[Author's Note: So I decided that from now on I'm going to put link to music that helps me into mood as I write every chapter. Feel free to listen to them as you read on. Let me know what you think! Happy Reading]

***

Rivendell has fallen.

That much, Elrond had come to terms with. Expected it even. Yet seeing what he had foreseen didn’t make it hurt less.

The shelter that once ruled by peace, his home, was now burning to ruin and ashes. Some of its once majestic buildings were eaten by the wrath of flames; white walls stained with both blood of his enemies and his people.

Oh, his people. How he had failed them all.

But he hadn’t failed Arda yet. As long as there is still fight in him, Elrond vowed to keep the secret from the enemy, whatever it takes, even carry it to his death.

“—we cannot linger anymore!”

The shouts from his young lieutenant were barely registered to him as more deafening explosion sounds shook his house. The enemy catapults—Elrond had no idea how they managed to bring the machineries towards Rivendell, unseen— had been the ones responsible for so many innocent blood to be spilled this day.

“My lord!” Reanor shook his lord’s arms just after he beheaded one of the Uruk-hai, the orc monsters that had swarmed and defiled their home. “Tell me what to do.”

Lord Elrond finally turned his focus to Reanor. His silence was somehow deafening as the elf warrior stared at him, his grip on his sword tight as he waited for his orders. The wise elf finally opened his mouth, but Reanor could smell the incoming orcs before they launched their strike at him and his lord whose life he swore to protect.

The quick witted elf then guided his lord to a slight opening in the crack of the wall just so the Uruks won’t be able to see them. At least for a while.

“You must leave me,” murmured Lord Elrond, his voice shaky yet there was a clarity in his order, “Tell Glorfindel to fall back.”

The elf lieutenant had a dark look about his expression as he stared at his lord in disbelief. He took a careful observation on the lord of Rivendell. Weariness weighed heavily upon his dirt-stained face; dark, long hair disheveled. His thousand years eyes that would usually emanated wisdom that his subjects could always depend upon was now seemed empty. Lost even.

“I cannot leave you like this. You are hurt,” objected Reanor, jaw tight as he briefly studied the bloody shoulder of the ancient lord, “Who will protect you?”

“Who will protect my people?” asked Lord Elrond instead, his eyes swimming with emotion. “Evacuate the city. Get them anywhere but here. We need to save those that still live.”

Reanor was a warrior; a lieutenant. It was his job to be strong. To inspire and carry on his duty. But now, upon hearing the doom in his lord’s order, he felt nothing but heartbreak that threaten to break his spirits.

A tight grab on his armored shoulder by Lord Elrond caught his attention.

“They need you more than I do, Reanor,” said Lord Elrond, his voice almost drowned by the sound of catapults upon catapults launched by the enemy. “You are young. You still have a long way ahead of you. I believe you will do everything necessary for the survival of our people. My only wish…” the wise elf shakily took his ring off of his finger and put it in Reanor's palm, “…is that you give this to my sons.”

At this point emotions had already set a fog in Reanor's eyes, and he was close to cry right there in front of his lord.

“Give me that knife,” Lord Elrond grunted as he moved to unsheathe the blade that was strapped to Reanor’s hip, then moved back to rest his back on the stone wall behind him, his left hand maintaining a pressure on his injured right shoulder.

“Now I have all I need to fend for myself,” murmured Lord Elrond. “Go, Reanor. They are not looking for you. They’re looking for me,” he said, as if that would make Reanor feel better.

Swallowing hard, the young elf lieutenant steeled himself. “I will go, but I will send help as soon as I can. What else can be done for you, sire?”

A brief silence stretched between the two elves as they locked eyes, for what seemingly like a last time.

“Save as many as you can.”

***

At some point, Wanda had lost her slippers as she, like everybody else, scrambled away from the falling debris of the Hall of Starlight. The brunette now ran barefoot, feeling dirt and dried leaves on the soles of her feet as she hauled her pregnant sister out of the crumbling dome.

The mortal girl wasn’t sure which is more terrifying; death by falling rocks and debris from the gigantic Hall of Starlight, or death by the fiery catapults that they now might face as they got out of the safety of the hall.

With a gasp and a cry, Belethiel wept; both with worry for her husband and nana, the other for the fact that she felt a contraction down her lower belly. But she kept pushing, letting her adopted sister lead her amidst the chaos and the heart shattering deaths of her kin.

