Anglachel

Strider was awake before everyone else the following morning. As he went out on the balcony, he saw that a gentle mist had descended on the city. The sun was only just beginning to break over the mountains in the distance, casting a soft orange glow behind them. He inhaled the dewy air, cold and crisp to the touch. He breathed deeply a few more times, trying to relax himself as best as he could.

The previous night had not been a pleasant one. All he could remember was that his sleep was wracked with nightmares that cut him to the marrow, sending him to places and times he had hoped were left in the past. All throughout the night, he continued to feel the shivering of his sword; Anglachel craved more and more blood.

-o-

"A weapon?" an old man asked, surprised that Strider would be asking such a thing of him.

"This one didn't last to long," Strider sighed, gently laying the broken pieces of a sword down. The blade had been through hell and back; the old man saw that it was broken into three pieces, with the tip of it burned black.

"And what exactly did you slay with this?" he asked in interest.

"Best I not tell you," Strider said with a short chuckle. "I need something more durable, though. This happens every few months."

"Perhaps if you didn't go so hard on them," the old man suggested.

"Then I might as well stop fighting," Strider said. "Come on, old man. I know you're good for it!"

"I've a name, you know," the old man sighed.

"I know. Back to the sword, though," Strider said with a grin. The old man sighed, rubbing his brows.

"The legendary swords are difficult to come by. Anduril, you know, is already taken; as is Glamdring and Orcrist. Some of them have been lost to memory; to find them would take years I'm afraid that even you don't possess. There is one that comes to mind - but it won't be easy," the old man said.

"What is it? And where?" Strider asked.

"Anglachel, the blade forged by Eöl, the Dark Elf from a rock that came form the heavens. It's mate, Anguirel, was stolen by his son so it remains a mystery. Anglachel, however, is rumored to be on Tol Morwen," the old man said.

"Tol Morwen? Where's that?" Strider asked.

"To the west - where Beleriand once stood," the old man said, sighing deeply as he sat down. He took a piece of sugar cane and began to chew on it, lost in memories of old. Strider allowed him to enjoy the moment before soft interrupting.

"Beleriand?" Strider asked. "That means this sword was forged during the First Age, then?"

"It was. Forged by Eöl, it was given as a gift to Thingol of Doriath as a thanks. Thingol, however, refused to use the blade so it stayed in storage until Thingol allowed Beleg to use it in his search for his friend, Túrin, who used it in a state of fervor to kill his friend. That sword is powerful, Strider. Keep in mind that this is no ordinary blade - it is one crafted during the First Age, by one of the most important elves of the era!" the old man said seriously.

"Was Eöl that notable, then?" Strider wondered.

"A great craftsman and blacksmith who learned his craft from the dwarves of the Age. The swords are considered his masterworks," the old man said.

"Tol Morwen…" Strider whispered.

"Go west of the Blue Mountains. You'll have to fly long to reach it; Tol Morwen is the westernmost islands that were created during the sinking of Beleriand," the old man said.

"I see. I'll set out as soon as I can, then," Strider said.

"I urge you to use caution when you go. That sword is not to be trifled with," the old man said.

"What do you mean?" Strider asked, intrigued.

"When Eöl created Anglachel, he used a stone that fell from the heavens as the base. Already, it was imbued with power. In creating it, however, Eöl poured his malice into the sword," the old man said, sighing heavily. "That blade is evil."

"Evil?" Strider asked, surprised.

"Evil and powerful. The legends say that it spoke to Beleg and Túrin as they used it; it wept as Túrin slew his friend. Throughout his life, the blade addled his mind as he used it during his wars - and Túrin, that fool, fought in so many wars. So many things happened to him with that sword, that he eventually threw himself on it. Mind that that wasn't the only reason; the mans life was an interesting one, but in his case that was more a curse," the old man said.

"Suicide?" Strider asked, surprised.

"Yes. With his last words, he asked the blade to kill him and put him to peace at last; and Anglachel agreed to do so. It was buried with him on Tol Morwen. The entire island is likely steeped in the blades anger; be careful when you go," the old man said.

"I will," Strider nodded before taking a seat. He stared at the old with with a strikingly resolve eye.

"What is it?" the old man inquired.

"Beleriand," Strider asked with a small smile.

"What of it?" the old man asked.

"The land itself is below the water, is it not?" Strider asked.

"It is," the old man nodded.

"In tact?" Strider wondered.

"Mostly, if I had to say. Some parts are utterly destroyed, but never doubt the craftsman of the First Age. They built things with a hand we've since lost. I imagine more of it is intact than the legends let on," the old man said.

"Morgoth," Strider began, eliciting a sharp eye from the old man. "He was able to raise mountain ranges from flat land, was he not?"

"He was. A powerful figure, to be certain," the old man said, watching Strider with a close eye. He paid attention to every line on his face, every movement of his eyes, mouth, and otherwise.

"If he was able to raise such peaks, wouldn't it be possible - for a powerful enough telekinetic - to raise Beleriand from the sea, then?" Strider asked. The old man paused before laughing uproariously. Strider smiled as he watch his mentor in such high spirits.

"Ah, that's a funny one, my boy. You can't be serious," the old man said.

"Hypothetically, then," Strider said. As the old man calmed down, he smiled warmly at Strider. While Strider was powerful, he wasn't anywhere near that powerful. However, he decided to humor him.

