Finding Lost Family by chrissystriped

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Chapter Zero

This chapter is an excerpt from Chapter 34 of Mighty Love (currently only posted on AO3) which is the starting point for this fic. Knowledge of the plot of Mighty Love is not necessary to understand this story.

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They looked down on Eonwe who stood in full armour in front of the gates.

“What do you want, Eonwe? What have the Valar to say?”, Sauron called down.

“Come down, Artano, so we can talk to each other properly.”

“I hear you very well from up here. Say what you have to say and be gone.”

Eonwe sighed. “As you wish. The Valar offer every Maia who surrenders before the battle mitigation of punishment. You have time until tomorrow morning. When the sun rises, we attack.” Without waiting for an answer, Eonwe turned around.

“Mormirion.”

A cold shiver ran down Mo’s spine when Sauron turned to him, his eyes burned.

“We will give them a welcome they won’t soon forget and I don’t want anyone to stab us in the back. You and your soldiers will go to the slave quarters tonight and kill every slave.”

Mo felt himself grow pale, he hoped that Sauron didn’t see his horror.

“Of course”, he croaked. His thoughts raced. He had planned to slink away on his own, but now...

He looked at Sharû who had accompanied him, his colonel looked as if someone had thrust a dagger into his heart. No, they wouldn’t do this. He wouldn’t commit such a blood deed in the last hours of this lost war. He bowed to Sauron and ordered Sharû to follow him.

“Summon all the men, I have to talk to them.”

“As you wish, general.”

Mo felt his friend’s unwillingness, he wanted to tell him that he wouldn’t execute Sauron’s order, but he couldn’t do it in the open.

 

An hour later Mo stood on the parade in front of his men. It weren’t only Melkor’s guard but also the overseers and guards who watched the slaves.

Sharû saluted to him. “Everyone is here, general.”

Mo nodded. “Thank you, colonel.” He lifted his voice. “I have to announce something to you, soldiers. Certainly word already got around that the king is a prisoner of the Valar. I can’t tell you why he surrendered to them, I don’t know myself.”

He could guess though. Mablung was gone too, he had looked for him, and he remembered the nocturnal talk he had had with Melkor two days ago. Maybe Melkor had realised what he felt for his slave.

“General Artano has ordered us to kill the slaves, so we won’t have to fight them, too. Everyone, without exception, women, children.”

He heard the gasp that travelled through the cave. They would refuse to obey him if he ordered this, Mo was sure. Maybe not all of them, but... Sauron had never understood how he chose his men.

“But I’ll tell you something: I won’t do this! The war is lost. We can’t win against the Valar. I don’t want to have the blood of this slaves on my hands. I want you to help me free the slaves. Help me to take them away from here. You are no murderers, I know that. Everyone of you has contributed to make the slaves’ lives better. Do something good tonight so you can look each other in the eyes tomorrow.”

“But general, what happens with us?”, one of his captains, Mardag, asked.

Mo shook his head. “I don’t know. I for one will surrender to the Valar, there is no other way for me, they’ll hunt me. As to you: I only want to help me bring the slaves to safety, what you do after is up to you. I can’t tell you what is the right thing for you. Go back to your posts now, we wait for the night.”

He wished he could save them but he knew that after he had surrendered he wouldn’t even be able to save himself. A shudder ran down his spine when he thought of meeting Aule after all these years. He indicated to Sharû and the captains to follow him. They needed to plan a few things before it was time. Ideas raced around in his head. There weren’t any easy ways now.

 

Mo rubbed his forehead, he had dismissed all except Sharû, everything was said, everything planned, they could only wait now. Sharû looked at him puzzled.

“What are you thinking?”, Mo asked with a crooked smile.

“How did you get here, Mo?” Sharû shook his head. “You are one of the good ones.”

Mo stretched sighing. “I thought once that I belong here, with Melkor, but Melkor is gone and what we do to the elves was never right.”

He clasped Sharû’s shoulder. “Come and drink with me, let us wait for the end together.”

Sharû nodded. “It’s an honour, Mo, and I don’t say that because you are my superior.”

They walked on silently, Mo only spoke again after he had closed the door of his room behind them.

“I wanted to kill Sauron up there, when he ordered me to murder the slaves. I feared he would hear my feelings.”

“I don’t think anyone noticed. I didn’t notice. Do you really want to surrender?”

