User blog:Faenor of the Silver Laurel/The Third Tale

What would happen if Glosur Darloc and Faenor Celebrî dueled to the death, with all the power at their disposal pitted against one another? Read on, and find out.

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Faenor stood on the scarred and pitted battlefield, looking at all the dead bodies. For three days this battle between the Elves and Dwarves had been fought, both sides thirsting for vengeance after old words and deeds had been rekindled, the slaying of Thingol and the Dwarves of Nogrod not least among those.

Before the ancient Sinda stood Glosur, King of the Ered Nimrais. They were the only two combatants left in sight, though the clash of arms alerted both that there was still a war on. Faenor's twin swords were both stained with Dwarvish blood, while the spear and blade of the Dwarf-king were covered in the lifeblood of the Eldar.

Neither spoke. Neither needed to. Slowly, deliberately, both began walking forwards. Faster and faster their steps became, until they were running full tilt at one another.

When they did meet, it was a battle to be reckoned. Faenor slid on his knees at the last few seconds, leaning his head back as he passed under Glosur's swinging blade. He came up stabbing behind himself, only to be blocked by a broad sweep of Diety, Glosur's spear.

Faenor and Glosur proceeded to duel as told in the songs of those days, weapons brilliant pinwheels of light as they swung them faster than any normal eye could follow. Back and forth swayed their fight, sweeping, thrusting, stabbing, parrying. The two combatants were told of after the manner of the ancient lays:

''He chanted a song of wizardry, As ever he fought for mastery Swords like light, hands like ice, And heart cold with anger.''

''He spoke a song of eternal glory, As ever he strove for victory Sword of steel, spear of Mithril, And heart hotter than the forge.''

Faenor and Glosur battled long in that desolate place, even unto the setting of the sun. Of the sorrow in that fight no story tells. For the Dwarves do not boast of it, and the Elves do not sing of it, for in that clash of arms was the pitting of friend against friend.

For on the battlefield of the War of Elves and Dwarves each slew the other, Faenor killing Glosur even as he himself died. For they used not the power they had been given, and did not heal themselves as they were wont to do. Both had been caught in the Dooms appointed for them out of days gone by, decreed by Ilúvatar that neither should die save by the hand of the other.

And thus ended the tale of both Glosur Darloc, bane of Ungoliant and mightiest of the Dwarf-lords, and Faenor Celebrî, the Snow Prince and not least among the wise of the Elves.