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Title & Chapter Number: Journey From Darkness 9/10
Author(s): - Author's Index
Website: Tortured Scribes
Fandom: Tolkien
Rating: NC-17
Disclaimer: All things Tolkien belong to his estate; I only borrow them on occasion and always return them in good working order. I write fan fiction solely for my own enjoyment and do not claim any copyright or ownership of his works nor do I have intent to make financial gain. All original concepts and characters are from my own twisted plot bunnies and remain my property.
Warnings: None
Betas: Jay Foppins, Hedda, and Robin
Cast: Tolkien's Elves, Glorfindel and Original Elven Characters
Timeline: AU; Pre-Lord of the Rings - The year 3320 of the Second Age
Spoilers: Some for `The Silmarillion' and other Tolkien works.
Summary: One group of the Moriquendi is on the verge of extinction. One lone girl makes a desperate journey to seek help from the Eldar of Imladris.
Notes: Please note that I am changing canon somewhat for the purposes of this story. There is much debate to whether Glorfindel of Gondolin and Glorfindel of Rivendell were one and the same. It seems that Tolkien left notes that they indeed were, so I will bow to the master's wishes and write my tale with that belief firmly in place. The Elvish is a mix of Quenya (High or Court Elvish) and Sindarin (Common Elvish). They are marked with an asterisk (*) and their definitions can be found at the bottom of each chapter.


Chapter Nine: Devotion

Faile spent most of the night instructing Gil-galad on the Moriquendi* customs. It was vitally important that the rest of her people see him following their traditions. She was thankful for his dark hair and gray eyes; if he had been blond, it would have made his acceptance harder.

Finally, Faile pronounced him ready to face the trials. Gil-galad thanked her and went to search out Elrond. He found him tending to the injured.

Elrond smiled as Gil-galad approached him. "My Lord, is there anything you need?"

"A moment of your time, Elrond." He motioned for Elrond to join him in a quiet corner.

"What is it, my Lord?" Elrond asked. He could see that something was bothering Gil-galad.

"I want you to hold on to something for me." Gil-galad reached out and grabbed Elrond's hand. He dropped something into his palm and closed Elrond's fingers over it.

Elrond opened his hand and looked. There sat Vilya, the mightiest of the Three Elven Rings of Power. Its gold band and great sapphire sparkled in the torchlight. "My Lord, I cannot take this ring." He tried to hand it back to Gil-galad.

Gil-galad held up his hands and refused to accept the ring. "Hush, Cousin. You will take the Ring for you are my chosen successor. If I fall today, you will have to lead our people." He smiled fondly at Elrond.

Elrond nodded in shock and watched as Gil-galad left the room. In a moment of clarity, he knew that the day would come when Vilya would indeed rest upon his finger. He silently prayed to Ilúvatar that today would not be it.

~*~*~*~

The twilight hour was upon them, and the entire population turned out on the battlements to watch the proceedings. The hopefuls were called forward to stand in the center of the courtyard.

Gil-galad had removed his armor and was clad, like the other candidates, in a simple tunic and leggings. His only weapon was Faile's mithril knife that she had insisted that he use, it as it was stronger than his own.

The eldest member of the tribe stood upon the battlements and looked down at the four Elves who had stepped forward. "Before you stand the challengers for the Kingship. Let them call forth their deeds of worth."

The first contender stepped forward. "I am Túrelio, Alpha of the Lyg* pack. I have seen battles upon the walls and fields of our home. I have defended our borders and hunted for food. I challenge for the Kingship."

He stepped back and the next in line took his place. "I am Toron. I am the Alpha of the Brôg* pack. My pack is the top pack, the best at hunting and defending our people. I have seen battles longer than many of you have been alive. I challenge for the Kingship, because I am the only one worthy to hold it."

There was a murmuring among the crowd of onlookers. To announce one's deeds was acceptable; to boast about them was not.

The next candidate stepped forward. "I am Ando, Alpha of the Aras* pack. I have seen battles upon the walls and fields of our home. I have defended our borders and hunted for food. I challenge for the Kingship."

Then it was Gil-galad's turn. He stepped forward and recited the words Faile had taught him. "I am Gil-galad, High King of the Noldor. I have seen battles upon the fields of your home. I have seen battles beyond the valley walls. I have come to bring hope and peace to you. I challenge for the Kingship." He stepped back.

The elder nodded and looked around him at the crowd. "There stand the challengers for the Kingship. They have called forth their deeds of worth. If any of you find fault with them, speak now."

"I find fault with the Outsider," an Elf stepped forward. "I am Sardo, Beta of the Brôg pack. I say he cannot challenge for he is not one of us."

The elder paused to consider Sardo's words. "Will any step forward in his defense?"