Mo poured wine for them both and drank deeply, his hand trembled. “Yes. I don’t see another way and... I did wrong and need to be punished for it.”

Sharû touched their glasses. “I’ll go with you. Where else should I go? My father was an elf, once, as was my grandmother. I’m so old, I don’t think I’ll grow old and die as many of the younger ones do. My mother always said: ‘Don’t forget where you are coming from. They are your family too.’ Maybe it is time to become the elf I might have been.”

Sharû tilted his head and smiled and in the light of the single candle, Mo thought for a moment that he could see that elf.

“What name did your mother give you, Sharû?”

Sharû shook his head and suddenly he had tears in his eyes. “Father didn’t want her to give us elf-names. He wanted us to be orcs, completely, so no one had cause to hurt us like they hurt him. She accepted his wish, but the songs she knew from her mother she sang to us anyway.”

Mo put his hand on his shoulder. “You’ll find your way, my friend.” He called his flute. “Have I ever played for you?”

Sharû shook his head and Mo spent the hours that remained immersed in the Music. Maybe it would be the last time for  a long time.

“Will you help me arm myself?” Mo stood up and stretched. It was time.

“Of course.”

With every plate of mithril, Sharû strapped on him, his melancholy mood vanished more and more. He had to concentrate on the task before him, his mind had to be clear.

“Let us save a few lives, Sharû.”

 

His men were already on their positions. Mo gave the order to advance, they would gather all slaves on the great square where the meals were given out.

“Act with restrain”, he warned. “Remind yourself that in a few hours they will be the masters.”

They hadn’t reckoned to find the houses empty. Mo’s hair stood on end. Had they heard of what Sauron had ordered? That wasn’t good. He cast out his senses and found the elves on the square. What were they up to? Did they want to risk an open fight? They where many of course, much more than his soldiers, but unarmed against armed soldiers... They were desperate – and it weren’t all of them.

“Let the men draw back”, he ordered Sharû. “I’ll go alone to them.”

Sharû opened his mouth to object but thought better of it and only gave his orders. Mo went on. If he showed up with an army, it would come to the massacre he wanted to prevent. The elves would fight, they wouldn’t leave him another choice. He hoped that they would listen to him when he came alone. He lifted his hands when he walked onto the square. Distrustful eyes watched him. They were armed with sticks and stones. Desperate courage.

“I don’t want to fight you and I came alone. Let us talk. Who speaks for you?”

“We know why you came, general”, said a Noldo. His left cheek was disfigured by a burn scar but in his eyes was the light of Aman. “We won’t be killed without a fight.”

“We didn’t come to kill you, although it was ordered. We want to help you to get free.”

Soft muttering broke out. Mo heard the name Asea Mahan. The elf scrutinized him warily.

“Why would you do that?”

“Because the war is lost – and it is right.” Mo looked the elf in the eyes. “I want to be able to look into the mirror after this day and not hate myself.” Mo opened his sword belt and offered the weapon to the elf. “Kill me if you want, but know that my men might take it ill.”

The elf reached out and closed his hand around the hilt.

“What’s your name?”

Something flashed in the eyes of the elf when he drew the sword and held it to Mo’s throat. “Slaves don’t have names, you know that.”

“You aren’t a slave anymore”, Mo answered calmly.

He wasn’t frightened for himself, his body was only a cloak, he could replace it, given time, if it were necessary. But it would be bad for the elves, he didn’t know if Sharû could pull off their plan if the elf killed him. A drop of blood ran down his neck.

“You really mean it”, the elf said stunned.

“Completely. Come with me. I’ll take you out of here.”

The elf pulled back the weapon. “What’s your plan?”

“I’ll lead you through one of the tunnels, we can’t take the main gate.” Mo’s gaze wandered over the crowd. “Where did you hide your women and children? I only see grown men.”

“In the work buildings”, the elf answered haltingly. Mo could see that he didn’t trust him completely, yet. “Here are only those who already fought in a battle.”

“Very reasonable.” Mo declined when the elf wanted to give him his sword back. “Keep it. You will need it, we are at war, the tunnels will be guarded.”

“But...”

Mo smiled wryly. “The elf who was ready to fight against armoured soldiers armed only with a stick, has earned this weapon. Take it, I don’t need it anymore. When you are safe I’ll surrender to the judgement of the Valar. Come, it’s time to arm your men properly.” Mo saw Sharû’s unrest when he came back, the elves trailing behind him. “It went well, colonel.”

