Of Wraiths and Kings, and Friends and Rings (Calling All Nazgul)

[Rían]

RÃ*an grinned back, remembering how Eärniel had introduced her to the men's water polo games at the Havens.

"Well, I don't recall the score," she said with a wink, "but I would say both teams definitely had some ... assets," and leaned in closer to provide more details.

A deep masculine voice interrupted their interesting conversation. "And what are you two ladies finding so interesting to talk about, if I may be so inquisitive? I sure hope it's today's game!"

RÃ*an and Eärniel looked up to see five or six of the top Rochdol players (who also happened to belong to some of the top families in Tharbad) smiling appreciatively at them.

"Why, how did you know? That's exactly what we were talking about!" they replied, with sparkling eyes.

[Udukhaturz]

Udu was pleased that no one had taken any particular notice of him during the grand arrival of King Valandil. He had carefully guarded all of his thoughts during the whole spectacle and had been mildly entertained at all the pomp and ceremony. He stayed mostly to the back of the throng as he strolled after the King and his dignitaries into the Great Hall for the Grand Reception.

He chuckled to himself as he thought of all the fortune-hunting females who would, no doubt, be clustering around the king. "So much the better," he thought, "all attention will be upon him and no one will take heed of the new professor of siege tactics." He did not even bother to look at the remote Professor Mahtaliel, but his eyes glinted a little warning when he saw Khamûl.

"Khamûl always liked his mind games," he thought in the back orders of his mind where no one except the strongest could ever venture. He wondered idly whether Khamûl might try to probe his thoughts again. "No," he thought, "Khamûl will probably be too occupied trying to probe the minds of others." He would never let him know that he was thinking that, and simply studied him quietly from a distance. His eyes softened when he saw Aiwendis, but he looked quickly away when he thought he saw the Chancellor's gaze fall on him.

He thought how glad he would be when the reception would draw to an end. Aiwendis had given him the pick of the University wine cellar and he planned after the festivities were over to find a few bottles to his liking and take them back to his room in the University. "Of course," he thought, "perhaps I will save them for later. I know little of this city and perhaps I will do some nocturnal exploring."

He thought of going to the livery stable and fetching his horse Minei, but no, he thought, such venturings are best done on foot. He smiled lightly and looked forward to the night after the grand occasion was over.

[Willow Oran]

Mahtaliel returned the thankfully innocuous ring to Aiwendis and stepped away from the group.
'Deep breath, Mahtaliel,' she told herself, 'Calm down.'

Slowly her nerves began to settle. She should have expected there to be numerous pieces of jewelry with accompanying exchanges of compliments and curious comments.
It was nothing to be alarmed about, really, so why was she still on edge?

[Gordis]

The Chancellor stood at the door of the Reception Hall, Aiwendis on his left, looking at the slowly approaching King and his entourage.

Valandil was a tall young man, with long dark hair and grey eyes, and a stubborn jaw of the Lords of Andunie. He looked a lot like his father, Isildur, so memorable from the store of memories of that poor wretch Ilmenzor. The young esquire was most loyal to his King and nearly worshipped him, it seemed. He had been a tough adversary, Ilmenzor, before months of starvation, mental torture and horrible dreams broke through his defences at last. The Morgul Lord read all of his mind and stored it for the future. Now this store came handy.

Following the King, came the young Marthalion, the Chancellor’s future student, and two men that the Chancellor couldn’t quite place. The taller, lame one certainly looked at him with wonder and recognition. Estelmo…, Elendur’s esquire. Now old, lame and bearded. The Chancellor smiled at him and turned his attention to the last man.

This one was shorter, but clearly of pure Numenorean blood. His look was devoid of any emotion, yet the Morgul Lord had a feeling that Ilmenzor had seen him before. There was no time to search for his name now. The King was approaching.

Keeping his own mind tightly shut, the Morgul Lord carefully sent his senses forth. Scanning for thoughts was not easy in this hall, full of expectant public. The though-din was terrible. Expertly channelling his senses, the Chancellor probed the King’s mind, trying to be as unobtrusive as possible.

He found Valandil’s mind tightly guarded. The Chancellor was unable to read any thought, only caught the feeling of the growing unease followed by dizziness. The king’s progress slowed considerably. Withdrawing at once, the Chancellor made a step forward and greeted the King.

Returning his greetings, the King introduced his followers. The Chancellor guessed right, the lame one was Estelmo. The man greeted him warmly, tears in his eyes. Estelmo was harmless enough, his mind open and his delight genuine. The enigmatic one was called Oreturion, the name the Chancellor had heard before from King Meneldil, who clearly hated the High King’s advisor. This one was dangerous, his mind a blank wall, eyes cold and searching.

A second later, the Morgul Lord felt both the King and his advisor trying to break through his defences and withdrawing, disappointed.

The Chancellor smiled. One has to be a maia or have the Ruling Ring to even hope to do that.

[Valandil]

Aiwendis turned to the King. Her candid grey eyes searched his face.
"I am very fond of jewellery, My Lord King. May I have a look at your Ring?"

"Well..." said Valandil, "I cannot show you mine here... and now... Perhaps some other time?"

They exchanged nervous smiles.

"Mine is actually ... an heirloom as well," added Valandil, as he looked into her eyes for the first time. "Tell me though, what other jewelry you have... or admire."

[Gordis]

Aiwendis smiled, and made a small dismissive gesture, letting Val admire her shapely, long-fingered hand.

"There is nothing to show, My Lord. Almost all our heirlooms were lost in the War. We have nothing to compete with the Royal house."

The maiden's eyes smiled back at Val, a tad sadly, he thought. He looked deeper into their depths, trying to reach her soul at the bottom, but the grey eyes were like waters of a deep stormy sea, utterly bottomless. Looking into them made the dizziness Val felt, while walking through the Entrance Hall, grip him again. He was startled when he heard the Chancellor's cold voice at his shoulder.

"I believe, Aiwendis, His Majesty was referring to the Ring of Barahir, the very one Beren wore on his Quest. It is the greatest heirloom of the House of Andunie, barring the Scepter of Annuminas and Elendilmir. I heard some of these priceless treasures had been lost in the tragic disaster at the Gladden Fields, but I am glad to learn that it is not so."

The Chancellor paused and then, turning fully to face Val, he added,
"I see, my Lord King, you still have the sword of your valiant father at your side. How was it possible to save it from the orcs?"

[The last sane person]

Well, working in a forge and listening to Ray paid off! Never know when knowledge on *jewerly* would come in handy... Marty observed the King, Aiwendis, Chancellor and Advisors of the King, all chatting fairly aimiably. But he knew better, and shuddered to think of all the mind-battles taking place. he slowly disengaged himself from the group and went to pour himself a glass of water, in order to shake the remaining beer-guzzled feeling.

Well, I must thank Ray yet again, after all this time of drinking contests, he's taught me a thing or two! For, already he was feeling better and not so mullish. Walking around and greeting people, as was the norm, he went over and discussed the days game with the six fellow Rochdol players. But they soon made way over to two pretty she elves standing by a table. Marty looked twice, for there was the "maid" from Orrodel! "I knew there was more to her than met the eye! Good for her to get out a bit..." He took another sip and looked over to a far corner, and found the Jewerly teacher looking nervously into her glass of wine.

Now, Marty may not have the mental training of Valandil or those others, but he was no dummy. He knew that Mahtaliel was, for some reason, shaken by the ring. With respect and politness, he went forward and attempted to open a conversation with her.

At Marty's approach, she looked up and scanned him a bit. Finding nothing hostile, immensly powerful and fairly,amazingly enough, NORMAL, she relaxed a bit. Thank Eru! Some one who isn't a threat here...

[Earniel]

After introducing themselves to the players and learning their names in exchange, Eärniel said: "It was indeed today's Rochdol game we were talking about. I was unable to attend and RÃ*an was just telling me how it had gone."

"Then she surely told you that, even though we had to do without King Valandil, we sure showed the Sarn Ford Team how to win properly!" Tarmund, one of the Rochdol players boasted.

Eärniel smiled. "No," she said, "RÃ*an had not had time to tell me yet who won, we were... side-tracked. But congratulations all the same! But you said King Valandil wasn't playing? I was under the impression he never missed a single game."

One of the players nodded. "He does not. But he had injured his ankle after a fall before the game. Yet Ray and Mart- excuse me, Raendil and Marthalion managed splendidly without him!"

"You should have seen the faces of the Sarn Ford Team! Such disappointment!" A third Rochdol player said with a wide grin that clearly showed how much he enjoyed thar particular memory.

The Rochdol players started laughing loudly. Eärniel and RÃ*an laughed too, and their laughter like falling crystal water mingled with the roarish laughter of the human Rochdol players.

This is more like it, Eärniel thought, pleased. She was starting to enjoy herself somewhat, the bothering thoughts and the little disagreement with RÃ*an's employer were forgotten. Coming here was perhaps not that big a mistake it had seemed at first.

[Grey_Wolf]

"Skreeee! Skreeeee!" could be heard from somewhere above the City. A dot of a Buzzard wobbled in the air far above the University.

[Gordis]

Maethor hardly had time to congratulate himself for the lack of attention of fortune-hunting females, when two girls approached him boldly. Both clearly belonged to that category, one a tall, rather flat blonde in orange, the other a plump brunette in green.

"Why are you standing here all alone, Lord… ? Sorry, I could not hear your name clearly, with all the crowd. My name in Miriel, and here is Malaphel, my little sister. Our father is the Governor of Tharbad"

"Are you the King’s knight? Are you from Annuminas? Malaphel asked, interrupting her sister.

"No, silly, he is a Professor!"

" Are you new to the City, then? Would you like us to take you around tomorrow?"

"My young Ladies, My name is Maethor. I…" started Udu, but was interrupted again.

" By the way, have you met Aiwendis? The one in white there, chatting with the King. We are her best friends. Come now, we will introduce you!"

Udu could not help but overhear the accompanying thought "...and she will introduce us to the King!"

[Udukhaturz]

Maethor had been standing by himself at the reception when two unknown females approached him. His eyes scanned over them, a tall blonde wearing what he considered rather a strong shade of orange, and the other, a plump brunette who had chosen to wear green. To be careful, he quickly scanned their thoughts. He found both their minds filled with constant chatter about gossip, gowns and jewels, but mostly about prospective husbands and the king. He looked over their thoughts for anything that might be interesting to him. He found little, until this thought about Lady Aiwendis flashed across his mind: "...and she will introduce us to the King!" "They might prove useful," he thought, "in obtaining information."

"I am delighted to meet both of you!" he said, bowing. "I am Professor Maethor and I teach Siege Tactics. Now to your questions. To answer yours, Miriel, I am alone because I know few people in the city. Malaphel, I am not from Annuminas."

He grinned at both of them. "I would be highly honored if two such charming ladies as you would show me about the city tomorrow. I would like to see every landmark, every place of interest, any place you would care to show me. I am interested in purchasing a house here in the city. Perhaps, should you know of any for sale, you might guide me to that. I would be very grateful for all the assistance you could give me."

He guarded his mind tightly, and thought, "Yes, you trusting, silly girls, all the assistance you could give me."

He considered the other question about Lady Aiwendis. Recalling their first meeting in Tharbad that afternoon and the unpleasantness with Khamul, he thought it would be better to say little. "The Lady and I have not been formally introduced. Since you are her best friends, perhaps you would be so good as to introduce us. If you would be so kind, I would be forever in your debt," he said, turning on his best charm.

[Rían]

RÃ*an and Eärniel listened to the men's tales with expressions of rapt attention on their faces. Their minds wandered at will among the various Elven realms when things got more technical than they wanted.

"And I certainly hope both of you ladies will attend the next game, and perhaps let me carry a small token from you as I play?" finished Tarmund gallantly (and hopefully).

"We will see," replied RÃ*an, and smiled. But remembering her note from earlier that day, she knew that her answer would be no. She smiled more fully as she recalled what was written to her, and a light blush played across her cheeks, giving Tarmund some unintentional false encouragement.

"So, do the men of Tharbad play at any water sports?" Eärniel inquired with a mischevious smile.

RÃ*an's mind flew back to the Havens. Both Eärniel and Eärendil, King Turgon's grandson and a half-elven like RÃ*an, had come of age there. Ahh, the games - the intense competition, the skill and strength of the players, the interesting, intricate uniforms with various water themes, Eärendil's jewels ... er, jewel ...

and at the memory of the Silmaril and what had happened there because people loved things more than people, the light went out of her eyes.

[Willow Oran]

Mahtaliel welcomed the boy's attempt at conversation with intense relief.

"New student?" She guessed. He looked about the same age as the king,
give or take a few years,guessig ages wasn't one of her strong points.

"Yes," he confirmed her guess, "I'm part of Val- The king's household. Guard and friend rolled into one you might say. Um... I meant to ask, well, you looked awfully shaken back there. If it was something I said I apologize."

Mahtaliel smiled, pleased by his politeness, "Thank you, but don't worry, it wasn't your fault. Events like this just tend to make me over tense. I didn't get out much during break and now suddenly it's the beginning of the term and there are new students, new professors and dignitaries all over the place all with their own set of tensions and dramas and here they are all crammed into a room. It's very..."

"Nerve-wracking?" He suggested.

"Precisely. What classes were you planning on taking Lord... ai! I am a mess tonight! What was your name again?"

"Marthalion, don't feel bad, they didn't really introduce us, or anyone yet."

"No, they didn't did they? Unusual. I'm Lady Mahtaliel, head of the Art and History departments, you'll likely be in at least one of my classes."

[Butterbeer]

Beautiful boomerang was fluttering high over the streets of the twinkling city.

Basking in the fresh almost salty airs above the star be-jewelled river, surfing playfully on the eddies of the air ....

as the chimes of old Blue, the University bell had rung in the seventh hour of the evening with their deeply resonant hanging notes, Beautiful had suddenly focused and flew rapidly like a ... like a ... butterfly in haste

below the evening scenes of the City were being played out ... there was Constable BB, leaving the 'Singing Swan' and as boomerang arrowed in lower, he could just make out .... yes.... whistling cheerfully!

a dashing and very playful rider appeared to be heading towards him on a beautiful horse ....

flying closer to the university, and approaching the Cloisters at last he became aware of a sudden wave of excitement and noise ... ahhh! the Tortoises ... smiling, beautiful dropped headlong into the cloisters and into a cacaphony of owl hoots, squirrel chatter and wildy excited tortoise talk ...
not something you heard often: wildy excited tortoise talk! ... but boy, when they DID get excited they really lost it, there were songs, shouts, leathery claps, rythmic drumming noises ...

Boomerang was enjoying it immensly but he just in time noticed that there ahead just entering the reception was old Bumbledore. Boomerang smiled again.
Boomerang flitted nippily inside the opened door - just in time ... ere it was closed ... whew! that was close even for a wraith!

it being then just seven of the clock, all eyes had turned expectantly to the new arrival .... boomerang felt a sudden piercing lash of thoughts concentrated on his arrival ... Sir Bumbledore, must have felt it too, for not expecting so much sudden attention he had tried a doddery jaunty wave and had snagged his be-slippered foot, tripped, and careered wildly, arms and legs flailing willy nilly, and with a large squeachly THUD had landed nose first onto the red carpet ...

Boomerang soared high to the rafters to find a good vantage point....


.................................................. .........................................


Professor Bumbledore was exhilarated ... in his haste he'd hardly noticed at first the tortoise... funny that, he'd pondered ... that must be the 100th time a tortoise has walked me in to the reception ... he liked traditions though ... and was looking forward immensly to the post dinner annual pie -throwing contest... not the oddest of the university traditions by far, but always a good way to introduce the new professors and lecturers to the faculties and City at large... it had been a tradition since time out of mind and naturally he was looking forward to seeing so many old friends after the summer hols ... and of course meeting all the new academics in person ...

... the cloisters had been alive with wierd sounds, hoots, humming noises and squirrel chatter ... but bumble had been more concerned with quenching his thirst with a lively chilled white from the southern slopes of Belfalas ...
his family had traded that way for many a year and he had personally stocked the University cellars with many cases of fine wines ...

at last he had approached the doors, where young Bimble and his even younger brother bomble had welcomed him, as the university doorwards, dressed to the nines in the university regalia, with a warm smile ... the doors had opened ...

for a second, time had seemed to still, a wave of expectation, attention and thoughts had hit him ... Bumble wheezed gently and waved a jaunty hand ... suddenly he had lost his balance and toppled ... waving his arms and legs like one of the eastern statues he had traded to such great effect in his younger days, he had instantly nose-dived forward .... THUD!


No sooner had he been helped up by a group of helping hands, than there had been an important announcement and he had had to stand in line to receive the King ... now that had been mildly embarrasing ... as the king had entered and recieved bows and curtesys .. old bumbledore had been keeping his timing impecabbly ... so when the king was but 20 seconds away he had begun to bow ... this had worked a charm as by the time Valandil had reached him he was fully bowed ... unfortunately he appeared to have set off a timing gaff and a ripple effect of bows had spread all down the line behind him, as bows and curtesys were flowing down the line on his side, as one after another uncertainly followed suit ... now everytime the next person bowed or curtsied the trend continued ... ahhh! a tradition in the making he mused ...

The King though had not appeared to notice .. he seemed quite focused, almost distracted, thought Professor bumbledore, .. once the King and his entourage had passed, he wved at the wall-lined drink servers who were even now converging on him to be the first to serve his wine... and recieve the traditional Gold coin... bumble knew commerce... and he knew the delicacies of healthy reward and competition ... he also knew his wines, and was a very thirsty man!

[Grey_Wolf]

Buteo the Buzzard saw something flit over the City, a tiny flying insect.
"That looks like a nice little tidbit. I'll swoop down at grab that morsel." he thought and swooped down into the Campus following that tiny flitting flying figure. But just as he was about snap it it flew into the Reception Hall and the doors closed. Just in in time Buteo swerved aside so he wouldn't slam into the glass-doors and headed up above the City again to continue his watching out for things interesting.

[CrazySquirrel]

Malaphel was happy with her idea of befriending that tall handsome Professor, Maethor.
Miriel thought the younger sister was a bit dumb, but in fact, she always had the best ideas.
"Without me", Malaphel thought , "you would still be standing in a corner, like a wall-flower".

Taking Maethor's arms, one on the left, another on the right, MM's led their prize to the center of the hall. On their way, they passed the two she-elves, who have already managed to collect a crowd of nice young men about them. "Bloody pointy-eared fortune hunters," thought Miriel bitterly. However, surprisingly, they didn't seem to be interested in King Val.

