AN: This story is one written at a request of one of my reviewers (Melody-chii) with the requirement that it be entirely pre-3rd age. Since this is set in the 1st age, i''m going to post it twice - in the silmarillion section and the Lord of the Rings because i'm not entirely sure how to classify it. Just to warm you about that.

DISCLAIMER: I own nothing more than the plot, OC's, student debts and a sore throat - you are more than welcome to the last two - the other two probably aren't worth much. This is purely written for the enjoyment of my readers, please don't sue.

Wrath's Recompense.

He strolled through the streets of Tirion on this most peculiar mission his lord had given him. Mortals? In Valinor. Would wonders never cease?

Peredhil, Eönwë amended as he saw the pair who looked so lost in the deserted streets.

The dark-haired Maia bowed to them before bidding they followed him to his master. The relatively short journey was completed in silence, the two newcomers taking in every detail of this new land to which both were technically barred.

Eönwë left them once they were announced to do as he willed. Much of that was wondering after the two strangers, Eärendil and Elwing, who had come to petition the Valar themselves. The greatest of the Maia was worried by the ill-tidings he sensed with their arrival.

XXX

Ill-tidings indeed, Eönwë thought as he mustered the Vanyar to war. The compassion within his heart rejoiced in the lifting of the Doom of the Noldor, allowing the exiled race to return to Valinor, but also sunk at the tiding of Morgoth's domination of Arda. That filth would never stop his poison, would he?

His feelings were equally mixed about the war, for war was a terrible thing but in this case utterly necessary. Who knew, maybe this would finally be the end of the curse that existed in the mere presence of the fallen Vala.

It was not just the Vanyar who went to war, though they made the majority of the Host of the Valar, but the few remaining Noldor who remained in the Undying lands, and the Telerin leant their ships at the behest of Elwing, who was apparently their kinswoman through her descent of Thingol, or Elwë as he had been known.

As he finished securing his last piece of armour before leaving, he had a most surprising visitor; that of Irmo, Lord of Dreams and Desires. The young appearing Valar was somewhat of a mystery; even to the Maia he stood before. Before speaking his reason for being there, he gave somewhat mysterious smile, which only served to put Eönwë on edge.

"I come to you this eve, for I have sensed the strangest thing when thinking on this war upon which you embark." Eönwë nodded gracefully, wondering what one such as Irmo could sense about the war which would be of interest to him right now. "I sense a desire so deep within you that you have yet to recognise it that will be fulfilled by one whom you shall find on campaign."

A flicker of annoyance crossed the fair face.

"There is more, but more that I cannot make sense of. The sense is that the fulfiller is somehow unexpected in some way I cannot unravel. Hopefully all will be made clear soon." And with that, the strange Valar was gone, leaving more questions than anything else.

With more important things to dwell on than the strange senses of Irmo, Eönwë put the visitation to the back of his mind to dwell on in what empty hour he might find on his campaign.

XXX

The Elves of the Arda were sorely grateful for the army of the Valar.

Weary they were from the ongoing fight, but they fought with a vigour unexpected. Eönwë was willing to admit that his own force were generally a little green, few of them having ever truly fought for their lives before now. Those of Arda, however, had seen the worst that could befall them and it leant them a strength of arm he had not foreseen.

Soon the three Houses of Men joined their side, swelling the ranks somewhat. This new race changed things for unlike the Elves, they could die without being killed. Men had suffered under Morgoth in their own ways and they were as grim as even Arda's Elves could not be.

Between major battles there were many smaller ones, ones which would not be remembered or recorded and each inch of land had to be checked thoroughly that it was clear before they could move on. It was tiresome but necessary work, for only a fool left an enemy behind them.

XXX

Eönwë leant back in his tent, enjoying a rare moment of rest as seasoned warriors cleared the surrounding area. He sighed in resignation as a messenger rushed in to him with more news that simply could not wait. He swore that when this war was over, he would sleep a week for the peace it afforded him.

"My Lord! We have found a cave system, a seeming fortress of the enemy hidden well within the ground. There is an air of magic around it, and a force we cannot break bars entrance into what we expect to be the most important part of it..." Eönwë held up a hand to stop the flow of words.

"And I am necessary to break the magic. Give me but a moment; go tell those there that I am coming." The messenger shot out the tent and Eönwë took a moment to notice the direction.

So much for rest then.

XXX

Hands and brow against the door, Eönwë sent out his mind to the magic blocking it. Eventually he worked it out and with a bang, the magic collapsed inwards and the door cracked under the force. With that, the Maia stepped back to allow the clearing of the doorway.

It was quickly discovered that inside was empty as Morgoth's soul, to quote one soldier's turn of phrase. Eönwë's face twisted into a small smile at that. Empty indeed, but not like Morgoth's soul. That filth had things in his soul alright, but nothing any person would want to see.

Behind the swarms of his soldiers searching out the caves for any sign of life, Eönwë explored himself. Following the sound of excited voices, he found a large group of his men in a store room, top filled with delicacies ready to eat. In fact, some of his men were about to do that.

"Daro!" They all turned to him. "Have you checked that food for safety yet?" They began to colour, answering his question. "Did it not occur to you that, if you find food of any sort within an enemy stronghold that it might not be hale to eat? No one eats anything without it being checked first. I do not wish my soldiers to die through foolery."

He turned on his heels, irritated that they would not think first. It wasn't like food was in such hard demand, rationed yes, sparse no. One of the perks of the Valar themselves having ordered the campaign was that they had no worry for food at least.

He carried on wandering the strange halls they had found when his ears picked up a strange sound, that of feminine singing he realised as he followed the sound closer to its source. His strides picked up, intent at getting closer to the compelling singing, trying to make out the words, as yet too muffled.

Shortly before he got close enough to make out the words, a worried-looking Noldor ran up to him.

"My Lord, we have found what seems to be a prison, from whence this strange singing comes. It appears as if, when they left this place, that they left at least one lady locked up in a cell. A magically locked one if my senses are true." Eönwë gestured that the Elf should lead the way and followed, frowning.

Prison seemed the right word for the place, it was heavily barred from the outside and it did not take much examination to tell that it could only be opened from the outside. The magic on the door was strong also. It begged the question as to who could be so precious as to keep locked up so strongly, but to leave behind when they fled?

As Eönwë placed his hands and head against the door, for the first time he noted that the words were of no language he'd ever heard before. That song broke off abruptly as the door cracked with the magical force it took to unlock it. Instead of letting others in first though, this time Eönwë gestured they should remain outside and entered himself.

The room was somewhat of a surprise. It was of moderate luxury, not rich exactly, but far from basic. Another indication that the prisoner was of some value, but as he looked around Eönwë noticed that in fact, it was two prisoners kept here.

On the large bed was a tall woman with rich auburn hair, a shade the Maia had never seen before, holding a young boy, both of which looked drawn and terrified. Two pairs of green eyes were fixed on him as he entered and surveyed the room and he sensed immediately that he was the cause, though not the source of the fear.

As the lady pulled the child against her protectively, Eönwë wondered many questions, but realised as the lady greeted him shakily that they would all have to wait for one major problem.

The language she seemed to speak was one like he'd never come across, and that he could not understand.