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Chapter Twenty-Six: Dagor Aglareb

The air was still and the lands as empty as could be as though all forms of creatures winged, hoofed, and paw had become nonexistent or disappeared from the world. No wind moved through Dorthonion as it oft did but this day there was no sign of breezes passing through the valley delved between the mountainsides. It seemed as if time had come to a standstill and all else was frozen and unmoving. Yet, the tension and unease surrounding the elvish armies was thick and suffocating.

The Noldor that made up a large majority of High King Fingolfin and his son Turgon's troops were aware that this day was eventually going to come. They were ready for the task despite a few reservations of nervousness that one would feel nevertheless under such circumstances. The Sindar who had joined the kingdoms under the Noldor Princes from the West felt the same pride in protecting their families, homes, and friends just as much as their fellow Noldor soldiers. Morgoth was a common enemy among the elves and to not stand at arms with their fellow Eldar would have been disgraceful but more so unwise since all the power the elvish kingdoms could muster was needed together to stop the Dark Lord.

Taking the southern journey along the Ered Wethrin, Turgon's forces met with his father's to create a huge strength. The newest information from Fingolfin's scouts was that Morgoth sought to move his forces in between the originally predicted movements of Sirion and Maglor's Gap through the hillsides of Dorthonion. A messenger was sent to Maedhros and his brothers of the change so that their troops could press from the opposite side from Fingolfin's joint troops toward the evil army. Another note was dispatched to Cirdan whose own troops waited just beyond the Pass of Sirion as agreed upon between him and Turgon. Due to the changes of Morgoth's latest movements, Cirdan would have to move closer to the Pass to make sure the movements into Dorthonion were not just a ruse to divert Fingolfin's greater army.

Glorfindel looked out along the hills standing silently in the distance that separated Dorthonion from the plains of Anfauglith, once known as Ard-galen. Sitting tall upon his steed, Glorfindel stood ready to command the cavalry. He could sense the discomfort in his warriors as they waited uncounted minutes for the foul servants of Melkor to come into view. Both Fingolfin and Turgon had given rousing speeches but the hearty feeling had long since worn off in the wait.

His horse snorted and stamped impatiently below him and Glorfindel reined him in to do a quick last minute check of those under his command before it was too late. Pale faces returned unfocused stares as all watched the valleys ahead. The golden lord looked out to Turgon who stood with another company of the troops in the infantry where he always loved to be. Noticing his good friend looking his way, the king of Nevrast smiled and gave him a comforting nod before turning to see if Ecthelion's own soldiers were ready.

Glorfindel turned back to his watch of the lands, leading his steed closer to his men to give them some comfort. His mind strayed a little as he wondered about what he left behind. Elrilya had been in his thoughts since the departure from Vinyamar and Glorfindel kept the feelings he had for her locked in his heart to give him strength to face the devilry he was to meet. The image of her smile came into his consciousness and Glorfindel let a small smile spread on his lips as he thought of her in his arms.

The moment of serenity was broken as the distant sound of marching footfalls was heard. All ears perked up as the sound became louder very quickly and the first dark figures passed over the distant hills. A few of the horses whinnied nervously and shuffled around in the ranks as their riders tried to hold them steady. Most of the forces looked to be goblins and wolves, not nearly as many of the other despicable creatures Morgoth had created. More of the elvish soldiers shifted nervously in their armor as the sight of the enemy quickly advanced toward them since this was the first great battle for most of them. By now the leaders of the deadly orcs had seen their great army but they hardly hesitated. Instead, the orcs stopped as they reached the plains on level ground with the elves and let out growls of terror and horns of impending doom.

The dark tendrils of fear began to try and weave its way into Glorfindel's soul but he fought them back, keeping the memory of his beloved strong. However, not all the warriors seemed to have the same ability to force out the frightful thoughts invading their minds. Glorfindel clenched his jaw in thought as he wondered what to do to make them feel the true strength within them.

Singing.

Glorfindel's voice rose high above those around him and carried on over the valley to those that faced him. Singing. Her silent words spoke in his mind from the conversation they had nights before. Warming his heart and uplifting his spirit, Glorfindel sang louder and prouder a song of the Two Trees and the glory of the Eldar. Voices from the Noldor who knew the words from either their parents having taught them or having been original journeyers from Valinor joined their lord.