"Hypothetically, then - yes, it likely could be. The power of the telekinetic in question would have to be almost godlike, however. Beleriand is smaller than Middle-earth, but it's a significantly large landmass. To raise it would require time, patience, and power - in spades," the old man said.

"I see. Thanks, old man. I'm going to get some rest for now before I set out," Strider said.

"Strider," the old man said. Strider paused and turned, tilting his head curiously.

"What is it?" Strider asked.

"Be wary of that sword. You're strong, but it is as well," the old man said. Strider nodded before finally leaving. As he passed out of his eyesight, the old man sighed and leaned back as far as he could.

-o-

"And what is a Dúnedan doing here, if I might ask?" asked an old elven man as Strider set down in Lindon. The elf had white hair that fell past his shoulders as well a white beard; his eyes were keen as stars and his face wise.

"Greetings. I'm on my way to Forlindon. Simply making a rest stop," Strider said with a slight bow.

"And what is your business in Forlindon?" the elf wondered.

"To see what lays beyond," Strider answered.

"What lays beyond is simply water and memories of old," the elf sighed.

"A tragedy that is threatening the rest of the world now," Strider said, sighing as well before he took a seat on the harbor. "The Grey Havens. It's my first time seeing them."

As he looked out ahead on the harbor, it was a beautiful sight to behold. The elvish architecture and craft was apparent; from the beautiful arches bridges and walkways that ran over and across clear blue water; to the beautiful houses and and flora; to the fortresses entrenched in the distant mountains. Straight ahead from the pier were two beautiful watch posts and spires that stood as sentinel to the gateway that lay beyond. The sight nearly brought a tear to Strider's eye.

"It's a beautiful spot, is it not?" the man asked, taking a moment to admire it as well.

"I doubt I'd find a maiden as beautiful as it," Strider mused. "Forgive me for not introducing myself. My name is Strider."

"Círdan," he said. Strider knew the name but didn't press him for more.

"It's a pleasure, Círdan. I believe I met your attache in Rivendell not very long ago," Strider said.

"Ah, Galdor? Yes. I believe he's on his way back now as well. I had word that a group had already set out of Rivendell to complete a paramount task. Has the group been disbanded, then?" Círdan wondered.

"No. Not until any of us still live, at least - and I doubt even that would work for long," Strider said seriously. "Our company has had to part ways. I've a new task now."

"And what might that be?" Círdan asked.

"I'm afraid that's personal," Strider said.

"Personal enough that it would require you going beyond the edge of this world?" Círdan asked.

"Yes. Important enough that it would necessitate that," Strider said. He looked back at the elf and offered a smile before looking ahead again. "The end of the age is almost here."

"Yes. I can feel it as well," Círdan said with a sigh. "These old bones look forward to finally getting some rest."

"You don't look century over a few millennia," Strider said with a laugh. Círdan joined along before taking a seat on a nearby crate.

"You may learn that what you're looking for beyond these shores will still remain out of your reach," Círdan said.

"It's a risk I'm willing to take," Strider said.

"Is it a risk you're willing to take when the world is at stake?" Círdan asked. Strider paused, thinking about the question.

"It is," he said, looking at the elf directly. Círdan nodded slowly before turning his head back up at the harbor. Memories of old rushed through his head; those of a better and more peaceful time.

"Risks have been the ruin of many a men. Many an elf and dwarf as well," Círdan mused.

"They're also what led us to the peace we had for so long. Lack of resolve, perhaps, might be a more potent adversary," Strider said.

"Perhaps," Círdan said, although his tone betrayed a slight bit of sarcasm. "Will you stay for long?"

"Unfortunately not. I'll be gone within a few hours at most," Strider said.

"Allow me to bring you something for your travels, then," Círdan said, getting up.

"Please, you do—" Strider began, but Círdan had already taken his leave by then. With a sigh, Strider went back to his gazing.

-o-

"Thank you," Strider said, digging into a small piece of bread that Círdan had brought him.

"Not at all," Círdan said, nibbling the edge as well. "Lembas. A small piece will keep a grown man fed for days."

"So I've heard," Strider mused. "Can I ask you a question?"

"What is it?" Círdan wondered.

"What do you know about what lays beyond the Havens?" Strider asked.

"A fair bit. Once you leave the Gulf of Lune, you enter Belegaer. The land use to be Beleriand until it was sunk so long ago. Only a few islands remain in-between until you reach Valinor," Círdan said.

"Tol Morwen?" Strider wondered.

"The final resting place of Túrin and his sword," Círdan said, a curious look in his eye.

"How far is it from here?" Strider asked.

"What's your interest in it?" Círdan asked. Strider didn't reply, looking back out toward the gulf. "I see. Tol Morwen is off the northwestern coast, so you'll still have to travel a bit further north. It juts out from the ocean, it's highest point a sharp peak. The island itself isn't very large."

"How will I know?" Strider asked.

"You simply will. There is a special place on the island," Círdan said.

"A special place?" Strider wondered. Círdan nodded.

"There is a monument there called known as the Stone of the Hapless. It serves as a memorial to the memories of Túrin, his sister Niënor, and their mother Morwen. The tale is long and I shall not repeat it in full - but the gist of it is that when Túrin learned that he had bedded his own sister, it was what drove him to his death. Their poor mother," Círdan sighed. "Losing her daughter and son so close together, and under less than auspicious circumstances."

