her again and he would want to know how the situation was in the east.

The ellon who looked back at her was almost unrecognisable from the one she had talked to before. He seemed physically unhurt, but something had frightened the wits out of him, and his cheeks were so pale he seemed near fainting.

"I saw Glaurung," he whispered through trembling lips. His hands holding the bowl must shake badly as well, it made his face oddly distorted from the ripples. "I looked him in the eye."

"I am sorry for you," said Aerneth, trying to sound comforting. "Can you tell me how Maedhros fares? Did he manage to beat the humans who turned on him?"

"He was bigger than my house back home. And it has three floors so it's not small."

"I see. Where is the dragon now?" Aerneth tried not to let her impatience show. She wanted to return to the battlements so she could see what happened in the Pass.

"The dwarves fight him. But they will lose. Nothing can beat him. He will burn us all to ashes, or maybe he will fry us lightly and then devour us. I know not what I would prefer." Tears were trickling down his cheeks. It was always hard to tell another's age, but Aerneth got the impression that this ellon was very young, perhaps not even ten decades.

"And Maedhros? Where is he?"

"Gone. They are all gone. Only I am left. I am hiding under a rock. But the dragons will smell me and come for me soon. Then I shall burn."

"Gone where?" Valar, getting information out of this ellon was worse work than hauling a swan ship ashore.

"Dead, most of them. Heaps and heaps of corpses. Humans, elves. Heaps. But the sons of Fëanor went to the mountains. They fled."

"Stay there, I have to check on Turgon and my ada." Aerneth went back to the wall and peered through the opening. Both banners remained up, thank the Valar. They had almost come to the river now.

The mist! She could help them hide. Singing a quick prayer to Uinen, Aerneth begged her to help Turgon and his troops.

The Maia's reply was swift, a warm, comforting presence in her mind.

I will try, my dear. But I fear their enemies are too many this time.

Instantly grey clouds formed over the river, spreading out to cover the western host and their surroundings. From the balrogs, wargs and orcs who chased them came howls of disappointment. It was something, at least. A moment's respite.

After a while she felt her father's voice in her head. Hurrying back to the bowls, she connected with him. "Ada! I am so glad you are alive."

Círdan was kneeling on the shore of the Sirion, peering down at her in its water. He looked as tired as Aerneth felt and was dirty and dishevelled.

"We are losing, Aerneth. The host will split up – Turgon and Húrin have just settled it among them. The humans mean to stay here and guard the Pass alone. A suicide mission, but they insist. Saying the world needs us – that elves bring them hope. Turgon is returning to Gondolin and I will take what remains of our people and return to Hithlum and our ships there. Thanks to your mist I should be able to get to the fortress and pick you up – unless you would prefer to return to Doriath? Captain Mablung is taking the remains of his march-wardens there, and Lady Galadriel and Lord Celeborn are going with them. The enemy seems reluctant to enter the fog so I think it should be a fairly safe passage south for as long as Uinen can keep it up."

"Nay. I– I will go with you."

"Good. We must hurry back to the Falas and fortify our cities against the Dark Lord, for I am certain he will come after us, seeking revenge – just as you saw in Galadriel's mirror. Meet me outside the fortress, I will be there soon." He disappeared.

"Aerneth!" It was the ellon in the other bowl. "The dragon! The dwarves hurt him and he's retreating! The dragons are crawling back from where they came, all of them."

"That is good news." She tried to smile. It was useless, the war was still lost.

"The dwarves are leaving, though. Their leader was killed in the fight. So I shall be all alone." He sighed forlornly.

"Go south to the Pass of Aglon, and then west until you reach Doriath. Tell them that you come from Gondolin, then I am sure they will allow you in. You will be safe there. It is an underground city."

"Really? Maybe I will try that. Thank you."

"I must close this now, I am leaving the fortress."

Aerneth gathered the few belongings she had brought and went downstairs. When she opened the heavy gate she felt horribly exposed, expecting wargs or balrogs to assault her at any moment, but they still seemed to be far away, the sounds that drifted to her from the Pass were faint.

Then she heard the pounding of hooves. A rider was approaching, but who could it be? Círdan and the other Falathrim had come on their swan ships, they had not brought horses.

Her breath hitched. Was it the enemy? But this sounded like a horse, not a warg.

A shape emerged from the mist. When she recognised him her mouth went dry and her heart began to pound. It was too soon! She was not prepared!

"Aerneth!" Thranduil jumped off the horse and ran the last way, catching her in a hard hug. He smelled of sweat and his hair was tangled.

"Why are– How did you get here?"

"You did not reply. I called you over and over, but you were not there. I thought–" He hugged her harder, she had to struggle to breathe.

"I was just busy. I had so many connections open... I couldn't..."

"I understand. Think no more of it. I am so relieved you are alive! I left without asking permission, I just went. I have been riding day and night to get here. Then I came across Lord Círdan and he said you were here! Oh sweet Elbereth. Thank the Valar. Blessed be Ulmo and his Maiar and anyone else who helped you." He cupped her cheeks and kissed her, a deep, needy kiss.

The taste of his lips was bittersweet; only a few days ago another ellon's lips had caressed hers and she had allowed it.

"Come home with me, please. My adar did not mean what he said. And if he did we will live somewhere else. I need you."