Mightily their chorus became and stronger it grew as more took up the words. The Sindar unfamiliar with the song wondered at this interesting turn to unnerve the enemy. Many who had taken the time to learn Quenya took part as others who knew not the Quenya language instead sang long notes to elevate the spoken words. Soon enough the great host sang together as one, the horns to head to battle sounded their low tones and all moved out, their voices cutting the once stale air.

Raising his sword high in the air, Glorfindel led his horsemen to the left flank at full gallop as per Turgon's instructions the night before at the battle preparations. The idea was to also take the enemy by surprise with as much strength and power necessary to wear them down faster. The orcs growled menacingly as they came closer but they wavered uncertain of the fierce warriors coming upon them. Faltering, the goblin's stumbled backward and moved their spears upward out of positions that could fatally harm the elves and the horses they rode upon. Instead, the great mounts slammed into the filth with crushing force as their thick bodies and powerful legs shattered bones and trampled limbs. Whoever escaped the great animals' rushes were immediately downed by the Eldar riders' sharp swords and quick arrows.

Swiftly Glorfindel flew through the mass of goblins ahead of his riders, his sword black with the blood of orc flesh and death. The stench of the spilled innards and of the piling dead quickly filled the air as the infantry attacked full force into the front ranks but the foul reek mattered little to them as they fought on toward their goal. Glorfindel's flank attack worked perfectly to compact the orcs toward the center so that they could not try to surround the elvish forces. Little room was afforded to the army of Morgoth and the servants fell in droves as arrows rained down form the sky into the large throng, there were so many of the creatures hardly an arrow missed a target.

Finally the pressing of the evil troops upon each other reached its limit and no further they would move since there was no room to continue. Glorfindel gave the sign for his cavalry to ride into the mess as much as they could, killing all in their path without mercy. The white stallion bearing its fair-haired lord in his brilliantly arrayed armor of silver and gold with a bright image of Anar upon his shield was beyond frightening to the orcs as the glow he emanated seemed like the light of the Two Trees itself lived within him. All the warrior Eldar that day seemed to have the same presence of light about them as their voices carried higher and continued through the onslaught, bringing more faith and strength into their hearts as they were reminded of the death of the Two Trees. Remembrance of their choice to come to the east to make Morgoth pay for what he took from them surged through their veins, making them even more fell and fearsome to their orc foes.

Sounds of horns echoed across the vast plains and all heads turned to see the fast approaching armies of the sons of Fëanor. The deadly approach was too much for the orcs as they were further smashed and crushed between the newly arrived armies and the one they were already fighting. Glorfindel, sitting high upon his steed, saw as Turgon and Maedhros met in the middle of the fighting and clasped hands in brotherhood before turning to the battle again side-by-side.

Stalking his enemies one by one, Glorfindel destroyed his foes that stood in the way to victory. Remembering the fear that had coursed through his body and mind when Elrilya had been missing in the mountains years ago because of the orc attack rose in his mind and Glorfindel fought harder than ever to rid the world of the scum that brought such despair and fear to the people of these lands. He would stay by his word and return to her as he promised no matter what the cost or what could happen to him in this battle.

The epiphany seemed to hit him with alarming clarity as he bore down on his enemy. Glorfindel had never realized how strongly he felt for Elrilya with his new regard for her until that moment. The depths of his affection were much more than a passing interest and they were beyond true to his heart. This strange realization made it so much clearer to him but instead of the familiar sensation of fear warning him away from becoming too close to someone he embraced the adoration he held for her. With the adrenaline of his insight surging through his heart and blood, Glorfindel gave a great battle cry as those around him dealt stronger blows upon those in front of them

The Eldar forces drove the army fighting on darkness' side further and further back from their position. Soon enough Glorfindel realized that he and his riders were chasing the remnants of Morgoth's devastated forces back into Anfauglith with Maedhros' own cavalry joining theirs to drive the orcs forth like a sheep dog navigating a flock. By the fall of dusk the Eldar army was at Angband's gates killing the last of the fleeing enemy before they reached safety behind the dark walls. Those that still guarded the ramparts within the buttresses of the fortress shrunk back cautiously in fear of the Eldar actually considering taking Angband by force. Instead, the immortal beings let our roars of triumph and great blows of theirs horns with the standards of their leaders held high at their unified blow to the Dark Lord.

