Current situation: As Logan works to bring the Forces of Ondolindë to Molly’s aid the battle for Nevrast grows more desperate. Molly’s plan is working, yet she faces almost impossible odds; a numerically superior force and possibly treachery from within. Has Molly’s luck run out or will Logan arrive in time?

Author Note:

1: This story is based on the Altered Fates Universe concept established by Jennifer Adams, however I’ve taken some artistic liberties so this story doesn’t strictly adhere to the rules Jennifer established.

2: This is also a fanfic of the J.R.R. Tolkien world of Middle Earth in an untold tale of the First Age. Please note; I didn’t stay completely true to the Middle Earth that Tolkien set up. This is my take on what Middle Earth in the First Age might have been like.

Molly looked out over the battlefield and knew that this time his planning and luck had run out. Molly’s forces were trapped between the two armies of Orcs and outnumbered twenty to one. It had taken Gothmog a fortnight to break through Lanthir’s defenses and in his rage he’d set the village aflame. Molly had thought that he would pursue the defenders as they fell back. Instead, Gothmog had turned and rushed in a series of rapid forced marches toward Molly.

Inwardly, Molly cursed his own foolishness! He’d been so sure of Gothmog’s next action that he’d quit flying out to do aerial reconnaissance. Instead, he’d spent much of his time in the furs with Tanna because the fight between his army and Kâlraug’s had settled into a contest of probing each other’s forces and waiting. At the thought of the beautiful Elf Molly’s cock stirred and Molly wanted nothing more than to have that time back.

This morning Tanna’s scouts had reported that Gothmog’s army was north of his position and would be upon them in a few hours. Molly knew he had to flee even with the prepared defenses he couldn’t face both armies. As Molly tried to evacuate his forces Kâlraug had launched an assault. Molly had been forced to deal with that and while fighting it off Kâlraug had moved the rest of his force into a blocking position. Now the only chance was to fight through Kâlraug’s forces before Gothmog hit him from behind.

The river had cut a flat through the hills and that was where Molly’s infantry was currently engaged. Because of the terrain Molly wouldn’t be able to use his Calvary in the flanking strikes he’d have preferred. Instead, he focused on taking the ridge over the battle and using it with his archers to support the infantry. Tanna and Cainir were leading the assault and Molly had to suppress the flash of worry, ‘Tanna is a skilled fighter she’ll be safe,’ he thought. But Molly knew that it was a lie, unless he could get his army through Kâlraug’s none of them were safe. For a moment Molly considered taking his Griffin shape and dropping into the middle of the fight. He was sure that the power of that form would break the Orc line but if he left who would direct the battle? His second in command was Sir Fallaistra, and he’d given her the critical task of leading the Rearguard. If worse came to worse she would have to hold Gothmog until they escaped. If that happened Molly knew that Fallaistra and her entire force were doomed. He’d asked for volunteers for the duty and had to turn warriors away. Then the sounds of horns filled the air and Molly turned using his power to boost his eyesight.

“Damn!”

“My lord?” Alion asked.

“Gothmog’s lead elements are engaging Fallaistra’s force.”

With that Molly looked to the heights and even with his sight he couldn’t penetrate the dense foliage. He could hear the sounds of battle but it was taking too long. Molly sighed and looked over at Alion.

“First-Spear, I won’t lie, we are in a desperate spot.”

The old warrior nodded, “Aye, my lord.” In spite of his words Molly could feel his unshakeable confidence in him.

“I’m going to have to take matters into my own hands.”

“I’ll bring up your guard.”

“No, that won’t be necessary.” Molly said grimly, “I have another task for them and you. I want you to gather the reserve, our remaining cavalry, and my guard. Watch the fight below and when the Orcs break commit all our forces to the breach. We must throw them into chaos and crack open the trap or we are all doomed.”

Alion nodded, “Aye my lord.”