"All three are buried there?" Strider wondered.

"Túrin and Morwen are. The sisters body was never found," Círdan sighed.

"Have many made the journey?" Strider asked.

"Indeed, to pay their respects for Túrin. Do you intend to do the same, then?" Círdan wondered.

"Similar. I intend to put his legacy to use, at least," Strider said, standing up.

"I see. And how will you get there? I'm afraid there aren't many that will make the crossing, especially at this time," Círdan said. Strider smiled and began to levitate a bit, surprising Círdan.

"I've my own way of travel," Strider said.

"Interesting. You're certainly not like any other man or wizard," Círdan said with a smile. "Careful, though. The waters are always hazardous."

"I will. Thank you, Shipwright," Strider said with a slightly larger smile before he jutted towards the north. Círdan watched him go, a look of interest on his face.

-o-

As Strider flew, the wind and rain lashed at his face.

'Thank good for telekinesis,' he thought, doing his best to keep some of the rain away. Truth be told, he enjoyed the feeling. The rain was sharp as he flew, almost cutting; the wind cold and crisp. In the distance, he saw an island as Círdan had described to him. A large stony peak rose from the water, sloping back into a more level terrain. There were a few trees, he noted; the island, however, was indeed small.

Strider landed atop the peak and took in his surroundings. As far as he could tell, he was the only living thing there. He heard and saw no animal or bird; and besides the rain on the ground, the wind in the air, and the rustling of leaves, there was simper no other sound to speak of. He slowly began to descend, getting more of a feel for where he was.

As he continued his descent, Strider suddenly stopped. Ahead of him by a few hundred meters was a large stone that jutted out of the ground. It was an odd sight to see something so different from the rest of the landscape; there weren't any other large boulders or rocks - and the area around the stone seemed to be cleared. As Strider got closer, he noted an inscription on the stone.

"Túrin Turambar, Bane of Glaurung. Niënor Níniel. Here lies also Morwen Eledhwen," Strider read aloud. "This must be it."

Strider stepped away from the stone a bit and sighed deeply before sitting down. He looked at the stone and the ground underneath it, contemplating what he was about to do. In any other situation, he would've chosen not to do it - but he couldn't ignore what was going on in his homeland.

"Forgive me," he whispered. "I'll return the blade when I can. But right now, I need it more than you do."

Strider stood up and pointed his hand at the wet earth. It began to shift and rumble before being gently removed and put aside. Looking in, Strider sighed. He saw two sets of skeletons, laid next to each other. One was hold a blade that was hidden in a pristine black scabbard; the other simply had their hands folded across their breasts. Strider leaned down and gently removed the scabbard and sword from Túrin's long cold hands. Taking care, he poured the earth back on the decayed bodies.

Taking a few steps back, Strider paused. Gripping the scabbard tight, he put his other hand on the grip of the sword.

It was as though an overwhelming rush of fury passed through him. Strider took in a sharp intake of breath as he felt the anger and hatred that radiated from the sword and into him. With a mighty pull, he wrested it free of its home. The black blade shone menacingly, even in the stark cold around him. He saw no wear or tear along the sword; the cross guard was beautiful and pristine, as was the black grip and pommel. The scabbard was in the same nice condition; it was a beautiful black with three rings close to the opening. Slinging it around his waist, Strider ran a finger down the length of the blade - and immediately, he cut himself.

His surprise was amplified as he saw the blood disappear - into the blade!

"What's going on…?" he whispered. He trailed a little more blood across the black sheen and again, it happened - the blade absorbed his blade, it's color never dulling and not a drop showing.

Suddenly, Strider understood what the old man said. It started out as a low whispering in his ear but grew more and more audible as the seconds passed on. The blade began to shiver and and quiver in his hand, growing more and more erratic. Strider grasped it more tightly and listened closely, trying his best to filter out the extraneous stimuli. As he listened closer, he noticed the bade begin to glow a menacing black.

'You wake me from my sleep,' the sword said to Strider, almost telepathically. Strider blinked a few times, thinking he was hearing things. He held the blade closer to his ear, his heart beating a bit faster.

'I require your help,' Strider replied to the sword. The sword shivered again. Strider felt a bit uneasy; it was as though the sword were trying to judge him.

'Very well,' the sword said.

'That's it? You've nothing else to say? To ask?' Strider asked, surprised.

'I know why you separated me from him. I know what it is you seek. I seek it as well. Use me well, Númenórean - I shall do the same,' the sword said before pausing. 'Your name?'

'Strider,' Strider replied.

'Anglachel,' the sword whispered back to him. It was then he felt it in full; the hatred and anger that radiated from the sword. The sword fixated him on one thing and one thing only. Strider rolled his neck, a wave of excitement passing over him. He felt that things would soon change in Middle Earth. Putting the sword back in his scabbard, Strider suddenly erupted from the island and headed towards the mainland, intent on putting his new partner to use at last.

-o-

Strider was sitting on a rocky outcrop, his cloak billowing in the wind. Anglachel's tip was driven resting against the ground and he leaned his head on the pommel, looking straight ahead at the advancing orcs. Night had descended and evil was working it's way across the land. The mottled grey skin of the orc was obvious even in the dark, however; and their fondness for loud and brusque movement only helped him.

