"Stay behind me," Gil-Galad insisted, shoving Elrond back.
Elrond defiantly stepped back in front of Gil-Galad's path. "I am your herald, I go before you!"
"Elrond." Gil-Galad pulled the younger elf away from Elendil and the others. "Elrond, I do not know if this plan is going to work. It goes against every strategy I have planned, but I honestly do not know if we have another choice. Now," he said as calmly as he could, "what I need you to do is bear witness to what happens, and listen carefully to the words I say."
Elrond nodded reluctantly, lowering his sword. He stared, unblinking, into the patient eyes of his friend and mentor. Not far away, he could hear the sounds of horses- the cavalry was charging, just as he had ordered Erestor and Glorfindel to. One last chance, one final strike. The loss of Oropher and most of Greenwood's troops had been devastation and lowered the morale substantially. Some elves spoke of leaving and sailing now; others, such as himself, merely thought it. Gil-Galad, however, was ready to make one last stand, to take the chance most would not. Elrond would go with him.
"Yes, I know you would," chuckled Gil-Galad. "You would follow me to the fires of doom if I asked. But that is not what I need you to do." His voice became solemn once more. "I need for you to follow my instructions. If I fall-"
"You, fall? You are our King, you are-"
"Elrond, I have not the time for poetics," apologized Gil-Galad. "If I fall," he repeated, "get as many out as you can. He will revel in his defeat, but that will give you some time to fall back and take what ships you can find. Go north if you must, but get as many out as you can."
"We are not going to just leave them," argued Elrond.
"If it is their fate-"
"Then it is my fate as well!"
"Elrond." Gil-Galad shook his head. "Elrond, do not be foolish. If you die- Elrond, you are peredhel, you will not come back."
"Neither of us know that for certain. I am not about to let my brother's kin perish, and with them all of mankind!"
"Then hope that the outcome is not the first. Now listen," Gil-Galad said again, grasping Elrond by the shoulders. "Listen," he repeated as the horses' hooves pounded rock and mud. "Elrond, if I fall, but if we should defeat him-"
"Stop saying that!"
"Then listen to me, and I will not have to! If we take him down and I fall, you must make sure that the ring is destroyed. The ring must be destroyed!"
"How?"
"In the fires!" Gil-Galad pointed toward the volcanic rumbling. "Take it to the center and throw it into the flames, but do not keep it."
The rumble of the horses closed in on them quickly as the few elves still upon their mounts came to their position. "My lord, word comes from King Elendil, he wishes to strike after our next pass," shouted the dark haired rider. "He awaits your-" Erestor was cut off abruptly and dropped from his horse as a short spear lanced through his left arm, the impact causing him to lose his reigns and balance.
"Glorfindel!" Elrond waved an arm toward his other captain, still upon his steed, and pointed toward some rocks as two more elves were taken down off their horses. Elrond and Gil-Galad made their way to the elf on the ground, who was more angry than he was injured.
"Bloody orcs, think they could aim better," spat out the elf on the ground, clutching his arm where the spear had lodged itself. "I suppose I should consider myself lucky that he did not hit my better writing arm," he added.
"I have to pull it the rest of the way," answered Elrond, giving the dark brown eyes an apologetic look. "I hate to have to do it."
There was a nod. "I doubted you were going to find it a pleasurable experience. Truth be told, I am not expecting it to be a picnic, either," he said, gritting his teeth as Gil-Galad took hold of the hand of his injured arm, while Elrond placed one of his upon the shoulder of the same arm. Grasping the bloodied side of the weapon, he yanked it the rest of the way through, then quickly bandaged the wound as well as he could. "Go, go do what you need to, I am useless now," insisted Erestor. "Just go, I will be here when you get back."
"I do not doubt that," Elrond said, handing the spear that had pierced him back to the elf on the ground, who grasped it with the hand of his good arm.
"As will I," said Glorfindel, riding back up. In one hand, he held the head of an orc by the hair.
"Must you do that?" complained the injured elf.
Glorfindel held up the head to eye level and sneered at it, then threw it over his shoulder. "You want me to do something with the snipers other than kill them? Drag them here to be insulted by you, perhaps?"
