Disclaimer and Acknowledgements: As in Chapter 1

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Chapter 36 – Battle Between Good and Evil

Nodding in agreement, the wizard informed Elrond that they would need the box, which held the demon originally, and the elf lord led them into his study where the box was kept. Placing the object with its lid open on the table, Gandalf instructed Elrond to ‘take a nap’. The elf lord felt a little uneasy but he had complete trust in his friend and knew that Gandalf would not allow any harm to come to him. Sitting at his desk, Elrond rested hid head lightly on his arms. Despite his efforts to stay awake, unconsciousness stole him over within a few minutes.

Gandalf stood by the door waiting for the demon’s arrival. Morion would not pass up such a good chance. A host and a victim all in one room. It would surely fall for the trick. A gust of icy cold draft brushed pass the wizard and drifted into the room. With lightning speed, the Istari slammed the door shut and placed a spell on it to prevent the demon from escaping. Then he shouted for Elrond to wake. The elf lord jerked awake at Gandalf’s voice and berated himself for letting his guard down at this crucial moment. He felt an unnatural cold and knew that the demon was within the room.

Speaking some ancient words, Gandalf commanded the demon to show itself. An angry hiss filled the room and a black mist slowly materialized out of thin air. The dark cloud took the form of a small girl and then dissipated only to reform into a figure of a man. Gandalf and Elrond stood back to back while the being circled them, snarling and clawing at the two friends angrily but not quite touching them. It continued to morph from person to person in quick succession flipping through the faces of its victims, contorting the images and twisting them into some grotesque monsters.

"Enough!" Gandalf shouted at the demon as the cloud morphed into a mutilated image of Glorfindel and Elrohir. Lifting his staff into the air, Gandalf began speaking some ancient words and the demon recoiled from the duo and made for the door only to be repelled back by the magic. The infuriated demon charged at Gandalf but the wizard had erected an invisible magical shield that would protect him and Elrond from the creature.

As the evil being came into contact with the shield, it shrieked in agony, its remaining strength leached out by the powerful enchantment surrounding the two friends. The wizard’s compelling words drove Morion towards the mithril box forcing it to retreat back into its prison. It fought hard against the force to no avail. The Istari was too strong and its strength was almost gone. Slowly, it was pushed back into the mithril box.

Throwing aside his staff, Gandalf slammed the lid on the box and pressed his hands on the object holding it down on the table. Elrond quickly stepped over to the opposite side and laid his hands over Gandalf’s. The grey wizard chanted softly as the box vibrated vigorously under their hands. The vibration became more violent as Gandalf’s incantation continued and it lifted off the table gradually, levitating about a foot off the surface. Elrond put all his strength into preventing the box from rising higher but the force within was incredibly strong. The object continued to rise and was about two feet off the table when it started to spin. Gandalf’s incantation increased in intensity and the elf lord soon joined in with his own elvish chant. The battle lasted for twenty minutes and just when they thought they were about to lose, a hellish scream exploded from inside the box and it fell back onto the table with a loud clatter. Thin wisps of black smoke escaped from between the lid and a loud hiss filled the room.

Elrond staggered backwards, almost loosing his balance when the force beneath his hand vanished. Bracing himself against the chair that he had backed into, he wiped the sweat from his brows.

Glorfindel burst into the room as Gandalf retrieved his staff from the floor.

"I heard the scream!" the blond elf lord looked around the room frantically but everything seemed normal to him at first glance. "What happened?!" Glorfindel turned towards Elrond and noted his pallor. Dark circles under his eyes marred his once flawless face and sweat beaded on his face and neck. With a few quick strides, the elf lord approached his friend and rested his hand on the shoulder of the dark haired elf.

"Are you well?"

Elrond nodded silently, not trusting his voice yet. His hand shook slightly and he felt as if he took on an entire army of orcs all by himself. Between the battle and the amount of healing that he had performed for the past two weeks, his body had just about spared all the energy it could offer.

"Everything will be back to normal, my friend." It was Gandalf that spoke.

"But how about Morion?" Glorfindel asked, his gaze fell upon the mithril box that sat immobile in the center of the table.

"That has been taken care of," Elrond put in softly and turned to face his long time friend. "Please spread the news that Imladris can rest well today."

"I will. And you should rest Elrond. You look terrible."

"Thank you," the elf lord laughed. "You don’t look any better yourself." Elrond teased his friend lightly. "Have you looked into the mirror lately?"

"Vanity is a luxury that I do not have, Elrond. You should know that better than anyone." Glorfindel retorted playfully.

"Alright you two," the wizard interrupted the friendly banter. "Glorfindel, kindly inform everyone that the crisis is over and that everyone should try to get some rest. As for you Elrond, you’d better sit down before you fall over." Gandalf ushered the blond elf out of the room as the Lord of Imladris made his way to his bedchambers, determined to check on the children before he allow himself to rest.

Stumbling into the room and towards his bed, Elrond settled down on the floor beside it. The elf lord reached out and brushed a strand of stray hair from Aragorn’s face before he leaned forward to plant a gentle kiss on the forehead of his youngest. "Quel esta nin ion"

//Rest well my son.//

Beside Aragorn, the elven prince laid on his side with his eyes closed, utterly exhausted from the events of the past few weeks. His body was still recovering from the shock that he had been subjected to and he had fallen into a deep healing sleep. To his left, Elladan and Elrohir curled up side-by-side facing each other. Their hands resting on the other’s arm and their half-lidded eyes glazed and unfocused.

"Do not worry Elrond, they will be fine." Gandalf said as he entered the room shortly after the elf lord but before he could finish his sentence, Elrond had already drifted off, his hand still wrapped protectively around Aragorn’s arm. Smiling sadly to himself, the wizard covered his friend with an extra blanket and looked down at the sleeping bunch.

"Sleep well, my friends," Gandalf spoke softly. "I will watch over you tonight."

The gray wizard settled down into a large chair and withdrew his long pipe. Lighting it, he placed the mouthpiece between his lips and drew a deep breath. Sitting in silence, he contemplated the result of this disastrous event. The flesh would heal in time but he knew that the soul would be scarred. There would be a lot of guilt and pain after their physical recovery. The children would need plenty of support from their family and friends but he was confident that the adults would give all they could to help the youngsters recover from this nightmare.

*****

To Be Continued...