She ran and ran, until she couldn’t anymore. Panicked, the blonde elleth cried in both anguish and pain as a sharp, needle-like pain stung her abdomen.

Her baby. Her baby!

“Oh Eru! I can’t run anymore! Please stop,” she cried.

Wanda looked back, slowing down but refusing to completely stop. Not with this fiery catapults firing at them. But when she saw the pain streaking her sister’s expression and the way her free arm clutched tightly around her belly, Wanda was forced to momentarily stop.

Through her gasp for air, Wanda scanned Belethiel down to find her legs drenched with moisture.

Her water was broken.

“H-he’s hurting. My baby is hurting,” the young elleth wept with a tremble, pleading with her eyes, “I-I can’t run anymore,” sobbed Belethiel fearfully, eyes glistening with pained tears.

Wanda placed a comforting and supporting arm around her sister’s back. She felt her tremble; from fear or pain. Most likely both. “Yes you can,” insisted Wanda evenly, remaining calm for her sister, “You have to. For the baby. We can’t stay here. We need to go to the forest. Lay low. You understand? Come on, I’ll help you. You can d—”

A warning scream, then a powerful blast shot her flying backwards, followed with muted, static sounds. Disoriented, she tried to see past the smoke, coughing and grunting with pain, but all she could hear was the loud ringing on her ears.

When her sight cleared and the smoke began to fade, all Wanda could see was bodies. Both elves and orcs, spread across the ground. Bloodied. Lifeless. Some had their empty eyes staring up to the night sky, making her wonder if the same stars that she danced to earlier also bore witness to the monstrosity that had occurred this night.

“Oi! Look what I found 'ere! Ehehehe!” said a high pitched, dirty voice from a distance, setting a red flag in Wanda’s head.

“Nice! Never had a baby elf-filth before. The flesh must be tender! Sweet!”

An excited screech of the dark creatures rang, louder as Wanda slowly got her hearing back.

“Come on! Hurry while it is still fresh!”

An ugly mocking sing-song, then a female scream that was cut short unnaturally.

“Hurry boys! We have no time playing with the food! The boss wants the elf lord! Finish your business quick!”

The brunette pressed her lips as she endured the pain from trying to roll herself so she was lying on her back. She managed to propped her head slightly, watching as a buff, dirty skinned Uruk with a braided dark matter hair made his way towards the house of Elrond. A fresh, still dripping scarlet marred his dark blade.

“Shall we cut her open then, eh?”

“Aargh. Stupid orc scum! There’s a way to cut open a belly and that's not it! Give me the knife, watch and learn!”

When Wanda finally able to turn to her side, then she realized just what the orcs had been arguing about.

A surge of power blasted out of her hands, throwing the three orcs backwards, away from the unconscious body of her sister. Then an angered, high pitched screech from the beasts that might as well screamed murder at her. They lunged at her, but her powers easily sent them flying backwards one more time.

She made sure none of them got back up again.

“B-Bel,” murmured Wanda as she crawled on the ground towards her sister who lay facing away from her. When she finally got to her elf sister, she turned her body and instantly flinched at the sight of her bloody chest.

The moment the avenger saw the emptiness in the once beautiful, lively eyes that belonged to her sister staring back at her, Wanda lost it.

At first, she didn’t recognize the strange sound that came out of her throat. A groan of pain, almost choking sound came out of her in a strange way as tears blurred her sight. Wanda desperately trying to stop the blood flowing from her sister’s chest whilst calling her back to no avail. She no longer cared about marring the beautiful white dress that she was wearing with blood and dirt. She forgot where she was; who she was– couldn’t care less; not even as her scarlet powers blasted out of her, sending everything else around her to shatter.

The mortal girl lifted her sister’s body to her chest as she wailed like a child, hugging her close as she rocked her body in her arms. Her cries ripped the air, joining the cries of the people of Rivendell.

***

The only defense that Rivendell had was Leane. But even as a seasoned warrior herself, she knew her limits and knew just how far she could push.

This war was a lost one.

She had been strategically targeting the powers that ran through her veins towards the thing that caused the most damage: the catapults.

Those artilleries that stood 40-50 feet above the ground were the ones responsible razing Rivendell to rubble. From a distance, the weapon dealt a great damage; even the stoned wall of the Hall of Starlight was unable to endure its assault.