With hardly any maneuvering, Strider had cut through three of them. Their heads were easily separated from their bodies and black blood seeped out from the stumped necks left in its wake. Anglachel absorbed each drop of blood, happy at the feast it was receiving under Strider's ownership.

One orc remained and it faced Strider, a snarl on its lips. As it brought down a heavy iron sword, Strider cleaved it in two. He began to pepper the orc with stabs, taking pleasure in the anguished screams. He stopped just short of killing it, however, and pushed it against a large boulder.

"Where is Black Hand now?" Strider whispered to it.

"G-Gundabad. Mount Gundabad," the orc said, wheezing in pain. Strider nodded and quickly ended its life.

'Gundabad,' Strider thought softly. The stronghold was north of the Misty Mountains and south-east of Angmar, as he had recalled - and under complete control of the orcs.

'Let us go to Gundabad,' Anglachel whispered to Strider.

'Eager?' Strider asked.

'So much blood will be spilled, that I shall not want for days,' Anglachel said.

'Days,' Strider scoffed. His sword was always thirsty and always wanting more.

-o-

"You're going to Gundabad?" the old man asked.

"I am. An orc said that Black Hand was there," Strider said.

"How long ago?" the old man asked.

"A few days," Strider answered.

"Even for you, the trek to Gundabad will take at least a couple of weeks - and Angmar is still steeped in evil that doesn't sleep. And do not forget that Gundabad isn't a town overrun by a dozen orcs - it's one of the great orc strongholds! Even for you, taking the fortress will be a nigh-impossible task on your lonesome! And your telekinesis isn't at the point at which you can simply fell the mountain," the old man said.

"Want to come with me, then?" Strider asked.

"Certainly not. I am an old man, after all," he said.

"So is Gandalf," Strider reminded him.

"The wizard has always been spryer than I," the old man sighed.

"Ha. Fine. I'm planning on taking a few friends with me," Strider said.

"Ah. Talion and Celebrimbor, then. The Ranger and the Wraith - an odd pairing," the old man said. "Who else?"

"I'll ask Lord Thranduil if he wouldn't mind parting from home for a few weeks as well," Strider said.

"I see. And with a few of his elves, it should be more than enough. Yes, I see. Very well," the old man said.

"I'll see you around then, old man," Strider said, about to take his leave.

"Strider," the old man suddenly said.

"Hmm?" Strider wondered.

"How is the sword?" the old man asked, his eyes traveling to the scabbard. Strider gave him a wry smile.

"We're working it out. Later, old man," Strider said, quickly taking his leave.

-o-

"Hell of a company you put together," Talion said as he came up behind Strider. The two sat perched on a peak, surrounded by char black mountains. In the distance, Strider could make out three rising peaks - Mount Gundabad. In front of it, he could make out small embers and fires.

"On this one, I needed help," Strider said with a smile. Looking behind, he saw the company; Lord Thranduil had come along specially, along with some of the elves from the Woodland realm. Mixed in with them were lead by Brand, King of Dale and grandson of a great bowman; and Dáin II, leading a company of dwarves.

"Do you think Black Hand is still there, then?" Talion wondered.

"I'm not sure. That said, it's an important stop for all of us. This place leads to Angmar and it's better if we have control of it than the orcs," Strider said before getting up. "Is everyone well rested?"

"AYE!" they yelled out at him, springing up.

"Mount Gundabad once belonged to the dwarves and by the end of this battle, I intend to see that restored! Men, elves, or dwarves - we've one thing in common and that's that we've lost people we love to those bastards down there!" Strider yelled. Those in the crowd agreed angrily with him; day after day, week after week, month after month; someone would encounter an orc or Uruk and pay the ultimate price.

"I say: NO MORE! The orcs there pose a threat to the dwarves, elves, and men that call this place home - and tonight, we drive them out! Prepare yourself for battle!" Strider yelled before he began walking down a path. Talion, Thranduil, Dáin, and Brand walked in stride with him.

"I am surprised to see you here, Lord Thranduil," Brand said nervously.

"Perhaps not as surprised as Dáin," Thranduil mused. "While these orcs do not present a threat to my kingdom, their presence upon my doorstep is enough for me to want to be rid of them."

"Are you alright, my lord?" Strider asked quietly. Thranduil looked at him before offering a small smile. Strider simply nodded and kept walking along.

"You must be feeling happy about this, Dáin?" Thranduil asked the dwarf.

"Aye," the dwarf nodded. "Never thought I'd be fighting alongside ye, Elvenking."

"Not since that fight after the dragon was slain," Thranduil said.

"It's about time Gundabad came back to us dwarves," Dáin said gruffly before looking behind him. "Hell of a fighting force."

"Strider does well in whipping up support for his little conquests," Thranduil said.

"You make it sound worse than it is, my lord," Strider sighed.

"I intended it as a complement," Thranduil said with a light smile. "It is true, however. Dol Guldur, Mount Gram, the clearing of the High Pass, the clearing of Fornost. I wonder what lies ahead for you after Gundabad?"

Strider simply smiled at the Elvenking before continuing ahead a bit. Talion caught up to him quickly, curious as well.