*
The night was met with celebration in the camps of the Eldar troops. Plentiful meats were passed around as mead was drunk by the barrelful and all was alive with mirth and joy. The united forces of the Eldar had never expected such a one-sided victory over Morgoth's armies and the shock quickly turned into jubilation.

As captains and leaders of the troops, Glorfindel and Ecthelion joined with Fingolfin, Turgon, the sons of Fëanor, and various other lords under the High King and Noldor princes in their big private tent while the warriors enjoyed themselves among their men at arms outside. Fingolfin, ever mindful of the price one may pay due to overconfidence, reminded those present during a little speech that Morgoth must never be trusted and a siege must be held upon the gates of Angband to assure the elven realms of security. The Valar had been lax in keeping a watchful eye over Morgoth's activities when the Eldar still resided in Valinor, thus leading to the destruction of the Two Trees. With their continued presence in the east, the Eldar must hold that position as protectors of their people.

Soon enough the merrymaking began again after Fingolfin's serious talk and all returned to their former joyful selves. Glorfindel decided to return to his tent for the night as well as prepare what else he had to pack for the next day's journey back to Vinyamar. Despite the day's great battle, Glorfindel did not feel that exhausted. Instead, he was filled with excitement at wanting to get back home. He could not wait until he was in Elrilya's presence once more and hopefully, with this continued time together, find out where their friendship may lead. Glorfindel had just removed his armor and was about to finish his packing when he heard someone outside his tent. He smiled when the person's head popped into view through the opening at the end.

"Not one for a party tonight, Glorfindel?" Ecthelion asked with a dry smile.

"Perhaps another time," he replied to his colleague. "Let them feast and drink to their hearts' delight. I can be glad for our victory on my own as well."

"Of course," the dark-haired Noldo said with a nod. "It does not feel the same when one does not celebrate with those welcoming you home. Though, I suppose that means we will have another festivity once we come to Vinyamar."

"More than likely," Glorfindel said, motioning for Ecthelion to join him further inside his small tent. "There will be some who are saddened over the outcome, we did not come out of this completely unscathed."

Ecthelion nodded in agreement at Glorfindel's reminder that they had won but did have some casualties inflicted by the orcs.

"I hope those who have lost someone shall be comforted that these soldiers went willingly to protect their loved ones as much as their city and this world," he said quietly, seeming to study his mug of ale as he turned it in his hands. "Though, I wish we did march upon the Dark Lord's manor so that this constant fighting of random bands of orc and harsh battles may end once and for all. There is no need to let him be and have the Eldar always in worry that he may come forth again."

"It is not for us to decide when that shall be," Glorfindel said to his friend, not quite sure what had brought on this change in the usually upbeat personality of his. "We may not understand completely what King Fingolfin may design for his sieges against our enemy but we must serve him as Turgon sees fit."

"I know," Ecthelion said as he sat on the edge of the cot in the tent. "Most would rather have days unnumbered without the constant threats of an assault. That is what I wish for one day."

"Don't we all," Glorfindel said with a chuckle. "We must have faith, though, in what is done even if it might be a longer path to take."

"Too true," the warrior said as he sighed deeply.

"What troubles you on this night after our great victory?" Glorfindel finally asked. "I may seem to want to be away from the others but still share in their joy yet you brood as if this world will end tomorrow."

"Nothing of great importance," Ecthelion said with a smile to his concerned friend. "I have many things to consider upon our return on an a personal nature. One day perhaps I will tell you."

"I am always here if you need that," Glorfindel said, laying his hand on Ecthelion's shoulder. "We have few others who are our peers in the matters we deal with or understand what we do and feel."

"As I am for you, Glorfindel," he replied before standing and heading toward his own tent for the night.

Glossary
Dagor Aglareb: the third great battle in the Wars of Beleriand that was named the "Glorious Battle"
Dorthonion: a land laying between the Pass of Sirion and Maglor's Gap, north of Ered Gorgoroth, also known as Taur-nu-fuin.