Elrond and his company had been surrounded by four Ringwraiths in the middle of a crowd of orcs. Their situation was already bad enough, but the real problem was the man standing in front of them: Sauron. Holding his mace with ease, Sauron looked the elves over. Then he turned his gaze to Elrond and spoke in a mocking voice.
"You shouldn't have left your valley, little rat."
Elrond didn't answer. He kept the stern expression on his face, but his mind was racing. He was trying to take stock of the enemies around him, the ways they might escape, and the condition of the men beside him. He had to find a way to get them out of here alive, but the one standing before them was Sauron.
Glorfindel waited tensely, ready to fight. When he remembered what he'd said not long ago, "Nothing could be worse than a Balrog," he wanted to slap himself. Meanwhile, Sauron paid no mind to the silence of the elves in front of him and went on talking.
"But I must admit, it surprised me that you let what remained of Eregion slip through my fingers. And you are one of the rare, sensible elves who suspected my Annatar guise."
He rested his mace on his shoulder and continued calmly as he did so.
"And then there was that valley... What did you call it?"
He pretended to think for a moment.
"Ah, yes. Rivendell."
Elrond's eyes narrowed at hearing the name of the place his people lived come out of Sauron's mouth. Sauron noticed, but he didn't care.
"Honestly, you defended it quite well. For three years you held my armies back, and you managed to hold out against me until Gil-galad and the Númenórean army arrived."
Then he chuckled.
"You exceeded my expectations, I'll admit that. But now you've fallen into my hands."
While checking his surroundings, Elrond never took his eyes off Sauron. Beside him, Durin was sweating buckets. Trying to hide his nerves, the dwarf leaned toward Elrond and asked in the lowest voice he could manage. It was so quiet that he could barely hear himself.
"Hey, Elrond... This guy..."
Elrond nodded with a stern face and furrowed brows and answered in a voice that was almost inaudible.
"...Sauron."
Durin barely caught the name, and when he understood that it confirmed what he had already guessed, he swallowed.
Gulp!
Then he asked, barely moving his lips.
"We're screwed now, aren't we?"
Elrond didn't answer for a moment. He went over the number of orcs around them, the positions of the Nazgûl, and Sauron's relaxed manner. At last he answered in a voice so low it was almost inaudible.
"Unless a miracle happens... Yes."
Durin's face darkened even more. After gripping the haft of his axe tightly, he turned to Glorfindel, who stood tensely on his other side.
"Hey! You killed a Balrog! You can take this guy down too, right?"
For a moment Glorfindel didn't know what to say. He nearly choked, but he kept his voice under control as he answered.
"What are you babbling about? This man is on a completely different level from the Balrog I killed!"
But when he finished speaking, he noticed something. He blinked blankly a few times, then turned to Durin with a frown.
"Wait a minute! If you knew who I was, why did you act like you didn't at the start?"
At this question, Durin answered with a straight face and a flat voice.
"I don't know what you're talking about. That guy just said you killed a Balrog! How am I supposed to know?"
Glorfindel looked at Durin suspiciously. He didn't seem to quite believe what the dwarf said, but he didn't get the chance to question him further. Sauron was still talking.
"...Now, the lord of Rivendell and the Balrog-slayer will become my banner, just like the great elven craftsman and my dear friend Celebrimbor."
At these words, the expressions of the elves around them changed. Some of them went pale as if the blood had drained from their faces, while Elrond's and Glorfindel's eyes narrowed in anger. What had happened to Celebrimbor, and everything they remembered about him, had come to both their minds. Sauron's words weren't merely a threat. They were also a provocation, reminding them of what their old friend had gone through.
Despite his anger, Elrond tried to keep himself under control. Right now, rather than showing his hatred for Sauron, he needed to find a way to get the people beside him out of here. But Sauron's attention soon shifted to someone else. Turning his gaze to Durin, he asked in a curious voice.
"What is a dwarf doing here?"
Under Sauron's gaze, Durin tensed for a brief moment. Even so, he didn't look away, and he glared back at him, trying not to show his unease. Just then, a trembling voice rose from among the orcs.
"M-m-m-my lord... That is Durin, prince of Khazad-dûm. He probably followed after us..."
Durin, who had almost forgotten Sauron's presence, turned his head toward the orcs the moment he heard the familiar voice. The tension on his face gave way to anger.
