Arwen was in hell.
She had not died yet, to go to this terrible afterlife spoken of so often by mortals, but she knew she was already there. The nightmare in which she now found herself was almost akin to that hellish fate and there was no way she could keep it from consuming those that she loved as well. Kicking and screaming had they taken her away from Eowyn and Melia, whose fate preyed heavily upon her mind particularly when she knew what the Enemy had planned for them. The thought of what they were enduring because of her caused her soul to wail with anguish because this was the very outcome she had feared the most when she had allowed Eowyn to embark upon this journey with her, that Eowyn’s life would be forfeit because of her. Not only was Eowyn’s life endangered, she had brought another into this and now Melia too would die because of her.
And as much as it shamed Arwen, that was not even the worst of it.
The worst of it was that at this moment, the shape shifters surrounded by comrades composed of Uruk Hai and Orcs were awaiting their master’s arrival to begin the ceremony that would rip the soul out of her unborn son’s body with Arwen helpless to do anything to stop it. She had prayed that if all hope was lost, if her efforts to stop the Enemy had failed utterly, there would still be the chance of saving Middle Earth from Melkor’s darkness by taking her own life. However, it seemed that the Enemy had already surmised that she might make this attempt and so as soon as she was under their power, the shape shifters ensured that she was given no opportunity to cheat their master of his prize.
Trapped on a slab of rock in what was once the main courtyard in the city of Nargothrond, Arwen’s hands and feet were bound as the shape shifters prepared her for the ritual. Above her, she could see nothing of the moon but it did not matter. The magic that would destroy her son did not require the moon’s power to become, it simply needed her. They had torn open her dress, leaving her belly exposed for all to see. Strange writings were scrawled upon her fair skin in blood, the language was that of Utumno, the lands that were once the center of Melkor’s earthly empire. She squirmed desperately as they placed the fouls words upon her skin and marked her forehead with strange concoctions that reeked of evil but paid little attention to her. She was but the vassal of their future master and while she was not to be hurt, she was not the most important player in this ceremony. Her babe was.
"Please!" She begged them, knowing it was pointless because they were savants to their master’s will. "Don’t do this! He is an innocent! Don’t take his life before he even begins it!"
"Do not weep little mother," a voice suddenly consoled from above her. It was like the rumble of thunder, low but still loud enough to ensure that when he spoke, he commanded the attention of all those present. Arwen saw the shape shifters treating her retreat a little in deference to their master’s presence. Even the Orcs and the Uruk Hai had bowed their head in reverence to the speaker.
Arwen raised her head and looked into the face of her enemy. The sight of him made her scream in nothing less than terror when she saw a dragon standing over her. This was nothing like the drake that she, Eowyn and Melia had fought within the Forest of Brethil. This was a Urloki, a full blooded, great dragon of the First Age. A fire breather that had been created by Melkor himself when he existed in the physical plane. A dragon with golden scales gleaming under the light of many torches scattered around the courtyard to give Nargothrond the radiance it lacked without the sun above it. The dragon’s massive head revealed its diamond like eyes and it regarded her thoughtfully before speaking again.
"Do not weep for him little mother," it repeated itself in that same bone shuddering voice. "He will be the master of all. I will make him a god and together we will rule Middle Earth as it was meant to be."
"He will not be my son!" Arwen shouted. "He will be Melkor! I have seen the vision of what his reign will wreak upon Middle Earth and it is a rule bathed in blood! I won’t let you take his soul!"
"There is very little you can do to prevent it," Glaurung replied calmly, having expected such desperate posturing at the moment of truth. "What will be will be. Once Melkor is inside of you, you will remain here until he is born. When you die, I shall return your son to Gondor, where he will take his place by his father’s side."
"NEVER!" Arwen screamed defiantly again. "His father is no fool! He will know the truth."
"He will know what I wish him to know," Glaurung returned smugly, his dragon’s teeth bared malevolently as he did so. "I will make him accept the child just as I made Turin marry his sister, Nienor."
Arwen stared at him, realizing at last with whom she was dealing with.
"Glaurung!" She gasped. "You are Glaurung!"
"I am glad you know me Evenstar," Glaurung nodded, smoke escaping his nostrils in short puffs as he did so. "Since we will be spending what remains of your life in close company."