“One more thing, when you sound the charge send word to Fallaistra to start her withdrawal. It’s time to roll the dice, Alion. We either win here or die.”

Alion saluted sharply, “As you command my lord.”

Molly turned toward the infantry and stripped out of the loose robe he’d been wearing. For a moment he could feel his cock, flaccid and heavy between his legs, and wished for an instant that he was using it on Tanna. Then Molly reached for Boreas and felt him respond. Power flooded Molly and his body shifted. The world shrank around him and everything came into sharper focus. Every sense felt supercharged.

Molly threw his head back and allowed all of his rage at being caught to ring out in the high pitched cry of a mighty eagle. Only no eagle could match the hunting cry of a Griffin in strength or clarity. Then Molly was climbing into the air, he didn’t climb to high, instead he covered the distance in seconds from his command post to the front lines and dove. As he did he drew in the air around him, hardening it, manipulating it, and filling it with power. Then he angled toward the front line where several Trolls had gathered in an effort to help the Orcs break through. When he landed it was with a tremendous concussive force and the Orcs in a twenty foot circle were thrown to the ground.

Molly lunged forward covering the distance to the closest Orc in an instant cutting him in half with a single snap of his jaws. Then a roar from one of the Trolls caught Molly’s attention. The creature was huge and was using what looked like a small tree for a club. It brought the club up and then down aiming for Molly’s head. Only Molly was faster than the Troll and jumped to one side. As the club hit the ground Molly lunged forward snapping his wings. Molly buried the talons of his front legs into the Troll’s shoulders and ripped out his throat with a precise slice from his beak.

The next several minutes turned into a blur of red rage as Molly spun and attacked in all directions and then a presence filled his mind. The being was at least twelve feet tall and clothed in shadow and flame. It moved through the army of Orc who scattered before its cloven hooves. One Orc proved too slow and was cut in half with a single blow from the mighty sword it carried.

“Fight me, Sornohen et Maiar! And Die!”

Molly didn’t have to think as Kratos surged forward within him. He felt his Griffin form melt away as he stood up and armor materialized around him. With a shield on his left arm Molly reached out with his right and a glowing trident appeared.

“By the Light and the Song of Ainur you will die by my hand this day!”

The Balrog, Kâlraug leapt forward swinging his great sword over his head and clasping it with both hands. Molly surged forward in the same instant and used his trident to catch the sword between the tines of the trident before Kâlraug had time to start his downward strike. Molly spun to the side twisting the trident and Kâlraug unable to stop his momentum stumbled forward losing his grip on his sword.

Alarukë raced through the trees, her scouts and Cainir and his rangers and archers followed in a loose line. For a moment Alarukë wished that she could shed her Tanna Greenleaf body and show her true dark glory to the Orcs that held the hill. But she knew better. Suddenly black arrows began to sleet into her force between the trees as Orc archers started shooting.

“Onward, for Nevrast and General Sornohen! Charge!”

Alarukë called on some of her power and she practically flew up the hill. As she raced ahead she began shooting. Using all of the grace and skill of a fallen Maiar every arrow seemed to find its mark. Then the first Orc jumped down from a tree where it had been hiding and tried to split her head open with a battle ax. Alarukë dodged to one side and fired an arrow at point blank range into its skull. Then Alarukë slung her bow and drew a pair of single sided short swords. With a cry that echoed through the woods she tore into the Orcs in front of her. Even while she was fighting she kept track of her force. They had followed her lead and Cainir was the next person into the Orc line. He’d slung his bow and was using a small round shield and a broad sword with wicked skill. For a moment Alarukë understood what the Maiar saw in the Quenderin, such was his beauty and skill.

Now more and more of the Elven rangers were moving among the Orcs. For a time it seemed like the Elves couldn’t win. The skill and power of the Quenderin was more than that of a dozen Orcs but they were outnumbered fifteen to one. Then a roar and crashing sound echoed through the trees as a pair of Trolls charged forward.