"Well, well! You bastard Orgraf!? So you really did take refuge with our ancient enemy! Filthy traitor!"
Orgraf looked at him for a moment, then stayed silent without a word, because his master was speaking. Sauron looked at Durin again. Narrowing his eyes slightly, he spoke as if recalling the dwarf's name to himself.
"Durin... What a nostalgic and hateful name."
Durin looked at him, trying to suppress the fear inside him. Then, as if the one before him were just an ordinary enemy, he spoke with a mocking expression.
"Ah, Your Excellency! Are you still holding a grudge against my father because those little rings of yours didn't work on him and it made you feel incompetent?"
The elves' and the orcs' faces went pale when they heard it. As the place suddenly fell silent, Glorfindel thought to himself, without taking his eyes off Sauron.
'We're dead...'
Sauron fell silent for a brief moment at the open insult aimed at him. Durin picked up speed and kept going. He had no intention of stopping. Orgraf watched in astonishment, silent before his old prince's insane courage.
"Or are you still angry because we cut down your pathetic army in Eregion and wrecked your plans there? Tch, tch... You won't admit you're incompetent and you even drag us into—Hmm! Hmpm!"
Elrond and Glorfindel moved at the same time. Both of them clapped their hands over the dwarf's mouth to keep him from saying any more.
"SHUT YOUR MOUTH, YOU IDIOT!"
Elrond had lost his composure in a way very few people had ever seen in his life. Glorfindel had managed to keep himself under control even when he faced a Balrog, but now he struggled to hide his anger and panic. Durin's courage might have been admirable, but right now the dwarf was making things a little worse with every second.
Unfortunately, it was already too late.
The air around Sauron grew heavier and heavier, and his displeasure spread through the whole cave. While the elves watched him in a cold sweat, the demeanor of the orcs and the Nazgûl changed too. The orcs stared at Durin's audacity in astonishment, yet they were also afraid of their master's wrath. The Nazgûl, for their part, watched the dwarf in front of them closely, waiting to see how Sauron would respond.
Sauron's icy, hate-filled voice echoed through the cave. Every word of it settled on the elves' hearts like a weight.
"From this day on, every one of you who survives will wish to die. You will even come to me and beg me to let you die."
Then he pointed at Durin.
"Especially you! I will deal with you personally. What I do to you will overshadow what I did to Celebrimbor. Filthy dwarf!"
Realizing that the rope had finally snapped, Durin thrashed, trying to break free from Elrond's and Glorfindel's hands. At the same time, he raised his hand and pointed at Sauron. He now figured he would pay a heavy price whatever happened. Since he couldn't escape what was coming to him anyway, he saw no harm in saying what he had to say until the very last moment.
"MHMMH! HMPF!"
The two elves held him tightly, and no matter how hard Durin tried, he couldn't get free of the hands covering his mouth. So he made a crude hand gesture at Sauron, one that meant cursing and insult in the Common Tongue.
The moment Elrond and Glorfindel saw it, they quickly shoved Durin's hand down.
The aura around Sauron grew even darker. And Glorfindel, finally unable to rein in his anger, shouted at the dwarf.
"DON'T DRAG US DOWN WITH YOU, YOU FILTHY DWARF!"
At that moment, the voice of Elrond, who was telling the story, was heard.
"That day, I felt my heart skip a beat for the first time. I saw how a dwarf's fearlessness could push every limit... I couldn't help thinking that we were going to die..."
At the same time, the dwarven company waiting outside was growing more and more uneasy. The heavy air that covered the area around the outpost had begun to catch the soldiers' attention. One of the dwarves looked around and called out to his friend.
"Hey, what is this feeling? Why is there such a gloomy, evil air all around?"
The dwarf beside him frowned. He was feeling the same unease himself, but he couldn't work out the cause.
"I don't know... I've got a bad feeling inside me. And it keeps getting worse."
With Sauron appearing in the underground outpost and no longer hiding his presence, the living things around had begun to feel his influence. The dwarves could feel this evil, oppressive presence too, but they didn't yet know what they were facing. After thinking for a while, one of them asked in a cautious voice.
"...Do you think we should go and back up the Prince?"
The other dwarf didn't answer right away. After turning his eyes toward the side where the outpost was, he spoke hesitantly.
"...I'm not sure. Wait a moment!"