"This will not succeed!" Arwen hissed. "You cannot watch me every second for the next nine months. If you destroy my son before he is born I will ensure that your Melkor will never know life in his skin! I will kill myself before I let you blight Middle Earth with his evil again!"
"You talk bravely," the dragon laughed, "but you will not know a moment alone until that child is freed from your body and if I must I will tear you open myself to acquire him when it is safe. You will not harm my future king." With that, Glaurung turned to his minion and said simply, "begin."
"No!" Arwen screamed in despair as the shape shifters came to her once more and began chanting the words that would begin the dark ritual and the transmogrification of her son into Melkor. She tried desperately to break free but she was trapped, completely and utterly. Not even the Sword of Turin that lay on a stone bench not far from where she lay could help her. It might as well have been ten thousand leagues away for her ability to reach it.
"Please! Don’t harm my baby!" She sobbed as she struggled, trying to ignore the chanting taking place around her.
Suddenly a sharp stabbing pain filled her body with such intensity that all she could do was scream as it pierced through her skin and ignited all her nerve endings with fire. Her scream tore through the air, like a knife cutting the air. Her knees tried to pull up, to brace herself against the pain spreading out from her womb to the rest of her. The chanting grew louder but Arwen no longer noticed it. Above her, Glaurung’s eyes gleamed in triumph.
"He is coming!" Glaurung exclaimed. "Melkor is coming from the void!"
As he finished that sentence, Arwen felt another agonizing spasm of pain that forced the air from her lungs in another pitched scream. Her hands gripped the ropes that bound her wrist, pulling on them as the pain become more than she could stand. She knew what was happening, she could feel the terror of her babe inside of her and felt her heart shatter because she could do nothing to help either of them. Each scream of pain uttered engendered the rejoicing of the Uruk Hai and the Orcs in attendance of the ceremony.
Blood started seeping out of her nose as she screamed, that damned chanting in her ears as they invoked dark powers to force Melkor into her body. With the rising fervor of their words, her pain increased until all she could hear were her own screams, half mired in agony, half begging for the life of her child. Desperate pleas that earned no compassion from those watching because their purpose was being served already. Her child meant nothing to them.
"ARWEN!"
She stopped screaming immediately, forgetting the pain as she turned her head and saw Aragorn at the far end of the courtyard. He was staring at her across the sea of Orcs and Uruk Hai, his face etched with the desperate need to know that she was alive. She could only imagine what her screams would have done to his state of mind upon hearing them. She had been ready to give up, she had been ready to succumb to the pain but that moment of weakness was over. She would fight with all her strength to save her baby because there was now hope because he was here!
Aragorn was here!
"Estel!" She cried desperately. "HELP US!"
The entire courtyard burst into chaos as the Uruk Hai and the Orcs rushed to meet the intruders. Arwen saw through her tears Aragorn drawing out the sword of Narsil and decapitating the first Orc that dared to enter his presence without thinking twice. With the blade that had once taken the ring from Sauron’s fingers and a smaller dagger in his other hand, she watched him fight his way through the forces of evil rallied against him. Arwen had never seen him in battle but she doubted that she would forget it. He was magnificent in his fury. He moved far swifter than any warrior, man or elf, using both hands to fight the enemies coming at him. He laid waste to Uruk Hai that came at him with their brutish weapons, stopping their blows with the sword before thrusting the dagger into their bodies to end the threat of them once and for all.
Another came at him from the right and Aragorn dropped low enough to avoid the swing that would have taken his head off before turning around and stabbing his dagger deep into the creature’s leg. The Uruk Hai howled in pain before Aragorn completed their battle by running him through with his sword. Throwing his fist back, he stopped in its tracks the Orc coming at him with a raised axed, causing the creature to stagger slightly before Aragorn swung around, his blade gleaming as it slice through the Orc’s throat and spurted black blood in all directions.
"Finish it!" Glaurung roared at his shape shifter servant, reminding Arwen that the ritual was not ended simply because Aragorn had arrived.
"No!" She wailed, refusing to allow this terrible thing to happen, not when they were so close to salvation.