Perhaps she had taken down most of the heavy weapons. And though by doing so the princess of Mirkwood had saved many, but still not nearly as many as she would like. Even with most of the catapults out of the way, the enemy still came with a mighty host. The elves of Rivendell were hopelessly outnumbered, and her power alone wasn’t enough to save all of them.

The eerie blue that glowed in her usually obsidian eyes marked the fact that she was beginning to be depleted of her energy. And from experience, she could tell that it was a downhill from there. But for the sake of the innocent lives around her, she pushed forward.

“To the pass of the mountain! Quickly!” ordered Reanor to the civilians that followed them towards the stony border of Rivendell. Or at least to what was left of them. “There! The bridge!”

Elves hurriedly ran towards their salvation with tears and blood marring their sorrowful faces. Beautiful and broken, but they still had a fight in them; so Leane vowed not to stop fighting.

The mortal princess drifted her gaze towards the place they once called home. Hers too, for the first few moments of her life in Middle Earth. Rivendell burned, and she still didn’t see her husband, couldn’t feel him down the soul bond they shared.

“The mountain shall give us the cover we need from the hoard,” muttered Glorfindel, though his expression hard and somber. He pointed to an opening of the mountain, “…from that gap, we make for what remains of Lothlorien. You are to destroy the bridge once these people make it to the other side.”

Leane looked at the golden haired warrior elf with a baffled look on her expression. “What about the rest of us?”

A clipped answer. “We fight. Reanor shall took leadership over what’s left of our people.”

The mortal princess felt her eyes stung with emotion at what Glorfindel was implying. He meant to stay behind. In all years she had walked Middle Earth, this was a new kind of despair; knowing that her comrades are walking into a sure death for the sake of their people.

“You’ll die.”

Her quiet words was met with silence from the elf warrior. The petite female grabbed Glofindel's bicep tightly, as if in an attempt to wake him up. “Even if I come with you, I am not strong enough to win over this darkness–“

“–which is why I am asking you to please follow Reanor–”

“–No, you did not–“ she insisted, tears now fell to her cheek as she angrily insisted on fighting whatever nonsense her friend was suggesting.

“–this has never been your fight. You have done so much for us, princess,” countered Glorfindel with a sad smile as he held her hand. “Go on live to fight for another day.”

“You forgot one thing,” she said with a cracked voice, “My husband, my friends, are still out there. And I am not leaving without them.”

Moments had passed between them as both friends came to a silent agreement. As the last elf made it through the bridge, Glorfindel cast his eyes towards the burning city. Waiting.

No one came back. But a hoard of orcs and Uruks could be seen making their way towards them.

“Tolo (come)!” urged Reanor from afar, across the bridge, beckoning Glorfindel and Leane to follow after him.

Striking blue eyes of Glorfindel met Reanor’s puzzled ones, wondering what was the delay.

“Goheno nin, mellon. Galu (I’m sorry, friend. Good luck).”

It was Glorfindel's parting words before Leane crouched herself at the ground. Again, she tapped to the power of the ancient trees of Rivendell. She felt her fëa (spirit) reached out and became one with the forest, the woody bark of the tree roots became the extension of her hands.

The ground shook as mighty tree roots emerged from the ground almost violently, cracking sounds of the waking of the ancient forest of Rivendell sent the ground trembling. Following her command, the old, monstrous woody roots came alive, firing itself towards the bridge as if with such hate and fire that the trees seemed to harbor for millennia.

In an instant the bridge was broken. What was left of the stony structure was now freefalling to the mighty Bruinen River below them, severing the way back for the people of Rivendell from their home.

With a determination, both Glorfindel and Leane turned their gaze away from the people they tried to save, and towards the bands of orcs sprinting their ways.

Glorfindel once again drew his broad sword, blue eyes melancholy, yet he managed to seem almost playful as he gestured to Leane.

“Are you ready, your highness?”

“…No,” Leane grumbled, wiping the remaining of the tears on her cheek. She closed her eyes, took a deep breath and steeled herself. “But do I have a choice?”

***

[Author's Note: Sorry, turns out Wanda don’t get to hulk out in this chapter yet. But next chapter, I promise. I need feedback, how’d the chapter go so far? I realize that there’s probably holes in it, but please be kind. If you have suggestions on how the battle should be written down, please please let me know, because writing battle scenes and strategizing isn’t really my forte. Feel free to comment & vote if you enjoyed the chapter! Thanks for reading, sexy readers ❤️]