Weaving a Song

Chapter 105

"And you can do such?" The Messenger asked.

"Now that we know you hold no captive, we will take these for our friend." Gandalf said quickly grabbing the bundle out of the Messenger's arms. "And we ask for Sauron's surrender. Nothing less, faithless and accursed. Begone!"

The Messenger laughed no more. "So be it." He said and turned his horse. But Sauron had one more trap to spring, and as the gates opened and drums rolled and fires leaped the company was forced back to avoid the army of Sauron.

Legolas, however, was being dragged back by Gandalf as he struggled to get to his sister and she stayed standing in front of the open gates. "No, let me go!"

Haldir looked similarly affected but he was frozen, face drawn and pale. He looked like he knew what was going on but someone had grabbed his horse and was dragging it back to the rest of the companies. Then everyone froze and Gandalf realized why Haldir had.

The eye had reshaped and was coming down from its tower. It came in the image of a man, a fiery man, but a man, and everyone's hearts stopped for a moment. Sauron had come. And his armies were surrounding them.

*

Their endless battles and chasing had come to an end. They had discovered that the Orcs has received reinforcements and had turned and stood their ground more stubbornly. Now they were at a stalemate, deaths on both sides. Thranduil was riding toward the front, as much as Taenron would allow. His Guard covered him from above and beside him. They were still losing less than the Orcs were, and unless Sauron gained his own back, they would win this battle. All of the Elves were determined of that.

Everything had been calm for the moment, the Elvenking riding toward the oncoming advances. Then his horse had started to slow. The other Elves around him stopped as well, and Taenron gasped as he saw what approached. So far they had been assaulted by Orcs, Wargs, and Spiders only, but now a giant Troll lingered in front of them, blocking their way and taunting Thranduil with his mace as he swung it round and round and round...

*

Sauron stood still as his armies began the battle with the King of Gondor. For the moment he let his armies take his vengeance on Isildur's line. He had another concern that he was now currently eyeing with disgust.

The Princess of Mirkwood.

His eyes held a bare hatred for her that seemed like it should extend to more than just her, but it went no further than hatred pure and simple for her bloodline. It had started with Thranduil when he had announced distrust for whatever this Annatar was planning on doing when Celebrimbor had told the Elvenking they were forging things of great power. It had only increased when Thranduil's people had disappeared into the woods. Even more when they reappeared only to fight alongside Gil-galad and thus almost double the alliance in size.

Then it was once more Thranduil who stood in his way as Dol Gulder's power grew. Then it was his daughter saving all but the Queen. Then it was Almiel again when she went with Mithrandir to rescue three prisoners and confirm his identity. Then it was Legolas when he went to fight with the rest of the Fellowship. And then Thranduil had driven his warriors in Mirkwood back. And now at last, the Princess was standing before him again, effectively standing in his way to interfere in the battle ahead of them.

"Your cursed bloodline will die this day." Sauron hissed at her. "First you, and then your brother, and then I will personally fly to Mirkwood and draw the last breath for your cursed father simply for your bloodline's audacity."

"I wish you well then, if that is truly what you intend. I think you underestimate the power a vengeance filled angry version of my father who would have just lost everything would have. I am not sure you would survive, and then all of this would be for nothing." Almiel answered. Sauron hissed again.