Then the thrown glass shatters against the far wall, rather than the door.

"...Aredhel."

"Celebrimbor," she says, stepping in.

"To what do I owe this visit, cousin? I am not, as you see, in a welcoming mood."

"Heard you acquired yourself a shitty ex. I brought wine and a sword."

Huff.

"Two possible solutions, hm."

"One. Wine is a great way to start a revenge road trip, so long as you're back to sober when you catch up to the bastard."

"You do have experience in this regard, I will grant."

"I didn't get the full story, but it sounds like she deserves some stabbing. Even if you're not quite in the mood to kill her."

"The only vacillation is how much stabbing she deserves before I do kill her."

"We can see how the mood strikes you. But I killed Eol quickly, and regretted that later; you can only kill her once."

"Sage advice, I'm sure."

"I'm known for my wisdom."

"More for your archery, in fact."

"Another thing that'll be useful in a quest like this."

"The prospect sounds more enticing by the moment."

"You still have reservations?"

"I've never been much of one for quests."

"You'll be with an expert. I've already packed provisions and prepared maps."

"You are not giving me a choice, are you?"

"...I'm not ditching you here to mope."

Siiiigh.

"I suppose it's not as though I've any projects left going."

"That's the spirit!" She can help Celebrimbor pack. 

Not that she has much. A laboratory is hardly portable.

There's clothes for the road to consider... But Celebrimbor's current wardrobe is unlikely to be suitable. Aredhel knows her size, though, and had brought some - plain, hardly up to the standards of a Lord of the Elves, but durable and reliable. Good hunting clothing. 

That will be a change.

Perhaps a good one. A break, if nothing else. 

A break.

It has been... some time since she's taken such a thing.

Then now's the time. 

So be it.

Aredhel is, of course, ready to leave as soon as Celebrimbor is - though she doesn't know if clues to their target's heading may have been left here. 

She's already consigned the treacherous bitch's effects to the fire.

Fair.

They'll use their senses and their wits, then - and Celebrimbor's own knowledge. 

Such as it is.

Aredhel could use an overview, nonetheless. She's received only... Fragmented information. 

Does she want an enumeration of mistakes ordered alphabetically or chronologically?

"...I can listen, if that's something you want or need to talk about, but - for hunting the bitch down, all I need is the practical things."

"Practically speaking, then. She talked often of her time in the east and of the peoples of the south."

"Then that's where we'll start."

Celebrimbor can give some more specific places and names.

She'll compare them to her maps, making a few small markings as notes.

The first stages of the quest, one assumes.

Most important parts of hunting are knowing your target and knowing your land. 

Indeed.

They're ready to head out soon enough, though - up to Celebrimbor if she wants to leave immediately or wait for dawn. 

She sees no need to linger, now that a course has been decided.

Off with them, then - it's fastest to cut through Khazad-dum, then follow the river from Mirrormere to Nen Hithoel and perhaps beyond. It'd be perhaps three weeks from Ost-in-Edhil to Nen Hithoel - whereas if they take the southern roads, they're far less likely to run into certain relatives in Lothlorien, but they'd easily be two months or more on the road to reach the same region. 

Celebrimbor has little desire to weather the scolding of Lothlorien.

They can take the long way, if Celebrimbor prefers. 

It's not as though she will have anyone of import waiting on her return.

Downstream to the ford at Tharbad, then; the road south from that town is large and in good repair at least.

The first steps of a journey longer than she's taken since the founding of Ost-in-Edhil.

It's going to get longer yet; the known world past the Misty Mountains is enormous, and the parts unknown to their people are, as far as Aredhel can tell, larger yet. 

How... intriguing.

"I've been exploring, trying to map it, but... That's not something I'm well suited to."

"Perhaps after we deal with Sauron," because Aredhel's confirmed the identity of her cousin's ex by now, "You can go learn what is to be known of those lands."

"I assume by such point I will have picked up the requisite skills."

"I'll be disappointed if you haven't."

"Strong motivation, to not disappoint my favorite cousin."

"I'm your favorite?"

"At least of the ones I have left."

"I'll take it."

Smirk.

That gets an actual laugh out of her (or at least an energetic snort, or something in between).

"What is it you find so amusing?"

"Maybe just life."

"Oh really?"

Hum.

"Better to laugh than sob, I suppose."

"I've never been one for tears."

"No, that's never been your story."

"I've learned to laugh only recently, in truth. Though I've always known how to bare my teeth."

"A capacity not to be overlooked in utility."

"It helps, most of the time."

"Would that I had employed it sooner myself."

"It isn't too late to start."