"How far do you intend to take it?" Talion asked.

"How far are you willing to go?" Strider countered.

"As far as need be," Talion answered.

"As far as need be. Angmar is next; and then, Umbar," Strider said.

"Angmar?" Talion asked, intrigued.

"Scared?" Strider asked with a grin.

"Wishful, more like," Talion said with a chuckle. The two finally drew their blades, their eyes and mouths beginning to burn a bright blue as they finally closed in on Gundabad. As it fell within sight, they began running towards the fortress. Because of it's location, it would've had a fair amount of orcs but likely none would pose a significant threat. Strider was able to keep their footfall quiet with his telekinesis; and before they knew it, they were upon the orcs.

-o-

Strider hacked and slashed with a insurmountable fury. It wasn't long until he was completely covered in the blood of the orcs. He could hear his swords excitement deep in his mind; Anglachel was happy to be getting a veritable feast tonight. Thunder resounded through the sky as fires were lit across the fortress.

He saw Talion sever an orcs head from its body and raise it high for all to see. Elsewhere, Thranduil glided across the field, not a single drop of blood on him as far as Strider could tell. His sword was glimmering light on the dark and stark battlefield. Next to him, Strider saw Brand put an arrow through an orcs mouth and saw Dáin deal a crushing blow to the skull of another, caving it in.

The howls of the enemy reverberated through the fortress, letting loose lingering mounds of snow in the peaks around them. In the corner of his eye, Strider saw a small team of orcs break free from the carnage and run away. He pursued them for a few hundred meters before they finally stopped, licking their lips in angry.

"You're surrounded, Dúnedan!" one of the orcs snarled at him.

"All I am surrounded by is fear and dead orc," Strider whispered before thrusting his hand at the one that spoke. The head twisted, echoing a disconcerting snap. While the orcs were surprised by the attack, he quickly cleaved the heads off two more before stepping back into the center, slowly turning.

'ORCS IN FRONT, ORCS BEHIND, ORCS ON EITHER SIDE! KILL THEM! I WANT THEIR BLOOD TONIGHT! MORE!' Anglachel roared in his mind. It was the loudest the sword had ever gotten and it gave Strider some pause. However, he decided not to disobey. The orcs soon bounded on him, putting him the defense.

'YOU WILL USE ME TO SLAY THEM!' Anglachel ordered.

'I command you, not the other way around,' Strider snarled back. Still, he obeyed. He jumped back and back, side to side, deflecting or dodging the attacks. While his telekinesis would've made otherwise short work of the enemy, he had seemingly forgotten about it; all he wanted was to drive his sword through them. Finally, an opening presented it self. With his back almost to a wall, Strider locked swords with the next attacked before leaning to the side a bit and smashing their face into the wall. He followed it up with a crushing blow from the pommel before running the blade through another. Anglachel absorbed the blood and continued to do so as Strider's slashes and stabs became more and more wild. He seemed not to notice that a few of the orcs had landed some blows on him. His cloak had mostly protected him, although it began to tatter as the fight raged on.

Finally, he force the last of the enemy on his knees and rested the sword on his neck.

"Where's Black Hand? I know you know! TELL ME!" he roared at it.

"Mat!" the orc yelled - die, in it's language.

"You first," Strider whispered. He brought Anglachel up and cleaved the orc down its shoulders, stopping for a bit to let his sword lap up the blood. Looking ahead, he continued to hear the echoes of pain and anger; sure his work was almost done, he headed back into the fray.

-o-

"I thought they'd pose more of a challenge," Thranduil sighed, cleaning his blade and sheathing it.

"I'm a bit disappointed," Talion sighed, looking to the west. Even here, he could feel it.

"There lies Angmar," Thranduil said softly.

"WE DID IT, LADDIES!" Dáin yelled to his companions. The dwarves let out a loud cheer, their excitement at a fever pitch.

"The dwarves seem excited," Brand said.

"They've reclaimed one of their old homes. It's an important win for them," Thranduil said.

"And how are you faring, Elvenking?" Strider wondered. Thranduil smiled and nodded.

"A far sight better than I have in a long, long time, Strider. I thank you for the invitation," Thranduil said. Strider smiled and bowed to the mighty king, happy to have had his assistance.

"Dáin, I'll leave the rest to you, then?" Strider asked the dwarf.

"Aye, laddie. We'll get this place up and running in no time. No orc is going through here anymore," Dáin said, shaking Striders hand. "And where are ye off to?"

"Going to dig in a bit deeper to look for some stragglers. Talion and I will take care of it," Strider said.

"I shall take a contingent of my elves and going the opposite direction, then," Thranduil said, looking at where they had just come from. He was sure that a few had probably escaped.

"My men and I can take care of it, my lord," Brand offered.

"This I would prefer to see to personally. With me!" Thranduil ordered, setting out immediately.

-o-

"Celebrimbor?" Strider wondered, noticing that Talion's eyes and mouth were blazing blue.

"It is I," Celebrimbor said.

"Lord Thranduil must be happy," Strider said with a smile.

"His wife was left to rot in this place. Those few orcs that escaped will not fall without knowing her pain," Celebrimbor mused.

"I certainly hope not," Strider said.