The real threat in this respect was Aiwendis. While they approached the central group, MM's saw her shamelessly flaunting her jewelry in front of the King and a handsome one-eyed knight. Miriel's face felt hot with indignation, when she observed the King looking intimately right in the eyes of the Chancellor's daughter, while she was smiling back impudently.

"What a hypocrite!" thought Malaphel, who hadn't missed the scene either. "And she wanted us to believe she was never even interested in men!"

[Telcontar_Dunedain]

Khamûl quietly observed the goings on in the room observed. Everyone was gathered round an elderly man telling tales of the Gladden.
'So he was there,' thought Khamûl. 'I may need to befriend this man. His defences don't seem to be to strong.'
Suddenly the attenion shifted from the old soldier to a younger man who Khamûl recognised. It was young Marthalion. A friend of Lily's. He was holding Aiwendis' hand admiring her Ring. Khamûl started to pay more attention and began to carefully delve deeper into his mind. He felt another presence there, a strong one, yet not one he recognised. Khamûl would have to be quick if he was to accomplish anything.
'Tell us of other's you know with Rings,' suggested Khamûl in Marty's head.
"Now... his is plainer, and has no stone," continued Marty. "But Valandil has an Elven ring too! Hey Valandil, can you show her your ring."
Suddenly Khamûl was very interested, but these hope were soon shot down by a quite and distant voice in his mind.
"Very good Khamûl," said the voice of the Chancellor. "You have much improved. Your defences are strong so that even I struggle to break them and you now posses the power of suggestion. But don't get to excited. He means the Ring of Barahir, one of th great heirlooms of Numenor."
Within five minutes the excitment died down and Khamûl approached the old soldier.
"I fear you have lost your audience," said Khamûl as pleasently as he could.
"Aye, I fear that to," replied the man. "I'm Estelmo, former esquire to Elendur, eldest son of Isildur and elder brother of our King."
"I'm Galadannûn. Professer of Oriental Languages," replied Khamûl.
"Good day Professer. You are new to Tharbad, no?"
"Yes, I arrived the other day."
"Can I get you a drink. I see your goblet is empty."
"No, I'm sorry. I need to talk to young Aiwendis before the evening is out. Maybe we could meet tomorrow. You could tell me some of your tales, maybe even recount the glorious fall of your master."
"Yes, that'd be good. Let's say midday at the Red Herring."
"I'll see you there," replied Khamûl, turning towards Aiwendis.
"Hello my lady. I'm sorry about earlier on. It's just Ud.. I mean Maethor has been plaging me longer than I'd like."

[Gordis]

Hearing Khamul’s voice, Aiwendis quickly moved away from the main group. She didn’t like the Second, and was more than a little afraid of him.
"Ah yes, My Lord … Galadannun, is it? Nice to meet you. Welcome to Tharbad and to our house".

Looking around, Aiwendis moved even further from the King and continued,
"I heard you were taking over the Chair of Oriental Languages. The University is fortunate to have you. Thank you that you agreed to come here. The former Professor had a tragic accident while riding… his horse suddenly bolted, and he broke his neck. He was such a charming man, Professor Barandur."

"How unfortunate for him", grinned Galadannun. "Did anybody see it happen?"
"Yes of course, it has happened right in the middle of the main street, Menetar, on a Market day. Nobody understood what has frightened the horse."

Khamul smiled again, a cruel, tight smile. Suddenly all his senses bristled. He turned his head sharply and saw Udu approaching, a broad smile on his face, towing two mortal girls with him. Aiwendis moaned inaudibly. The MM’s were coming at her.
The girls rushed forward.

"Sorry to interrupt you Ai, but we most certainly need to present our new friend to you" cried Malaphel, pushing Udu forward.
"His name is Maethor and he is a new Professor here! Can you imagine, nobody thought to present him to you!" squealed Miriel.

Aiwendis curtseyed slightly in greeting, and said coldly, without a smile, her bright eyes hidden behind long lashes, "Nice to meet you, Lord Maethor. Welcome to Tharbad and to this house. Here is Professor Galadannun, your new colleague"

[Butterbeer]

In the crowded cloisters suddenly the mood had changed from excitement and merriment to shock and anger ... a foreign predator bird had invaded Tharbad and attempted to assasinate one of the leaders of Air and what's more the eldest and most prominent alliance lord in the West ... Walnut the Squirrel leader had chattered out a steady stream of swear words and orders ... bushy tails were leaping at lightning speed in every direction ...several Owls were hooting and taking flight taking messages East, West, North ans South, while after a very quick debate the remaining Owls took wing and flew at the Buzzard in an attacking V wing...

Quickly word reached Purple-heart the veterean butterfly of the attack ... Cruel Claw, lord of the Tharbad guild of predators, but two minutes later was informed ...


Within 10 minutes the Buzzard had been torn apart... and the skies over Tharbad were humming in the evening air, even the bees and the wasp wings were co-operating ...

calls were to be sent out to Wise-whit and for the first time Lomi was to be called to attend with her father the grand Council ... was this an act of war from rival predators or the act of one mad or rogue killer?

was a War coming? An emergency meeting of the Grand Council must be held ...

[Udukhaturz]

Maethor walked arm in arm with Miriel and Malaphel. Their thoughts were simple to read, nothing complicated there. Obviously, each sister was jealous of the other. They certainly did not like elves, nor did they like the attention that Aiwendis had been receiving from King Valandil.

Turning to Miriel and Malaphel, he smiled and reclaimed his arms. Then, with a full, low courtly bow, he greeted Aiwendis. "It is indeed a pleasure to meet you, my lady. Thank you for welcoming me to the city." Then turning to Khamul, he nodded slightly. "Professor Galadannun, an honor to meet you. I am sure we will have a most pleasant and beneficial association."

He stepped back slightly. "These charming ladies, Miriel and Malaphel, have been most kind as to offer to guide me about the city tomorrow. Charming, are they not?" he said as he listened to their giggling.

He turned his attention from looking into the minds of Miriel and Malaphel. He knew Aiwendis was uncomfortable with the situation. He blocked his thoughts carefully against others and channeled a thought to Aiwendis: "Is Khamul distressing you again as he did this afternoon?"

"Yes, yes, Miriel and Malaphel have vowed to show me every landmark and point of interest in this city. If they would be so kind as to help me, perhaps I will look for a more permanent dwelling here. However, I am in no hurry to move from my quarters here. There is such an opportunity to be exposed to a wide variety of interesting people here. Nothing like a university for wide diversity," he said casually as he took a goblet from the tray of a passing servant.

"Professor Galadannun, perhaps you should come over to my quarters some evening. We can discuss our respective fields of teaching and interests... over some wine, of course."

He sent this message to Khamul in thought: "Am I irritating you that badly, my friend?" and smiled his usual smile which seldom went to his eyes.

[Valandil]

The Chancellor had just turned from Aiwendis to Valandil, asking, "I see, my Lord King, you still have the sword of your valiant father at your side. How was it possible to save it from the orcs?"

"When word arrived at Imladris of the attack, we organized a search party - which I led, though still no more than a boy... at the time. We found the field of battle, found Estelmo," Valandil nodded toward the older gentleman, "being tended at a woodsman's cottage, and finally found this sword at the River's edge, along with some other effects of my father's."

"Oh - pray tell, what other things did he leave behind which were at least recovered?" asked the Chancellor.

But just then Aiwendis stepped discretely apart from the little group to join the very same professor who had accompanied Valandil on the ride back from Swanfleet... Galadnunn? Or something like it? ... Galadanunn - that was it! Valandil looked about the room a bit more and saw another professorial type coming in their general direction with two young ladies - one on each arm. He sighed... probably young eligible daughters of local nobles, coming to be introduced to the High King.

But the Chancellor had just asked him a question. "Oh - not much to speak of, if you'll excuse me." and then he headed toward another point in the room. He had seen that some of his team-mates had cornered a couple Elf maidens, including EARNIEL... and felt that he ought to join in. After all, rochdol players could get...

He arrived to overhear Eärniel asking one of them with a smile and a wink toward her friend, "So, do the men of Tharbad play at any water sports?"

"Why of course we do," said Valandil as he stepped into the group. "At least we, all about this kingdom, who are descended of Numenor - where all were expert sailers, swimmers and who played games of all manner in the water."

He then turned to face Eärniel directly and said with a slight smile of his own, "Thy friend I know not, but thee I feel I have seen before, but as if in a dream under moonlight. Fair was that dream - if dream it was, and fair of a different kind is this vision of thee by firelight."

'You idiot!' he thought to himself. 'Totally botched that first chance in the swamp and now you've already said too much right away at your second chance!' but he stood nonetheless, facing the ladies expectantly.

[Earniel]

Eärniel chuckled shortly and smiled but Valandil noticed it was not to mock his words, much to his relief.

"Any dream that relieves an injured ankle - be it under moonlight of light of flames- is fair indeed, I would say." Eärniel responded. "But had it been truly a dream I fear you would still be counting the passing swans in Nîn-In-Eilph at this moment, my lord."

Eärniel had known the High King would be present this night but his entering their conversation all of a sudden was still unexpected. She had assumed the likes of the Chancellor and his fair daughter (not to mention the scores and scores of eager, young damsels) would have kept him occupied for the remainder of the night.

But she perceived that he had not sought out their company on a whim. She could already feel two pairs of angry eyes boring in the back of her head. Oh, she had not missed the two sisters who had conned a professor into introducing them into the circle of the Chancellor and the King, only to see that very King high-tail out of there! They would no doubt blame RÃ*an and herself for the failure of their rather obvious plot. Praise to Ilúvatar for remembering to make Elves stare-proof! It was perhaps not the best way to get acquinted with new class mates, Eärniel mused. But it could not be helped.

But there was more than the mere wish of being rid of those two prospective young queens that had brought the King here. She noticed there was a certain... protectiveness in his eyes when he looked at the other Rochdol-players. It was as if he was warning his team-mates to be at their best behaviour. Eärniel was amused. So alike Nardol... Although she doubted either of them would like to hear that.

"But let me introduce my companion." Eärniel said as she placed her hand on RÃ*an's shoulder. "My lord, this is Lady RÃ*an of Gondolin, a long time friend of mine that has been so kind to accompany me tonight."

[Grey_Wolf]

removed.

[Telcontar_Dunedain]

Khamûl smiled back at his fellow Nazgûl.
"It would be my pleasure," replied Khamûl, at which point Udu's smile vanished. "Yet alas, I have to return to my brother and sister. Maybe another time."
'You just keep thinking of your land and wives. Maybe I should send them a small message!; replied Khamûl mentally.
"Maybe we could have a drink now instead," said Khamûl, raising his goblet and gesturing towards a nearby table which stood empty.
Heasitently Udu walked towards the table, obviously wary of a trap.
"You need not be scared Maethor. I have not lured you over here under false pretences. We need to talk, about the others."
"Others?" replied Udu.
"Ladies Lilaewen, Viniglaen and Lord Pengolod."
"What about them," said Udu slowly.
"You may have found out about what happened earlier with Lady Lilaewen," said Khamûl.
"Ah yes. With the Ring," smiled Udu. He had never really got on with Lily two compatriots.
"Yes, well. I fear that they may be mounting an assault on me," said Khamûl.
"And this would involve me how?" replied Udu, his smile increasing.
"I need to know that your alliegence is to the Chancellor and I, not to them. I know we have never been best of friends to say the least, but the Chancellor will reward you when we are done here, if you pledge your alleigence to us."
Maethor grinned, Khamûl was asking for his help.
Khamûl grinned back, he felt Udu weaken slightly. He had him where he wanted him. Was he on side? Perhaps, only time would tell.
"Now if you don't mind, I need to go and talk to Lady Aiwendis," said Khamûl.

[Rían]

RÃ*an saw a young man dressed in deep, dark blue come up to their group, and came out of her reverie. She recognized him to be the High King by the emblems of his house which he wore. "They suit him well," she thought, "they seem to complement what is truly inside him, instead of covering up what is lacking."

"Why of course we do," said the young man in answer to Eärniel's question, as he stepped into the group. "At least we, all about this kingdom, who are descended of Numenor - where all were expert sailers, swimmers and who played games of all manner in the water."

She watched him with interest as he turned to face her friend more directly. He spoke courteously and well, as befits a High King. And he was very attractive, too, which is not strictly necessary for the role, but is never amiss. Unless one doesn't like being pursued by the ladies! But he looked as if he could take care of himself.

The Rochdel player standing next to Eärniel looked distinctly disappointed at the arrival of the King.

"Hmm, you are courteous indeed, Valandil Isildurion; methinks more courteous than is strictly necessary!" she observed, as the King moved just a little closer to her friend.

[Gordis]

Aiwendis was talking with Galadannun, when she saw MM’s approaching, hanging on both arms of Maethor. They rushed to her, chattering incoherently, as usual, and calling her "Ai". Aiwendis hated when someone shortened her name. Trained as she was to keep her emotions under tight control, she still couldn’t restrain an almost audible half-moan half-growl. In all her long life, she hardly knew anyone as utterly irritating as MM’s. "Perhaps I am growing too old for innocent maiden’s talk… " she thought bitterly.

At this moment, a thought from Udu flashed through her brain. "Is Khamul distressing you again as he did this afternoon?"

Aiwendis smiled and replied, careful to channel her thought precisely. "Thank you, Udu, ever are you nice and caring. Not, not Khamul, but these girls prove most distressing to me. Please, keep them with you and allow me to escape".

But there was no escape. Nothing but brute force could save Aiwendis now. Gripped by MM’s on both sides, she was steadily driven towards the King, who, oblivious to everything, was talking with Lady Earniel.

[Rían]

"But let me introduce my companion." Eärniel said as she placed her hand on RÃ*an's shoulder. "My lord, this is Lady RÃ*an of Gondolin, a long time friend of mine that has been so kind to accompany me tonight."

The king turned to face RÃ*an and gave her a pleasant smile, which was mirrored in his eyes, as it should be. Smiles involving only part of the face are not pleasant things. They were exchanging courtesies when they noticed a determined group of people coming their way. The king stiffened slightly and put on a more formal demeanor.

[Udukhaturz]

“Khamûl has changed little over the years since I last saw him,� Udu thought with irritation. “Just as arrogant and self-confident as ever.�

Maethor was sitting at a table at the side of the room and scarcely noticed the serving girl when she refilled his goblet. “How many have I drunk tonight?� he wondered. “Was it three? Was it six? What does it matter anyway?�

At least he was not allowing himself to be led around by Miriel and Malaphel right now, but he would continue to watch their thoughts to see if they revealed anything interesting. “Doubtful,� he thought, “unless I want to find out the latest trivial gossip.�

Aiwendis was obviously not enjoying the presence of the two sisters. “I am afraid I cannot divert their attention from you unless I use measures that would attract attention. If I can, I will offer to dance with them, though I do not enjoy that prospect. If Khamûl proves too much of a bother to you, perhaps I will think of something to distract him,� he told her in thought.

He had resented that implied threat that Khamûl had sent him mentally: “You just keep thinking of your land and wives. Maybe I should send them a small message!�

What kind of message, Maethor pondered. Khamûl’s agents back in the East, of course! Ever was he treacherous! A knife hurled by an assassin? An ambush? A poisonous serpent hidden in a bolt of fine cloth sent as a “gift� to one of his wives? Or perhaps a beautiful, inlaid jewelry box with a mechanism that would prick their fingers with poison-drenched shards of metal? Oh, Khamûl had his ways, Maethor thought. When the news would finally reach Udu at last, Khamûl would be oh-so-sympathetic about the “tragedy.�

“You need not be scared Maethor,� Khamûl had told him. Udu was not afraid for himself, but he would remember Khamûl’s thinly veiled threat to his family. Irritated, Maethor warned Khamûl in thought, “I am not afraid of you. Keep your jackals away from my family! I am not without devices of my own.

“You ask where my allegiance lies, my friend? Primarily with myself, and I will not commit otherwise, unless I am forced! And there is nothing that you could do if I decided upon the morrow to shake the dust of this town from my boots, mount my horse, and ride away! Nothing that would not attract great attention, anyway. I do not think you want that.� Maethor smiled his cold smile and sipped from his goblet.

[Gordis]

The help came from the Captain. Aiwendis and MM’s were already quite close to the group of chatting Elves and rochdol-players, when the Chancellor stepped in their path.

"Aiwendis, don’t tarry here with your friends", he said, nodding briefly to the curtseying MM’s. It is time for dinner. Go and see if all is ready."

"All shall be done as you say, my father".
Aiwendis bowed to the Chancellor and heard his silent order. "Place Estelmo on your left, instead of Oreturion. This one shall sit on my right, next to the elf, Earniel. I want to be between him and the King. Watch this man, he is dangerous. And don’t forget the old custom."

Then, turning his cold gaze on the two Tharbad girls, he smiled at them and said pleasantly, "Fair maids, welcome to the Reception. Please, go find your father, Lord Azrabel and your lady mother. I will introduce them to the King."

[Gordis]

Left alone for a time, the Chancellor quietly observed his guests, all thoughts concealed by the adamant walls of his mind-shield. Ages of dealing with the temperamental Black Maia had made the Morgul Lord’s mind-shield unusually strong, even for a ringwraith.

The King was speaking with Earniel the Elf, his blushed cheeks of an amorous schoolboy plain to see. One needs not to be a sorcerer to guess what it was all about… Perhaps it was a mistake to invite the Elf. Not that there seemed to be another option… Perhaps the potion, that Aiwendis prepared last night, will overrule Valandil’s ill-begotten infatuation with the Elf.

The Chancellor’s dark thoughts turned to Oreturion. The advisor was in constant communication with the King, the Morgul Lord was sure of it, though he couldn’t read the messages passing by. He was strong, that advisor, stronger than the boy-King, son of a sorcerer.

The Chancellor considered his options. Mortals knew four levels of mind-discipline. Elves knew five. There were nine that the Morgul Lord could use himself, though the upper four would be, doubtless, considered Evil Black Sorcery by the unlearned. These levels included breaking people’s minds asunder in order to read the innermost secret thoughts, zombieing people, by implanting the desired behavioural patterns in their minds, causing strong emotions, like abject fear, in a multitude of people and affecting physical objects at a distance. The use of any of these skills was far too revealing.

The fifth level, the one known to Elves, included putting an impenetrable shield around a person, a sort of thick cocoon, preventing all mind communication or mind-reading. The Chancellor considered doing it to Valandil, but decided against. Becoming suddenly mentally deaf and mute was too stressful, and was bound to alert him unduly. Instead, the Chancellor decided to put the cocoon on Oreturion, for a brief time, when the potion will be presented to the King. At least, the advisor will not prevent the King from drinking it.

At this moment fat Azrabel and his bony wife Nimloth bowed to the Chancellor, their excited rosy - cheeked daughters in tow. Ilmenzor greeted the Governor, and led him to the King, interrupting his silly attempts at courting Earniel.