"No, I suppose not. Perhaps you can educate me in the trick of that as well."

"Baring your teeth one moment, laughing the next?"

"And the effective presentation in both forms."

"I'll work with you on it."

"My thanks, cousin."

"It'll be my pleasure, I'm sure."

"For as long as you like."

"Might be a while."

"I am at your disposal."

"Then we'll see how the years turn."

"We shall."

And down the road?

Down the road - the river passes swiftly under them, and Celebrimbor can acquire good horses easily enough with her status and coin. Aredhel uses that same coin to purchase a few more things for the road; Tharbad is going to be one of the largest towns they'll see for a while yet. The lands to the south and then east of the Misty Mountains are lightly inhabited, by a mixture of suspicious homesteaders and more suspicious tribes. They know Aredhel, though, or she at least knows them and their many fractured tongues, so threats in the early journey are minor, mostly from small bands of attempted robbers.

Celebrimbor's not inclined to let any of those try twice.

Aredhel will generally give them just enough time to make their intentions clear before putting her arrows in their throats. 

Very nice.

She's a very good archer in general. 

Swift and decisive.

An important trait when hunting. 

And in other endeavors, Celebrimbor has found.

Aredhel does succeed at most things she tries, lately.

A noble trait.

One that's sadly uncommon. 

Alas, though that makes it all the more precious where found.

Celebrimbor has many of those same traits, she's noticing. 

Perhaps it runs in the family.

She would not accuse most of their relatives of being successful. Perhaps Celebrimbor and Aredhel are merely unique. 

That does sound more likely, come to think...

She smiles. 

And - onwards with their day? (They have a lot of ground to cover.)

Ever onwards.

Their journey that day is long, but the road's easy and uncrowded and contains no one stupid enough to accost two armed elves, so they make good time and aren't bothered. They're able to set up a nice camp, too, one that's sheltered from the wind and secluded from the road without being too inconvenient. There's a small and clear stream in walking distance that they can use to wash their things, even. 

Practically ideal.

A lucky find. 

And with it so ideal, that makes it a good time to ask as they're setting up camp - "Want to hook up?"

"-Hm?"

Shrug. "You're attractive. I've seen how you look at me. But I'm not one for - all that mushy stuff."

"Ah. Yes, I suppose I would like to hook up. Mush does not seem appealing to me at the moment either."

"Here's a good place to start."

"Is that why you picked this campsite?"

"Why I picked today." Aredhel also isn't the kind to let anything other than 'this is a good campsite' decide her camping locations. And, with a quick smile: "Instead of a spot with wide open sight lines on a rainy night."

"Fair enough."

Doesn't take much more work to get the essentials set up...

Leaves plenty of time and effort for... relaxation.

A bit of light exercise, even. 

Celebrimbor finds it rather invigorating.

Gets the kinks out. 

Quite.

Very relaxing.

Celebrimbor's mood for the next few days is notably improved.

And Aredhel can find them a suitable campsite most days. 

A useful talent.

Aredhel's a useful kind of person. 

Good thing she's on Celebrimbor's side.

She likes being appreciated. 

Who doesn't?

Aredhel doesn't like praise from most people. It's usually vapid.

Most people are idiots, true.

Not Celebrimbor, though. 

Not when she can help it.

Which has seemed often, to Aredhel.

She tries.

Good. 

It must be.

She'll need to put that intelligence to use soon enough - the road only goes down to the pass between the tail of the Misty Mountains and the crown of the White Mountains. Beyond that the land is rolling plains without a path in site - and with exceptionally few settlements, almost all of Men. Hunting gets scarcer, wild animals smaller, and there's far worse forage available. Aredhel will teach Celebrimbor all she can of pathfinding, of snare setting, of locating water... And of the languages and trade norms of the scattered tiny homesteads and of the shepherds that control much of the grassland. The shepherds especially are inclined to be aggressive with strangers. 

What a change from city life. She's not sure she entirely approves.

Aredhel prefers it. 

To each their own, of course. But Celebrimbor appreciates the freedom to specialize that more concentrated population brings.

Maybe they can stick to occasionally visiting each other once this is over. 

That might well be for the best.

...Aredhel hasn't much had people to go visit, before. At least not since the First Age. 

Change does come, eventually.

Even to elves. 

So it seems.

And they're about to bring a lot more change. 

The family is noted for that, if nothing else.

One of the only family traditions she can really get behind. 

Perhaps they should create new ones. As some of the last left on the continent in a position to do so.

Sounds like a good plan. 

An annual hunting trip, perhaps.

A tradition she can get behind. Though an annual hunting trip for shitty exes sounds like it'd get to be a bit much.