"Why have you come this way, however? Even the bravest orcs will not venture this way without reason," Celebrimbor said. Especially in his diminished state, he could feel the horrors and evil of the land surrounding him.

"Just…a feeling, I guess. You may be right. But I want to make sure. One orc escaping is one to many," Strider said.

"On that, I concur," Celebrimbor said. "You and your sword seem to take to each other well."

"Hmm? Yeah, I suppose we do," Strider said, turning the blade over in his hands a few times.

"Take care with it. I advise you to return it as soon as the war is done," Celebrimbor advised.

"You worry to much," Strider sighed. "Did you learn anything from the orcs?"

"Bits and pieces. One said - and another confirmed - that the Black Captains were going to Fornost."

"In Arnor?" Strider asked, stopping.

"Correct. Perhaps that should be our next destination," Celebrimbor suggested.

"Right. Let's head out there after we get some rest, then," Strider suggested.

"Very well. I shall head back to camp now, however," Celebrimbor said, wistfully looking in the distance.

"Alright. I'll catch up with you soon, then," Strider said, continuing on his way through the mountains, towards Angmar.

-o-

As Talion/Celebrimbor took his leave, Strider levitated and flew north for a bit before stopping in. In the distance, he saw the Iron Mountains - and notably, Thangorodrim, a group of three large and active volcanos. Even from the distance, they looked dreadful and imposing, their mighty black peaks piercing the air and surrounding the lower land in shadow. Strider could make out rivers of running lava and black smoke rising in the far air. He breathed it all in; the air had a different quality to it here than anywhere else.

'Angband,' he heard his sword say.

"Hmm," Strider hummed. He knew the fortress was close by and and underground, save for the entrance that lay somewhere entrenched in the volcanos.

'This will come later,' Strider thought, swiveling Anglachel in his hands.

-o-

"Hey. You there?" Strider heard Bisca say. He snapped out of his funk and looked at her, blinking a few times before offering her a small smile.

"Yeah, sorry about that. Was just reminiscing," he said, slinging an arm around her and pulling her close.

"Happy thoughts?" she asked.

"Very happy," Strider said. "That said, I hope didn't ignore you for to long. That wouldn't make me very happy."

"Nah, I just got out here as well," Bisca said, kissing him on the cheek. "Any plans for today?"

"I promised Mira and Cana a few days ago that I'd take them out. We should be training, but no fun in that," Strider said.

"Says the guy who'll probably win the fight," Bisca sighed.

"I dunno. If Asuka enters…" Strider said, picking up the little girl who was trying to climb his leg yet again. "…I might be outmatched."

"Take that!" Asuka giggled, shooting Strider point blank in the face with her toy gun. She landed a shot clear on his forehead, eliciting a chuckle from him.

"I'm lucky that wasn't an actual bullet, otherwise this would've been an end to my story," he said. "Asuka's gotten closest to being my end than anyone, it seems."

"I'm not letting her get near live ammo for another decade, at least," Bisca sighed, taking her daughter in her arms again. "What do you want to do today, sweetheart?"

"I want to play with Wendy!" Asuka shouted as the young Dragon Slayer came out.

"I don't mind!" Wendy chimed. She had grown close to the little girl over the last couple of days.

"Thanks, Wendy, but you should enjoy yourself," Bisca said.

"Mama, you can come too!" Asuka declared.

"I was just going to go hang out with Shelia. Asuka can come along too!" Wendy said.

"I guess I'll tag along," Bisca sighed before turning back to Strider. "I'll see you later."

"Take care," Strider nodded. Rapping on the balcony a couple of times with his knuckles, he sighed heavily and exited soon as well.

-o-

"Hey," Cana said as she met up with Strider.

"Hi," he said, kissing her on the cheek. "It's been a while since we've had some time with each other."

"No kidding," Cana sighed, taking his arm in hers and leading him on the path out of Crocus, into the forest. "How're you feeling?"

"Pretty good, overall. Just a bit achy from that fight against the dragons, but that's it. What about you? Everyone took some hard knocks that night," he said.

"I was just scratched up a bit - nothing to bad," she said, resting her head on his shoulder. "I think I was more worried about you after that whole thing than I was fighting the dragons."

"You should know me better than that by now," Strider said.

"I guess, but that doesn't mean I won't worry," Cana said seriously.

"I appreciate it," Strider said quietly. Cana smiled and gave him another kiss on the cheek before resuming their walk.

"Curiously, where are we going?" Strider wondered.

"I read something about a nice little waterfall in the forest. Thought we'd just relax there," she said.

"Works for me. That said, shouldn't you be training for the Contest?" Strider asked.

"I will tomorrow," Cana sighed. "Ugh. You, Jura, Erza, Mira, Natsu, Gray, Laxus, Gajeel…and so many others. We're gonna have our work cut out for us."

"A great strategy can fell even the strongest warrior," Strider said.

"Guess we'll see," Cana said in a sing song voice.

"You seem more confident about it than you're letting on," Strider mused.

"You'll see," she said again with a giggle.

-o-

As they reached the waterfall, Cana began to take off her clothes and get in the pool, wearing just a black bikini. She turned around and gave Strider a seductive look before slowly lowering herself in, exhaling as the cold water brushed gently against her skin. Strider smirked and followed, exhaling happily as he got settled. Cana quickly got comfortable around him, resting her head against his chest as she ran her hands across the water.