"I am loath to interrupt you, My Lord King", said the Chancellor with one of his charming smiles, "but here is Lord Azrabel, the Governor of Tharbad, and Lady Nimloth, his wife and our distant relative."

[Butterbeer]

Sir Bumbledore's stomach rumbled ... he was hungry after so much strenous exercise...

Standing in the corner alone he had quenched his thirst ... where was the professor of wines he mused? he would welcome some thoughts on the wine list tonight ...

Attempting to light his pipe he fumbled for his tinder-box ...

"Sauron's balls!" he sighed ... where the blazes was it?

Surreptisously he delved into the dark and deep recesses of his dressing gown, absently pulling out a cork, some athelas drops, an obscure looking ring and of course his set of daggers ... always a good party peice those, he smiled ....

....

after a slight pause in reminiscence ... Bumble's peircing eye bulged and he ran a hand through his shock of silvery hair .... mmm ... bushy eyebrows bristling with concentration he set his sharp but chaotic mind to concentrating ....

now ... what was he looking for again?

[Gordis]

At this moment the doors to the dining hall opened. Aiwendis glided to the King and bowed deeply. "Your Majesty, the dinner is served. Allow me to take you to the table".

With a wistful glance at Earniel, Valandil offered his hand to Aiwendis and led the way to the Hall.

Earniel turned to Rian, intending to go with her, when the chancellor bowed before her and offered his hand. "Allow me to lead you, Fair Lady. I have always wished to come to know the Lady of Nin-in Eilph better"

[Willow Oran]

"It seems they've finally decided to feed us." Marty commented, seeing the doors open, "I was beginning to wonder if how long they were going to make us wait."

He and Mahtaliel had drifted to the side of the hall where they had talked about the upcoming classes. Mahtaliel had been gratified to find that he was interested in smith work, and as the conversation went on she had become more and more open. Students always had that effect on her. Mahtaliel may have come to Tharbad for lack of any other place to go, but she had stayed because she truly loved teaching.

"I believe they had some last minute re-arranging to take care of." She replied cheerfully, "But come, will you escort an aged professor in?"

"Gladly my Lady."

[Udukhaturz]

Maethor was on his seventh goblet of wine when a servant came by his table and directed him to go to the dining hall. He looked around for Malaphel and Miriel and was pleased to see that they were occupied and not looking for him. Both were talking to a stately older man and woman. He saw from their thoughts that this pair was their parents, Lord Azarbel and Lady Nimloth. "Useful information," he thought, and filed it in his mind.

Finishing his goblet, he followed the servant into the dining hall. His gray eyes flicked to those who were already present at the table. He wondered how much more time it would be before the meal began. He stood respectfully waiting behind his chair until the Chancellor would announce, "Let the feast begin."

The night would perhaps be a long one. When it would be appropriate, he would have another goblet of wine and devote his full attentions to it. He wondered who would be sitting beside him. Soon enough he saw Malaphel and Miriel and their father and mother, the Lord and Lady of Tharbad. There was also an elderly sort wearing a dressing gown and slippers. "By the flame of the Master!" he thought. They were all walking towards his end of the table. Perhaps he would order a whole bottle of wine.

[Lotesse]

Viniglaen leaned in close to Laslech's glossy dark neck, and breathed deep of the sweetly musty smell of the horse's fur, as the two of them grew acquainted with one another by galloping free around the Tharbad Park grounds. After a few minutes, they slowed to a trot, and as they passed across Menetar Boulevard and headed toward Orrodel, Viv spotted the town Chief Constable, walking along with his hands behind his back and whistling a little tune to himself. She reigned Laslech in to a gentle walk, in order to politely acknowledge him as she passed.

"Good e'en to you, milady!" The constable was an endearing and much liked figure in Tharbad, devoted to his position and kind-hearted and fair to the core.

"And to you as well, sir," responded Viv, as she continued.

"I say, milady, it is a mite dangerous this eve'nin' for a Lady to be out an' about ridin' alone."

"Why?" asked Viv. One thing about Viv, she'll cut to the chase.

"Ah, milady, t'is an unusual happ'nin' to be sure, but we've just apprehended a rather dangerous sort 'a fella for lurkin' 'round riverbanks lookin' for trouble," the Constable replied. "Would 'e like an escort home, milady?"

"No, sir, I live only over there," said Viv, pointing across the way to the looming structure of Orrodel Mansion. "I thank you kindly for your concern, though." She flashed him one of her trademark disarming, charming smiles, her deep violet eyes belying naught but pure sweet innocence and youth.

"Very good then, milady, well, t'were a delight to have met you this eve'nin', Lady..."

"I am Lady Viniglaen," Viv said. "I must take my leave now sir, I am late for an appointment." 'Yeah, appointment with getting away from the cops,' she was thinking in her head. 'But he's a sweet old fellow. I sure hope he let Grisznutz go safely. Poor old Grizzy!'

Viniglaen brought Laslech to the Orrodel stables, where one of the cute stableboys Rian had hired was only too happy to brush and water the beautiful new Mearas. She went inside, hung up her riding cloak in the foyer, and immediately headed upstairs to check on Lilly and Five. She had a feeling that Lil was up to something, and Viv was hoping it wasn't going to be what she thought it might.

Viv rapped on Lil's boudoir door twice, and let herself in. There was Lilly, sitting crosslegged on her enormous bed, trying to push a tiny rolled-up scroll of paper into the waxen effigy of what Viv could only surmise must be meant to represent Khamul. Five was looking at the ceiling, trying to chant out some spell he'd learned in Rhun years ago. Viv rolled her eyes, and shut the door behind her.

"Please tell me that you're not trying to put a pain spell on Khamul, you guys," she said, as she went over to the side of the bed and disapprovingly peered down at the sticky mess of wax pieces and ink droplets all over the bed's coverlet.

"Wait - wait - oh, I ALmost had it!" said Pen, shaking his head and squinting his eyes, still struggling to recall the words of the spell.

"Not that I'm encouraging this little game you too are up to, but Five I guarantee your memory would work a thousand times more efficiently if you didn't drink so much," said Viv.

Pen broke his concentration for a moment, and looked at her levelly. "That's the pot calling the kettle black, don't you think?"

"No, it isn't, because Iam not the one trying to remember old Rhun spells, now am I?"

That stumped Five for a second. He blinked.

"Um - no. I mean yes. Rather - Oh, Vivvie I don't know! Say, do you happen to remember how this pain spell goes, I forget the last sentence of it."

"Even if I DIDknow, there's no way I'd encourage you two to do this to Khamul."

"Well, it IS'nt your decision, smarty-pants," retorted Lil from the bed, eyes still riveted to her funny-looking little wax doll, trying now to sculpt a tiny nose and tiny ears on the effigy of Khamul the Cruel.

"Fine, have your fun," Viv relented.

Viniglaen knew full well that there was no stopping Lil, but she also knew that Lil wouldn't even be able to cause Khamul any real damage. She'd probably just end up irritating him or pissing him off. 'Nonetheless,' thought Viniglaen, 'I should make my way over to Khamul and try and smooth the sheets before the bed gets rumpled, as they say. There's a lot to be said for the long-term benefits of preventive measury.'

"AH!" Pen gleefully snapped his fingers. "NOW I remember, my darling." He bent in low to Lilly, and as they huddled together over their waxen enemy, muttering spells, Viv left them at it, and went downstairs to head for the cellar. It was high time for a moment alone with her precious miruvor. But she didn't get far. There was a polite knocking at the door, and Zimra appeared out of the kitchen in a flash, and graciously answered the door. It was Ray!

[The last sane person]

Searching for his shirt, Ray was growling at just about everything. Drat Marty, Drat Val and the entire line of them. If they cant stand a single night without me, so be it! I thought Val was old enough not to need someone to constantly lean on...not that I wont support him, but come on, its just a bunch of girls he has to fend off... He has found the note pinned to his door by Val's squire when he went to his room. Damnit, I told him I wasnt comming today...the ninny. He really needs himself a girl. But, despite his thoughts, he was still getting dressed and brushing his hair, getting ready for the feast. As per usual, he looked resplendant in his house colors and livery.

Volricom waited for his master and trotted out of the stable, slightly miffed at loosing his Laslech. "Sorry boy, but she went to a great new home! Nothing evil will befall her if she is with Viv." Volricom snorted and stamped, still displeased. They rode together to the reception, and Ray managed to slip in unannounced. To his delight, he found both Marty and Val in conversations with elves. One he recognized as his future smithing instructor, professor Mahtaliel, and the other as AIWENDIS, chancellor's daughter. Seeing his friends in no need of him, he made way to slip back out. However, that was not to be. He litterally bumped into the Chancellor himself, who had risen to pour himself some more wine.

"Please excuse me, m'lord...My wits were elsewhere." Ray flushed a bit and bowed his head.

"You are pardoned," ILMENZOR took a second glance at Ray,"Ah, Master Raendil there you are. We didn't see you come in with the king. Dinner will be served soon, so you wont have to stand around much longer."

"Yes, I didnt come with the king, I chose to spend the afternoon with a new friend of mine, Lady Viniglaen. But it turned out that the king wished me to come anyways." Ray was pleased that he had managed to keep his annoyance out of his voice. But the chancellor's eyes twinkled with amusment.

"So you know Lady Viniglaen? I was hopping that she too would be present...she has a friend or two here that wish to see her, and it is her place, seeing as Professor Galadunnun is kin as well." Ray didn't need any mental prodding to come up with this idea.

"I will go and ask her to come, talking with her, i dont think she received an invitation. I will bring her as a guest then. If that is well, I shall be off?" He had to repress a smile. "Indeed, go speedily, you will have about twenty minutes or so." Raendil bowed, turned and left speedily, calling for a groom to fetch Volricom

At least I wont be lonely there, and I can show her the powerful people that I also know, and she likewise.

Together they raced along to Orrodel [yet again]. Knocking on the door, right as she came down. "Hey, where you going? I thought you'd be at the feast." She was still dressed lovely, and Ray grinned. "Yeah, about that, I was hoping you'd come with me. I bumped into the Chancellor, and he seemed most keen on your attending."

Raendil, you'd better watch your heart carefully around this woman...

[Rían]

"Gladly my Lady," replied Marty to Mahtaliel, and offered his arm with a gallant bow, which pleased the professor.

Walking towards the dining hall, Marty saw the Chancellor walking in a determined manner with a lovely elven lady on his arm, who seemed to be trying to include the elven lady walking behind them ... sure enough, that was the same RÃ*an, whom he had admired just the other day at Orrodel! A servant had quietly informed him that he would have Professor Mahtaliel seated on his right, and a Lady RÃ*an of Gondolin on his left, and he had wondered - how many elves could there be named RÃ*an in Tharbad, after all?! There must be something interesting going on here ...

He leaned over and murmured quietly to his companion, "Professor Mahtaliel, would you mind if I offered my other arm to that lady walking behind the Chancellor? The servants have informed me that she will be seated on my other side, and I hate to see a lady enter a dinner unattended."

The Professor answered, "Certainly you may. I am pleased to see our students so attentive to such courtesies."

They changed direction slightly to intercept RÃ*an, and Marty, catching her eye, said with a polite bow and a smile, "The servants informed me that I would have a Lady RÃ*an of Gondolin seated on my left at dinner. I am pleased to see that it is you! Would you give me the pleasure of taking my other arm?"

"I thank you, kind sir," she responded, taking his proferred arm. "A banquet always tastes better when flavored with fair words and friendship."

[Gordis]

In what seemed like an age, the guests slowly filed into the Dining Hall, ablaze with lanterns on the walls and candles on the table. Open flames always made Aiwendis uncomfortable, adding an additional strain on her already overstretched nerves.

Valandil led Aiwendis to the table, a gentle smile on his face and polite words on his lips. Aiwendis smiled back. He was a kind and handsome man, this tall heir of Kings, one of a few mortal relatives she had left after the Downfall. Her Captain hated all the Line of Andunie, but Aiwendis felt, deep in her heart, that the young King, who had hardly seen sixty summers, could not be blamed for the treason of his great-grandfather, Amandil. If treason it was. It was none other than her former Master who was responsible for all the kin-slaying in the Line of Elros. Ever He leaves hate and discord in his wake...

Aiwendis remembered Isildur on the slopes of Orodruin, hacking his way through the assembled ringwraiths; Elendil on his right, Gil-Galad and Elrond on his left and an army at his back. When one of the Morgul Lord's blows sent the King's winged helmet flying, Isildur's face was revealed, bloodied, fell and distorted with hate unfathomable.
Aiwendis looked at Valandil again. He was so like his father... Would he hate her, if he knew she were a ringwraith? Of course, he would, she was a fool even to question that.

If you have this Thing, you will become just like us one day, son of Isildur. I wonder, what you will feel then...

At last all the guests were standing behind their chairs at their assigned places. The Chancellor, standing on the left of the King, announced: "Let the feast begin!"

At this signal, Aiwendis approached the King, holding a magnificent silver goblet with spiced wine. The king, who had sat down, now rose again.

"Welcome to our house, Valandil, son of Isildur, King of the Dunedain," she said in Sindarin. 'Receive now this cup and drink in happy hour. Health be with thee at thy going and coming!' Her eyes shining, Aiwendis touched the rim of the goblet with her lips and offered it to the King, following an ancient custom of Atalante.

[Valandil]

Valandil stood to perform his proper office, holding the wonderful-smelling goblet before himself. Of course this duty was often handled by the host, but many times, as King, it had come to him as a courtesy. This night was stretching on rather long though, so he thought to keep it short.

"Good health and good cheer,
To those of this house and all gathered here."

Then he looked around the room and particularly at those prominent guests seated so near to him. Standing, he could just see Earniel over the Chancellor, and his eyes alighted on her last, he then returned them to Aiwendis in a nod of acknowledgement, but his eyes then drifted back past the chancellor to Earniel as he brought the goblet to his lips.

It was good-tasting, and after a small sip, he held the goblet aloft, then set it before the Chancellor and took his seat once more.

[Valandil]

As Valandil took his seat, his mind began to buzz and his head to whirl - and he laid his hands to his sides. Then he heard a voice in his head, sounding strained, but clear. "Caution... enemies about... enemies... known from... before...!"

It did not 'feel' like Oreturion... where was that coming from?

[Serenoli]

Jas Fernik was punctual... and forgetful. Or rather, he wished to be punctual always, but as his memory was worse than that of old Sir Bumbledore, he was invariably late. And of course, since he prized punctuality, this made him even more embarrassed every time he was late.

But today, he would be on time.. he would reach the Reception Hall before even the Chancellor. No way he would be late in front of the yong King. Three hours before the party would start, he was dressed and ready, in his little room in the University. And he waited and waited, staring at his wall-clock. But the time wouldn't pass.

So he picked up a book on miruvor, and its properties... written by himself, and his most prized possession . And I am afraid the dear old man fell asleep in the midst of a quite excellent passage dealing with the change in the taste of miruvor over time...

And as he slept, he leaned forward on his book, and the longer he slept the more he leaned, until finally, he toppled face forward onto the ground. That woke him up fine, and he made a mad dash to the main University building after a glance at the clock, and a single, agonized cry.

And how shall I describe the poor man's feelings as he walked, or rather crept into the Dining Hall, hoping very much no one would notice him come in? He felt like even the waiters were looking askance at him. And the King! Did not even turn in his direction! The King must think him altogether beneath his notice. But worst of all was the Chancellor. That man always gave Jas goosebumps, and when he turned his pale eyes towards him, even though it was only for a moment, he shivered. He had a feeling the Chancellor might ask him for an explanation next day, and he would feel just like a schoolboy up before his headmaster.

The only person glad to see him, (or the only one who really noticed him) was Bumbledore who hailed him, and Jas gladly slid into the seat beside him. Bumbledore began talking at once...

[Butterbeer]

"Evenin' Jas ...."

[Telcontar_Dunedain]

Khamûl followed the crowd into the Main Hall. Most other guest's were escorting or being escorted. The only person that was not was Rian and there was no way in Angband that Khamûl was going to escort her to dinner. Anyway, Khamûl didn't go in for relationship's much. He had never taken a wife in Rhûn, he never had as much as girlfriend. The only woman that had ever kissed Khamûl was his mother, and that was when he was five. Families were nothing but trouble for warriors. It was just something else for another army to have against you. He didn't need the hassle of having to resue an abducted family after battle. And now there was even less need. Mortal women would only be alive for a brief passing in Khamûl's life, and an elf would be to risky, imagine having their Caliquendi relatives over lunch. And the less said about Dwarven women the better.
Khamûl found his seat. On his right there was an empty space with the name Raendil and servent's were busy setting up another space on the right of him. On his left was standing Mahtaliel. That name was unknown to him, but all would be revealed shortly. Moments later it was. It was the elf who he had been engaged with him in a 'staring contest' earlier. Maybe they could 'talk'. Khamûl could get to know that real Mahtaliel, get inside her head. Opposite him was one of the sister's who had been attempting to woo Maethor. Next to her was Maethor who was sandwiched between the two sisters.
When all the guests were standing behind their chairs at their assigned places. The Chancellor, standing on the left of the King, announced: "Let the feast begin!"
Before every body sat down Aiwendis approached Valandil with a golden goblet when she said something in an elven language.
"Good health and good cheer,
To those of this house and all gathered here," said the King, who took a sip from the cup before placing it before the Chancellor.

[Earniel]

Eärniel had let herself be led to her seat by the Chancellor, quite an honour. But although he was courteous to a fault, there was something about him that made her on her guard. Yet she couldn't quite say why.

He had made her feel uneasy yesterday evening as well, when she had been under the impression it was being around so many people that put her on edge. But now that she felt exactly the same around him this evening she wasn't so sure anymore.

She recalled hearing Marty yesterday retelling the story of Ilmenzor's fortunes in the war, how he had been captured and tortured by the Úlairi. Eärniel knew few men survived those ordeals, none completely recovered. Could it be that which troubled her about him? Some lingering darkness, some remaining shadow from the terrible darkness that had touched him?

But the Chancellor seemed in good health, completely recovered from those dark days. There was a certain hardness about him, but nothing else that Eärniel could discover at first glance that supported her theory. In thruth the Chancellor was a mystery to her, but not one she was keen on solving either.

She then heard the Chancellor's daughter offer the King a cup in an old custom. Eärniel didn't look up although she could feel the King's gaze linger on her a little longer than necessary. A little more discretion on his part might not be unwelcome, she mused.

But her attention was diverted to Oreturion, the King's adviser, who had been seated between her and RÃ*an. The man suddenly seemed somewhat distressed for some reason, although he hid it well.