 

“May I ask for your name again?”, Mo said, while he watched the elves arming themselves in the armoury.

The elf grinned at him. “I’m Ecthelion of Gondolin.”

Mo was too stunned for a moment to say anything. “But it was said Ecthelion had fallen."

“Yes. I was hurt badly. But I wasn’t dead. They took me captive, but they didn’t recognise me and I was glad for it. I used a false name if someone asked me, and that didn’t happen often anyway.”

Mo bowed. “I’m not surprised that you lead them. The sword will serve you well.”

Mo had armed himself with a blade from the armoury so he wouldn’t be defenseless. He saw with pleasure how with every mail shirt that was donned, with every weapon that was taken in hand, the slaves became more and more the warriors they had been – and would be again.

“It is the best weapon you will ever take in hand, Sauron forged it and you can say about him what you want, but he knows his craft.”

Ecthelion drew the sword and looked at it with new reverence. “It is a wonderful weapon. Are you sure...”

“Yes. I’ll be a prisoner soon, it would be taken from me anyway. This way I can be sure that someone gets it who deserves it. Look at it as payment for your services.”

“I’ll cherish it.” Ecthelion sheathed it again. “I’ll send a few of my men to fetch the ones who can’t fight.” Mo nodded and called for one of his captains. “A few of the orcs will accompany you, it’s safer that way.”

“Will they fight with us?”, Ecthelion asked and eyed Sharû, who stood near them without participating in their conversation.

“They will.”

“And after?”

Mo shrugged. “I have left it up to them what they'll do when you are safe. Some of them will maybe surrender with me, in the hope that the Valar will see what they are.”

“Orcs with elvish blood”, Ecthelion murmured. “I’m aware of how much they did for us. I wasn’t here before you took the supervision but I heard that our lives were better after that.”

“I wish we could have done more.” Mo lowered his gaze.

“You did so much, Asea Mahan. Thanks to you we had a roof over our heads that really kept the rain away, thanks to you we had enough to eat to feed a hungry child and still be able to work.” Ecthelion pushed the hair from his disfigured face. “Thanks to you we always had a place where we could ask for help. You might not know it, but without you, I wouldn’t be alive and I’m sure there isn’t an elf in Angband who doesn’t at least know someone whom you helped.”

Ecthelion pointed to one of the orcs. “I knew him when he was a boy. Thanks to you he had a choice, thanks to you he didn’t have to see his mother dying tonight. When you are on trial, I’ll tell the Valar what you did for us and I don’t think I’ll be the only one.”

Mo felt tears in his eyes. He didn’t deserve this. “I did so much wrong”, he answered softly. “I deserve to be punished.”

“Maybe.” Ecthelion shrugged. “I don’t know why you decided to follow Morgoth and it’s not my place to ask. But I know that many of those who’ll find their freedom tonight won’t be alive without you.”

“It wasn’t only me.” Mo’s gaze wandered over his men. “I remember you now. You got your injuries when a furnace exploded, didn’t you? It were two of my men who brought you to me. And each payday they gave half of their pay to buy food for you.”

“That... I didn’t know that.”

“No one knew. It would have been a disaster if it had come out.”

“But why did they do it?” Ecthelion looked as if his whole worldview had started to crumble.

“Because I know his father”, Sharû said suddenly and pointed to the orc, Ecthelion had mentioned earlier. “Before Mo came, we ignored the children we might have with a slave. Not all orcs are uncaring monsters. To see how your own child is made a slave...” Sharû shook his head. “Better to don’t know it at all. Mo gave our children a future. Mo encouraged us to be what we are. My grandmother was a slave and my father was an elf, before... If my skin were lighter or my eyes blue I would have been weeded out. Everyone of this men has a similar story to tell but we are trained to forget it. Mo wanted us to remember and if you remember were you come from, you can’t let your relatives starve.” Sharû stretched out his hand. “My name is Sharû.”

Ecthelion shook it after a moment of hesitation. “Ecthelion.”

 

Ecthelion’s sword struck the mail of an orc and cut through it like butter. It was a divine blade, Mormirion hadn’t promised too much. He whirled around when he saw a movement in the corner of his eye but it was one of theirs. He would never have thought that he would one day fight at the side of orcs – and every time one of them turned up next to him with a drawn sword, his instincts screamed at him to defend himself.