"Glorfindel, we need to attack now. You are going to have to lead the cavalry around while we attack Sauron."
"What? Ereinion, are you mad?" Glorfindel did not watch those crouched on the ground, but the paths that led to where they were, and the rocks and piles of bodies where enemies could be hiding. He coughed on the dust and smoke and said, "That is ten times worse than throwing yourself at a balrog! And I know! The heat alone will kill you!"
"We have to try! We are running out of soldiers, running out of time!" answered Gil-Galad as Glorfindel side-stepped his horse to keep from being an easy target.
Erestor sat up. "Get me back onto my horse, then. I will go after him, I am nearly a casualty as it is."
"No!" shouted all three, and a fourth voice. Another elf ran up, close to the ground, to join the group. She threw off her dented helmet to reveal her fiery red hair. "I can ride, let me lead the other half of the cavalry around."
"Mount up!" commanded Glorfindel, whistling for the fallen elf's horse. "For a minute there Valarda, I thought YOU were going offer to ride up against the dark lord," he grinned.
"Lady Galadriel is still upset Ada and I are here, no need to get her royally pissed because I decided to go end the war myself."
"Such language you have learned in the company of men, m'lady," joked Glorfindel. He lifted the horn that hung from his side and blew it to signal a second charge, then lifted the flag pole from the stirrup and held it high. "I will be right back," he said to the injured elf.
"I do not doubt that."
"Do not go running off."
"I have no intention of that, Fin."
"You would do it just to spite me."
"Will you lead the bloody charge already, or I am going to put a hole the size of the one in my arm through your head! Not that you would notice," he grumbled.
"Good! If nothing else, your humor is still intact, counselor!" Glorfindel spurred his horse, and not a moment too soon as a volley of arrows rained down near where he had been.
"I hate to leave you-"
"Oh, Elrond, not you, too!" The dark elf pushed Elrond away with his right hand. "Go! Gil-Galad's already going to beat you to the glory!"
"Gil-Galad?" Elrond turned and looked to see Gil-Galad had followed right behind the charge of the cavalry, with Elendil, Isildur, and a few others coming in from the other side. The cavalry swept the path clear for the small group to race forward to their doom.
- - -
"DARO!" Haldir was clutching his stuffed horse to him, eyes huge. He was pale and had his back up against the headboard, and was looking up fearfully at Elrond. "Do not tell me the rest!"
"Why not?"
"Because I do not want him to die!" Haldir sobbed. "I want him to go fishing on the beach again and I want him to throw Aiglos at the target on the archery field. And I want him to talk to you and everyone else, but I do not want him to die." Haldir's words became inaudible as his sobs turned to outright wails, and he cried into his stuffed horse. "He is gonna die... and... and the other elf... that got... hurt... he is gonna die... and... and..."
Celebrian came into the room suddenly, tilting her head and frowning at the scene before her. "Why are you crying now, silly elfling?" she asked, approaching the bed.
"Be-case-Gil-Ga-lad's-gon-na-die," he said between choked breaths. Uncharacteristically, he dropped his horse and reached out to grab hold of his sister, who just as uncharacteristically scooped him up into her lap. She gave Elrond a puzzled look.
"It is my fault," he mumbled. "I was trying to... make a point, and he is obviously too young. I am not very good with children sometimes," he trailed off, making to stand up and leave. The young elleth placed a hand on his shoulder, and he felt compelled to stay.
"Haldir," spoke Celebrian. "Haldir, it is just a story."
Haldir shook his head, his crying diminished. "It is real and true and he was there," he added, pointing an accusing finger at Elrond.
"Haldir," began Celebrian again, "it is a story because it already happened. It can not happen again. It is over with, and though it is sad, there is a happy ending, because Gil-Galad was an elf, and I think, because of the good he did, that the Valar will send him back again. Now, you do want to know everything about Gil-Galad, right?" Haldir nodded. "Well, not everything is going to be good, but if you want to know the whole story, you have to listen to the bad things to get to the good things. Do you want me to stay here while you listen to the rest of the story?"
Haldir thought for a moment and finally nodded his head. "Yes, because he will not try to scare you," he decided, scooting closer to Celebrian, who held him firmly on her lap as she nodded for Elrond to finish his tale.
