Disclaimer: Elrond and all related characters belong to JRR Tolkien. No intentional copyright infringement is intended through their use.

A/N: This is from Elrond’s POV in the Last Alliance. As usual, I don’t know what I’m writing about, since I usually write this way (as in, don’t know what I’m writing about). Please forgive me.

Mirrors

Others are merely mirrors of you. You cannot love or hate something about another person unless it reflects something you love or hate about yourself. -Unknown

“Tangado haid!” I shouted, surprising myself that my voice could reach so far. About me, Elven warriors closed ranks, their shields held in a line of defense. Before us came thousands of Orcs, barring their yellow teeth. “Hado i phillin!”

Archers loosened their arrows, and those flew from behind, past my un-helmeted head, so close that I could feel the hiss of air as they passed.

The first few ranks of Orcs fell. Those behind them stepped on the fallen bodies to reach us. I could not hide a grimace when they did that, for those fallen in battle should not be treated thus, but with honor.

Both armies clashed, and I quickly found myself amongst many enemies, snarling and swinging my sword. Blood flowed, both of others and mine.

I chanced my luck to look for Gil-galad, Elendil and Isildur. They fought not far from me, and I was glad to see them safe, for the moment; the Orcs could not hold off their wrath, even with their numbers.

A snarl close by made me turn, and I saw an Orc a few feet away. I growled in return and raised my sword.

I saw myself in the yellow orbs of its eyes. And I could not move. Because I hated it.

Being half-elven and of the descendent of Lúthien Tinúviel gave me sight not many possessed. This, I was told, but I know not if I believe it even now.

For I saw myself in the very depths of the Orc’s eyes. That which I hated, as all others did. As all others would.

I slew this Orc, and found that none came forth to challenge me for the moment.

Why were we fighting? Against the Orcs and the Dark Lords, I knew why. I thought I knew. Did I not?

We fought them for they were evil: for they went against the will of Ilúvatar; for they left much destruction and darkness in their wake.

Right?

Nay. Nay, ’tis not right. The Orcs were Elves once. Firstborn. The Eldar.

We could have been them. I could have been them, if Ilúvatar’s grace had forsaken me then.

I feared them: the Orcs. I feared what I would be, had Morgoth or Sauron taken me. I feared that they were once my kindred.

Mayhap the real reason why this war came about was fear. We feared how, at any time, we could have turned to the darkness as easily as we slay one another now, with no heed for lament.

Mayhap the reason for the Valar’s wars against Morgoth was that they did not understand him, and so were afraid. Mayhap they were afraid that they would fall from grace as their kindred had done.

I heard a shout by Isildur, and saw that Gil-galad had fallen, and Sauron now strode out of the gates of Barad-dûr. I did not see Elendil, but heard the cry of his son.

The Elf-friend had fallen.

I felt myself run forward, slashing at other Orcs in the way. I wore a mask of coldness, I knew, for my face was drawn tight in a snarl, and I could not change it. But I cried in my heart.

Sauron must fall.

I will not pick up any sword again. I will not run from the shadows by slaying others. I will be a healer.

I know not what the Valar will do, nor what the Free People of Middle Earth will do. But mayhap the Gods will one day see that Morgoth is but a mirror of them, and the Orcs just mirrors of us all.

~finis~