"My lord, "Eärniel whispered, "Are you well? You seem ill at ease."

[CrazySquirrel]

"Here is a needle, My Lady!" Zimra had to tap on the closed door of the master bedroom repeatedly, before Penny, walking on unsteady feet, managed to open the door.
"Ahh, fair little maid!" cried Penny enthusiastically, attempting to grab her around the waist. "Come, join us, me beauty!"
He was disheveled and reeked of wine, not to mention the fact that he was dressed in Lilly's best rose dressing-gown, now covered with oily smears and ink stains.
Zimra blushed furiously, thrust a needle in Penny's sleeve and flew downstairs, indigned. She was a true daughter of the Faithful, and a no-nonsense personality herself.

Hooting with laugher, Penny returned to the bed, and fell on it next to Lilly. His eyes riveted to the little wax doll, representing the former overlord of Rhun and Khand, the spear of terror in Sauron's hand, Khamul the Cruel and Terrible. Now the figure was finished and named, the link to Khamul strengthened by the spell, which Penny managed to fish from the mire of his wine-befuddled brain.

'My dear, did you really NEED to sculpt All these details?' gigled Penny, wiping tears with his long sleeve and leaving ink-smears across his face.

"Details are important!" answered Lilly, holding a long sewing needle in her shaking hand. 'It is in this very detail that I will stick my needle'.

Squinting, Lilly made several attempts to pierce the chosen place, but her aim was amiss. Finally, Lilly uttered a mighty curse and impaled the figure through the lower body.
Shaking with laugher, Penny and Lil rolled in the bed, swirling the impaled doll in circles at the end of the needle's thread.

[Grey_Wolf]

It was evening, and Falco was awaiting the arrival of the Mountain Wolves of GOP. Grey shadows slipped through the black night. Old Grey and White Patch, while the remaining pack held back waiting for a signal to come along, approached the spot where Falco was waiting.

[Willow Oran]

Mahtaliel watched Valandil drink from the goblet. She was surprised to see that he didn't drain it as was customary, but the boy had to be nervous seated as he was, sandwiched between the Chancellor and his daughter with all his advisors and friends seated farther down; his caution was understandable. Mahtaliel was glad she had decided to go through with her idea to revive an old custom of Eregion at the last minute.
She had hesitated, wondering if it was really appropriate, and there hadn't been time to inform the Chancellor before. She had only had time to deliver the gem she had chosen and her instructions to the steward in charge of bringing in the welcome goblet.
Choosing the gem had also taken a long while. The custom she wished to revive was the custom of placing a carefully chosen gem in the bottom of the goblet when welcoming a visiting lord. The gem could be anything, depnding on the wishes if the host towards the lord, each gem had it's own set of properties that could be beneficial or detrimental.
After hesitating over amethyst, deliberating about the garnet and pasing over the others she had finally settled on a finely cut piece of Topaz.
Hopefully it wouldn't need to be anything more than a pretty addition to the cup. Hopefully the steward had remebered to add it.

"Lady Mahtaliel." As though summoned by her thoughts the steward had appeared at her elbow, "I did as you asked, it was a fine thought, I'm sure the king will appreciate it should he ever reach the dregs."

Relieved she thanked him and took her seat. As she did she heard a choked off gasp from her right. She turned, the new professor, Galadanunn, she saw his name was, had one hand clutched to his abdomen, his face white. He seemed determined not to show any greater signs but as she was sitting next to him it was impossible for her not to notice that he was in pain.

"Are you well?" She inquired.

[Butterbeer]

professor Bumbledore cut short his words to Jas ... though a merry old soul and a king's man to boot ... he was a stickler for tradition ... the University had been (and still was of course) his life ...

standing up slowly with a chorus of creaks, his dressing gown billowing out around him dramatically (casting strange candlelit shadows on the wall behind him) he stood up hunched but proud ...

raising an arm he caught the assembled diners and dignataries attention ... a hush fell ... Aiwendis and the Arch-chancellor seemed to his sharp eye to peirce him with a sharp look, before slowly relaxing and smiling ... the king's man next to the elf also gave him a similar look before looking plain confused and worried ...

"Sire! ... Lord of the Dunedain, most welcome son of Isuldir, ...Arch-chancellor, my Lords and Ladies!, fellow proffessors all!" he began

before raising his glass for a wee sip and slurp ...

"may i toast you Sire and welcome you to the university of Tharbad! It is indeed a great honour to the university, to the arch-chancellor and to us all to have you among us ..."

raising a glass to salute the King all rose and toasted the king. While all were still standing, Sir bumbledore continued ...

"Sire, it is the tradition here at the new academic year official reception that the guest of honour down the goblet proffered in one drink, that it may lead to a fertile and fullsome year of study and that we may thus let the learning and love of learning go to our heads ... may i politely ask you King valandil to honour our small tradition!"

Sir bumbledore smiled beningly ... all eyes turned to the High king ... Aiwendis again stood up formally and offered the goblet to the High King ...

[Udukhaturz]

From his seat at the opposite end of the table, Udu watched as Khamûl clutched his stomach in agony. Udu was enjoying observing Khamûl's face turn white. "He looks just like a fish that has been dead a long time," Udu thought to himself, and laughed.

The doughty elf professor was looking towards Khamûl with an expression of surprise. Amused, Udu enjoyed watching her, too. The evening was becoming quite interesting. He considered the possibilities of what might happen next. Would all the guests and servants rush to Khamûl and offer him smelling salts? Would they make a great stir about him as he writhed there in agony? Udu stifled a laugh and hoped that Khamûl would slump face downward on the table. Udu would find amusement in seeing that, and it would keep Khamûl's attention off him for a while.

He sent this thought message to Khamûl, "How are you enjoying the festivities, old friend? Oh, sorry to see the look of distress upon your face. Must have been something you ate."

[Lotesse]

"Is that so?" replied Viniglaen, smiling very happily. "If the Chancellor's keen on seeing me there, and you are to be my date, then what on middle-earth are we waiting for?"

"What indeed, Vivvie my lady," said Ray, as he extended his arm for her to take. "Shall we?"

They decided to walk to the dinner, as it was less than a five minute walk away from the Mansion. Viniglaen had chosen to wear what she was already wearing; she despised dressing up in dresses all the time. Not that she despised dresses - au contraire, but they were already running late, and she looked so elegant and sharp in her dark-grey cashmere Elven-style form fitting top, trimmed with tiny diamonds around the neckline and the long, bell-like sleeve hems. Her thick, wavy shortish hair was fastened at the side with one of her trademark tanzanite, amethyst and mithril barrettes, and her dark-grey perfectly tailored riding breeches accentuated her strong, small legs and heart-shaped bottom. The highly polished jet black riding boots finished the whole ensemble perfectly. At least, Raendil certainly thought so.

Viv and Ray were ushered in gracefully by one of the liveried butlers, who showed them to their seats at the dinner table. As Viv made herself comfortable next to Khamul, she glanced quickly at his face, and saw that Lil and Pen must have finally gotten their little spell right.

"Good evening to you, my cousin," she said for the surrounding guests to see and hear. Then, bending in right next to him, quite close, she whispered to Khamul so low that only a bat could have understood what was said.

"I tried to get here as soon as I could, to let you know what they were up to," she said to him. "It's just a weak gastrointestinal spell; perhaps now that you know you can counter it off. I am sorry you feel pain, my lord."

"It's not your fault, Vivvie, and I thank you for your cocern, little one,"answered Khamul.

"I beg you, my lord, please do not punish them again. Please, my lord. Can you just talk to them, perhaps tomorrow, you know - give them a good 'talking to?' "

"I'll take care of my business my way, Viniglaen, but your words are duly noted," Khamul said brusquely, yet not with unkindness. His stomach pain had indeed been merely trifling, and had dissipated almost as soon as Viv told him from whencve it had come.

Speaking normally now, Professor Galadannun laughed off his painful little episode, and answered Mahtaliel.

"Yes, yes, I am fine," he said, "I fear I sometimes get a bit of indigestion from all the rich drink at such resplendent functions!" He chuckled a little, as if enjoying a private joke, and took a sip of his water.

Udu, who had been eyeballing Khamul and Viv's inaudible tete-a-tete, smiled inwardly. He could not acknowledge Viv publically; they were never supposed to have known each other at all as far as the public was supposed to know, but he and little Vivvie went back, far back. It was Udu who had taught Viniglaen how to be a deadly fighter, how to wield a sword, and how to make her petite stature and natural strength and quickness work to a great advantage in instances of potential one-on-one combat. He had taught her well; she was a deadly Nazgul indeed.

[Willow Oran]

Mahtaliel raised an eyebrow, radiating skepticism.

"Indigestion? From wine?" She had never heard of wine causing indidestion, other problems yes, but not that.

Galadanunn paused, glaring, "Obviously."

[Rían]

(earlier that day...)

Tyaron and Alagos watched RÃ*an caress the grey mare. Tyaron put a warning hand on Alagos' shoulder. "Wait!", he mouthed, as the wind in the treetops played around both of them, trying to shake the leaves loudly enough to get RÃ*an to look up. He looked meaningfully down the road, where they could see another rider approaching. By the looks of it, an elven lady - perhaps a friend of RÃ*an's?

Waiting was not something either one of them normally liked, but they had learned the benefits of waiting in a hard school. And they were elves, and had all the time in Arda, now that they had found her.

Tyaron smiled softly, put a kiss in the wind, and blew it towards RÃ*an. "Aiwen..." he whispered, and this time it was Alagos who had to put out the restraining hand.

[Valandil]

Valandil stood once more, and despite some voice (was it an inner voice?) protesting, "Don't do it!" - he raised the goblet and addressed the crowd.

"I see that I have acted amiss, but please let me explain, my good hosts and all ye worthy guests. In our harsher lands to the north, it is the custom to share the cup around, to signify that we share all that we have one with another. Yet I see that here, all such provision is bountiful, and would certainly not cause offense."

"What say you then, people of Tharbad? Shall I keep to my custom this day, or shall I yield myself to the custom of the fair south?"

"Yield... YIELD!" shouted some, and others, "Quaff it all... quaff it ALL!! Drain it!" Everyone's good-natured response showed him that his transgression had been forgiven. He looked next to the Chancellor, who met his gaze, then turned to Aiwendis, who gave a subtle, yet significant gesture toward the goblet, with a nod... and the change in her face from nearly a pout to a grateful smile while he lifted the cup to his mouth again, this time drinking it to the last drop (and this time looking straight ahead - for he had noted many glances back-and-forth between himself and Earniel), assured the King that he had now done rightly.

What was this at the bottom though? How odd... a gem? Was this another odd custom of the south? He managed to secretly slip it into his mouth as he finished, then out again and into his pocket as he appeared to wipe his mouth, once he had created the humorous distraction of slamming the goblet down to the table. There... if it was their custom, it would be missed and inquired about - and he could have his little joke. If it was not their custom... well, then he would find out what it really meant.

Seated once more, he began to feel dizzy again - and quite warm. He wondered what was IN that cup.

[Telcontar_Dunedain]

Khamûl clutched his stomach in pain. One minute he had been fine then the next he felt as if he had just had a sharp dagger pushed into his abdomen.
"Are you well?" asked the elven Professer.
Khamûl held back the sarcastic insults. Of course he wasn't fine, did he look fine?
Out of the corner of his eye Khamûl noticed Udu staring, smiling at him.
'Of course, Udu,' thought Khamûl. This was a spell of the East, only Khamûl, Udu and Penny knew this spell. And Penny wouldn't do this surely. Even after his attack on Khamûl earlier on, he would never do such a thing. He was never a warrior, or one to cause pain. Even on the slope's of Orodruin he was more content to be healing hurt comrades or devising an escape plan. It must have been Udu, somehow. Maybe he had a servant deliver him the blow, but Udu had perpared it.
"How are you enjoying the festivities, old friend? Oh, sorry to see the look of distress upon your face. Must have been something you ate." said a faint voice in his head. It had no sound to it, something was blocking it. Khamûl looked to the Chancellor, who's gaze was fixed on Khamûl. He wasn't blinking and seemed oblivious to all else around him. A mind shield, impenetrable to all others. Even as this thought passed through Khamûl's mind he felt a strong presence trying to break through, to read his thought's. It was the same presence he had felt in Marthalion earlier that evening.
At that moment Khamûl saw two figures entering the room. It was Raendil and Viniglaen.
"I tried to get here as soon as I could, to let you know what they were up to," Viniglaen said Khamûl quietly. "It's just a weak gastrointestinal spell; perhaps now that you know you can counter it off. I am sorry you feel pain, my lord."
"You say you're sorry yet you have done nothing to prevent this from happening," said Khamûl in agony.
"I beg you, my lord, please do not punish them again. Please, my lord. Can you just talk to them, perhaps tomorrow, you know - give them a good 'talking to?' " replied Viv.
"I have already warned Lilaewen about this kind of behaviour. This time her fate is no longer in my hands. This time the Morgul Lord will decide he fate, and when unhapppy he is not a very nice Man to be around," answered Khamûl shortly the pain in his stomach easing up as he managed to straighten up and turn to Mahtaliel.
"Yes, yes, I am fine," he said, "I fear I sometimes get a bit of indigestion from all the rich drink at such resplendent functions!"

[Valandil]

As Valandil sat, wondering when the room would stop tilting, Aiwendis leaned over toward him and whispered softly, "You adjust well to other customs, my King."

Valandil turned slightly toward her and as he shifted himself, Aiwendis, who had been wondering about the efficacy of the drink she had given him, opened her eyes wide with wonder as she suddenly found the evidence of her craft thrust hard upon the side of her hip. 'My-oh-my... impressive! How potent!' she thought.

As he drolled on some boring thing about the necessity of adapting to the subjects from all about his realm, she stole a glance downward and blushed slightly, 'How could I be so silly?' she thought, 'it was just his sword!' and sure enough, the end of his sword handle had pressed against her when the King turned. She returned her eyes to his, nodding and smiling in reply. Yet she shifted slightly back at the thought of that particular sword... for the sight of it returned her mind once more to the terrible battle she had just been thinking of... of the blows it had made in return to the Morgul Lord's atop Mount Orodruin... in the hands of the King's father.

[Valandil]

Valandil's head was still slightly awhir. He noticed as he was speaking with Lady Aiwendis, that she had looked down to where his sword handle had lodged itself up against her side. He apologized and shifted himself once more to readjust it. As he gripped the handle to do so, a voice spoke to his mind, "You have returned to me. I feel the blood of Isildur within you."

Valandil tried to contain his surprise. The thing had a mind of its own! His sword... the one strapped to his belt!

[Gordis]

As the King put the almost full goblet in front of the Chancellor, Ilmenzor's brows arced slightly. Was the King so rustic as to be unaware of the old custom of Numenor? "What am I supposed to do now?" thought the Morgul Lord. "I can hardly pass the goblet around, as barbarians do, if I don't wish half of Tharbad chasing after Gordie. That would be a funny joke, no doubt, but a waste of a good potion". He turned to explain to the King the error of his ways, when a chorus of creaks was heard coming from the far end of the table. It was the elderly Bumbledore, professor of Commerce, dressed in an old moth-bitten dressing gown, who desired to speak. Glancing at his unguarded thoughts, the Chancellor smiled, and felt Aiwendis on the other side of the King relax as well. "You prove most useful to me, old Man", thought the Chancellor, as the other spoke is his strident elderly voice, "you will keep your Chair as long as you live."

Finally, the goblet was offered again, and the Morgul Lord watched with more than his eyes as the King took the wine and finished it in one swallow. At the end there was something... some feeling, ...maybe surprise? Valandil slammed the goblet on the table, and Ilmenzor saw that it was, indeed, empty. After that, the King slumped in his chair, clearly feeling some dizziness and unnatural warmth, the inevitable side effects of the potion. The potion Number Nine was meant to cause a strong, romantic, all-consuming True Love, but its first effects were somewhat unpredictable, alike to those of a strong aphrodisiac. "He will feel the full effect in a couple of hours, not earlier, I hope, it would be awkward if he started pawing Gordie at the reception".

Right at that moment, a hot wave of embarrassment, coming from Aiwendis, washed over the Chancellor. "The potion is stronger than I thought," mused the Morgul Lord, "he can't control his hands, or other parts, anymore".

With a charming smile, the Arch-Chancellor turned to the Elf on his right and said in impeccable Sindarin,
"My Lady, tales and songs of your realm and its Lady, both Wise and Fair, reach the mortal lands, but few can tell what is true and what is false, for you do not willingly have dealings with any other folk. Nin-in-Eilph must be a wondrous place, indeed, as deep is the love of Elves for their land. I long to know more about your country."

As the Elf started telling him about her land, the Chancellor gradually removed the thick cocoon that shielded her other neighbor, Oreturion. Then, Ilmenzor's eyes scanned the Hall and quickly riveted to Khamul. The Easterling was obviously in great pain. The Chancellor felt the unmistakable whiff of Black Sorcery in the air. Putting the protective shield over Khamul, the Chancellor started looking for the spell's source, still smiling and nodding politely to the Elf at his side.

[Earniel]

Eärniel was beginning to come to a conclusion about this sort of human, high-society events: they were utterly and utterly confusing. First the King's adviser that was seated to her right seemingly became distressed about something but when she asked him about it he had shaken his head to indicate he was alright. Although Eärniel perceived something was still bothering him. Then professor Galadannûn experienced some strange discomfort, which was abated now.

On top of that it was as if several people around her were preforming magic, or what humans referred to as magic in any case. It struck her as strange to perceive these things on a human reception. She didn't think the race of Men possessed those skills to that degree, or at least they had not when she had last walked among them.

Then the Chancellor suddenly inquired her about Nîn-In-Eilph, as if he wanted to divert her attention of these strange occurences. His smile was somewhat disturbing. Eärniel was not a suspicious person, but she started really to have enough of this reception and its out-of-place events.

She told the Chancellor about Nîn-In-Eilph but not freely. She spoke of the Elven dwellings but not of where and how many. She spoke of the Reed-Elves but only of why they chose to keep to themselves. But she spoke mostly of the marches and their beauty, and why the Reed-Elves had chosen to dwell there. Mostly that was because nobody else was the least interested in the humid and unwelcome swamps as dwelling place; but also because they had water there, in which Elves delight almost as much as star light. (And in the swamps the water didn't have that unfortunate habit of the sea to devour whole continents and redesign shore lines, but Eärniel was wise enough not to bring up that issue to the Numenorean Chancellor.)

Suffice to say she dispelled much of the myths that surrounded Nîn-In-Eilph, which was also her intent. The less people roaming in her swamps looking for some magical Elven castle, the better she liked it.