Just then, he felt a faint tremor coming from the ground. He bent his head, pressed his ear to the earth, and began to listen carefully. When his friend wondered what he was doing, he crouched beside him and pressed his ear to the ground as well.
The two listened to the earth for a while without saying a word. Before long, the hoofbeats of an extremely fast horse reached their ears. Along with that, they also heard the growls, the shouting, and the sounds of clashing swords coming from inside the outpost. The vibrations of all this carried to them through the soil.
One of the dwarves quickly straightened up.
"A rider's coming from behind!"
The other lifted his head and confirmed it.
"There's chaos down below! Sounds like the orcs are very numerous. Gather the men! I don't want to leave Prince Durin's backside to the elves!"
The dwarf beside him nodded, quickly lifted his helmet, and blew a sharp whistle. The armored dwarves hiding around the area began to gather the moment they heard the signal. Some of them gripped their axes while others put on their helmets and ran to their comrades' side.
Meanwhile, the sound of the horse's hooves kept getting closer. The dwarf who had whistled couldn't hide his surprise when he realized how quickly the sound was approaching.
"He got here that fast!?"
The dwarf beside him gripped his axe tightly and fixed his eyes on the approaching road.
"So, who is it? Friend or foe?"
Before they had the chance to answer, a fully armored rider swept past them at great speed. On the horse was a man armored from head to toe, and he was driving his mount so fast it was nearly at its limit. The dwarves watched in astonishment as the man passed by them like the wind.
The rider had noticed them too. After going a little farther, he pulled the reins, whipped his horse around, and headed toward the dwarves. The dwarves quickly pulled themselves together and raised their weapons, waiting on guard against a possible attack.
Within a few seconds, the rider stopped in front of them. When the dwarves made out the face visible beneath his helmet, they realized he was an elf. One of them sighed deeply and grumbled.
"Oh, wonderful! Another elf."
But the rider, who held a spear in his hand, had no intention of wasting time. Before even fully dismounting, he looked over the dwarves around him and asked in a hurried but commanding voice.
"Master dwarf, what are you doing here?"
The more experienced soldier among the dwarves understood from the man's manner that they were facing an emergency. They were in enemy territory and their prince was inside the outpost. So instead of wasting time with pointless questions, he explained the situation directly.
"We are the royal guards of Khazad-dûm, accompanying Lord Elrond, the lord of Rivendell. Our prince is currently inside the underground orc outpost with the lord of Rivendell. We sensed something was wrong and were just about to go in."
When the rider heard that the prince of Khazad-dûm was here, his eyes narrowed slightly. But he had no time to show his surprise or ask unnecessary questions. He explained the situation at once.
"This outpost is a trap! The Lord of Darkness himself is inside. I came here to rescue my kinsmen. I'm asking you to support me right now!"
The moment the dwarves heard these words, they froze for a brief moment. Then the eyes of the dwarf who had been speaking widened, and the shock on his face gave way to panic.
"WAIT! THE LORD OF DARKNESS!? IS SAURON HERE!? DAMN IT!"
He quickly turned around and spurred his stunned comrades into action. He didn't doubt what the elf had said. The armor the man wore, the authority he gave off, and his bearing all clearly showed he was no ordinary person. Besides, he didn't think any elf would lie about something like this. And the evil, chilling presence they'd been sensing for a while now finally had an explanation.
The dwarf turned to those around him and shouted with all his strength.
"ALL OF YOU! GET OFF YOUR BACKSIDES! WE MUST MOVE AT ONCE TO SUPPORT THE PRINCE! WE DON'T HAVE A SINGLE MOMENT TO LOSE! I'M TAKING COMMAND FROM THIS MOMENT ON!"
The moment the dwarves heard the words of their comrade who had taken command, they sprang into action. Putting on their axes and shields, they gathered around him. The dwarf who had taken command turned back to the rider and asked hurriedly.
"What should we do?"
The rider quickly gave his orders.
"First we have to find the entrance and get inside! Until my men arrive, secure the entrance and keep the enemy from cutting off our way. I'll go in and bring Elrond and his group out!"
The dwarf nodded.
"All right! Let's go at once! We'll take you to the entrance!"
The elf nodded in gratitude at the support he'd received. Then he took hold of the reins and got ready to set his horse in motion again.
"Come on, let's go fast. We don't have much time! I hope we're not too late..."