The shape shifters resumed their chanting and Arwen felt that same terrible pain coursing through her, cutting short any protestations she might have about the ceremony. She threw her head back and uttered another blood curdling scream of exquisite agony as the invasive spirit entered her body. All of a sudden an arrow sliced through the air and ended the chanting just as her throat became hoarse and she was drained of the power to cry out again. Blood spurted from the shape shifter’s neck as it tumbled to the floor. Another arrow flew over her head and into the other shape shifters participating in the ritual. The accuracy and swiftness of the arrows could only belong to one person. She craned her neck and saw Legolas renewing his assault of arrows upon the shape shifters. Next to him was Melia and together they made a formidable combination as the performers of the ritual were killed off one by one.
Glaurung moved towards her, intending on snatching her away when suddenly he was flung backwards like a lizard being abused by a small and capricious child. The dragon howled in nothing less than fury as Arwen heard Gandalf shouting at Frodo and Sam to free her. Arwen realized that only Gandalf’s power could have dispatched the dragon so easily. Glaurung’s enormous crushed the wall upon which it had landed. Debris of stone fragments came loose as it shook away its disorientation and glared at the battle transpiring before it with nothing less then thunderous rage. Arwen struggled again, wanting desperately to be away from the fire breather for she had a sense that his actions from this point would be fueled by rage and the restraint he had shown her earlier might no longer hold sway now that his plans were in jeopardy.
"Hold on Miss," Arwen heard Sam’s voice next to her ear and tilted her head to see the halfing cutting away at the ropes holding her arms. "We’ll get you out of here."
"Can you walk?" Frodo asked as he did the same to the ropes around her feet.
"Yes," Arwen nodded, swallowing hard as her hands suddenly knew freedom. She sat up quickly and saw that Glaurung was almost upon them. "Frodo! Sam! Watch out!"
The two hobbits looked up and found themselves facing the dragon that had them in their sights. Frodo turned away from Glaurung, ignoring his terror and forcing himself to slice through the ropes binding Arwen to the stone altar. As soon as she was free, Arwen rolled off the table, landing on her feet just as Glaurung let lose a jet of fire at them. With little consideration of the pain that ached her body, she grabbed both the hobbits and dragged them under the slab of stone just as the fire washed over them.
Eowyn gazed across the courtyard and saw Aragorn’s efforts to reach Arwen stymied by the swarm of Orcs and Uruk Hai around him. Beneath the altar where the ritual was to be performed, she saw Arwen and the hobbits taking refuge with the dragon fast approaching them. The shape shifters had turned their attention to Gandalf attempting to distract him since he was the only one strong enough to deal with their master. He was fighting off them easily but was distracted from Arwen’s plight momentarily.
"Faramir!" She shouted at her husband who was at her side, hacking away at the Uruk Hai that was bent on claiming his head for its own.
Faramir blocked the blade coming down upon him and held the Uruk Hai in a deathly grip as he kicked out his leg, landing the ball of his foot on his opponent’s stomach and causing him to buckle. Pulling back his sword, he swung hard, shattering the enemy’s blade and taking the creature’s head with it. The Uruk Hai had no time to scream as it fell before Faramir who turned to his wife at her call when an Orc stabbed a blade in his direction. The Lord of Ithilien lashed out with his sword, tearing the weapon away from the foul being’s hands and completed the battle when he ran it threw with the blade.
"We need to get to Arwen!" Eowyn cried out.
Faramir looked across the floor at where Arwen was trying to protect herself and the hobbits from Glaurung’s rage and saw Gandalf’s preoccupation. "No," he shook his head. "We need to get to Gandalf."
Eowyn understood his meaning and together they fought their way through to the wizard. Eowyn saw a creature moving through the body of Orcs, Uruk Hai and the Fellowship, coming straight for her. She noticed that it changed shape as it approach, first appearing like an Orc then an Uruk Hai, rotating as it neared her rapidly. Eowyn guessed immediately that it was the weremen that had overcome them back in the cavern when she and Melia had been separated from Arwen. She held up her sword, trying to keep her eye upon it because it was difficult to focus when suddenly Faramir who had been standing next to her lowered his sword.
"We should leave," he replied.
"Leave?" Eowyn stared at him in shock. "Are you insane?"
"No," she shook his head. "This is the King’s problem."