Not least for what implies about the state of Celebrimbor's future prospects.

No more shitty exes sounds preferable. 

Perhaps bears, then. Or unruly shepherds.

They'll figure something out. Something fun and satisfying in and of itself might be a good goal...

Might be they'll find something while on this quest. A breadcrumb trail to the future.

They'll have to keep an eye open for opportunities. 

Stay alert, as ever.

Something Aredhel is good at. 

She is.

Slight preen.

Ah, a hit.

She'll have to keep working for more, though. 

Half the pleasure is the chase, Celebrimbor has always found.

A proper hunter's attitude. 

She learns quickly.

One of the things Aredhel likes about her. 

Mmm, yes.

Celebrimbor seems to like compliments...

A vice she will admit to freely.

Does she want more? 

If that would not be too deep a descent into mush.

She'll think on it. 

Fair enough.

For now - they can work on another lesson in wild craft.

Celebrimbor will be an attentive student.

Good. 

Doesn't seem like their nominal quest will be providing many distractions for now.

They're pushing hard during the day, and fishing for rumors when they encounter people - but cross country hunts like this are pretty often boring at this stage. 

Alas.

They'll have to make their own entertainment. 

Somehow.

She's pretty sure they can figure it out. 

The scenery is pleasant, at least.

Aredhel does like the great outdoors.

Yes, that too.

Flatterer.

She has a jeweler's eye for quality, you know.

Aredhel's coming to appreciate that. 

As well she should. Celebrimbor took pains to develop it.

She did a good job. 

Quality is worth the effort.

It shows. 

It does indeed.

With their distractions settled on, the trip goes a little faster. The great plains turn into woods again as they approach the river that cuts between the major mountain ranges out here - reaching the area Celebrimbor has heard Annatar speak of would involve traveling down that river, and either taking an extremely long hike over land or finding a boat to take them to the ports of Near Harad.

But... They start hearing rumors as they approach the pass through the mountains, of a new darkness in the east. An ill wind blows, some say. 

Do they say from which direction in any more detail?

They're able to get some teenagers - who look wan and shaken and who jump at shadows - who apparently went into the mountains that rise sharply to the east - the range is large and doesn't look entirely natural, with the tell-tale marks of a range created during the wars between the Valar and Melkor. The teenagers say they saw monsters, ones that didn't used to be there. Strange, dark monsters like a nightmare given flesh. 

...That does sound like her work.

...Yeah. It's familiar. 

It's the best lead they've found so far.

Off towards the mountains, then? (Which the locals call the Black Mountains, contrasting the White Mountains to the west.)

They shall see what terrors await.

The terrors start with thin, unreal air. The sun looks distant, the sky washed out and grey. A fell mist clings to the slopes, and as they ascend they notice the many small streams are either heavy with soot or clear but bitter-tasting. Plants are withering, drying out despite the damp fog, and the leaves of trees deeper in the pass they're directed towards are white as bone. 

They don't see any monsters, not yet. But neither do they see nor hear birds - except some ravens who follow them a short distance and begin to caw harshly. 

"The land is as blighted as her spirit."

" - I'm not fully fluent in their tongue, but those ravens are calling warnings. We likely won't find any food or potable water soon..."

"Do you think we should turn back to restock?"

"We have some supplies, but - it's up to you. I don't know how long we'll be searching."

"I'm of a mind to press on. See how far we get."

She nods. "We can go a while without eating or drinking if we need to, anyways."

"Though I'd rather it not come to that."

"We can move quickly to scout."

"Then let us begin."

Onwards then - though they'll have to sacrifice the potential for stealth if they want speed...

So be it.

They're able to make good time. The ravens abandon them quickly, apparently giving them up as a lost cause. The lack of vegetation makes it easier to move quickly, and the ground is hard, making for sure footing. Daylight, it seems, is still relatively safe. 

Which means they crest a rise and are looking out on a dark, forbiding plain before long. The sky is thick with smoke, pouring from an enormous volcano barely visible on the horizon. There's a single artificial structure on the entire plain as far as either elf can tell - a black tower that soars above the plains, a fire to match the volcano at its crown. 

"That will be her lair," Celebrimbor says. "And she'll have harnessed the volcano for power, like as not."

"Where do you think we should look first?"

"Neither will be easy to get into. The volcano, perhaps, if she's made it her workshop."

"We might be able to cut her off from it if she isn't present, too."

"Smash whatever she was working on."

"Take what she values from her first thing."

"Exactly."

"I like it."

"I thought you might."

She laughs. "What are we waiting for, then?"

"Nothing at all."

Onward.

Onward!

