Chess

Author's Note: Wow, almost two years since I wrote something LOTR related! Honestly, I should actually be studying... but I couldn't resist writing this when the idea popped up. Honestly I haven't read the Silmarillion in a long time, so I HOPE I got all the things right...

Disclaimer: I don't own anything, except my own ideas.

Chess

The rising sun shone above the lands, promising a new start to another age. The Second Age had come and gone, and the Third Age rises amidst the blood of elves and men. The chessboard of Middle Earth was reset as everyone settled into their realms—some crumbling, some sailing and some healing, and with this change of Age came new moves and new destinies for everyone.

In Rivendell, in the Hall of Fire, two elves sat near the fireplace, immersed in a game of chess as each perused over the reports that had been handed to them.

"Too careless, Erestor," said Glorfindel, as a knight took the pawn, placing it in a strategic position to trap the queen.

"A pawn is but a pawn," came Erestor's voice, "to be sacrificed for greater needs."

The invasion of Eriador. Many lives were lost when Eriador was invaded, all with the aim of protecting the Three from Sauron.

The destruction of Eregion. Blood was spilled as what small army they had left fought to protect their leaders Elrond and Celeborn, which unexpectedly led to the establishment of Imladris.

The War of the Last Alliance. Numerous elves and men had fallen; the blood spilled could have easily formed a river, but at least the One was now lost.

It is said that the memories of elves do not fade, but as time passes and as each battle seemed to merge with the other, the names and histories of what must be thousands or millions of casualties were lost with time. And all these lives, each now no more than just a name in the books, had sacrificed to ensure the fulfillment of great plans that now kept evil at bay.

Since the dawn of time, pawns have always been sacrificed for greater needs.

A trap had been laid, clear as day now that the last piece of the trap was moved into position; the pawn had merely been a bait to lure the knight in.

Glorfindel's fingers tapped on the wooden table as he surveyed the game before him.

It had been two years since they were driven back by Sauron's forces and established a small refuge in the valley. Two years as they planned out the outpost, and planned for a suitable counter attack.

Two years that they had spent debating whether the siege can be broken to aid Lindon.

"We need to wait, Glorfindel," Erestor had said during one of their nightly discussions.

"Wait? Lindon is in trouble. What good are we if we cannot help them?"

"If we were to act now, Sauron would not only be able to strike Imladris, but would also be able to track where we are. We cannot risk losing this place!"

"But what if Lindon falls?"

Erestor looked in the direction of Numenor, his eyes a mixture of hope and sorrow, but his voice was steadfast.

"Then we will truly be the Last Homely House in Middle Earth."

Those were desperate times, and Erestor's strategies had always been in protecting their small army of resistance and ensuring that a ray of hope remained as Sauron's army swept a great part of Middle Earth.

Glorfindel looked at the elf before him and moved his pawn into position.

Erestor smiled and nodded. "Strategic move, but not without risk."

Risk taken based on the character of his opponent.

Erestor sighed; his trap might not work now.

Glorfindel has always known his opponents well.

"Every piece has its role and importance in the game," Glorfindel said, as he waited for Erestor's move, "just as a small, insignificant pawn can do great deeds in a game of chess."

Erestor's smile vanished as he looked intently at the Captain before him.

A young ellon, merely one in thousands, joining the army and learning to fight; a young soldier, saved from the brink of death by his Lord, who earned his allegiance that very day when he not only tended to him personally, but also made a switch for him to join the Council, where he finally felt at home; and finally a young diplomat, successfully negotiating his first treaty, a performance which transformed him from a face in the crowd to one the crowd faces.

Everyone has a role in this game, however insignificant they may seem at first.

"Perhaps," he said, "but a pawn is never as important as its king."

The troop was reordered; queen was taken back, followed by the displacement of a rook as Glorfindel's pieces advanced into the opponent's territory. Erestor then moved the bishop into a retreat, exposing a pawn.

The pawn was taken. "Surely this is not a trap, Chief Advisor?"

"Well it would hardly be fair if I told you, my Lord," Erestor answered with a gleam in the eye as he moved his piece.

"Check in six."

Glorfindel drew in a sharp breath. The chessboard before him was a mess; the strongest of Erestor's forces seemed to be dispelled, leaving a bloody trail all over the board, yet check in six?

The Seven and Nine were taken; yet the Three held their place against the growing darkness.

Sauron was at the pinnacle of his power, yet the elves had resisted, and the combined efforts of the elves and the Numenoreans toppled him from his seat of power.

Numenor fell, but when many lost hope, Arnor and Gondor was established.

If anything, history has shown that no matter how dire the situation seemed, there is always hope; and with hope came the strength to fight.

Glorfindel took the knight that seemed to be threatening his queen.

As if expecting Glorfindel to do just that, Erestor moved the bishop that had previously retreated into position.

"Check in four."

It was a ruthless move, one that would decimate most of Erestor's own forces but would protect the king at any cost from Glorfindel's pieces. Glorfindel saw the tactic now, but he knew it was too late to change the game much. The only thing he could do was to minimise his losses.

Glorfindel took the rook; more pieces were moved.

Over time, the landscape of the chessboard had changed according to its players, and just as the territories of Middle Earth had changed over the last few centuries, the territories of Middle Earth today will one day be transformed as well.

After all, isn't it true that the fate of Middle Earth lies in its people, all of whom are players in this game?

At long last, Erestor moved his bishop into its final position.

"Checkmate."

Glorfindel looked at him and smiled, moving his knight into a position that would have taken the queen, one of the very few, final pieces on Erestor's side still standing on the chess board. Erestor could have sworn he saw a brief flash of blue and silver upon the knight at that moment, but it could just be an illusion for all he knew.

"Ah," said Glorfindel, "but is the game truly over when the king falls?"

-End-

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