For a moment Alarukë felt despair well up a Troll was no match for her power, even a pair of Trolls. But it would take her a few minutes to destroy them and the battle hung on a knife edge. She could kill them quicker if she unleashed her true power but then Cainir and the Elves with her would knew her nature.

With a shout Alarukë leapt toward the first Troll.

Sir Fallaistra cursed as the line of Orcs washed over her first defensive position. Every Elf in the line took a dozen Orcs down before he or she fell. Yet it wasn’t enough.

“Loose!”

The single company of archers that General Sornohen had given her fired at once and the deadly rain of Elven arrows instantly took its toll. The respite in the attack allowed her infantry to pull back from the waist high pile of earth they’d hastily erected.

“Again!”

The second volley of arrows was as devastating as the first and Sir Fallaistra saw that the infantry would make it to the second barricade. For an instant she felt nothing but pride in the fighting power of her people. Elves as a rule didn’t like to fight. They enjoyed many other pursuits in their long lives, but today her people were giving a good accounting.

The narrow river flat she’d chosen to make her stand was perfectly suited for defense. To her right the river had cut a deep bed through the land, it was almost a twenty foot fall into the rushing water below. The flood plain that she stood on was quite flat but to her left the steep bluff protected her flank. The only way that Gothmog could come at her was from the front. The problem was that he had enough numbers to wear her down. ‘Come on Sornohen, break that bastard and sound the horn or we are all going to die here!’ she thought.

There was a roar from within the black horde and a squad of Trolls crashed forward. Sir Fallaistra gave the signal and her company of Knights raced to meet them. They leapt the barricade in an amazing display of athleticism and horsemanship and plowed into the Trolls before they’d made it halfway through the no man’s land between the first and second barricade. Sir Fallaistra’s heart nearly broke as she watched her friends and countrymen throw back the Trolls.

“So many dead . . . we can’t take much more of this.”

She’d spoken softly and her face was like stone. As the commander of the rear guard it was her job to buy Sornohen every second she could. Showing fear or sorrow would only weaken the resolve of her soldiers. She watched as the half dozen Knights passed through her line.

“So many dead . . .”

Molly ducked the ax blow and slammed his shield into the Balrog’s chest. He felt the power of all three tattoos blazing in him and knew that he was now glowing with a red and gold aura. The darkness that covered Kâlraug cushioned the blow and protected the Balrog who was now fighting with a pair of matching hand axes. Molly sensed more than saw the swing toward her ankle but rather than step back he moved forward trusting the greave.

It was a move Kâlraug hadn’t expected and Molly managed to jam the strike by catching the ax shaft against his greave. Kâlraug stumbled to the left and Molly lunged forward on a highline attack. Kâlraug brought up his ax to block it and Molly drove a stomp kick into his chest. This time even though he felt the shadows act to absorb the impact it was not enough and he lifted Kâlraug off his feet and threw him back a dozen yards.

For a second Molly had the opportunity to look around. He was now completely surrounded by Orcs. Yet such was the power he and Kâlraug wielded that they had pulled back leaving a wide open space for the duel. Then Molly realized that up and down the line Orcs and Elves had pulled back to watch this fight. He wanted to scream, ‘No damn you, attack! We have to break them.’ But he knew it would do no good, until this fight was over both sides would watch. For a second he wondered how the fight on the hill was going and if Fallaistra had engaged the enemy yet. Then Kâlraug was on his feet and snarling curses in the vile tongue of Angband, rushed him.

Molly threw his trident at the charging Balrog and called up his Gladius. Somehow Kâlraug managed to twist to one side avoiding most of the trident yet one tine managed to leave a fiery trail along his cheek. Molly pressed forward leading with his shield high so he could drive a Gladius strike into the foul beast’s guts. As he moved he suddenly realized that the black arrows that had been falling upon his forces had ceased.