Eowyn narrowed her eyes and made her decision there and then. Without thinking twice she thrust her blade forward, sinking it into his flesh. Driving her sword straight into his body, she did not halt her grisly advance until the blade met air on the other side of his back. He looked at her betrayed, his mouth opened to speak but the sound that came out was not her beloved voice’s but an unearthly howl that tore through her ears. The creature bearing Faramir’s face dropped to his knees before his features changed to that of the reptile like shape shifter that Melia had described.
"Have to do better than that, I’m afraid." Eowyn whispered and smiled to herself when she saw Faramir making short work of the Orcs that were keeping Gandalf from dealing with Glaurung. Stepping over the body of the dead shape shifter, she continued toward her husband and the wizard, killing anything that lay in her path to do so.
***********
"Arwen is pinned!" Legolas called out to Melia whose efforts as an archer were of the most use to help the Evenstar who was trapped under the altar with Sam and Frodo. Aragorn had sent him and Melia ahead because they had been the best able to dispatch the shape shifters who were carrying out the ritual for Glaurung, however, now that they were dispensed with, Legolas and Melia were faced with a larger problem; the dragon itself.
"Arwen!" Melia called out, hoping that she could hear the Ranger through all this noise. The Evenstar searched for the source of her name and fixed her gaze upon Melia an instant later.
"Be prepared to run!" Melia instructed and raised her crossbow so that Arwen would understand what she and Legolas intended.
Arwen nodded, issuing unheard warnings to the two halflings that had freed her. Melia turned to Legolas and exhaled a deep breath. "Are you as good with that thing as they say?"
"I have been known to be proficient," Legolas retorted pulling two arrows from his bow and taking aim at the dragon. "Are you?" He cast a sidelong glance at her with a brow raised.
"I did not shoot you, did I?" Melia replied sweetly and did the same with her crossbow.
"I will take that as a yes," he replied. "Aim for the belly. This isn’t a drake. Nothing will penetrate Glaurung’s hide, no matter how straight our arrows fly. Only his belly or the soft skin beneath his neck is truly vulnerable. I doubt we can fell him with arrows alone but the distraction will help Arwen and the others flee his presence."
"I follow your lead Prince," Melia answered with all seriousness in her voice.
Legolas fired first and impressed Melia with the perfection of his aim. Both arrows separated in mid flight, one striking the dragon’s flesh just above the belly where his heart was and the other in the beast’s neck. Glaurung roared with fury and turned his massive head in their direction as Melia took her shots. The bolts surged through the air, meeting their mark in the dragon’s belly. His pain echoed in his furious cry and his eyes blazed with red fire as he opened his mouth and he breathed out a terrible gust of heat.
"Oh hell!" Melia cried out as a blast of flame came rushing at them.
She felt Legolas’ arms around her waist, pulling her to the ground as the ball of fire came surging towards them. They both crashed heavily into the dirt as the fireball landed where they had been standing. There was little time to recover from the fall when another came in their direction. Once again, Legolas grabbed her and they were running for cover, barely avoiding the cascading waves of heat that not only set the ground on fire but also took any Orc or Uruk Hai in the vicinity with it.
"I think we upset it," Melia said breathing hard as they took refuge behind a column.
"Arrows do that," Legolas remarked wryly.
"Thank you," Melia swallowed thickly, seeing the flames burning in the place where they had been. "I do not think I would have moved fast enough to escape."
"Does that mean that you have finally decided to accept the aid of a Prince of Mirkwood?" He asked, smiling at her.
"I deserved that," she laughed. "If we survive this, I will make proper recompense. For now, did Arwen make it?"
Legolas stole a glance past the column and saw that Arwen was no longer cowering under the stone altar.
She, Frodo and Sam were hurrying away from Glaurung. The two hobbits were bravely fighting off the Orcs that were attempting to reach her. Legolas could not help but smile at how far they had come since setting off from Rivendell long ago. They were now warriors in their own right and were able to hold their own against the forces against them.
"Yes," he nodded. "But Glaurung’s attention does not linger too far from her," he replied seeing the dragon seeking out the Evenstar again. However, Glaurung’s next action struck cold fear into Legolas’ heart.
"ARAGORN!" He shouted.
