Memories of Starlight by Levade

Chapter 1 Fire

Found myself with extra time and decided to join in the 100 Prompt Drabble Challenge that NicCele  started.  This is too long to really be a drabble. I clock it at 500 words, just squeaking under the challenge guidelines.

Could be considered part of the story "Malaise" comes from. Set on the plains of Orodruin, after the One Ring rode off with the unfortunate Isildur...

"Give me my sword!"

"No."

The wash of fire and fury swept his veins, igniting wrath he had never felt. "Give. Me. My. Sword."

Deadly calm. Deathly earnest.

Met with the implacable, immovable. "No." Blue eyes gentle, the blood-stained captain adamant. "You are not yourself."

It was not the first time, but by the stars it would be the last. He stepped closer, invading, pushing boundaries, sick, oh so sick. "Who am I then." Looked deep into the blue eyes, seeing the dance of light long gone from Arda, deeper to the darkness of death and the rise from the ashes.

"You are son, brother, orphan, survivor, herald. Friend. One who lost much, too much and one I will not see stain his hands with the blood of kin."

"He is lost to the Ring! Maddened!" He used his anger to shove against the broad chest and bared his teeth in satisfaction as Glorfindel staggered back a step. "I should have thrown him in, but now I cannot see him ride off with that abomination!"

There was a sword at his side, very near Elrond's hand. Círdan, watching but holding all others back, held a sword. Glorfindel took back that step, and unbuckled the sword from his side. "Then use my sword."

"I would not-"

"No? Think you above the ring's lure? You, who have been stripped of father and mother, of twin and those who would be like a father. You to whom, even now, others look to take up the mantle of High King, to lead your people to their former glory." Glorfindel lowered his voice. "Can you deny you have longed for its fire to kindle your weary heart?"

Elrond had seen it there on the cusp of the crater. One sweep of his sword and the ring would be his, the fire would be his, the power to save his people. His.

"Take it. Ride him down. Cut it from his hand. Kill him." Glorfindel shoved the sword against Elrond's chest. "Then I shall weep as I kill you."

Shock widened the grey eyes and Elrond stepped back. There was cold resolve in Glorfindel's eyes that doused the fire raging in his heart.

"I will not see you with that ring on your hand, Elrond Eärendilion."

"We cannot do naught." Elrond rallied his resolve, still uneasy with the cool flame in the blue eyes. "Isildur must be stopped!"

Lowering the sword, Glorfindel shook his head. "The ring will be his doom, Elrond."

He looked to the volcano, still smoldering, still seething with enough fire to melt the grief of them all. "I should have thrown him in."

"You aren't a kin-slayer."

"Enough. Disperse!" Círdan barked the order as he turned to men and elves who had gathered to watch the commotion. "See to the wounded!"

"Glorfind-"

"Go. Rest." Glorfindel met his gaze and held it. "Let us bear Gil-galad to his tent, Elrond."

A glance to the fire-burnt form, his king, his friend. Elrond turned away.

Chapter End Notes

All mistakes are mine. Thank you for reading!