The lightning fast rat-a-tat of a pair of ax strikes against his shield slowed him just enough so that Kâlraug was able to slide backward avoiding Molly’s sword. Yet a fierce grin spread over Molly’s ruggedly handsome face, “Give them hell my love!”

Alarukë wiped blood and sweat from her brow and looked over the hilltop. It was littered with the bodies of the dead. Orc, Troll, and Elf all cut down by each other. She felt a surge of elation at the victory but knew it was hollow. Little more than a third of her force remained.

“Ma’am, the field is ours. What are your orders?”

Alarukë looked out at the battle below and cursed. The line of elven infantry had moved forward but Kâlraug’s forces still held. Then she saw Sornohen and felt a surge of . . . love? . . . Fear? . . . Worry? The emotions were so foreign that Alarukë wasn’t sure what she was feeling. The battle between Sornohen and Kâlraug had escalated to a point where only the immortal eyes of a Maiar or a fallen Maiar could really understand what they were seeing.

“Ma’am, your orders?”

Not wanted to be distracted Alarukë snapped, “Where is Cainir? He is also in command.”

“Ma’am, Cainir has fallen.”

For a second Alarukë failed to understand and then with a sigh looked at the ranger. “Form a firing line there along the ridge two ranks deep. We will concentrate our fire on the enemy center directly in front of our infantry.”

The ranger snapped off a salute and hurried away. For a moment Alarukë considered transforming and leaping from the hill into the battle below. Between her power and Sornohen’s Kâlraug would fall quickly. Then she pulled back. ‘No, if I do that Sornohen will attack me as soon as Kâlraug is dead.’ She thought. Feeling trapped by her own deception and with few options Alarukë drew her bow and moved toward the head of the firing line.

Sir Fallaistra wiped the blood off her sword and stepped back from the fighting. They’d fallen back to the third and last barricade. Over half her force was gone including every Knight. And yet, they held. She felt a savage joy as the Orcs fell back leaving mounds of dead behind them. She lifted her sword to the sky and howled in glee! Up and down the line her soldiers responded throwing their almost exhausted defiance into the teeth of the enemy.

“We may all die here today, but the price will be high!”

One of the soldiers near her laughed, “It is a good day to die Captain.”

Fallaistra took a couple of steps back from the barricade and signaled her Aide. “Bring water.”

“Yes, Captain.”

“Oh, and Artorion, this time when they come, I want you to run and deliver a message to General Sornohen. Tell him we held as long as we could but the enemy will be at his back within the hour.”

It took a moment for her words to sink in and then the young elven boy shook his head. “Ma’am I didn’t volunteer to stand with you only to run at the last minute.”

Fallaistra shook her head, “I’m not saving you Artorion. This is an important message. Beside once we fall the battle is lost. Deliver your message and then find a place that seems like a good place to die and sell your life dearly.”

For a moment Fallaistra thought he’d cry. Instead the youth nodded and offered her a crisp salute. “May we meet again in Manwë’s hall.”

Fallaistra nodded and returned the salute, “Off you go.”

When she turned her attention to the battlefield she saw something different. There was movement through the middle of the horde and then her keen elven eyes spotted him. A giant, clothed in shadow and fire and terror seized her by the throat as she realized that Gothmog had joined the fight.

“By the Light, Gothmog is upon us!”

Fallaistra could hear cries of fear up and down the line. She knew she should do something, say something, but what? They were exhausted, pushed to the brink of what they could endure. They would not survive another attack and now the walking terror, Gothmog, the Captain of Balrogs, the Slayer of Fëanor, Gothmog the Terrible was upon them. In desperation Fallaistra lifted her eyes to the sky to say one finale prayer before her doom.

Circling high above her, she saw something. The world seemed to pause around her as her mind tried to grasp the sight.

“Eagles?!”

They were huge and suddenly they dove! The eagles’ high pitched cries bounced off the bluffs as they attacked. Eagles by the hundred were descending and then Fallaistra’s ears picked up another sound. Horns! She recognized the bold notes of silver horns. Looking up and down her line she saw faces that had been filled with despair only a few seconds ago now look up in wonder.