The dwarves nodded in reply and rushed forward without delaying even a moment. They had no intention of leaving their prince in danger. Each of them ran as fast as he could, trying to keep up the pace despite the noise of their armor. Every second they lost now could work against their friends inside.
On the other side, deep underground, the encircled elves of Rivendell were trying to stay alive with all their strength. They had formed a defensive formation in which they could protect one another, and with their backs against their comrades, they met the orcs' attacks. They were outnumbered by their enemies, but thanks to the harmony between them, they had managed to halt the orcs' advance for a while.
One of the elves fighting on the front lines turned aside an orc's attack, then quickly raised his sword and cut its head from its body. Then he lifted his shield and blocked a blow coming from his left. Though the force of the blow traveled all the way up his arm, he planted his feet firmly and kept his balance. Without wasting any time, he turned to the attack coming from the other side and met it as well, swinging his sword across.
Seizing the gap between the two orcs, the elf quickly raised his sword and slit both their throats. Then he stepped back, put his back against the comrade behind him, and got ready to attack again.
The spearman elf behind him wasn't idle either. Thrusting his arm forward, he gutted three orcs in succession as they approached him, then raised his shield and blocked the blow of an orc that came at him with a huge axe. Though his shield was pushed back by the weight of the attack, he managed to stay on his feet. Right after that, he bent his knees, crouched, and swept his spear sideways. The spear struck two orcs hard across the legs, and both of them lost their balance and fell to the ground.
Thud!
Thunk!
Without giving his enemies the chance to recover, the spearman elf turned to the orc on his right and drove the tip of his spear into its head. Then he struck the head of the other orc, who was trying to get up on his left, with his shield. From the force of the blow, the orc went down again. The elf turned his spear and pierced its throat, finishing it off.
The orc collapsed without understanding what had happened. The blood pouring from its neck spread over the ground. The elf, without wasting even enough time to catch his breath, stepped back and put his back against his comrade again. Raising his spear, he got ready to meet the new group of orcs approaching him.
When he looked at the battlefield in front of him for a moment, he saw that some of his kinsmen had been killed by the orcs. The expression on his face changed for a brief moment. It pained him to see that some of them would never get up again. But right now he had no time to mourn or lose his focus by thinking about the fallen. Even a moment's hesitation could cost the lives of both himself and the comrade beside him.
So he raised his spear again and went on meeting the approaching enemies.
As the clash grew fiercer, the elves tried to keep their discipline and move together. They covered one another's openings and put down the enemies in front of them as fast as they could. The orcs, for their part, kept pressing the defensive line, using the advantage their numbers gave them.
The floor of the cave was stained with the blood of both orcs and elves. The number of bodies on the ground grew with every passing minute. No matter how well the elves fought, the number of enemies facing them had begun to pose a serious problem.
On the other side, Durin and Elrond stood back to back, fighting the Nazgûl who surrounded them. For the moment, at least, they had a small advantage: among the four Nazgûl in front of them, there were none of the five strongest Ringwraiths. The ring-bearers from the sixth to the ninth were the ones here.
Even so, it wasn't easy for Elrond to fight all of them at the same time. The Nazgûl were dangerous opponents, and they pressed him by complementing each other's movements. While Elrond blocked one's attack and tried to get away from another, he also had to keep track of the third one's movements.
Durin, for his part, was guarding his back surprisingly well. The skill the dwarf showed while fighting was remarkable, considering the situation he was in. Gripping his axe in both hands, he quickly raised it and met an attack coming at him. Then he turned the direction of the attack aside, throwing the Nazgûl off balance, and brought his axe down on his opponent's leg.
The Nazgûl drew back from the force of the blow and groaned in pain.
"Uggg!"
Without delay, Durin turned to the attack coming from the other side. He raised his axe and deflected the blow, then blocked another opponent's move with his shield. After the attack came in, he stepped forward and drove his shoulder into his opponent, pushing him back. This way, he managed to open up a little room to move.
Right after, he pulled back, got behind Elrond, and began guarding his back again. All the while, he watched the Nazgûl around him and shouted.
"HEY, ELROND! HAVE YOU FOUND A WAY OUT YET?"
Elrond gritted his teeth as he crossed swords with one of the Nazgûl in front of him.
"Shut your mouth! Do you realize what kind of trouble you've gotten us into? Why are you provoking Sauron?"