Faile had been waiting for this moment. She had anticipated that Toron would seek to have Gil-galad dismissed from the trials. The candidates could not find fault in one another, but they could get one of their packs to do so. "I say that he can challenge." Her voice rung out strong and clear. "Our laws are simple. The only ban upon the challenge of Kingship is age. Gil-galad is of an age to challenge. There is no law forbidding Outsiders from the trials. He has spoken of his deeds, and they are worthy of a candidate. He should be allowed to join in the trials."

"Faile has been long among the Outsiders. She is tainted and cannot speak for him." Sardo argued.

"I have not been among the Outsiders, yet I say that Faile speaks the truth of our laws," the elder interrupted Sardo. "Gil-galad shall stand as a candidate. Let the first trial begin."

The gatekeeper turned the great wheel and the gates slowly opened. The elder spoke again. "At the edge of this valley stands a great tree. Select a single fruit from its boughs and return here."

The challengers trotted through the gates and across the field beyond to disappear in the foliage. The masses on the walls began to return to the cavern. It would be a while before any of the challengers returned, if they did at all.

Elrond and Glorfindel looked over at Faile. She was standing, looking out into the gloom.

"What is the purpose of this trial?" Elrond asked, unable to keep the twinge of nervousness from his voice.

"They go forth alone, with only a knife and their wits to defend themselves. This challenge will prove their intelligence and bravery. The first to return with the fruit is declared the winner."

"How will Gil-galad be able to compete? He doesn't know the valley and is at a severe disadvantage." Glorfindel was beginning to think that this was a stupid idea.

Faile looked over at him and smiled. "Don't underestimate him. I've made the journey myself several times. In fact, the reason my father won this challenge is because he sent me forth to find the quickest route."

Glorfindel laughed lightly. "Isn't that cheating?"

Faile shrugged, "We like to call it delegating. There is a path known only to me. It is dangerous and often overlooked, but will serve Gil-galad well."

~*~*~*~

Gil-galad looked at the small hole in the hedge of thorns and cursed. Faile must be insane if she thought he would be able to crawl his way through it. He looked to either side of him and realized that to go around either of the two great bogs would make him lose precious time. He had no choice, but to go through the thorns.

He cursed as they tore and dug into his body. He pressed forward with his head down to protect his face. He had thought to tuck his long hair into his tunic, but it was still snagged by the thorns. Just when he thought he could go no further, the tunnel opened and he had crawled out onto the sandy path that ran between the bogs.

He leapt to his feet and sprinted between the bogs towards the great tree in the distance.

~*~*~*~

There was a resounding cheer from the battlements as the first of the candidates ran across the great battlefield towards the gates. It was Gil-galad, to the surprise of many. He entered the courtyard and handed his piece of fruit to the elder.

"You have done well. Surprisingly well for an Outsider." The elder smiled and handed the fruit to one of the nearby children.

Gil-galad found Glorfindel and Faile on the battlements. "You did not tell me how small the tunnel of thorns actually was, Faile."

"And if I had, would you have chosen to take that path?" she asked with a twinkle in her eyes.

"No, I would not have," Gil-galad said in a disgruntled tone.

"That is why I did not tell you. Besides, it did not hurt you to have a little flesh torn from your royal hide."

Glorfindel threw back his head and laughed.

Gil-galad merely frowned at them. "Keep laughing, Glorfindel. I can still try to win the prize for myself."

Glorfindel stopped laughing and stared at his King. He knew he was referring to Faile. He was just about to challenge his statement, when he caught the mirth in Gil-galad's eyes. He simply smiled and nodded repentantly.

~*~*~*~

Toron was not happy when he returned home to find that he had arrived second. He knew that he was better than Túrelio and Ando, but the Outsider was an unknown factor. He would not lose the Kingship to an Outsider. He had waited for the Saurihos* to strike, and during the heat of battle, he had killed Titton. A crime punishable by death and now this Outsider was threatening everything.

~*~*~*~

Ando never returned from the valley. A hunting pack found his remains near a pool of water, and it was obvious that a water beast had attacked him. He was buried with much honor and ceremony at the edge of the battlefield.

The candidates stood upon the battlements in preparation for the next trial. They were each given a bow and three arrows. The task was a simple one. They had to shoot a target in the distance.

Gil-galad could barely make out the target in the darkness. His eyes were keen, but not as adjusted to the perpetual night as his competitors'. He was at a severe disadvantage.

Toron fired his arrows first, and each found its mark in the center of the target. A great cheer went up among his pack, and he walked from the battlements as if he were already king.

Then it was Túrelio's turn to shoot. His first arrow impacted in the center of the target. His second in the next ring, but his third was caught by a blast of air and missed completely.

Then it was Gil-galad's turn. He had to not only hit the target with all three of his arrows, but two must hit the center in order to still have a chance.

He drew back and fired the first arrow. He looked over to Faile, who was standing nearby with her pack. Roitar looked back from the target and whispered in Faile's ear.