...Mordor is significantly worse in terms of being hot and dry as fuck, with no clean water nor growing plants, than the pass in was.

One wonders as to the purpose of this desolation.

...It'd complicate getting an army in.

...Point.

She probably expects one. 

She has enough reason to. If Aredhel hadn't shown up, Celebrimbor might even have ended up leading it.

"I think you definitely would have."

"Not so swiftly as this journey."

"Which is why I dragged you out of your sulk."

"Thank you for that."

"No problem."

Well. The journey's not yet over.

They'll just need to push through. 

So they will.

Mordor doesn't need armies. Doesn't need a sword lifted against them. The dry land, the poisoned waters, the heat of the air, the grief and hatred and rage that falls instead of rain, the clouds dark and heavy...

And the volcano ever before them. An eruption that doesn't falter as they approach - that grows even, lava spilling from massive vents that tear rips in the landscape, dangerous fumes whistling through cracks, roiling earthquakes - the shocks growing stronger and closer together as they walk - the earth swelling below their feet like an overripe fruit as they climb - 

The power thrumming beneath them. A flame that renders all other flames as mere candles.

A match to the bitch's blackened heart in truth, this land. It fits her well, and Celebrimbor is coming to hate this place as much as her.

"The culmination of a great work approaches. We must hurry."

"Yeah I've noticed." She picks up the pace a bit. "I don't like that we haven't been intercepted..."

"Either she does not consider us a credible threat, or whatever she's about to finish will kill us."

"Or it's big enough to continuously take up all her attention and power."

"Functionally the same as the latter."

"And could always be all three." She hits a less hazardous stretch of ground and breaks into an easy run. 

One thing this trip has undeniably been good for is Celebrimbor's athleticness. She keeps pace.

Aredhel wouldn't have allowed anything else. 

There's a threshold near the crater at the top. An opening in the side, one of the few which does not belch smoke nor flame - 

They make it past the threshold a scant hair before the world outside it erupts in blinding light and power and flame - 

But the hall it seems is shielded, and while the air is so thick with power they can hardly breathe, and while the entire place shakes like a ship dashed upon stormy rocks - it holds, at least in terms of structural integrity and not being actively on fire or full of lava. 

This might be... worse than anticipated.

"Since fucking when was Sauron this strong???" 

"Never, that I saw. Unless she concealed more of the rings' potential than I thought."

"That would violate everything we learned about the Ainur, and even about the nature of the world..."

"What do you think the goal of all our tinkering was, if not the violation of the natural order?"

"Well, she's putting it to good use now."

"Then let's go cut off her hands."

Further in - Aredhel will keep her bow strung and knocked, her long dagger in easy reach at her waist, a hum in the back of her throat. 

Her previous sentence notwithstanding, Celebrimbor herself is ready to slit a throat.

They don't find Sauron. 

They do find a rift in the air, a mass of fire, a contained explosion in eternal motion. And they do find that sense of power continuing to build, though it's - different. It isn't the choking oppressive smog of the world outside, but a common power, a hum growing around all of them - a Song any can grab and twist to their own ends if they dare raise their voice loud enough. 

This is not how Sauron wields her Power; the world outside - its heaviness, its barren pettiness and cruelty, its hoarding of all power for itself, the boot it pressed on the back of any who entered - those were fully typical of the Sauron they fought in the first age. She shares only as a trap, a hollow lie - she doesn't bestow boons on her enemy for their defiance, nor does she walk so plainly and unguarded.

This is not Sauron.

This is worse. 

Yeah. Worse is one word for it.

The fire flares out in a blinding spiral -

- Which resolves into a horrifyingly familiar shape. A woman, perhaps a hair shorter than Celebrimbor; her skin like a flame given flesh; her eyes like lava, now warmer and glowing, now darker and cooling; her hair like the untamed void before the Song began, the limitless potential of all existence; her raiment like the wild laughing earth beneath their feet, like an explosion, like a birth of new worlds.

"Not quite the welcome I expected on my return to this world," Melkor says, and her laugh is the most awful and awesome of everything she is - her very voice is Song, and her laughter echoes with all the wild fury bound in the forges of the earth. "I truly expected trumpets, whether triumphant or challenging. But this is much more my taste."

"What, the empty husk of a traitor's workshop?"

"Is that where this is? But, no. I meant the faces of those welcoming me."

"We are not here for you, Morgoth."

"A pity. Both of you have ever been the sort of person I admire. Whatever are you here for, then?"

"Don't you have a sun to blot out or something? Why would you care?"

"The Sun seems no longer run by a Maia; I have no objection to that. And I care because I am curious about one who can stand before me without flinching."