Durin didn't seem offended by these words. Raising his axe to meet a new attack, he answered in a completely flat voice as he tried to push his opponent back.
"WE'RE SCREWED ANYWAY! WHAT DIFFERENCE WOULD IT HAVE MADE?"
After fending off his opponent's attack, Elrond turned toward the Nazgûl on his left. He swung his sword to stop its advance. When he heard what Durin said, his eyebrow twitched involuntarily.
"At the very least, maybe he would have gloated a bit more and waited a while before attacking us!"
Durin sidestepped the attack coming at him and got clear of it. Then he raised his axe, drove the Nazgûl back, and answered in a confident voice.
"No way! I could tell from the look in his eyes. Even if I hadn't said a word, he was definitely going to attack us!"
While deflecting the attack in front of him, Elrond turned his head toward Durin for a moment. Let alone believing what the dwarf said, he couldn't even understand why he was defending it in all seriousness.
"Even we elves haven't figured out how he thinks in hundreds of years! And you figured it out in a single second at your first meeting? If you're going to make up an excuse, at least make it a good one!"
While the pair kept arguing in the middle of the battle, they were also trying to withstand the pressure of the Nazgûl. Durin was good at guarding Elrond's back, but that didn't remove the danger in front of them. While parrying the attacks with his sword, Elrond drove his mind with all his strength, trying to find a way out.
Because if he didn't do something, they would soon grow tired. The situation of the elves fighting the orcs was getting worse and worse too. On top of that, Sauron was still standing before them. And in the middle of all this chaos, the one in the hardest position was Glorfindel, who was trying to fight Sauron directly.
The golden-haired elf was trying to attack Sauron with his sword and dagger. He put the light inside himself into every strike, wielding his weapons as fast and as accurately as he could. But the one in front of him was Sauron, once one of the strongest of the Maiar and now on the side of darkness. Glorfindel's light wasn't having the effect he expected against the dark power upon him.
Still, Glorfindel didn't back down. His goal wasn't to defeat Sauron. He knew that wasn't possible under the present circumstances. The only thing he had to do was keep him occupied for as long as possible so the others could escape.
When Sauron swung his mace, Glorfindel quickly maneuvered aside and avoided the blow. Then he moved to the left and struck Sauron's arm several times with his sword in rapid succession. When the sword blows hit the armor, thin sparks flew.
Ding!
Ding!
But the blows left no visible mark on the armor. Glorfindel's brows drew together. He immediately ducked, dodged Sauron's hand as it reached for him, and lunged forward. Raising his sword, he landed several blows on Sauron's chest in a row. With every strike, new sparks flew as his sword hit the metal body.
Ding!
Ding!
Still, not a single scratch had appeared on Sauron's armor.
Glorfindel quickly pulled back and took up position again. As he tried to steady his breathing, he felt his chest growing heavier and heavier. Fighting Sauron was nothing like fighting an ordinary opponent. The Dark Lord's spiritual pressure was so strong that Glorfindel struggled to breathe and move, as if he were fighting underwater. Even moving his arms took more strength than usual.
Resting his mace on his shoulder, Sauron watched him calmly.
"Give up. It's impossible for you to stand against me."
Glorfindel tried to take a deep breath. Keeping his shoulders straight so as not to show his exhaustion, he answered.
"Maybe, but I won't surrender, and I'll fight you to the end."
Sauron was silent for a moment. Then he tilted his head slightly to one side.
"Foolish."
The moment he raised his hand toward Glorfindel, the shadows around them began to stir. The darkness spreading across the floor and walls of the cave soon changed shape and turned into evil tentacles made of shadow. The tentacles shot toward Glorfindel.
The moment the elf noticed the attack, he moved. Channeling the light inside him into his sword and dagger, he began cutting down the tentacles coming at him. He calculated every movement carefully, trying to avoid one attack while parrying another. When he swung his sword, the dark extensions were severed, but new ones appeared behind them.
Glorfindel's movements were still fast, but the exhaustion in his body was becoming more and more obvious. Sweat ran down his forehead and face, and his breathing grew uneven. Sauron's spiritual pressure was straining not only his body but his spirit as well. The darkness around him narrowed his room to move while also making it harder for him to use the light inside him.
He had thought he could hold out a while longer, but now he couldn't tell how long that would last.