"Strider," she suddenly said.

"What's up?" Strider asked.

"You're going back to your home in a few months, right?" she asked.

"I likely will be. Only for a short while, though. I'll come back soon," he said.

"I get that. I was just wondering…can I come with you?" she asked quietly.

"What?" Strider asked, surprised.

"Can I come with you? To your home, I mean," she said.

"I…ummm…" Strider trailed off.

"I'm curious to see what it's like," she said.

"I'll give it some thought. It's not the easiest journey," Strider said.

"You'll be using your powers, right?" she asked.

"Sure, but even that can go awry - more so with more people. There's not a lot of places or times to rest," he said.

"Just…give it some thought," she said.

"I will," Strider said quietly.

'I wonder what they'd think of it?' Strider wondered to himself. His home was certainly beautiful, but he wasn't sure that it was a good idea to take anyone there just yet.

Cana soon pulled a bottle from her bag. She took a swig and offered some to Strider, who gladly obliged.

"When did you start drinking?" he wondered.

"Hmm…I think I was 13?" she said.

"That's pretty young," Strider said, surprised.

"Fairy Tail's pretty chill, if you haven't noticed," she giggled. "I don't remember how I got started, really. I think it was around the time that I wanted to tell Gildarts who I was, but just…couldn't. One thing led to another and it became a problem."

"So I've heard. Mira mentioned to me once that 30% of the alcohol budget is just for you," Strider said with a laugh.

"Hey, I bring in my fair share of jewel," Cana scoffed.

"What about spending that jewel at bars, then?" Strider asked.

"The best alcohol is at Fairy Tail. No doubt about that," Cana said.

"You've been at the guild for how long, now?" Strider wondered.

"Mmm…I think it's been 19 years now. Before Erza, Natsu, Gray, or Mira joined, that's for sure. I remember that Gray was a stripper, even back then," Cana sighed, rubbing her temples a bit. "I was the one who always had to scold him whenever he did it."

"Guess some things never change," Strider chuckled.

"Nope. Natsu's still the little kid he always was; Erza was quiet back then, but still responsible. Mira's the one that changed the most; a lot nicer now. She was a bit a bitch back then," Cana giggled.

"What about before Fairy Tail?" Strider wondered.

"Hmm? Oh…Let's see…" Cana said, shifting a bit. "I…stayed at some orphanages around Magnolia for a while, after my mother died. They took really good care of me; it also helped that the town itself has always been really nice. Before that, I lived with my mother, though."

"What was she like?" Strider wondered, holding her a bit tighter. Cana was thankful for the embrace; she leaned back a bit more, getting a bit more comfortable.

"She was…kind. Beautiful. I was six when she died - I still don't know what happened, except that she had gotten sick. She told me about Gildarts, but he was a the Guild Hall so rarely that I never really had the time to tell him. Then whenever I did see him, I just didn't have the courage to. Here was my dad, this super strong wizard that everyone knew - and then there was me, some random kid who barely knew anything about him. I…thought I couldn't tell him until I got stronger," Cana sighed.

"Do you regret not telling him sooner?" Strider asked.

"Yeah. A lot," Cana said. "We could've spent so much more time together."

"Are you mad at him at all?" Strider asked.

"Not really, honestly. I don't think he knew about me - and he's pretty dumb, so I wouldn't expect him to know how making babies works," Cana sighed, eliciting a chuckle from Strider; she was barely kidding. "But no, I'm not mad at him. Still, I'm gonna kick his ass for sure during the Contest."

"I think you might have a good shot at that," Strider said.

"What about your dad? I…noticed you don't really talk about your parents that much. I understand if you don't want to, it's just…" Cana trailed off. Strider sighed, resting his head on her shoulder. Cana brought her hand to his head, gently playing with his hair as she patiently waited for him to answer.

"I don't really remember much about him or my mother. I was pretty young when they both died. All I know is we lived in a pretty small village that was overrun by the enemy. He was a ranger and she was the daughter of a farmer. At this point, I can't really remember their faces either," Strider said.

"Did you try to learn more about them?" Cana asked.

"A long, long time ago. I stopped, eventually. I…just wanted to move on at a certain point," Strider said.

"Mira mentioned something about you living a few hundred years because of your ancestry," Cana said.

"That was one of the things that I did learn. Both of my parents descended from a line of men and women that had an extended lifespan. That in turn passed on to me," Strider said.

"Even though you just told me, it's still insane," Cana sighed.

"As insane as being able to call lighting from a magic card?" Strider asked.

"Ha. Touché," Cana giggled. She exhaled deeply as she leaned back a bit more and brought his hands into hers. "You know, every other time you and I have had some time together, we've been interrupted."

"Don't I know it. Perhaps I should have been a bit more adventurous that first night I stayed with you," Strider said.

"Like I would've let you," Cana giggled, turning around. She smiled as she put her arms around his neck and her legs around his waist. Strider smiled and turned around, her back against the edge of wall. They were both silent, interrupted only by the light crashing of the water into the pool below. Finally, Cana closed the distance between them - something she had been wanting to do for a long time.

As she kissed him, she weaved a hand through his hair and to keep him in place. She felt his hands descended down her body, tightly grabbing her ass as he returned the kiss passionately.