[Rían]

RÃ*an sat quietly at the corner of the table, sipping her wine and looking around with interest at the varied group seated there. Oreturion, to her left, gave her a very polite greeting, but was clearly distracted by concern for his king and soon turned away from her. Eärniel apparently noticed this, too - RÃ*an could hear Eärniel's quiet inquiry as to his well-being.

On her right, Marty had also been polite and attentive, but was currently tied up in conversation with Professor Mahtaliel, who had started to open up and even be animated as she conversed with her soon-to-be pupil. "Ah, a true teacher, and she certainly loves her subject!" thought RÃ*an, and wondered if she should perhaps try to register for some classes at the University. Given Professor Galadanunn's rage at seeing her there, she imagined she'd had plenty of time! she doubted if she'd be at Orrodel any more - but then again, she didn't know if she wanted to be there, either.

The conversation between Marty and Prof. Mahtaliel was suddenly cut short - apparently Prof. Galadanunn was in some distress, and Mahtaliel was inquiring after his health. "Hmm, first Oreturion, then Galadannun - maybe there's something in the wine!" she thought, and eyed her glass with suspicion.

She then noticed Ray and Viv enter the room and take their seats. Remembering Viv and Lilly, who were very happy to have arrangements so quietly and efficiently taken care of, made her wonder if their wishes would override those of their haughty brother/cousin. "Well, I'll just wait and see what happens," she thought to herself. "It might be fun to stay on, just to irritate Galaddanun!"

A general quieting of the conversations alerted her to a formal announcement. She watched as Aiwendis made a graceful speech and then handed the King a glass of wine, and hoped that his wine was not going to lead to any painful side-effects.

[Willow Oran]

Rebuffed by Galadanunn's reply Mahtaliel turned back to Marty and Lady Rian. Mahtaliel hadn't been aware of any other elves in the city proper and while determined to be welcoming, she was a little wary of the Ladies Earniel and Rian, there was no telling how they'd react to the presence of a former kinslayer...
Still, it was good to be around other elves, Mahtaliel had come to appreciate, and even to enjoy being around mortals, it was surprising to discover just how much she had missed her own people. Even if they hadn't missed her much.
Curious she leaned forward to talk to Rian, "Lady Rian, are you planning on taking courses here?"

[Rían]

"Well, Professor Mahtaliel," replied RÃ*an, "I wasn't planning on taking any classes this term, but after hearing you talk on your subject with such passion and knowledge, I'm tempted to see if I might be able to still sign up for your class! Perhaps, if you would be so kind, you could ask the Chancellor if he would allow this. I don't know him, and I imagine the request would be looked upon with more favor if it came from you instead of from me."

[Gordis]

Soon the celebration and feast began in earnest. Miriel and Malaphel sat alongside their new friend Maethor, thoroughly enjoying themselves. The King has made a blunder not to drink the Welcome Cup to dregs. The girls giggled, it was a distinct slight to Aiwendis, who must have also seen it in this light, as she seemed distressed. Clearly King Val needed a well educated wife to make him learn the ancient customs.
The servants brought platters of pies and fish, meat and vegetables, fruit and salads. Many of the feast's dishes were exotic; there were some strange vegetables and hot spices. Clearly, Lord Ilmenzor has spent too much time in the east, travelling among savages. He also needed a good wife sorely. But all was well: there were two of them. Each one was eager to leave the Chancellor to her sister, provided that she herself will become a Queen.

The girls noted that the King ate and drank little, no doubt because he didn’t like exotic food. Aiwendis was no good in keeping the household in order.

However, MM’s mood soon turned sour, as they watched Aiwendis and the King whispering quietly together, Aiwendis somewhat blushed, while the impudent she-Elf in a funny First Age hair net was flirting with the Chancellor, animatedly telling him some story, while he smiled at her tenderly.

Soon, following the Governor, the prominent citizens of Tharbad and Professors of the University raised their goblets to offer their blessings to the King and the Chancellor. The entertainment that followed was colourful and varied: dancers, a few singers, and handful of musicians. Soon the dances started, and MM’s thoroughly annoyed by now, looked at Maethor expectantly.

[Telcontar_Dunedain]

Khamûl sat as he watched the fat Governer and his wife dancing to the music. He was still in slight pain. Physically he was not yet recovered, but mentally he had regained his normal poise with incredible speed. The food had been good. The menu's were obviously influenced by the time the Morgul Lord spent in Khamûl's house before he had become the Chancellor.
Khamûl looked across the table where he saw Udu being flirted with by Malaphel and Miriel, the Governer's daughters. He was having a brilliant time, or so that was how it looked. He was laughing and drinking, yet there seemed a slight difference to his attitude earlier. He seemed more wary. Maybe he thought that Khamûl would retaliate, unaware the attack wasn't carried out by Maethor and that he had no part of it. For a momentMaethor caught Khamûl's eye's. That was all the Shadow of the East needed. Suddenly Maethor's gaze was fixed. He was not in a trance, but his eye's could not break contact with Khamûl's.
'I expect you found your little episode funny? Well if that is all you to offer then you are weaker than I thought. I trust you know of the pain I caused Lilawen earlier. That and more can be arranged for other's who do not please. Now if you have any sense you will not do that again. Khamûl said mentally. Not for your sake, but for your familes. he added evilly before breaking eye contact.
Khamûl then stood up and turned to Viv.
"A word if you will Viniglaen," he said leaving Viv little choice but to walk with Khamûl out of earshot of Raendil who was glancing towards them.
"Now tell me what you know about what just happened?" he said quickly.

[Butterbeer]

Proffessor Bumbledore had sat down rather clumsily with a great Whump!

As if reading his mind Jas had selected a rather unique wine she had ordered brought to the table and filled his goblet.

"Ahhh! Thank-you Jas!" taking the goblet and swirling it gently Bumbledore gave the wine it's due honour ... knowing that proffesor Jas fernick the Wine appreciation guru had surely selected a rare vintage for him, he examined it's nose ...

taking a reverential sip and letting it caress all of his tongue he closed his eye and smiling introvertedly felt the love that some wines can bring flow upon him ....

"mmm, ahhh, delicate .... maybe a clay soil, south facing?" he was temporizing and Proffesor jas knew it, but smiled at his friend indulgently all the same.

"cheeky, yet crisp ..." old Bumble popped his eye open with a sparkling yet amused look at Jas ... was he on the right track?

Jas put on his poker face ... he would surely give old bumble a cryptic clue sometime soon ... (he hoped!)

Though he had known jas to enjoy prolonging the game throughout a whole night ... often dropping hints and also outrageous red herrings ... tonight was to be no exception ... as the feast swung on with many exotic dishes ... and good tharbadian fare ... AH! PIES! thought Bumbledore ... now that would be fun later!

To honour the King there were performers and entertainment the like of which he had not seen since TA 12' when for one mad glorious year the previously dour arch-chancellor, old Arturion, had banged his head playing Rochdol and had gone quite blissfully mad ... it was from this time that university had acquired it's unofficial title as the party university of Middle earth! it was also the year that some of the more obscure university traditions had dated from ... including the annual pie throwing contest where all new proffesors took their turn trying to outdo each other hurling pies at the chef ... the winner would have the honoured title of Pie-proffesor that year and win a case of the University cellar's finest wines.

Tonight there were jugglers - bah! thought bumble: call those knives? there were minstrels and players, illusionists and dancers, fire-breathing southerners and even an eastern snake charmer!

What had really caught both his and jas's (and he noticed the new proffesor's sitting 2 seats away, and drinking wine like he had been at the uni all his life) rapt attention had been the dark dusky and highly exotic eastern dancing troupe who had belly-danced so provocatively, hips swaying and busoms bouncing ... the most beautiful lead dancer had cavorted spectacularly whirling a spell-binding heart-racing dance directly in front of the King - who it had appeared had almost been spell-bound, though he had remained dignified throughout ...

As the feast progressed and the fine food and wine's warmed many a heart, bumble's mood was light ... Jas was still playing his game and offering both hints and hurdles in his attempt to guess this rare vintage.

Both Bumbleore and Jas Fernick had noticed with appreciation how the new proffesor seated between the Governor's pretty daughters had matched them goblet for goblet during the feast ... no mean achievement .. they were both impressed and had discussed seeking him out later as the evening swung to aclose when the dancing got under way and before the traditional pie-throwing finale!

[Willow Oran]

Mahtaliel had readily agreed to speak to the Chancellor on Rian's behalf, though she had warned the girl that she and the Chancellor were not on the best of of terms. Rian had pointed out that Mahtaliel still had more influence and what could it hurt?

That concluded they had applied themselves to the meal. Mahtaliel had been pleased to find that there was a wide variety of foreign dishes as well as the more usual feasting fare. A long life that had included much traveling had given her a taste for new and interesting foods. It was a taste she didn't often get to indulge.

Now, though, she desired the company of her fellow professors. Spotting Bumbledore and Jas chatting nd drinking on the far side of the table she stood and glided around to join them.

"Drowning yourselves in wine my friends?' She asked lightly, grabbing an abandoned chair, "At this rate you'll be too drunk to see the festivities later on."

[Udukhaturz]

Udu’s amusement at Khamûl’s distress did not last long, for the Second had quickly recovered. Udu had been optimistic when he had first seen Khamûl doubled over in agony, clutching his stomach. “Relax your control,� he thought to himself, “and let me see what lies in that dark mind of yours, Shadow of the East.�

The polite chatter at the table was a muffled din with only a clink or clatter of dishes now and then to break the drone. Udu noted that the King was certainly acting strange. Did the son of Isildur have something to do with Khamûl’s presence here, he wondered at the intriguing thought.

Aiwendis seemed very interested in the King. Udu mused upon that. There were many things to ponder, and many secrets to be unraveled. What were the motives of the presence of the Chancellor, Aiwendis and Khamûl? Udu thought on all these things in the guarded fortresses of his mind.

Then he knew! It must be something about the Treasure! But what? The King, who seemed to be an addled sort, would bear watching.

He caught a glimpse of Viniglaen and her escort, but betrayed no recognition and scarcely looked at them. “My old student,� he thought, “and very skilled with the blade. We must talk sometime.� But he did not direct the thought towards her. There were too many thoughts flying in the room, and who knew what mind was receiving and which one was sending?

He wished that Khamûl had suffered a while longer, but that was not to be. Udu was becoming aware that hostile thoughts were being directed towards him. “Who is it,� he wondered. “Who else but Khamûl! What can he be planning?

Then he made the mistake of looking at Khamûl, and he was caught in the force of his power. Transfixed, he sat there, looking at him. Khamûl was hostile as he always had been towards Udu, but now he was accusatory, and worst of all, threatening.

“[i]Not for your sake, but for your families[/b],� he had said.

At last Khamûl withdrew that cold will and walked away with Viniglaen. Udu’s thoughts flashed in fury and his left hand went down to the hilt of his sword. “Khamûl, you would not be so low as to dare that! Coward!� he hissed to himself. “You would not ever face my blade if it were not for your Ring. Curse you and curse you again! There will be an accounting!�

He was sure that no one had noticed the look of displeasure that had been on his face. If they did, he would say that he was concerned that he might be experiencing an old flare-up of the disease which he had caught in the East.

The extravagant professor down the table past Malaphel was not noticing him, for he was in a discussion with the new professor of wine tasting. Miriel to his right seemed giddy, probably too much wine, he thought. If she had anything worthwhile in her mind, this might soon be the time to try to delve it. Both Miriel and her sister had been disappointments and had proved of little value in disclosing information.

The rest of the meal had passed uneventfully, and Udu had eaten little but drunk much. He had, by now, lost track of the number of goblets which he had emptied. He decided against intoning a spell of sobriety before he drank any more. He might need to be a little drunk.

The entertainers had finished their juggling and fire swallowing. Then this thought came at him simultaneously from both their minds: “They expect me to dance with them?� he thought. Perhaps he needed another drink.

Then he pushed back his chair and rose to his feet. He bent over and looked first to the elder sister, the blonde in the too-bright orange gown. “Will you do me the honor to have this first dance with me?�

Then he looked to the sister, the plump brunette in green. “My feelings would be hurt if you did not grant me the second dance.�

[Serenoli]

Jas had quite forgotten that he was embarrassed at being late. In fact, the funny new dishes (some of which were so hot they left him gasping for water), the jugglers, clowns and a whole troop of extremely lovely ladies belly dancing in his face had driven quite a lot of things from his mind.

Such as the name of the wine he had given Bumbledore. Try as he might, he could not remember which one he had brought with him that night.In fact, as Bumbledore sipped the wine, trying hard to guess it, he himself was engaged in a similar occupation... trying to guess which one it was! He had a feeling that the effect of the spicy food on his palate was delaying him from identifying it… but meanwhile, he enjoyed the sight of old Bumble throwing out wild guesses… and giving him the occasional hint. He himself had no idea as of yet, but he didn’t worry. As long as he kept a solemn face and used many difficult-sounding words, he was sure he could get away with it for that night, at least.

“Cheeky and crisp? I don’t know, Bumble… I think you’re missing a certain flavour yet… try using the aroma as a guide…�, he said mysteriously. And of course, this caused Bumbledore to sniff it wildly for a time- until he gave it up as a bad job, and reverted back to drinking.

Later on, their colleague the elven jewel-lover, Mahtaliel, came over.

"Drowning yourselves in wine my friends?' She asked lightly, grabbing an abandoned chair, "At this rate you'll be too drunk to see the festivities later on."

His stomach gave a frightful lurch. This happens everytime Mahtaliel talks to him. Sometimes, she also leaves his heart beating madly, and his breath all gone. It started actually the first time he saw her, and hadn’t stopped yet. He had confided to old Bumble about this, and Bumble had laughed long and hard, and informed him he was in love with the elf. He supposed Bumble could be right… he did think that she was the most lovely creature he’d ever known… of course, he never told her that. In fact, he hardly ever spoke to her. He usually managed a strangled ‘Good evening’, but I’m afraid even that sounded like a ‘Gah!’ most of the time. Today, he was more audible though, but he could not go as far as answering her question… he left all that to Bumbledore, and contented himself with pouring her a goblet of his wine. She had joined their guessing game before and she was actually quite good. Maybe she would know what the vintage was…

[Willow Oran]

Mahtaliel accepted the wine and sipped at it appreciatively. Jas had really brought out the best this night. This tasted like one of his closely guarded Numenorean vintages, brought over on the ships of the faithful and sought after by wine collectors like Jas.
Not that either Jas or Bumble appeared sober enough to recognize it as such. She'd remind them eventually, there was no need to put an end to their guessing quite yet...

[Valandil]

Although he felt like he might soon be glad to have a good meal like they have in Annuminas, Valandil was starting to take to the southern cooking here in Tharbad. And - perhaps because he had mostly had more simple fare since his arrival, the varied and exquisite dainties which came to the table, along with some of the more standard fare, were exciting and interesting to try. Some of the food, he learned from Aiwendis, was not Tharbadian at all - but was like what folks ate in Umbar, Khand and Harad - all far to the south or east.

Sure - there were some meat and fowl laid out roasted and plain - or lightly spiced (he wondered if he had his old friend Elmirphud to thank for any of those latter... the man always had a taste for bird-flesh, but was never that successful in acquiring it) - there was also a meat pie. And sure there were cheeses - but some had other things mixed in - small pieces of vegetables or something - some bitter, or sour, or hot to the taste - but a pleasant combination with the cheese. There were breads of rye and wheat such as he was used to - but also flat breads. There was an abundance of butter and honey to flavor the bread - and there was plenty of fresh fruit. The cooks sent forth some creations which pleasantly mixed vegetables with meat and spices - without having just dumped them in water to make a stew of them.

He spoke much with Aiwendis as he ate, although he felt a little awkward doing so while the dancers performed before them - wearing far less than his mother would have approved of in their own palace. He tried to pretend it was nothing unusual though, and they talked of things near and of things far away. At times the Chancellor would join in with their conversation for a few moments, but he otherwise left them to themselves - and Aiwendis rarely seemed to turn and speak with Estelmo, who was on her left.

Valandil wondered about this fascinating sword of his father's. Of course Valandil had worn it - and held it - before this night. But never had it revealed a presence of anything more than metal and great craftsmanship. Great INDEED was the craftsmanship which had made it, he thought - but time enough to investigate that more fully when this evening was past. When he could do so in private.

As the evening wore on, Valandil joined in the dancing himself - when the dancing girls were led away and the other guests of the reception we enjoined to take part. Aiwendis favored him with the first dance, and he had a few dances with other young noble women who were present - managing thus far to elude those two (one in orange, one in green) who had pursued him earlier. At a break in the music, he saw them nearby once more, working themselves in his general direction. He turned the other way - and saw before him Earniel - who seemed distracted, and her friend - what was the name... Rian? - who happened to be looking his way.

[CrazySquirrel]

By ten o'clock in the evening, Penny and Lilly drained three more bottles of Nurn and were cavorting in bed playing with the wax doll. Lilly amused herself by drowning Khamul's figure in a cup of wine and fishing it back again by its thread. Hiccupping, Penny argued that that could do Khamul no harm, as he didn't really need to breath. Finally Lilly declared that she was hungry. Indeed, the poor thing has eaten nothing since early morning. Caring as ever, Penny volunteered to go to the kitchen and to bring the supper upstairs.

'Take the doll, Five,' giggled Lilly 'and burn it in the stove. Nobody will suspect us then'.

Penny found the idea excellent. He took the doll by its thread, and donned Lilly's much abused pink peignoir again, inside out this time. Swaying drunkenly, Penny tried to fasten at least some buttons, but failed in the task. He elegantly draped the right side of the garment over his left shoulder, as if it were a cloak, and started on bare feet down the stairs. The staircase tilted and danced before his eyes. Penny stopped for a moment, trying to fish the much needed sobering spell out of his memory. The said memory proved to be a stagnant mire, letting nothing out. Penny shrugged his shoulders, defeated, which dislodged the pink cloak quite a bit.

Melwen, the kitchen maid, was finishing her daily chores. She was late, but no one was there to help her. All the servants, including the housekeeper, vanished as if by magic. Zimra, her second cousin, promoted this morning to the position of Lady's maid, rushed past her two hours ago, all blushed and spluttering as a boiling kettle. She didn't even bother to stop to answer Melwen's questions.

The girl lifted the tray of unbaked scones, prepared for tomorrow, and bent to put them on a small table near the still warm stove, to let the dough rise. At this moment, a small object flew past her and landed on the coals. A drunken laughter erupted behind her back.

Turning, Melwen saw a pair of bare hairy legs, and, lifting her face, beheld young master Pengolod, completely drunk and scarcely draped in some bright cloth. Melwen recoiled in apprehension.

