Chapter 11: 11 – Battle of Poems

The key to victory did not lie in reacting, it lay in taking control. He decided to take control and not react. Reacting meant saying either yes or no to the challenge, but controlling was different.

Elion took a deep breath as an idea came to him, it was foolish yet he felt confident it would work.

"Maglor, Ye who is known among the Noldor of your voice and of your poems, it shall not be fair and kindly thought by those in the days ahead if I who wield fire in battle against one who does not."

Maglor remained silent, he continued, "Let's battle with poems, let the words be said and judged by all here. If I shall lose, I shall acknowledge the sons of Feanor as proud, noble, and good. And if I shall win, you shall set aside the feud between Fingolfin and Feanor, and there shall be no more conflict among the Noldor."

Elion finished and waited for an answer, he was doing something very reckless but it was far better than fighting with Maglor. Not to mention he wasn't confident since he had not trained his power and skill with a sword, he lacked experience against an elf, especially of Maglor's level of skill.

He reasoned that by taking the initiative by changing the field of the battle to poems, something Maglor was best at, he would seem magnanimous and at the same time, decide the rules in such a way that if he lost, he would not be humiliated. And if he were to win, which was extremely unlikely, he could solve a big problem of the Noldor from the get-go. There was also a good image he created by stating that condition for winning, which showed he only cared about the good of Noldor, and this way he appeared selfless.

He could have asked for something far better in case he won, but he reasoned that without defeating Morgoth nothing really mattered, the world would end. That was the priority for survival and for any step he wanted to take, he had to keep that in mind...

If Maglor accepted, he would not only solve the current hostility he had created to get help for Nilendil but there was also a chance he could prevent future problems by winning.

Even if he lost, no one would find it strange since Maglor was renowned among the elves in this field. They would even praise him for his courage in choosing to compete in something his opponent seemed better at.

Not all battles had to be physical combat. Elion had already schemed this before they had arrived, he knew that the sons of Feanor would surely fight with him if he talked rashly and he needed to do that and put their pride on the line to ensure their help. He had just worried about how to deal with the fight and this chance showed itself. It was a win-win.

Deep within, he also wanted to see for himself the poem Maglor would come up with. Back on Earth, he had always been curious about Noldalante and its poems that were never written but just mentioned.

Maglor's black hair moved with the wind as he smiled, unknown thoughts swirled in his eyes, "I see... Then it shall be the battle of poems. Lairë Ohta!"

Elion sighed in relief, meanwhile, Finrod by his side smiled as he patted him on his back, "Well done. With your Vanyar ancestry, you might just win. But it's okay if you lose as well."

The Vanyar elves were indeed the greatest of all elves in Poems and songs, but Maglor was the best among the Noldor, how could Elion compare? He thought the same as he simply looked at Finrod strangely, "Are you sure you are not ill?"

Finrod seemed offended. "Hey!"

Soon enough, a stage was set beside Lake Mithrim, in between the trees on an open field. There all the elves gathered, and all sons of Feanor except Maedhros who was captured by Morgoth came forth.

Maglor and Elion faced each other as they sat down, a beautiful harp lay beside the 2nd eldest son of Feanor.

"Then I shall begin." Maglor carefreely said as he looked at Elion calmly.

Elion nodded, a little nervous at heart.

Maglor took the harp and his fingers gently reached for the strings.

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Silence reigned over the world as if all things listened, Maglor's face grew sad as he played a tune of grief.

Sorrow spread and many tears began falling. The tune brought out the memories of loss in all things, the trees gently shook, the lake rippled, and the wind gently whistled in sadness.

Those who had lost mothers remembered the kindness of their mothers, the gentle touch on their heads as children. Those who had lost fathers remembered encouraging words that had helped them move on during the hard times, the back of the person who shouldered all so they did not have to worry. Those who had lost siblings, wives, and children, remembered the loneliness of being left behind, of the days before. Of happy smiles.

"The days go by, the leaves fall and trees dry;

The stars dim and the wind is silent;

The mountains mourn and dark is the sky;

For a world without you is silent;

Rest father, for one day all will fly;

To the land that is forever silent;

The heart pains and the children cry;

For our father is now silent;

The end of our brother nigh;

In grief, the Noldor is silent;

The lonely towers of Tirion await high, for it is Feanor's last goodbye."

Loss invaded the heart of all elves, for Maglor's music was magical and had darkened the world, his voice filled with grief for his father, and his words of Quenya influenced the world and all became silent in his grief.

Elion stood up and walked away, tears in his eyes.

'I miss... my father.' His thoughts drifted back to earth and his family there and the fact that he could never again reunite with them for he was in a different universe.

Finrod followed him silently.

He aimlessly walked by the shore of the lake for hours, he breathed the fresh air and watched the green and lovely world around him.

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