"What use would flinching be? I came here to kill a Maia."

"Oh? Which one?"

"Sauron." The venom in Celebrimbor's voice condenses a slightly acidic mist out of the lingering power of Melkor's arrival.

"Oh, what has she done now?" Melkor speaks with the approximate tone of someone whose beloved dog has a rather terrible habit of chewing on the furniture. 

"Treachery, perversion of my craft, and personal betrayal."

"Quite serious accusations; it is little wonder then that you wish for revenge."

Huff. "What insight."

"It displeases me that she's still up to her same tricks."

"Then why haven't you cracked a continent on her head about it?"

"Right now, it seems you would prefer the privilege of chastising her."

"I wouldn't mind, as long as it was painful."

"Awww, but it's so much more fun when you can hear them screaming."

"Fun is not the objective."

"Not even as a secondary?"

"A distant one, perhaps."

"Maybe you should bump it up a little."

"Because taking advice from Morgoth has worked out famously well in the past."

"I'm more reliable on some things, like matters of fun and revenge."

"Duly noted."

"Would you like instruction in those matters? To include assistance in capturing her, of course."

"What would that cost me?"

"Let me watch! Mostly for the fun of it, but also to verify she's been appropriately chastised."

"I do in fact intend to kill her. I trust that will not prove a problem."

"I'll be impressed if you can make it stick."

"I'm sure you will."

"Then it won't prove a problem."

"Hm."

"There is nothing more to discuss here, then."

"I do have questions about what has occurred in my absence... But those can wait for more aesthetic surroundings."

"Then let's go."

She'll spruce up the landscape a little bit first, how about? Make it slightly less actively deadly to the Incarnate.

How thoughtful.

It'd be a pity if Celebrimbor couldn't even leave. 

Slightly more than a pity.

A tragedy, then. 

Though this is still Sauron's workshop. Given time, she could come up with a solution.

"You could potentially surpass me, given enough time."

"I know."

She likes a woman with confidence. 

How enjoyable for her.

It is right now. 

Then she wasn't summoned back for nothing. Apparently.

"I plan to do quite a lot with my reprieve from the Void, actually. Starting with enjoying not being in a featureless void."

"Does your list include making better choices so as to avoid being sent back?"

"Depends on what you would call a 'better' choice."

"One that sets fewer than, say, ninety percent of the powers of the world against you."

"That would be convenient, wouldn't it."

"Especially for so long as I am within the radius of retaliation."

She laughs. "It's unfortunate they object so much to my normal hobbies."

"If they hadn't, you would have found others, I am sure."

"You think I enjoy being objectionable?" she says, like someone whose entire place in the narrative of the world is flipping off God and refusing to do as told. 

"Yes. I do."

"And do you enjoy being normal?"

"What makes you think I am that?"

"You did imply I should find less objectionable hobbies."

"The normal among my kin set sail back to Valinor many years ago."

"So it is simply the wrath of the Powers you wish to avoid."

"The current shape of the continent is aesthetically pleasing."

"Oh dear, did they change the maps again?"

"That you have to ask should be answer enough."

She laughs. 

"Beleriand was sunk, before they retreated."

"Dreadful management - though I'm guessing that wasn't directly because of the war, but because they failed to take into account what the cost kicking me out of the world would have for the landscape I'd helped create and then invested myself into."

"Perhaps. I did not have a close perspective to the event."

"It would be difficult to confirm at this point."

"And hopefully it remains irrelevant."

"Unfortunately, the Valar might object to me no matter what I do. Though I am not planning to invest myself in the landscape again, at least not to the same extent."

"Just so we're clear," Celebrimbor says, "if you get me blown up and Mandos allows me to return, I will not be open to you continuing to flirt."

"But you are open now?"

Smirk.

"I'm flattered to have as beautiful and intelligent a woman as you receptive to my flirting."

"You wouldn't be the first."

"You surely get numerous admirers."

"All those who are not intimidated by my chilly demeanor."

"Their loss."

"But your gain."

"I'm glad for it then."

Hum.

Now, as to getting out of here...

The fastest route depends on where she's going. 

Celebrimbor wants to examine the tower, to see if Sauron left any clues.

They can move that way fairly quickly if Celebrimbor and her companion are willing to be carried by her power. 

Not on the first date.

Then she'll have to get through by walking. 

Melkor at least makes the path clear and pleasant, with abundant water and food in easy reach. 

This is Suspicious. 

Very. But at least she hasn't lied yet.

And they can't go much longer without food or water. 

So, take what they can get, for now.

Best they can do. 

Quite.

So, to the tower.