As he swung his sword to cut one of the tentacles, he felt a movement behind him. His eyes suddenly widened. Sauron had appeared behind him all at once. He hadn't even noticed how he had come close.
Glorfindel turned immediately and raised his sword and dagger. At that very moment, the heavy mace, wrapped in a dark aura and giving off smoke, came down on him.
Thud!
When the blow struck his two weapons, he felt its impact through his whole body. His feet slid across the floor, and he was flung backward, slamming his back hard against the wall. As the stone wall cracked from the force of the impact and pieces of rock fell to the ground, the golden-haired elf felt his bones crack. As he barely stood and tried to take up a fighting stance, his whole body trembled for a moment. His breath caught in his chest, but he gritted his teeth and tried to pull himself together.
Because Sauron's attack wasn't over. As the dark tentacles reached for him again, Glorfindel kept swinging his sword to cut them down.
Sauron, for his part, increased his spiritual pressure even more. As the pressure around them kept growing, and the orcs and elves were affected by it even though they weren't its direct target, he tried to slow Glorfindel's movements and break his defense by wearing him out. The golden-haired elf was cutting the tentacles with one hand while struggling to keep his balance. Every movement now took more effort.
In the middle of this struggle, which lasted a few minutes, the sound of a horse's hooves and its whinny echoed through the cave.
While continuing his attack, Sauron narrowed his eyes and looked toward the direction of the sound. Glorfindel, however, was struggling to hold on any longer. He was drenched in sweat and out of breath, trying to keep his trembling body upright. One of the tentacles slipped through an opening and suddenly wrapped around his arm. The elf pulled his arm to free himself, but the dark extension gripped him tighter. Then it began to suppress the light inside him.
Glorfindel gritted his teeth as he raised his sword to cut the tentacle. He had to free his arm, but his body no longer responded as fast as before.
Meanwhile, the hoofbeats grew louder. As the horse's whinny echoed off the cave walls, some of the orcs near the entrance turned toward the sound. Before long, an armored rider appeared at the mouth of the cave.
Without slowing at all, the rider charged straight at Sauron. Using the horse's speed, he closed the distance in a few seconds. When Sauron noticed the approaching attack, along with the rider's identity and the spear he held, he immediately stepped aside and dodged the spear. After passing Sauron, the rider pulled hard on the reins. The moment he stopped his horse, he jumped off it.
The instant his feet touched the ground, he turned around, raised his weapon, and took a firm stance facing Sauron.
This sudden development had caught the attention of everyone in the cave.
The moment Elrond saw who had arrived, his eyes widened. Just a few seconds earlier, he had been searching for a way out of their situation. With Sauron standing before them and their surroundings crowded with Nazgûl and orcs, his options had nearly run out. But now, when he saw the one who had appeared before them, the helplessness he felt gave way to hope once more.
The other elves couldn't hide their astonishment either when they realized who had come. Since they had to keep up their attacks, they couldn't take their eyes off the fight for long, but they still glanced at the newcomer every so often. His appearance had given them hope that the situation they were in might change.
Sauron, meanwhile, studied this person who kept ruining his plans. Lifting the mace in his hand slightly, he sized up the stranger before him. He didn't attack directly, because he was standing before a weapon that could harm him. And there was no clear look of fear on the face of this elf, who had stepped in front of Sauron and drawn all his attention directly onto himself.
Holding Sauron in place before him, the newly arrived elf quickly gave his orders.
"ELROND! TAKE YOUR MEN AND CHARGE TOWARD THE EXIT! MY HORSE WILL SHOW YOU THE WAY! I'LL KEEP SAURON BUSY! GET OUT OF HERE AT ONCE!"
The moment Elrond heard the order, he moved. He didn't know how long the newcomer could keep Sauron occupied. He knew he might eventually have to fall back too. But turning down this chance that had appeared before them could amount to accepting the death of everyone inside. After glancing briefly at the newly arrived elf, Elrond gritted his teeth, parried the Nazgûl, and quickly gave his orders.
"ALL UNITS, PREPARE TO MOVE! GLORFINDEL! YOU MUST KEEP THE NAZGÛL AWAY FROM US! PULL YOURSELF TOGETHER AT ONCE!"
At that moment, the voice of Elrond, who was telling the story, echoed.
"The one who saved me, Durin, and my men from death that day was His Majesty, Gil-galad."