Squinting his eyes, Penny tried to focus on the maid, but that proved difficult. He saw two plump and rosy creatures, smelling attractively of human blood and fear. Not really caring about their numbers, Penny stepped forward, arms outstretched.

"Come here, me pussies," he taunted.

Frightened, Melwen started to back away from him, but found herself in a corner between the stove and the wall. Penny made another determined step forward. Desperately, the girl reached behind her, searching for a weapon. Her hand gripped the handle of a frying-pan. Penny suddenly staggered, almost loosing his balance. Melwen rushed past him, but was not fast enough. Surprisingly strong hands grabbed her around the waist. With a frightened scream, Melwen swung the pan, solidly connecting with Penny's temple.

Two figures collapsed to the floor.

Sudden pain made Melwen start, and she dropped the pan and clutched her right arm, which suddenly felt icy cold. “No, no!� she whimpered, watching in horror as the frying-pan blazed with fire, then withered and disappeared. Suddenly it seemed that the familiar kitchen faded. Melwen gasped, but she could not move. Her body quaked with a deadly cold, her breath came in shallow gasps, her vision blurred and she knew no more.

Some minutes later, Penny sat up and made an inarticulate sound as if trying to speak. He shook his head and tried again. “What... what did I want in the kitchen? Ahhh.. yes, food for Lilly.�

Taking the tray with the scones with him, he began the long ascent to the first floor.

[Butterbeer]

Constable BB was exceptionally drunk ... he staggered out of the 'Singing Swan' to a roudy tavern chorus of "Evenin' all!" with a big broad smile on his face ... walking leerily home he decided that since the Guv was away just now and that there would be no one in the Watch currently available to miss him, as Sir Elmur Phudd was away hunting for a day or two ... possibly longer since he'd sworn he'd bring back a mighty kill - that could take many, many days, mused the constable with a chuckle ... so he'd take the morning off ... after all, he thought, looking at the beguiling two moons spinning luminously in the night air, all was well: and that's how he liked it!

As the bell tower tolled eerily and dully in the thick grey swirling fog entombing the City as the last dull echoes of the tenth peal ended the City Crier called out "All's Well!"

Ahhh! that'd be reet' then, thought the constable, beginning a bawdy whistling tune ... he staggered off towards his warm bed and young wife.

[Gordis]

Between the dances, Aiwendis had time to return back to her seat to have a conversation with the elderly gentleman on her left, Estelmo. She felt she hadn't paid him enough attention during the meal. He proved to be a fine person, nice and gentle, though Aiwendis knew for certain that the old warrior would die defending his King, if he as much as suspected some danger coming from the serene young lady before him.

"We were old friends, your father and I, or rather your Grandfather, Lord Veantur, and I.", said Estelmo. "He was a great man, Captain of the Moon Tower. We all grieved for his loss". Then, looking at Lord Ilmenzor, now dancing with Lady Earniel, he continued. "Pity your father has no time for me today. Perhaps we could meet sometime later, I would be happy to hear what befell him since we last met".

"It pains my father to tell his story", replied Aiwendis sadly. "A great darkness has touched him, leaving pain and grief in its wake. And hardly had he recovered his full health, when another blow smote him. I believe, you heard about my mother, Lady Isilien, and her fate."

"Yes, fair Lady, replied Estelmo gravely, bowing his head. "Dark tales of her tragic demise reached us in the North. Please, accept my condolences".

Aiwendis felt tears coming to her eyes. She had been so happy as Lady Isilien, that now she felt as if she herself died that fiery night. Estelmo bent to her and patted her shoulder gently. "Forgive an old man for distressing you, my dear Lady, I was a fool even to start this talk. Forget it, and go dance with fine young men yonder. I would have invited you for a dance myself, but for my lame leg. Go, my dear."

Aiwendis went around the table heading to the dancing floor. She noticed Khamul has shrunk in his chair again, his jaw clenched in agony and eyes wild. She thught of approaching the Easterling, but decided against it. It was plain dangerous.

Maethor has just finished his dance with Miriel, while Malaphel waited impatiently. There were far too many young girls at the reception. Udu had clearly drunk much, but was quite steady on his feet, as usual. Seeing approaching Aiwendis, Maethor apologized to Malaphel, and bowed before Aiwendis. Smiling, Aiwendis took his arm. She needed to talk to him very much.

"Have you seen what has happened to Khamul?" she asked in thought. "Do you know who did it?"

Udu smiled derisively. "I know I had nothing to do with it, though the Easterling seems to think otherwise. Whoever it was, I would raise my goblet to him, as that mongrel dog Khamul got what he long deserved."

Aiwendis seemed troubled by Usu's words, as she turned her head slightly and stole an apprehensive glance at the Easterling.
"It is Lilaenwen and Buzukkumarz. They are in Tharbad as well, posing as Galadannun's siblings. Khamul almost killed Lilly today for a small fault. But now, this very night, he will finish what he started, if only we let him! Could you go to Orrodel and warn them?". Aiwendis's grey eyes looked at Udu pleadingly.

[Telcontar_Dunedain]

"It was, no I can't say. I won't betray the, you know what I'm like" said Viv.
"Udu? Was it him? Where does he come into all of this ," replied Khamûl.
"Udu?" said Viv, shocked. "He wasn't involved. I only knew he was in Tharbad when arrived here."
"What do you mean it wasn't him. He must have had something to do with this. No one else is that reckless. They surely wouldn't be stupid enough to try and hurt me," replied Khamûl, turning leaving Viv standing alone. Khamûl went back to his seat. So it wasn't Udu, or so said Viv. Yet they had been good friends, it was Udu who had taught Viv all that she knew about blade skill's.

Suddenly Khamûl felt hot. It was a cool night and a few of the windows had been opened, yet Khamûl's body temperature was swiftly rising. Quickly a grabbed his goblet and filled it with icy water which he drank quickly. No change. He was burning up. Did it have anything to do the earlier attack. It must do. They (whoever they were) must be burning the figure. Khamûl saw Aiwendis turn from Estelmo and walk towards him. He would explain to her what was happening, ask her what she thought. Just as she was about to reach the new Professer she subtly turned away thinking beeter of talking to him when he was obviously in so much pain.

Aiwendis walked over to Maethor who had just finished a dance with one of the Governer's daughters. After a minute of looking and presumably 'speaking' Maethor turned and left that hall, just as Khamûl's pain began to ease. Khamûl quickly go up and made his way over towards Aiwendis before noe of the many waiting rochodol players could ask the beautiful daughter of the Chancellor for the next dance.
"My lady," said Khamûl.
"My Lord," she replied.
"Tell me what you know of what happened earlier," said the Shadow of the East, switching to silent communications to avoid being overheard.
"Well I do know it wasn't Udu if that's what you think," replied Aiwendis.
"Lilaenwen and Buzukkumarz?". questioned Khamûl.
Yes," said Aiwendis. Khamûl turned but Aiwendis managed to grab hold of an arm. "I have sent Udu over. I advise you not to do anything rash. I doubt the Chancellor would approve."

[Rían]

Valandil walked over to the two ladies from Gondolin. Eärniel noted with mixed emotions that his eyes had the same light in them that had shone just a few days ago when he had looked upon her in Nîn in Eilph, only tonight it was very much heightened. RÃ*an watched her friend's varying complexion with interest, as the King opened his mouth to speak.

[Willow Oran]

During the break between dances Mahtaliel caught sight of the Chancellor leaving the floor and recalled her promise to speak to him. Best take care of that now while he seemed in a tolerable mood and before she started getting tipsy.

"I'll be back in just a bit lads." She told Jas and Bumble, "I've got to ask the Chancellor about something."

The two men shakily raised their goblets, "Good luck," Bumble intoned with mock solemnity, "Should you two do eachother in at last we'll be there to pick up the pieces."

Mahtaliel laughed, and left them to their wine, willing her good mood not to vanish as she approached the Chancellor.

"Professor," he greeted her neutrally, "What think you of tonight?"

"Better than some," she answered guardedly, "We'll have an interesting mix of students this year."

"A diplomatic way of putting it," he observed dryly, "Tell me, what is it you need? You've never sought me out for purely social reasons before, there must be something."

It was the way he always had to be right about everything that irritated her, Mahtaliel decided. Even when he was playing at being patient he was always manipulating people to do and say what he wanted them to. And the worst part was, it worked, burying her annoyance Mahtaliel answered smoothly:
"I was speaking to Lady Earniel's companion earlier and she expressed a desire to join certain of the classes, however as the date for registration was past she was somewhat nervous about requesting to do so and asked if I would speak on her behalf."

"And?"

"We've a relatively small class this year, one more student wouldn't add to the load significantly, and if she wishes to learn she has more to recommend her than some of the noble's sons or daughters who are here merely because their parents demand it."

"Why do I believe that even if I said no, I would visit your classrooms and find her there?"

"You know my policy Lord Chancellor, anyone who wishes an education will receive it someway or another, if you deny her as a student, I am in need of a teaching assistant and unless drastic changes have occured without my knowing teaching assistants can be hired by the heads of the departments without other intervention."

"Meaning me." His tone sounded almost amused.

"Primarily, yes." No point in dishonesty.

"Professor... let's not argue here in public. I'm sure the school enjoys our duels but is it really appropriate for this event? If you say we can handle another student, very well. I will let you take care of the details since you are so adamant. Now please, no more buisness for this evening."

Mahtaliel regarded him suspiciously, tempted to ask what he had been drinking. No argument? At all? Either he was drugged or very, very preoccupied.
More likely the latter. Ah well, it had made that interaction easier.

"Agreed then, though on subject of non-buisness..." Mahtaliel had spotted one of the new professor preparing to slip away, "My lord, perhaps now would be a good time to announce the pie throwing, Professors Bumbledore and Fernick are very much looking forward to it, should our new colleagues slip away before hand they would be most dissapointed..."

[Udukhaturz]

After the unpleasantness with Khamûl, the evening had passed rather well, Udu thought. The vintages of wine from the university cellars had proven exceptionally good. During the dancing, Miriel had not stomped all over his feet, and he was grateful for that. Actually, she was an adequate dancer, even though she did dress ostentatiously, and her perfume, which she had applied in too liberal doses, smelled strongly of apricot, a scent of which he was not overly fond.

He had just been about to ask Malaphel for another dance when Aiwendis approached. He sensed that Aiwendis was concerned about something. After apologizing to Malaphel, he walked arm-in-arm with Aiwendis away from the crowd.

"It is Lilaenwen and Buzukkumarz. They are in Tharbad as well, posing as Galadannun's siblings. Khamul almost killed Lilly today for a small fault. But now, this very night, he will finish what he started, if only we let him! Could you go to Orrodel and warn them?" she spoke to him by thought.

He was alarmed with what she told him and replied in thought, “Yes, my lady, I will hasten there immediately to warn them. I am not quite sure where Orrodel is; however, but if you will give me some directions, I will go there posthaste.

After she had given him instructions on how to find Orrodel, he announced in a loud voice for all to hear, “I am feeling a bit ill. I fear perhaps the old malady I contracted in the East has come upon me again. I offer my apologies to all. Perhaps if I go out for a while and walk about, I shall feel better. The evening has been very enjoyable, but I regret that I must take my leave early.�

Aiwendis said consolingly, “I am sorry to hear that and pray that you feel better quickly.�

Aiwendis offered him her hand to kiss. He bent slightly from the waist and taking her hand in his, he lightly brushed over the back of it with his lips, a formal, courtly gesture, and then looked into her eyes. With a nod to her, he turned away and began walking back through the reception hall, saying goodnight to first one and then another, apologizing for his early departure. A servant brought him his blue cloak as he walked into the entryway and he threw it about his shoulders.

He heard someone calling his name as he walked through the doorway, and he thought he recognized the voice of the elf professor. “What is that sharp-tongued creature blathering about now? Something about pies!�

The doorman at the door of this end of the university opened it before him, and Udu strode past him without a word. The doorman scratched his head at the cold demeanor of Maethor as he passed him.

Outside, Udu found that the fog from the river was swirling low about the city, damp and thick. He enjoyed nights like this and felt a kinship for the darkness and the mists. He pulled his hood over his head as he walked out across the campus. After making his way through the East Gate, he turned left, striding north towards Orrodel. The streets were almost vacant and very quiet. He stood on the street outside, looking up at the gables, the towers, the unusual decorations on the building, and took in its vast size.

The fog was dense and somewhere he heard a clock toll out half past the hour. He walked up to the building and rapped on the main door. He turned his head slowly from side to side, sure that he was being watched by eyes unseen and unknown, and quietly slid out the dagger from the sheath at his belt.

[Valandil]

After a bow to the two Elven ladies, Valandil pulled himself erect. His first words died on his lips for he saw that the Chancellor was just offering his arm to Earniel, preparing to lead her onto the dance floor. Ever trying to make the best of a situation he thought that perhaps he could dance with her later, but her black-haired friend was lovely as well, and those other two were drawing nearer.

"May I have the pleasure of this dance?" he asked Rian, bowing slightly once again.

"Why yes, you certainly may, Your Highness." said Rian, her eyes steadily gazing into his.

So they danced, and they talked. They talked about the countryside in different parts of Eriador; the rocky coasts, the rolling plains, the deep dark forests and the flowing rivers. Rian had visited Evendim long ago - even before the Men of Numenor first arrived there. They also spoke about the exotic food served this evening; the skewers with grilled meat and vegetables, the grape leaves rolled into a tube about a mixture of rice, meat and herbs - and those flaky-crusted honey-cakes!

Suddenly, amid their dancing Rian stopped and took a half-step back, saying, "Oh my!"

"Pardon me," responded Valandil. "This sword is rather unwieldy for dancing with, but I hold it dear as a connection with my father." He reached down to adjust the sword, only to find that this time it was NOT his sword! "Uh-oh..."

"Milady," said the King, looking deeply into Rian's eyes and straining to keep the embarrassment from his face. "I doubt that Elven feet would tire... but would it be uncomfortable for you to continue this dance?" and he drew her closely against himself once more.

Rian, seeing the troubled look in his face and hearing the stiffness of his voice replied tenderly, "Let us dance, Oh High King."

[Valandil]

Oreturion stood leaning his back against a wall, beside a fireplace, slowly sipping a drink. He had eaten little - and he most certainly did not feel like socializing this night. Yet he felt no need to keep up a constant guard now, either for himself or for his king - for if there had been any danger, he sensed that it had passed. Or perhaps he simply concluded this based on what he had experienced.

He had been mastered. It had been nearly 80 years since he had been 'put in his place' like he was tonight - and THAT time it had been by Elendil. He wondered who, but he began to have a good idea.

At first his chief suspect was the King himself. He knew well that those with great potential would sometimes make great leaps in their mental abilities - and thought that perhaps the King had decided to teach him some lesson or other - or test an experiment upon him. But it did not feel like the mind of young Valandil.

Also at first, he had resisted. But he quickly found that he could not bust out of it. The natural instinct was to fight it initially - and then eventually to lapse into surrender. However, Oreturion's mind had taken over - his thinking mind - and he had decided to probe it, rather than attempt to force it. It was this that guided his conclusion.

Looking about those gathered suggested several possible culprits - many of unknown quantity.

But how a man as broken as he had been could possibly... it was beyond Oreturion's imagining. And to what possible end?

Of course it was gone now. It had only lasted for the beginning of the meal - while the King was drinking from the cup, and for a short time thereafter. There must have been something to do with that cup. Or something happening during that time.

Just then, the Chancellor caught his eye and approached him. "Oreturion, are you enjoying this evening?" he asked with a slight smile.

"Despite the immensity of these chambers, Lord Ilmenzor, I have found myself feeling rather... claustrophobic." and he fixed his expressionless eyes steadily upon those of the other.

For his part, the Chancellor maintained his smile as he replied, "Yes well - perhaps the night air will remedy that. You can find an open courtyard through those doors across the room. For myself," and he sighed, "Time has not yet served to remove from me the memory of the one whom I held so dear, but a host should perform his proper duties."

The Chancellor then turned about and walked toward Earniel, asking her to dance just before Valandil arrived, apparently intent on the very same mission.

Oreturion continued to watch.

[Earniel]

When the dance was over, Eärniel excused herself from the Chancellor with a smally curtsy and left the dance floor. She walked through the open doors into the gardens of the university for the cooler air outside.

There were more people who had had the same idea, for Eärniel could hear talking and soft laughter here and there in the darkening night. Lanterns were hung in the gardens also so that those who wished to escape the warmer reception hall for a while had light enough to see by.

Eärniel walked a little further away from the lights and people. She had enough by starlight to see. Momentarily saved from the legions of humans packed close together in the reception hall, she opened her mind and let her senses wander. She had been blocking everything out all night and it was becoming strenuous because she hadn't need to do that for many years. Now she had a short relief, they wouldn't miss her immediatly in the reception hall.

She heardly faintly the tell-tale sound of a fountain. A fountain! Eärniel's eyes lit up at the thought. She loved the sound of falling water. And she still had a few minutes before she should return to the hall...

She walked lightly over the darkened paths of the garden towards the sound of the fountain. The air smelt faintly of jasmine. She finally caught sight of the fountain, and it was beautiful indeed. She started to walk to it, to bath her hands in the bubbling water, when she sensed something and stopped in her tracks.

She concentrated. Yes, somebody had been weaving spells here. It was the second time this night she came across something like this. Where had humans suddenly picked up these skills? Or was it something else? But the presence of this spell was already fading, it must have been preformed a day or two days before at the most.

If Eärniel had passed that way again the next day, she would not have perceived it. But now that she was alone here in the faint moon light, with her mind open, she had picked up the weak trace. Yet it was already too weak to find out what kind of spell it had been.

She ran her fingertips through the cool surface of the water but the fountain was suddenly not so alluring anymore. And she realised she shouldn't linger outside over long. She turned back. With many things on her mind, she hurried back to the lighted building of the hall.

[Gordis]

Nodding curtly to Aiwendis, Khamul went to the table and poured himself more cold water. There was no way to know if the Easterling would follow her advice. Had he even believed her? Khamul was well aware that the Numenoreans among the Nine preferred to stick together, so perhaps the Cruel Easterner thought she had lied to protect Udu? Aiwendis suddenly felt sick with worry. If so, she just sent Udu into a trap!

Biting her lip, Aiwendis searched for the Chancellor, but found him speaking with the dour and scary Mahtaliel the Elf. Having finished with her, he moved to talk to Oreturion, another dangerous man. Aiwendis was afraid even to send a thought to her Captain, while he was with either of those two. At this moment, a one-eyed polo player bowed before her.

" Lady Aiwendis, will you honor me with a dance?"
Aiwendis turned to him. What was his name? Yes, Martalion. Well, there was no possible escape.
"Gladly, my Lord", she replied demurely and took his arm. He has shown himself a good dancer and his humorous conversation could have pleased Aiwendis, were she not so badly upset.