Ecthelion turned his head, he was almost blind on his left eye, he only saw movements. The thick of a fight wasn’t the best place for him but he would be damned if he waited with the women and children and let others fight for his freedom. He was oddly relieved that it had come to a fight. He had searched so long for an opportunity to flee and then it should simply drop into his lap? That would have been too easy.

He was still a little wary. The enemy had used complicated ruses in the past to deceive them. But he would find out if they meant what they said. The last foes were dead and the Maia led them on. The strangest thing was that Ecthelion didn’t feel uncomfortable in the company of the orcs.

“Relatives”, Sharû had called them and maybe that was the truth. Ecthelion knew the legends that told how the first orcs had been created and when he looked at a few of this soldiers he believed every word of it.

They helped them to escape! The notion that orcs and elves didn’t need to be mortal enemies was new to him. But they had saved their lives, maybe you couldn't judge the character from the appearance. He would watch and wait. It felt like an eternity until they finally came to the surface again and all were assembled, in the narrow tunnel they had had to spread out far.

It was completely silent, not even the children cried as if they felt that something special happened. The Maia turned to his soldiers.

“It is time, soldiers. There lies he host of the Valar.” Ecthelion looked in the direction Mormirion pointed and saw the light of many fires in the sky. “Thank you for being at my side at this last operation. I’m proud to have led you, you exceeded my wildest hopes. Go now where you want to go.”

To Ecthelion’s surprise most of the orcs stayed, only a few ran away. Actually, a few already mixed with the former slaves, moved to the side of their mothers.

Ecthelion stepped to the Maia and said softly: “Those who stay shall give up their weapons, that goes for you, too.”

“You don’t trust us”, Mormirion noted calmly.

Ecthelion shrugged. “Would you? I’m grateful that you freed us but I survived for so long because I’m wary. This could be a complicated ruse to attack the Valar.”

Mormirion laughed. “An interesting idea. But no, it’s not like that.” He lifted his voice. “Give your weapons to the elves, soldiers. From this moment we are the prisoners and they lead.”

 

Mo gave his lent sword to an elf. “We are in your hands, Ecthelion. Lead us.”

He felt the cautious hope of the elves and the anxiety of his men. He wished he could reassure them but he didn’t know himself what awaited them and how they would be received. The Valar had always been their enemies, they feared them, they only knew Melkor. He had been surprised how many had stayed. But maybe they just hadn’t know what to do with their freedom.

They had been ordered around all their lives. It couldn’t be easy for them. For him it was like coming home, as long as he had been away. He knew the Valar, he knew that he deserve every punishment they might subject him to. For his men it was a step in the dark, in the hope that no abyss awaited. He worried for them, he wouldn’t be able to protect them.

Mo felt queasy, he didn’t fear the Valar in general, but Aule... Aule would be against him, so he would be against the orcs. Who could he turn to? He didn’t even know, who had come. How was Melkor? Why had he surrendered? Had he realised that it was hopeless to fight? What had he done with Mablung? The prospect of Mablung being in the camp was a good feeling.

Had Melkor told him what he felt for him? Mo shook his head. He couldn’t believe this by any stretch of imagination. Even if Melkor had done this for him he wouldn’t have told him. Mo realised that they were looked for, he shouldn’t be surprised. They weren’t very inconspicuous and he must feel like a beacon to his brothers.

“Halt!” Eonwes voice was steely, his eyes buried into Mo’s. “What is the meaning of this?”

“I bring you Angband’s slaves”, Mo answered. “They are free – and me and my men surrender to the judgement of the Valar.” He knelt and waited.

“They helped us to get free”, he heard Ecthelion say. “They are our prisoners.”

Mo wondered what he intended by that.

“And who might you be?”

“Ecthelion of the Fountain.”

Mo heard unrest from Eonwe’s escort, it had already erupted when he surrendered but now it came back with more force. They knew the name. Everyone knew the name. Ecthelion had been one of the Lords of Gondolin. Eonwe didn’t let show if he was surprised to see him here.

“It isn’t for me to decide, especially in Mormirion's case. Come with me, I’ll take care that you have roof over your heads, you must be tired.”

One of the Maiar addressed Mo. “Follow me, Aule wants to see you.” Mo felt sick. He feared this encounter.