Seeing his face completely open like this, Aerneth felt a wave of love mingled with a remorse so strong it threatened to choke her. Why had she been so weak, so stupid? She had ruined it all.

"There is something I need to say," she murmured.

"Me too! I should have told you years ago but I was so blind. Only after I lost you did I understand my heart."

Aerneth forced her gaze not to waver. She knew what would come. Something she had longed to hear for so long.

"I love you Aerneth."

She could not reply, no words came out. How could she confess to him after this?

His eyes narrowed slightly. "What were you going to say?"

"That I missed you too," she said quickly, her voice hoarse.

He peered at her intently, clearly suspicious now. The openness from before was disappearing fast. She hated herself for doing this to him.

"Shall we go then?" She kissed him to avoid those far too perceptive eyes.

He did not respond, instead he took a step back, his gaze sharp as swords. "What did you do?" When she did not reply he grabbed her shoulders. "Tell me what you did!" he yelled.

"I kissed an ellon." There. It was out.

Thranduil stared at her in disbelief, his features shifting from shocked to deeply hurt. Then came raw anger. His grip on her shoulders was painful now, but she allowed it. She deserved it.

"Punish me," she whispered.

He clenched his hand into a fist and she almost thought he would hit her. Instead he rammed it straight into the stone wall of the fortress, roaring out his pain. "Who is it? Tell me who it is. I will kill him." He loomed over her, his fist still clenched. It had bruised, his knuckles were swelling.

Then he suddenly straightened up, drawing several breaths, his face settling into the cool mask she despised so much. "Return to your lover if you will. I do not care."

No, not this! Not this coldness, she could not bear it. "He's not my lover! Please, Thranduil, don't look at me like that. Be mad if you want, anything but this glass face!"

He just stared at her haughtily, almost contemptuously.

"I'm so sorry! It was only one kiss. He didn't know I was married, and I was so afraid and tired and lonely and I know it's no excuse but..." When he still would not reply she shook him. "Stop it! Just stop it!"

That got her a reaction at last. His rage returned in full might and again he slammed his fist into the wall. "Can't you understand how much you hurt me? You left me, running away to a war you did not have to fight, one that could have killed you. Can't you understand how that felt for me? You left me. And now you tell me you found another."

She shuddered as the dam burst and the full flood of his emotions hit her.

"I don't want to feel this pain, can't you understand that? I don't want to love someone who abandons me." His eyes became misty. "That's how ellith are. You leave those who love you, abandon them. Like my naneth. Had she loved me, she would not have left."

"Calm down. It was an accident... She didn't abandon you and neither did I."

"She left me. You both left me!" He was shaking her but seemed not aware of it. "You want me to show emotions? I will show you emotions. Is this how you want me to be? Is it my anger you want to see? Do you want a husband who frightens you? You are trembling. I scare you. But you said you wanted it."

"I'm not afraid of you! If I tremble it's because I'm angry too. It was just one kiss, and aye I know it was wrong, but you are overreacting! I didn't abandon you; you could have come with me to battle. It was the right thing to do. But you would only listen to your ada. Every day you are turning more into a copy of him, Oropherion. No wonder your nana left Doriath with two such ellyn in the house!"

Everything had become dead silent as she spoke, with only the distant sounds of battle from afar. Thranduil's face was white as a sheet.

What had she said? She had not meant it.

"Naneth's death was no accident." He had lowered his voice almost to a whisper, and it was teeming with ice cold fury and grief. "She killed herself."

"I'm sorry... I didn't know..."

"My naneth left us, but it was not Adar's fault." He looked absolutely murderous now. "If you ever accuse him of that again, I shall–"

For the first time Aerneth felt a twinge of fear, but she refused to let it show. "Do what? Hit me like he did?"

Colour returned to his face and his hands dropped from her shoulders like she had burned him. "I would never hit you."

"Then why do you keep protecting him? A wife beater."

"Shut up!"

"He killed your nana! If she killed herself it was his fault!"

"Please! Just stop..." His voice was distorted.

But Aerneth was furious now. How dared he threaten her? How dared he choose his abusive father over her, again and again? "I hate him," she yelled. "And I hate you." She put her face close to his, the words tumbling out of her mouth. "I don't love you anymore. Maybe I once thought I did, but I was wrong. You hear me? It was never true." That was a lie, but she wanted him to hurt. To feel the same pain that she felt. "You should have protected me, but you didn't. Not me, and not your nana."

His loud sob made her flinch and return to her senses. Tears were trickling down his cheeks, making lines in the grime. Thranduil never cried.

What had she done? Such harsh, ugly words could never be unsaid.

She took a step back, looking at her husband in shocked silence. His tearful gaze was anguished, but now he set his jaw hard; anger and pain mingling in his features.

"We are bad for each other," he said at last.

She nodded mutely. He was right. They were.

"Return to Eglarest with your adar. I am going home." He mounted his horse in a swift leap and galloped away.

❈ ❦ ❈

A/N:

I feel I keep blacken my poor main characters... first cheating, now fighting... This is almost becoming an elvish version of Breaking Bad. But I hope you feel they are not impossibly ruined yet. Unlike humans, elves have long lives to atone for their sins and hopefully grow wiser.

Image Credits:

Screenshot from the Hobbit movies