She scanned the dancing floor, looking over Martalion's shoulder. The King was quite close to them. He was dancing with a dark-haired Elf, and, seemingly, was having another problem with his long sword. As Aiwendis watched, the two of them stepped from each other and looked down, probably at the sword hilt. At the next turn, Aiwendis saw them dancing again, Valandil pressing the Elf to him possessively. It looked like the potion worked well.

Aiwendis tried to find Khamul, but failed to spot him. He was not among the dancers. The Morgul Lord and the Lady of Swanfleet were not far away, dancing expertly. Aiwendis dared to send a thought "My Lord, I have to talk to you about Khamul. I am most worried". A cold reply flashed back "No time now. Khamul is pretty able to look after himself. Dance with the King and see how the potion works." Aiwendis tried again, but her thought returned to her, blocked. The Captain was not going to repeat his orders.

Defeated, Aiwendis curtsied to Martalion, as the dance ended, and looked for the King. But the King and the Elf were not going to stop, pressed against each other, they seem lost in their own private world...

Another rochdol player approached, bowed, and took Aiwendis in his arms. She smiled and replied mechanically. The dance seemed unending.

[Grey_Wolf]

Next evening, upon meeting up with the two wolves, Old Grey and White Patch snuck off towards a by Falco indicated secret doorway in the Walls of Tharbad.

It led by a narrow corridor into a deserted house which lay close to the eastern end of the citywall.

[Rían]

RÃ*an turned from examining her friend's interesting variations of complexion and prepared to greet the approaching king. As Valandil bowed, prepatory to what RÃ*an guessed would be asking Eärniel to dance with him, the Chancellor suddenly appeared and beat him to it, whisking Eärniel off to the dance floor with what seemed to be unnecessary haste.

Valandil, ever the gentleman, made another small bow and, expertly masking his disappointment, courteously asked RÃ*an to dance. She assented with pleasure. What she had heard of the king from others, and the little contact she had had with him, had led her to think highly of his character, integrity, and talents, and he seemed to truly love his people and land. And he was good-looking, to boot!

Valandil lead her onto the dance floor and encircled her slender waist with a firm arm, and, pulling her close, he guided them expertly in among the other dancers who were enjoying one of the slower dances of the evening.

What came next took RÃ*an completely by surprise.

It was his smell that did it.

[Rían]

RÃ*an's heart had been awakened, from what had been quite a long (self-imposed) sleep, by the note she received that afternoon along with the beautiful mare, Hwesta. Those lines were very dear to her - in fact, they were a part of her very being, for her human father had composed them for his proposal to her elven mother, knowing of the differing fates of the two kindred.

"Fair and lovely as thou art,
Thou hast stolen my very heart,
I can die - but cannot part -
My lovely lady."

They had deemed their love worth any pain that might come after, and put their estel, or hope, in the hands of the All-Father, Eru Ilúvatar, the One who created love. Their union had been blessed by two children - a son, Alagos, and a daughter, RÃ*an.

RÃ*an loved to be in her father's arms and hear the story of how, fatherless and motherless, wandering in the woods to get away from relatives who considered him a burden, he had fallen from a tree and injured himself, only to be found by an elf-maiden with a heart for healing and a mind that could see beyond outward appearances. She would snuggle up close to his chest, breathing in his familiar smell, as he told her of his love for her mother and how he left his people to join with hers. She loved both her parents dearly, but as she grew older, she saw that her father was changing, in ways that her playmates' fathers were not.

One day, she overheard some of her playmates talking about how her father was growing older in a way their fathers weren't, and she ran away and climbed into her favorite tree to cry, for they had verbalized what she had been trying to not think about. Her father found her, though, and she climbed down and ran to his arms, smelling his familiar smell, and railed against the fate that would take him from her so soon. It was then that he had said that verse to her for the first time, and told her that his love for her was an eternal thing, although they would be parted physically for a time.

"Our estel - our hope - is not in fate, my little tree-climbing bird-girl; it is in a person. Eru Ilúvatar IS love, and will not separate forever those who love. I will see you again, sweetheart. Do not fear."

When the time came for her father to depart from this world, her brother's friend Tyaron was a great comfort to her. He had always been kind to her growing up, and sometimes had protected her from her brother's wilder antics (he was born on a stormy, windy night, and his mother-name, Alagos ("wind-storm") reflected his personality well, as mother-names usually did). One time a friend of hers had found a beautiful feather. All the little girls ooh-ed and aah-ed over it, including RÃ*an. Tyaron, looking up from his game with Alagos, saw RÃ*an's face. After the game was over, Tyaron left for a walk in the woods. He was gone for a week (not unusual for elven children, who were at home in nature) and one day RÃ*an, looking up from some work she was attempting, saw him in front of her with not only a feather, but the entire bird held gently in his hands and offered to her.

As the years passed, they started a transition from childhood friends to lovers (in the wonderful old-fashioned sense of the word - a wooer and his intended), but it didn't go smoothly or quickly, and didn't go to completion. Tyaron was patient, for he saw that moving too fast scared RÃ*an away - she still had unhealed wounds from her father's death, and her friends couldn't relate to her in this area to help her in the healing process. She also found that Tyaron, like all the other elven men, just somehow lacked something that she knew and loved in her father. So she started to act just slightly more distant towards him than she really felt, and he backed off. Elves have a lot of time, and he wanted all of her, and thought the best way to achieve this was to give her time and space.

She was also trying to come to terms with not being quite the same as her friends in many small ways, and would usually just try to cover up and act like them because she got tired of the odd looks. Tuor's coming to Gondolin, and his marriage to the king's daughter Idril (who was a great friend of her mother before, and even closer now, with their shared experience of human husbands), and the birth of their son, Eärendil, was a wonderful thing for her, and she was often in the king's household. Soon she would only see Tyaron on occasion, but he always made her heart beat just a little faster, although she wouldn't admit it.

Then came that night with the people arrayed on the walls of Gondolin for the festival, when the light came too early, and came in the west instead of the east. Tyaron, fighting with the house of Tuor (for he was a brave and able fighter, and was aligned with the house of the Swan), found her amid the confusion, and taking her face in his battle-stained hands, spoke that very same verse to her (he knew her parents' story). He told her that his heart was hers - "If you ever come to want it," he added with an enigmatic smile - and that he would find her in this world or the next. He then kissed her for the first time, and disappeared into the masses.

She never saw him again. Now that her heart finally saw clearly, she lost him in the mists.

The historians have noted how it was the very reeks and fumes of Morgoth that were the salvation of the remnant of Gondolin, for Tuor and Idril and their son, bright Eärendil, along with a small host of others, were able to escape through a secret passageway and across the plains unseen, shielded by the smoke. But the smoke and fumes also separated the refugees, and they ended up in several groups and became widely sundered. As the years went by, on occasion one would meet with a wandering elf from Gondolin, and the questions would start - did you see so-and-so? Have you heard anything about so-and-so? and on and on. On rare occasions, there would be a wonderful surprise; mostly, there was sorrow, but at least there was closure.

But she had never heard anything about her lover and her brother.

Her father she knew about. Her mother she knew about. But she didn't know about the fate of her brother and her lover.

And now, as the King drew her close, she smelled a familiar smell - the human smell - and her heart felt like bursting. Without thinking what she was doing, she moved in closer to his body and leaned in intimately against him.

[Lotesse]

As Ray was catching up with his best friend Marty, he noticed out of the corner of his eye what appeared to be a terse, yet brief conversation between Viniglaen and her older brother. She left Professor Galadannun, noticing him noticing her, and came over to say hi.

"My Lady Viv!" greeted Marty enthusiastically, with a wide smile. "How've you been as of late? I hear you are getting along swimmingly with my main man, here," and with that, Marty gave Ray a playful punch in the arm.

"It's been a great couple days, to be sure," smiled Viv in response, but her eyes told Ray she was not smiling within. The heat of constrained aggressive annoyance was making her eyes blaze brilliantly twilight blue, and flashes of cool amethyst flickered now and then from the depths.

"I'd like the next dance, Ray, if you feel like it, " she said.

"Are you kidding?" said Ray, as he handed his drink to his friend, and took her arm. "I can't imagine NOT feeling like dancing with you."

"All right, all right, take it easy," said Viv, "no need to overdo it."

He leaned in close to her, holding her arm, and as they made their way to the dance floor, and took formation with the others to start a traditional waltz, he quoted, with a twinkle in his eye:

"It's certain that fine women eat
A crazy salad with their meat."

That put a REAL smile on Viniglaen's face. He had picked up on her frantic fury, without using art or craft, merely by having gotten to know her for her. He had felt she'd want to remain close-lipped about what was truly bothering her so badly, and, gentleman that he was, he had acknowledged her frustration without interfering or asking questions. Ray could not possibly have known, though, just how thoroughly she'd noted this, and how much it had, for the moment, made her feel less alone, less trapped within herself.

As they took to the dance steps, his strong, large hand upon the small of her back, her softly tousled head bent inward and dispassionately glancing out, he could smell upon her soft neck the rosewater essence she liked to use, mingled with her own unique and intoxicating scent. It made him close his eyes, only for a moment, and in doing so he accidentally lightly stepped on her polished boot. She didn't mind, and they didn't fall out of step.

Marty, watching them dance, saw quite clearly that these two had something more going on than just being playmates. 'It's about time Raendil found a good woman to open up to,' he was thinking, 'but I wish I didn't have to feel so annoyed by it. He better not be spending ALL his time with her. What, I gotta take care of Val all by myself now? ' Marty was loathe to admit to himself that he was feeling a bit jealous of his friend, so he shook the thoughts out of his head and turned to refill his goblet.

[The last sane person]

OOC: Ooh La La...:D

He really couldn't believe his good luck. And Ray happily dug into his plate, sampling the spicer dishes, to his delight. Having always been adventurous in his taste for food, he sampled most everything he didnt recognize. He leaning back, he looked over the dinner guests on his side of the table, finding Marty happily squished between two female elvish guests. Both of whom, he recognized. The first at his soon to be jewelery teacher, the other as the major domo at Viv's! Ray laughed into his kabab, and took a sip of his wine. He got a chuckle at Val botching up his first try at the toast, Ray roared out with the rest of the crowed for him to drain it in a go.

Marty leaned back and caught Ray's eye, and a grin passed between them. They were both enjoying themselves very much! Shortly there after, the exotic dancers were brought in, and Ray tried not to stare too hard. After all, he and Val were raised by elves, and both his mother and Val's were very modest, so neither of them were used to scantly clad women dancing for them. He was secretly thankful of Ilmenzor's spent time in the east. Soon, it was the guests turn to dance, as he got up Marty came down and they went to the corner to have a chat.

"Aha, I see you managed to FINALLY ask a girl out!" Marty toasted him and clinked his wine glass against Ray's. Whom was trying not to turn pink.

"I, um...Well, it's only fitting she come and all. Yeah, we had fun. She is one hell of a woman, I find. I do hope you were talking about classes with professor Mahtaliel...and not trying to flirt...That would create immense problems you know." He returned with a cheeky grin of his own, and Marty fought to stave off any further comments in that line. "No, I am not flirting with the professor. That is not going to happen what so ever, I am quite occupied with chasing after Lily, thank you much." Ray laughed and toasted Marty, "To the Chase!"

"Here, here!" They downed the rest of their wine, putting it down on the near by table, both heading off to ask for dances. Marty remembered something and caught a hold of Ray's shoulder. "Hoy, are you still on for the race tommorow? You were boasting about that little filly, and how she can whup my Ithillion in a race. Tommorow dawn, don't forget!" Ray's innards sank.

"Uhm, about the race. You see I-"

"Chickening out? I thought so! No body can beat Me and Ithilion."

"Not so! Me and Volricom can pound you into the trail, but,"

"Well, it's not Volricom we are talking about, thought I dont he can do anything either. So, admit, your filly Laslock os something, just isn't up to par!"

"Her name is Laslech! She is more than up to par! But she Isn'tMineAnymoreIGaveHerToViniglaen..." It came out in a whoosh. Ray was turning a little red, and Marty raised his eyebrows and started to laugh!

"Oh ho ho! You tease me for chasing after girls, now do you? If that isn't the kettle calling the pot black, here you are berating me and you go off a courting Viv! That horse, granted, is more than enough to serve as a engament present! Oh man, you've known this girl for what, two days now?"

Ray was by now, beet red. "well, yes, I uh...Mmm..She said she didn't have a horse, and Tharbad is huge, so I gave her one...I..uhm..." He ended rather lamely. Marty dug into him, "Well, hot-stuff, you have other horses you could have given her, and for transportation, they would do more than serve! Why'd you give her Laslech?"

"Er...."

"..."

"I didn't think anything other than Laslech would suit her. I will keep the race appointment, and Volricom shall pound your Ithilion like no other!" With that they both saw Viv coming up to say hello, "Well, go dance with the woman! Aside from admiring from afar, go do something with her!" Marty whispered to Ray's ear.

Viv saw Ray comming up, "I'd like the next dance, Ray, if you feel like it?" To which they both distinctly heard a loud snort from further up. Ray scowled in that direction, "I couldn't imagine NOT wanting to dance with you!"

[Gordis]

Temporary placeholder for BB

PIE THROWING CONTEST

I put a placeholder for BB. If he wants to use it - OK, if not, I believe Val has the possibility to delete it.

So now we can continue!
Gordis

[Udukhaturz]

Outside the Orrodel Mansion, Udu stood knocking on the main door. One rap, then two, but still no answer. “Are they all asleep here?� he wondered. “Is there no butler, no chamberlain of the house, not even a maid to answer my summons!� He looked around him at the deserted streets, the fog swirling about his feet, and wrapping about the building. He knocked louder, and becoming irritated, he began pounding on the door, but still nothing.

He could always break in the door, but that was hardly a way to announce his presence and would surely not be considered polite. He remembered spells of unlocking but discarded that, for there was no telling when a night watchman might go by. Certainly, a watchman would be alarmed if he saw a door come open on its own without anyone opening it. “That would be too suspicious,� Udu thought.

With a shrug of his shoulders, he walked back into the street and started striding west as though he were going back towards the University’s West Gate. Keeping low to the buildings, he darted into a side street and made his way towards the back of the huge mansion. He was perfectly sober now, having spoken a spell of sobriety when he left the university. He walked cautiously around the back of the building, keeping close, and then at last he found a servant’s door.

It was a simple spell to unlock the door, and soon he was inside. He walked down a passageway and saw a faint light gleaming ahead. He could smell a vague hint of rising scones. He would try that door first. It was unopened and he walked in, surprised to see a figure lying on the floor. “A body in the kitchen?� he wondered. “How careless of Lilaenwen and Buzukkumarz. Why did they not dispose of this corpse properly?�

Then he heard a low moan and bent down to look into the face of a woman. “A cook or kitchen maid,� he thought. He put his hand down and touched her clammy face and he knew instantly what was her ailment. “Shadow,� he thought. “Someone has been playing games in the kitchen, and got a little too rowdy.� He saw a bottle of cooking wine on a shelf on the wall. He took it down and uncorked it, took a drink, and stood there looking at the groaning woman. “She is none of my concern,� he said, and finished the bottle of cooking wine, putting the empty bottle on a table. He stepped over her and walked to the door and went out.

“Now to find Lilaenwen and Buzukkumarz. Where might they be?�

He walked from the servants’ section to the main hall and saw no one and heard nothing. All of his senses were on the alert, and he could smell no human blood in the immediate area, just vague scents that were not fresh. “No living close by,� he thought.

He saw a set of stairs leading to the upper level and began climbing them, holding his dagger in his hand. He found a hall with closed doors and no lights burning. His sensations began to heighten, and he could sense those of his own kind nearby. He saw a faint glimmer of light under one door and after walking to it, he pulled it open and saw two figures, one in a pink gown, on the bed.

They are obviously occupied, so he made for their wine cabinet and pulled out a bottle and uncorked it with his teeth, taking a long drink.

“Lilaenwen and Buzukkumarz, I see you are enjoying the evening. Do you know you have a woman near death on your kitchen floor? And, Buzukkumarz, old chap, I hate to tell you this, but pink is simply not your color."

[Lotesse]

The waltz concluded, and as the dancers all seguewayed off into different directions, Viv and Ray stepped aside together, an unspoken connection between them dismissing any need for small-talk.

"Listen," said Ray, "I'm getting together with my best friend Marty tomorrow, for a little horse race, pitting Volcirom against his mount, and I'd love to see you join us. In fact, come to think of it, it'd be something else if you could get Laslech to race againstr one of Val's Mearas, if he'd let us."

"I don't think I've got anything else commited for tomorrow afternoon, Ray; sure I'd love to be there, if I'm able to," she answered. Her mind was shouting to her heart, Yes, YES, I will be there with all the bells of Angmand on, but of course she tamped down her secret enthusiasm. Seeming cool and nonplussed was something Viniglaen had the market cornered on.

"But I've got to get going right now," Viv continued. "My family, it would seem, has need of me this evening. Can't really go into it, but there's something I must take care of, back home."

"Of course! Say no more," Ray said. And he'd say no more, either.

"In fact, I must go now," said Viv, noticing that Udu had ducked out already, and picking up on Aiwendis' anxious vibes and Khamul's irrational rage.

'This is going to be interesting, to say the least,' she was thinking. 'Morgoth knows, whenever Khamul's had his tail tweaked, it guarantees some sort of violent argument. He really needs a woman to pleasantly ditract him, these days. I wonder if I could find him one - no, hardly anyone or anything has ever pleased him. If only he could find pleasantry; his unlife of disatisfaction is a constant tense-fest with ALL of us.'

"May I call upon you tomorrow noon, my Lady?" asked Ray, somewhat awkwardly.

"Come on, Ray, please call me Vivvie," said Viniglaen, a smile in her eyes especially for him. "And yes, by all means, I should love to see you tomorrow."

"With bells on?"

"Both Laslech and I will have our proverbial bells on, yopu can bet your bottom schekel," said Viv, and she meant it.

With that, she took her leave, walking hurriedly alone back to Orrodel in the fog-thick night. She was thankful for the time with Ray, for it had succeeded in cooling down her private rage, and Morgoth knows anything that cools Viv down from her fantastic and dangerous rages is a good thing indeed.

[Valandil]

Valandil's senses were tingling, his heart was pounding and his mind was racing as he continued to dance with Rian. Already they had gone for two full pieces of music, instead of moving on to another partner after one. Rian seemed absorbed - lost in thought, and Valandil did not wish to disturb it. Besides, it was allowing his 'condition' to run its course.

