Sons of Destiny [CURRENTLY EDITING AND REWRITING]

Counterattack

Elwing dug her fingers into the crack on the door and heaved. Despite her drained energy, she opened it. Without instructions, the twins scurried in. Immediately, Elros and Elrond dashed into bed, huddling like soaked pigeons. Tears washed down their cheeks as they innocently begged to the Valar that this whole ordeal was no more than a sick nightmare. Elwing dragged a chair to the door, hoping the extra weight would hold back any intruders. She shuffled across the room to where the boys lay.

"They've seen too much already," she whispered to herself.

Elrond peeked out from under the covers, his grey eyes shining with fear. "What's going on?" he begged for what seemed the hundredth time. Elros's shoulders shook with sobs as he tried in vain to sleep again.

"It's alright, little sandpipers; Nana's still here." Elwing tried to soothe her sons, but her voice was harrowed and raspy.

Tramping boots thundered downstairs. A string of swearing and angry orders in Quenya told Elwing that her enemies had found the treasure room—but not the Nauglamir Necklace and the Silmaril it held.

She smiled bitterly, and a fraction of her mind flooded with dark glee. They'll never find it, her thoughts sneered.

Suddenly, the footsteps resounded again on the stairs. Elwing's mind returned to logic. They were going to find her no matter where she hid, but they would never lay hands on the Jewel or her sons. Wait—her sons or the Jewel. It had to be that order—her boys were not divinely banned out of the Fëanorians' hands like the Silmaril was.

She tore the covers off the shivering children. "Ros, Ron?" she hissed. They looked up and nodded their puffy faces, waiting for instruction.
Elwing put a finger to her lips and waved the boys over to a distant corner of the nursery—the one across from the single, wide, window. There lay a huge oaken chest. Hauling the lid open, Elwing made her sons crawl in. Fortunately, the chest held the twins' clothes, muffling sounds and cushioning their forms.

"ELWING HOUSE DIOR, OPEN IN THE NAME OF THE SEVEN SONS!" someone massive pounded on the door.

"Stay," Elwing squeaked. The boys glared at her flustered. "Please!" she hissed again when the hammering knocks resumed. The twins sat down in the deep chest. Elwing kept a sliver of the lid up with a tiny wooden plank so they could still breathe. "Love you," she smiled.

Elros and Elrond looked on, petrified by anticipation.

Elwing tensely rose to full height, holding her breath.

Despite the chair in front of it, the room's door crashed down with one final bang. As the ornate nursery door lay splintered on the stone slabs, a tall, powerful elf stormed in. His flaming red hair seemed to blaze with his temper. In his meaty left hand he carried a sleek gilt saber; his right arm-guard extended to a vicious point where his hand would have been.

Mad fear suddenly gripped the Lady of Sirion's heart.
Elwing fled to the open window like a senseless rabbit. She poised herself for a fight by the marble windowsill, though she knew well she could never withstand this warrior.
With green eyes sparking, the red-haired warrior inched closer to Elwing. She tensed and gripped the radiant jewel adamantly. He put out a tentative hand, but the beautiful raven-haired half-elf took it the wrong way. She leapt onto the wide sill in a single bound.

"Give it to me," the warrior asked tensely, a hint of exhaustion in his harsh voice.

"It has been cursed out of your grasp, and shall remain so," Elwing said as calmly as if she were discussing the  weather.

"Please, just hand me the Silmaril. No one else will be hurt."

Suddenly, with a haughty tone resembling the warrior's father more than her own sweet charm, Elwing sneered, "No one else, indeed, bloodthirsty demon!"

The warrior welded his eyes onto hers. Her shining grey orbs seemed enhanced by the light of the holy Jewel. The fleeting sea winds whipped about her deep blue robes, and she seemed like a water spirit alighted on the window.

With a final, twisted smile, Elwing let go of the Jewel at the heart of the necklace.

Then she jumped.

Hold on, guys! I just want to keep the updates smooth! Hope you like my little thingy. Next chapter will bring much more psychological angst—my favorite.