-Tauriel-
She collapsed, overcome by the fatigue that had overtaken her. Ever since she had stayed close to Aldril, it assailed her more frequently. She didn't know the reason, but her mother, Thalwen, had given her a small clue:
"Those with dormant blessings will awaken progressively… and more so when in contact with those who already have theirs awakened," Thalwen had told her in one of their morning talks.
She had processed those words, finding them somewhat strange.
"But mother," I said, "I've been with you, and you carry Yavanna's blessing… Why didn't I feel this way around you?"
It was a valid question, one that was answered only with her mother's enigmatic smile.
"Oh, my dear… that's because I belong to the old generation," was the last thing Thalwen said before leaving, called away by her queenly duties.
Yes, it was what I had suspected: I belonged to the new generation. Being near Aldril had stimulated the blessing I inherited from my father, causing these massive bouts of exhaustion… a clear sign that my blessing was about to awaken.
'But how soon?' I wondered. It wasn't until my consciousness drifted into a glade surrounded by lush forests, where the sun shone with an almost unreal brilliance.
I looked around, bewildered. Where was I? What was this place?
For some reason, I felt at peace… with a hint of nostalgia that gently pressed on my chest. As if something inside me missed this place, as if I had known it once before.
There was no need to be on guard. I didn't have to. Something in the air told me I could rest without fear of anything lurking nearby.
I took a deep breath, letting the pure air fill my lungs. The scent of the green trees felt like a soft perfume, born directly from nature. I closed my eyes and let myself fall onto the grass of the glade.
I didn't feel the impact. On the contrary, the ground was soft, warm, as if the forest itself offered a pillow for weary travelers.
It was so relaxing, so comforting… I wanted to merge with the serenity this place offered, to stay there, wrapped in its peace.
But my fantasies vanished when a majestic voice broke the silence, so commanding that even the wind, which had been gently lulling me, seemed to pause to listen.
"Daughter of Beleg, at last we meet."
---
-Dol Guldur-
The Nazgûl let out a high-pitched scream, one that would chill the blood of any living being. A shriek that carried an instinctive, primal fear, one that pierced the hearts of men and elves alike. But Aldril was different.
The fusion with Smaug's blood allowed him to resist that futile attempt to shatter his will. His draconic lineage ignited, as if the scream only served to stoke it further.
His eyes, glowing with a draconic light, blazed even brighter; the contained fury pulsed behind that gaze. How dared those wretched wraiths provoke him? Only the Witch-king deserved his attention. Only he could awaken a glimmer of danger in Aldril. But these… these were merely miserable shadows.
Without wasting a moment, he seized the opportunity.
He launched himself toward the wraiths with supernatural speed, leaping into the air as if invisible dragon wings had propelled him from the very ground. From above, he descended with both swords crossed, delivering a double slash that struck one of the Nazgûl directly.
The Ringwraith let out a scream that split the air, its body cloaked in black fabric tearing apart, unraveling into shreds that vanished in a dark mist. Like smoke from an extinguished fire, the shadow was hurled into the sky, dragged toward Mordor.
Aldril watched it without surprise. He knew he couldn't kill them… at least not yet. He could only banish them. Surely, they would return to Sauron.
The remaining Nazgûl showed no sign of hesitation. On the contrary, they took advantage of the gap left by their fallen companion and attacked as one entity. They surrounded him, their black swords raised.
The Nazgûl were fast and coordinated. If Aldril clashed swords with one of them, another would attack him from behind, and two more from the sides. Faced with such an assault, Aldril leapt away, distancing himself and landing with the grace and elegance of a swan.
"They're a nuisance," he muttered, gripping the hilts of his twin swords. He had greatly underestimated them. He may have repelled one with the advantage of surprise, but now it would be much harder to deal with them.
It was in that moment of intense focus that a prickling sensation of danger crawled over his scalp. He moved quickly, pouring all his strength into a slash aimed behind him. The impact was deafening, Aldril had blocked the attack of the Witch-king, who moved with the same swiftness as he did.
Anguirel flickered faintly upon contact with the dark weapon. The sword's will remembered facing such darkness before, it had defeated it once, but now it was being challenged again, and Anguirel's will didn't like that.
"Damn it," Aldril muttered, retreating from the Witch-king, not because he had been overpowered, but because of the Nazgûl, who struck at him while he focused on holding off their leader.
With agile movements, he climbed the broken structure of Dol Guldur, putting distance between himself, the Nazgûl, and the Witch-king.
'Guess it's time.'
[Rellana's Dual Magic LV 0 → LV 5]
---
-General-
The Elves who had accompanied Aldril hurried back to the camp. It had already been ten minutes since they'd left Dol Guldur, and night was falling fast. Time offered no respite. If they didn't hurry, Aldril would be at a disadvantage fighting in the dark, or so they believed.
Before long, they reached the camp, and without wasting a second, ran straight to Thranduil's tent. The flap burst open as the Elves stormed in, their faces filled with worry and palpable fear.
"My king, something terrible has happened!" one of them exclaimed, breathless.
King Thranduil was not angered by the interruption. Unlike many, he knew his men well, none of them would lose their composure without good reason. If something had shaken their calm, then the threat was real. He furrowed his brow, raising a hand to signal them to continue.
But before they could say another word, a cry pierced the air.
"What is that?!"
In the distance, from the towering fortress of Dol Guldur, a sudden eruption of fire and ice shot into the sky. It was so bright, so explosive, it seemed to proclaim the birth of a new magic in Middle-earth.
***
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