“Aye, my hearts, your ears do not deceive you! Those are the horns of Ondolindë! King Turukáno has loosed his legions!”

Molly stumbled back, his shield arm hung uselessly. For a brief moment pain had blazed brightly as the ax bit deeply into his shoulder and then he’d twisted free and stumbled back. Kâlraug had been forced to let go of the ax and he lurched to one side as Molly’s Gladius strike to his side had been a powerful counter blow. Most of the shadow and flame had fled. Leaving a warrior dressed in dark armor. Even as Molly looked at him, he realized that this creature was as beautiful, despite the twisting horns and cloven hooves, as it was evil. The shield on Molly’s useless arm vanished with a small effort of will and Molly turned so that his good side was leading and raised the Gladius.

Kâlraug responded by lifting his remaining ax and for a moment they regarded each other and then just as Molly was about to move forward a mithril tipped white arrow appeared in the center of Kâlraug’s chest. The mighty Balrog roared in pain and stumbled back only to have a second matching arrow appear next to the first. Kâlraug’s legs failed and he sank to his knees. With a roar Molly lurched forward and brought his Gladius down in a chopping motion that clove Kâlraug’s head in two. For a second the world seemed to stand still. Then there was a horrified scream and dark power burst from Kâlraug rushing out in all directions like a furious wind and it seemed to Molly that for a moment the world shuddered.

Then it was over and Molly sank to his knees. There was a part of him that knew he should stand up. He was surrounded by enemies. They still needed to break this Warband if they were to escape the trap. Now Molly noticed in a strange detached way more and more arrows falling among the Orcs. There were screams from all around but he couldn’t make sense of them.

“The Eagles! The Eagles!”

Molly heard the cries but didn’t know what it might mean. Then the flash of bright armor caused Molly to blink. Elven warriors were around him. Rushing forward, pushing back the Orcs. ‘We did it.’ Molly thought and slowly climbing to his feet. The Orcs were in a full on panic driven route! They were throwing down their arms and armor to run faster. ‘Could the death of Kâlraug cause such a panic,’ Molly wondered. Then the sound of an eagles cry interrupted Molly’s sluggish thoughts. For a moment the Boreas wanted to change and go greet the lesser beings of the sky, but Molly didn’t have the energy.

Now the Elves around him seemed familiar with their red-gauntlets held bright swords. They surrounded him forming a protective ring, alert for any threat. Their concern made Molly want to laugh, but he was too tired. Then Alion appeared next to him.

“My Lord, we’ve won!”

Molly blinked and it took him a moment to respond, “Yes, we’ve broken Kâlraug’s force. Now we must move our troops up the flat and then over the far ridge if we’re to escape.”

“No, my Lord, there is no need. King Turukáno has sent an army from Ondolindë. They have fallen on Gothmog’s army from behind. His force is routed. Reports are that Gothmog has fled over the river and is running. But his army is destroyed!”

Molly just looked at Alion. “We’ve won?”

“Aye, my Lord. We’ve won!”

Molly could feel his exhaustion slowly give way to hope. “What of Tanna Greenleaf and Cainir? They were supposed to take the high ground.”

“Aye, my Lord, and take it they did, but at considerable cost. Cainir is dead.”

At the moment Molly was too numb to process it. “And Tanna?”

“She lives my lord.”

“Okay, um . . . I think I need to return to the Command Post.”

Alion put an arm around Molly’s waist to provide some support and grunted under the strain. It occurred to Molly that he was still wearing Kratos’ shape. With an effort of will he let go of the power he’d been holding and sank to his knees as his body shifted to the more familiar form that had once belonged to Logan. Now Alion wrapped an arm under Molly’s as the pain from his wounds, which had been held at bay by the power of Kratos, crashed home. The world lurched sideways and darkness closed in.