"You hit the outer ring, my Lord," Faile said softly. She made a subtle motion with her hand, letting him know he needed to raise his aim.

Gil-galad sent a silent prayer to Ilúvatar and notched his next arrow. He raised his aim and fired. The arrow sailed through the air, and Roitar let out a shout. Gil-galad knew that he had hit the center.

The tension was thick as he notched his last arrow. If he missed this shot, then he would not advance to the final trial. He drew back and fired.

There was a triumphant howl from Faile's pack as they rushed forward and tackled Gil-galad. "You hit the center," Faile cried as she impacted him.

Elrond and Glorfindel could only laugh at the sight of Gil-galad beneath what could only be termed as a puppy pile. Arms and legs were everywhere and laughter filled the air as Gil-galad wrestled and battled his way to the top of the pile.

~*~*~*~

It was the next day, and the sky was beginning to lighten to a dusky twilight. Gil-galad stood naked except for a loincloth that wound between his legs and around his waist. Toron stood five feet from him, dressed in the same manner. They each had a knife. They were standing in the center of the great courtyard, the people of Mar Mordollo* filled the battlements and outer edges of the courtyard.

The elder once again began the trials. "The two before you have proven their worth and shall now fight for the Kingship. Let the final trial begin."

"The one who rules must be strong, not weak. I will rule by right of first blood," Toron called out. He had changed the words of the ritual again, and it was met with disapproving looks.

"The one who rules must be strong, not weak. I challenge for the right to rule by first blood," Gil-galad chanted the words. They were met with a resounding cheer.

Toron sneered at Gil-galad as they slowly began to circle each other. "You may have won the love of the people, but it shall be I who rules them."

Gil-galad said nothing, but continued to watch his adversary. He twisted sharply out of the way as Toron stabbed at him with the knife. Gil-galad realized that Toron had no intention of simply drawing first blood, he was trying to wound or kill.

Faile watched as the two Elves danced and swiped at each other with their knives. She stood on the very edge of the crowd surrounding the two combatants. Glorfindel and Elrond stood beside her. Elrond looked pale as he watched his cousin.

Gil-galad blocked a knife blow with his own and then turned quickly. Toron was thrown off balance and Gil-galad took his chance. He lashed out with his knife and cut Toron across his side. Then he stepped back away from him.

Toron held his side in shock. He had lost. He couldn't believe that the Outsider had beaten him.

The elder held up his hand for silence. "Gil-galad has shown his worth and won the trials. He shall lead us and all shall obey without question."

There was a great cheer at the elder's announcement.

Gil-galad walked towards Faile, Glorfindel and Elrond with a smile on his face. His mind raced as he thought of all he would need to do to move his kin back to Forlindon. He watched as Faile's face changed from joy to horror. She screamed at him, but he couldn't hear her over the din of the crowd.

Faile watched as Toron picked up his bow and notched an arrow. He took aim at Gil-galad. She screamed for Gil-galad to move, but he didn't understand what she was saying. Faile didn't think about what she was doing. She simply rushed forward and threw herself at Gil-galad. He was now her King she had to protect him.

Glorfindel watched in confusion as Faile launched herself at Gil-galad. She pushed him out of the way and then seemed to be thrown forward. She landed face first and didn't move. It was then that he saw the arrow shaft sticking out of her back. He drew his bow and notched an arrow. He was too late. Toron was already dead.

Faile's pack had also seen what Toron was about and filled him with their arrows, but not before he let his fly.

Gil-galad stared in shock as he realized Faile had taken an arrow meant for him. He heard a cry of anguish and watched as Glorfindel rushed to where Faile had fallen.

Glorfindel gently lifted Faile and turned her, careful not to jar the arrow in her back. "Faile, look at me." Her eyes remained closed, but he could see that she still breathed. He looked over at Elrond, who was examining the wound.

"We need to get her inside, Glorfindel. This wound is serious."

Glorfindel stood with Faile in his arms and followed Elrond into the cavern. He never felt the tears coursing down his face.

Gil-galad followed behind them. He had seen the look Elrond had sent him, Faile's wound was not simply serious, and it would probably prove to be fatal. He knew that she had sacrificed herself out of loyalty. He was her King by right of trial, and she would die for him. He prayed that Elrond had misjudged her wound, for he did not think Glorfindel would survive if Faile did die, he would follow her. Death from grief and a broken heart was a horrible way for an Elf to pass to the Halls of Mandos.

~*~*~*~

Moriquendi - Dark Elves: Name given to the Elves that never saw the Light of the Two Trees (Quenya)
Lyg - Snake (Sindarin)
Brôg - Bear (Sindarin)
Aras - Deer (Sindarin)
Saurihos - Foul Folk (Quenya)
Mar Mordollo - Home out of Shadow (Quenya)

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