"Mmm," Can moaned, feeling his tongue enter through her parted lips. She wrapped her legs tighter around his waist, thrusting him as close as possible. Letting go of his hair, she traced the scars along his back with her fingers while her stomach felt the scars along his front.

Strider broke the kiss and began to move down her neck, roughly pulling her hair to the side, taking pleasure in the continued moans of pleasure she sung out. As he got back to her lips, Strider hoisted her up and left the pool. He quickly took her to the ground, her legs wrapped around his waist. As he began to undo the string that held her bikini together, however, Cana stopped him.

"That's for later," she said seductively.

"I'm good with now," Strider said.

"I know," Cana giggled, kissing his cheek before going to his ear. "But that's no fun for me. Like I said, I may look easy, but I'm not."

"That's no fun for me," Strider grumbled.

"Disappointed with kissing me, then?" she asked with a slight pout.

"Yeah right," he said with a grin, going back to her lips with more passion. Cana giggled into the kiss, rewrapping herself around him as she continued the clash with his lips and tongue.

-o-

"You're certainly going to make me work for it," Strider sighed as they headed back to Crocus.

"And hard," Cana said in a sing song voice. "But what did you think of today?"

Strider stopped and slung his arm around her, pulling her close. Cana smirked and clicked her tongue, leaning up and giving him another kiss. Even as they parted lips, she kept hers close to his, her breath tickling him.

"Got it," she said. As she leaned back, she saw that his eyes were full of passion for her - the exact response she wanted.

"What now, then?" he wondered.

"Think I'll go train. Mira's probably still with Lucy, though," Cana said.

"Got it. Well, enjoy. I'll see you soon," Strider said, giving her one more for the road.

-o-

As he got back to the hotel, Strider came across Erza.

"Hey, Erza," Strider said warmly.

"Strider! I am so sorry about last night!" Erza said, giving him a tight hug. Strider sighed but smiled, returning the hug.

"It's fine," he said. "Forgive me. It's…a very sensitive topic for me."

"I understand. There's no rush to say anything," she said.

"Are you heading to your room?" he asked.

"I am. Would you like to join?" she asked.

"Sure," Strider shrugged.

As they got settled, Erza hugged her knees to her chest, looking at him contemplatively.

"What is it?" Strider asked quietly.

"It's nothing. Just…sorry. I can't stop thinking about it," Erza sighed.

"It's fine," Strider nodded.

"It's not. I've no right to act like this, yes…" Erza trailed off, rubbing her face with her hands. Strider sighed and moved to the bed, putting an arm around her.

"It's fine," he said, giving her a kiss on her head. Erza sighed at his touch and leaned in. Looking at the nightstand, Strider suddenly let out a laugh.

"Still reading this, then?" he asked, picking up the erotic literature.

"IT'S NOT THAT!" she squealed, quickly throwing the book across the room.

"We all have our desires," Strider said, happy for the change in topic. "I just didn't know yours was you being domina—"

"If you finish that sentence, I will separate your head from your body," Erza said, materializing a sword in her hands. It suddenly flew from her hands, however, as Strider soon had her on the bed and towered over her.

"Oh? Are you sure about that, Miss Scarlet?" he asked in a husky tone. Erza blushed a bright red that matched her hair, eliciting a laugh from Strider. He leaned down closer and closer until their lips were almost touching. She could feel his hair tickling against her cheek, his eyes full of the passion he had a few nights ago when he kissed her.

"Telekinesis works pretty well to bind, you know. Don't even need ropes like in the book," he chuckled.

"That sounds…uh…ummm…" Erza said, flustered. Strider laughed, getting off to the side next to her. Erza grumbled before turning to face him.

"It's a bit early to be going back to sleep," she said. Nonetheless, she put an arm around him and leaned in a bit closer.

"Yeah, but not to early for a nap, I think. Care to join?" he asked, caressing her cheek.

"Y-Y-You mean sleep together?!" Erza asked, turning red again.

"Nap together," Strider said with a laugh. "Although, if you want to get technical, then yes, I suppose so."

"Well, it's just you and I—and we—and the others…" she babbled, flustered.

"I promise not to try anything if you won't," Strider said.

"It—fine," Erza said, smiling slightly. She felt Strider bring her in a bit closer and she happily leaned in. Resting her head against his chest, she felt surprisingly comfortable.

"This…" Erza began softly.

"Hmm?" Strider asked.

"I don't think I've ever slept with someone like this is all," she said quietly.

"Sweet dreams, Erza," Strider said, tilting her head up and giving her a soft kiss. Erza was surprised but returned it with just a much soft passion. As they parted, she looked at him with longing - and saw the same look in his eyes. But as much as she wanted to continue the kiss - and have it evolve into something much deeper - she found that her current position was just to nice to pass on.

"You too, Strider," Erza said, softly closing her eyes. She smiled as she felt Strider gently running a hand through her hair. It was a warm feeling she couldn't recall having ever felt before - and wanted to experience it for as long as possible.

It was a good thirty minutes before Strider saw that Erza was asleep. Her lips were curved in a gentle smile as part of her hair covered her eyes. Her heard was against his chest as one of her hands clenching onto his shirt. Strider smiled and got just as comfortable before slipping into sleep as well.

He tried his best to ignore Anglachel rattling gently on the nightstand.