It felt good to hold her like this, and the way she nestled against him made him feel... good.

As the music began to move toward its finish, he looked down toward her, trying to find if she wished to continue with a third dance - knowing how tongues in Tharbad would wag if they did... might already be set to wagging at two.

[Grey_Wolf]

Suddenly a fluttering of silent wings could be heard from the window of the room where Falco and the wolves ended up after padding and flying through the corridor.

[Rían]

RÃ*an, wandering in the memories that the mere scent of Valandil had brought back with such force, suddenly came back to the present when she realized that Valandil was asking her a question about Eriador and what parts she had been in. So they talked, and danced, and talked some more - but on RÃ*an's side, always with a bit of her mind on her father, which made her feel unconsciously closer to Valandil. Her body followed her mind's lead, unintentionally giving Valandil some very interesting signals, which, in his drugged state, were extremely invigorating, to say the least.

Suddenly, amid their dancing, Rian stopped and took a half-step back, saying, "Oh my!", for she had just felt something that she had most definitely NEVER felt when in her father's arms...

"Pardon me," responded Valandil. "This sword is rather unwieldy for dancing with, but I hold it dear as a connection with my father." He reached down to adjust the sword.

RÃ*an may have been a nookie* rookie, but she had had her little talk with her mother, and she had NOT been born yesterday by any means, and knew that it was most definitely not the sword that she had felt against her body.

"Milady," said the King, looking deeply into Rian's eyes and straining to keep the embarrassment from his face. "I doubt that Elven feet would tire... but would it be uncomfortable for you to continue this dance?" and he drew her closely against himself once more.

Rian, seeing the troubled look in his face and hearing the stiffness of his voice replied tenderly, "Let us dance, Oh High King." They continued dancing, but this time just a little farther apart, and with a bit more constraint between them. Valandil, looking down at his partner, discretely admired the rosy color that had sprung into her cheeks. "I better stop and change partners after this dance", he thought, "or every tongue in Tharbad will be wagging!" But he didn't want to stop - that is, until he caught sight of Eärniel coming back inside from the gardens ...

He shook himself mentally and applied himself more vigorously to sword-management ...



* [ooc] "Nookie" is a word in the dialect of Gondolin, derived from [Q] "No-", beget, and [Q] "Kay", lie down.

Those words are actually in Tolkien's entymologies!! I kid you not!!
(well, Nookie isn't, but the rest are!!)

..

[CrazySquirrel]

“Lilaenwen and Buzukkumarz, I see you are enjoying the evening. Do you know you have a woman near death on your kitchen floor? And, Buzukkumarz, old chap, I hate to tell you this, but pink is simply not your color."

Two tousled heads, fiery red and black, rose from the crumpled bedcovers; two pairs of slightly glazed eyes, green and black, looked at Udu. Then the green eyes suddenly cleared. Recognition dawned on Lilly.

"Udu! Ol’ boy, I thought you sorta kicked the bucket on the Fiery mountain! Let me kiss ye.." she crawled out of the bed, giggling, and approached Udu on unsteady feed.

Enlightened about the intruder’s identity, Penny mumbled in reply to Udu’s question:

"Woman? What woman, I need no more woman… I have got enough as it is…"

At this moment, Lilly stumbled and would have fallen, if not for Udu, who caught her with his free arm, following his deeply ingrained chivalric instinct.

"Leave Lilly alone, you filthy tark," growled Buz.

"Where is me shimmy?" asked Lilly no one in particular.

"What do you want here, tark?" croaked Buzukkumarz, the Fifth of the Nine.

Forgetting about the shimmy, Lilly turned to face Udu again. "You remember any sobering spells?"

[The last sane person]

Oh, how I wish this wouldn’t end. For a moment, he lost himself in the dance, closing his eyes and taking in Viniglaen’s scent. For a moment he lost track of himself, letting his heart and soul run for a brief second, and ended up almost stepping on Viniglaen’s boot. Ray’s mind quickly brought him to the present and chastised him. Hold it right there boy! Not more than two hours ago you pledged to hang on to your heart! One moment with her and WHOOSH! Out the door with that promise! Shame on you! However this was one of the rare times Ray’s Heart over ruled his Mind, telling it to “Shut up, and go die.� in regards to his feelings for Viv. When she had come over to greet him and Marty, Ray sensed that all was not well.

One look in her eyes told him that the smile she wore was certainly not what she was feeling inside. He had seen what it was like to have her actually smile, though it was only once, he had kept it foremost in his mind, and was determined to see it again. But he also knew that Viniglaen was as he was, and would wish to remain tight-lipped about it, which he acknowledged with a silence of his own. Yet he knew something that might put a smile on his fair lady’s face, and quoted a part of one of his oft recited poems;


"It's certain that fine women eat
A crazy salad with their meat."

And indeed, it worked, for he saw and felt her smile, and she relaxed as they danced, both flowing with the slow traditional waltz. Both of them were off thinking of different things, as the waltz, regrettably, ended. Yet Ray had another idea, which he thought would cheer up this wild woman with whom he danced. Unspoken, as they shared a bond which they needed no words, they went off to the side together. Guessing the kind of woman she was, he invited her to the horse race that was to happen the next morning.


"I don't think I've got anything else committed for tomorrow afternoon, Ray; sure I'd love to be there, if I'm able to," Was her cool response, but Ray knew that she would enjoy it immensely. With that, she took her leave, to go check up on her family. Ray mulled around the dance floor, talking with Mahtaliel, though his thoughts were only half in the world around him. Then he talked with Rian, after she had finished dancing (2 times) with the king, for a while, then moving around in chitchat and dances around the floor. He finally slipped away to a deserted part of the garden, after smiling to himself, seeing Marthalion dance with Aiwendis. Making way to the small clearing in the back, he looked up at the stars, which were out in force tonight. A smile, a real one, crept onto his face, as his spread his arms and tilted his head back, taking in the clean night air.

Feeling that no one was around, he started to sing. He had a wonderful voice, which even the elves praised when he was younger. Unfortunately, his father didn’t exactly hold to it, saying that singing is either for elves or women, seeing that he was neither, he was encouraged to stop. Or at least, sing when he was alone. But after a while, he couldn’t even sing then, his voice stopped and there were not even whispers of song. That didn’t stop him now though. Arms still spread; he moved in a little dance, that he had seen elves do when they had their music, a graceful willowy dance that fitted the tune in his head.


“When in the springtime of the year
When the trees are crowned with leaves
When the ash and oak, and the birch and yew
Are dressed in ribbons fair
When owls call the breathless moon
In the blue veil of the night
The shadows of the trees appear
Amidst the lantern light….�

He suddenly felt his ears roughly tweaked, and Ray whirled around with a punch that connected solidly with the person’s chest. “Caela ie'lle!� He shouted.

“Oof!�, Responded the receiver of the stunning blow, landing on their behind.

Raendil looked down and finally got a look at who it was. Marthalion was grinning up at him, while rubbing his pectoral muscle; Ray’s hands went up to massage his ear tips.

“Tanya awra! Mankoi naa lle sinome! � Ray growled at his prone friend, his mind still operating in elvish.

“Sorry. My elvish is a bit rusty.� Marty cautiously got up, still grinning at his put out friend.

“I said ‘That hurt. What was that for?’ you jerk!� He resisted the urge to reach up and see if his ears were crimped. He was thankful that it was dark, so Marty couldn’t see his blush.

“Oh, nothing, I was just curious. You always hide your ears under your hair. And after hearing and watching you, I just wanted to see if my suspicion was true.� He moved his arm, trying to ease the muscle.

“And what was your suspicion?�

“I was checking to see if your ears were pointed.� He raised his other arm to ward off an impending blow, while laughing at Ray’s righteous look. “Okay, okay! Take it easy, just a joke!� There was a brief silence, and Marty moved backwards a pace and twirled around. “Oh, I am afraid I missed the last few steps, could you do it again? That’s quite the party piece.� He demonstrated a willowy bow, like one Ray had done, and then leapt away as a swift kick was aimed at his behind. “Ha Ha! This woman is really bringing it out of you, or perhaps it’s the wine. What’s gotten into you?� Marty said from behind a bush he was using as a buffer, grinning from ear to ear.

“I…I…I was just remembering a similar moment I had growing up, and I felt a little elvish, so I…danced. You have a problem?� Raendil drew himself up, refusing to be baited.

“Well, you may have felt like an elf, but you looked like an idiot!� with that Marty was doing the 100 meter dash to his horse, and left for his room, since it was the end of the night. Ray called out to his retreating friend, trying hard not to laugh. “Prepare for defeat tomorrow! For both Viniglaen and I shall ride against you!� Marty turned his horse around, a good distance away. “I look forward to it, may the best pair win!�

Raendil shook his still laughing head, and went for his horse, upon mounting he heard a Rib-bit. “Oh! My slimy little friend, we forgot about you! Here, let’s put you back.� He rode over to the pier and re-deposited the amphibian back into its watery home. With that he went home and prepared for the morning, and fell into a dreaming sleep.

[Butterbeer]

"funny old day" mused the frog.

[Udukhaturz]

Buzukkumarz was obviously totally past the point of mild inebriation. He was outright drunk. “You besodden fool!� Udu exclaimed, frowning. “I am not harming her!� He looked to Lilly. “Aye, I know several sobering spells.� His gaze went back to the drunken form of the Fifth upon the bed and he intoned three times:

Akrum radogh Buzukkumarz-ghaara!

A look of surprise dawned on Buzukkumarz’ face as he instantly sobered up. “What did I just say?� he asked with confusion.

“Nothing, old boy,� Udu replied, smiling. “Now back to the matter of the woman on your kitchen floor. She might be dead now,� he said casually. “It is really careless to leave such things about, you know. You never can tell who might blunder in and find them,� he laughed.

“As you can see, Lilly, I did not die upon Orodurin... Now about that kiss. It has been a long time, Lilly, old girl.� So, wine bottle in his right hand, he held her about the waist with the left and kissed her, a friendly kiss of greeting.

“Now let us all sit down. I did not come here to discuss the corpses you keep in your kitchen, or to drink your wine. I came here with a purpose. I think we need to discuss something, and, perhaps, you two will give me some information.�

[CrazySquirrel]

Buz got up and, having rummaged in a trunk, found and donned black pants and shirt. Taking his long sword from under the bed, he attached it to his belt. Now sober, he perceived urgency in Udu’s mocking tone.
Dressed, Buzukkumarz was ready to listen.

"Put something on," he snarled at Lilly, who returned to the bed and stretched on a coverlet like a big lazy cat. Buz threw his black cloak in her direction. Lilly shook her head, and went to fish her pink peignoir, discarded by Buz, out of the depths of the big bed.

"What is it about a woman?" asked Lilly suspiciously. "I hope you haven’t…?"

"Shut up and listen, Lilly" advised Buz.

[Willow Oran]

Mahtaliel had long since set her wine aside and was beginning to sober. The conversation with the Chancellor had helped that along, now she was waiting for Lady Rian to finish dancing with the King so she could tell her that her request had been granted. Mahtaliel had moved to stand by the fireplace at the end of the dance floor, searching for the best vantage point only to find that she wasn't the only guest watching the king and the lady dance.
One of the king's advisors, she couldn't recall his name, or if they had even been introduced, was standing off to the side, being inscrutable. Nearly inscrutable anyway. He was quite good at it for a mortal, but a closer look revealed that he seemed as disturbed as she had felt at the beginning of the evening, and was just now beginning to feel again.
Perhaps he would have some insight to this unease that pervaded the celebrations tonight.
She stepped over to stand beside him and nodded at the still dancing, and... blushing? How interesting! pair.

"They dance well together, do they not?" She commented.

"Mm." The man agreed still on guard and lost in thought.

Mahtaliel wondered if it would be worth it to try to draw him out...

No, she decided, it wouldn't. He didn't wish to converse and she was beginning to tire. Quietly excusing herself she made her way to the doors. Stopping only to catch Rian just after the music ended and Valandil moved on.

"Lady Rian, I spoke with the Chancellor, if you come find me tomorrow morning I would be glad to help you work out a schedule."

"Thank you!" Rian smiled, "Where will I be able to find you?"

"I'm usually in my forge, or in the Art/History building, anyone familiar with the campus can tell how to get there."

"Till tomorrow then."

Mahtaliel bid her 'Good night' and left, hurrying through the empty entrance hall and out into the night. It was nearing midnight, but she would be up for a while yet. She had work to be done both in the forge and in the office if she was to be prepared for the morrow.

[Udukhaturz]

“Buzukkumarz, I am glad to see you return to a state of sobriety,� Udu smiled smugly. “What did I always tell you back in the old days? Always stay in control, no matter how drunk you become.�

He was slightly disappointed when Lilly reclaimed her pink peignoir and donned it once again. At least she looked a lot better in it than had Buzukkumarz. “One thing could always be said for Buzukkumarz,� Udu thought, “He has good taste in women.�

“There is no point in my standing here,� Udu said as he sat down in a chair across the room and tilted his wine bottle to his lips. When he had finished drinking, he set the bottle down on a low table beside the chair.

“Remember what happened to you this afternoon, Lilaenwen? I understand you almost died. After that incident, it was not at all wise to provoke Khamûl any more but yet you did!

“Khamûl was not feeling at all well at the reception tonight. He looked as though he had been knifed in the stomach, and his face was as pale as a bloated carp. Someone put a spell upon him and I know it was not I. Aiwendis is quite upset about the whole business.�

He looked to them both. “It must have been you two enspelled him! He was almost recovered when I left, and he will be in a very unpleasant mood. I have come here to warn you.

“Now I advise you, Buzukkumarz, either to heal that wretch in the kitchen and cast a spell of delusion upon her so she thinks that she was drunk and hallucinating, or kill her and we will all devise a way to dispose of the body. Whatever you do, get her out of sight until we decide.

“Now,� he said, “while you are busy about that task, Lilaenwen and I will discuss old times.� He smiled.

[Valandil]

As the music from their second dance wound to a stop, Valandil relaxed his hold on Rian and let her separate further from him. They stopped and he bowed, thanking her for the dance. She smiled and graciously moved on.

Meanwhile, Valandil discretely wrapped his cloak partly about himself. He had noticed that Earniel had danced the same dance with the Chancellor as his first dance with Rian. But as he and Rian had started their second, she had headed out the doors to the gardens outside. He walked toward them, hoping to find her in time for the next dance.

As he neared the doors, Earniel came in rather quickly, with her eyes set straight forward, directed past the King, perhaps toward the far doors, and a grim look upon her face. Valandil stepped directly into her path, no more than a ranga in front of her. She stopped.

"Lady Earniel," he said with a bow, "May I have the pleasure of dancing this dance with you?"

[Telcontar_Dunedain]

Khamûl returned to his and poured himself some cold water. He knew what he had to do, but he wasn't sure if it was wise. He looked around and noticed both the Chancellor and Aiwendis were preoccupied. Perfect, he would have better chance to slip out unnoticed. Quietly and quickly he walked to the cloakroom where he was handed his cloak, and thn proceeded to sleip out side. The air was so fresh, a pleasent change to the stuffy air that was filling the Reception Hall.

Khamûl kept to the Shadows on his way back. He didn't know who else had left. Viniglaen may have left, and she may not have come by foot. He wanted all three of his enemies in the same room when he reached Orrodel. What he didn't want is someone tipping them off about his arrival and disappearing, before he even reached there.

As he reached the end of th road, Khamûl could see a light in the top floor was turned on. Lily's boudoir. Perfect. They would have no means of escape. As he drew nearer he heard faint voices, not clear anough to make out what was being said, but it did make one thing certain. There was three people there, Lileawen, Buzukkumarz and Udu. Khamûl pushed the front door quietly, nothing, Udu hadn't entered that way as he had a tendancy to leave doors slightly ajar, an easier escape. But it also meant an easier entrance for unwanted visitor's. Khamûl slipped round to the back of the house. The door was ajar. Khamûl pushed it slightly and opened it fully when he heard no noise.

As he entered the room Khamûl noticed two things. One, an empty wine bottle maning Lilaewen and Buzukkamarz may well be drunk. And a maid lying on the floor mening at least one of them was drunk. As Khamûl drew near the maid he felt something sinister in the air, the presence of some sorcery. The Black Breath. Quietly picking her he slowly walked into the living room and left her on the sofa. How could they have been so foolish. If it had been anyone other than Khamûl who had seen her like that then Tharbad could be up in arms against the Nazgûl by now.

Khamûl drew his sword as he climbed the flights of stairs. Quietly approaching Lily's boudoir he heard voices from inside.

“It must have been you two enspelled him! He was almost recovered when I left, and he will be in a very unpleasant mood. I have come here to warn you," said Udu. “Now I advise you, Buzukkumarz, either to heal that wretch in the kitchen and cast a spell of delusion upon her so she thinks that she was drunk and hallucinating, or kill her and we will all devise a way to dispose of the body. Whatever you do, get her out of sight until we decide."

“Now,” said Udu, “while you are busy about that task, Lilaenwen and I will discuss old times.”.

Khamûl grinned at the door, how he loved proving Udu's words wrong.
"There will be no time to talk about old times Udu," he said opening the door and pointing his sword at Udu's throat.
"Three rat's in one room and no way of escape," he said loudly before turning again to Udu. "I'm disappointed in you Udu. I thought you would have been wiser. I was expecting you to lead them away from here, now I have you all trapped."

[Valandil]

Oreturion's eyes softened ever so slightly as he watched Mahtaliel go first toward the one Elf (hadn't he seen her at The Red Herring before?), and then gathering herself and departing.

Perhaps he SHOULD have asked her to dance, he thought. But just as well. As a married man, and with his wife conspicuously absent - it would do no good to give others the chance to get the wrong idea.

He went back to watching the various guests at the party - but the hosts even more so.

[Valandil]

Estelmo still sat at the table, watching the dancers. He was mostly alone, except for a glutton here and there, or a couple or two down the way, talking softly to one another, or laughing. Here he was, he thought, the old looking upon the young - and was he now at the time of his life where all he could do the rest of the way WAS to sit and watch?

He had enjoyed the dinner well enough, although he tried to be careful about the 'foreign food' - he was acquainted with much of it from all his years in Gondor, but his digestion was a whole lot different at 185 than at 85! So he had stuck mostly to the plainer dishes, with maybe a taste or two of an old favorite, hoping he wouldn't regret it.

He had certainly enjoyed the conversation. Most of it had been with Nimloth, the governor's wife. She was a fine enough lady, he thought, but had made mention several times (mostly when the governor was distracted by one of his daughters or some other matter - or very intent on whatever had been set before him) of the governor's upcoming trip to the provinces, to oversee the harvest on a few particular estates. The governor seemed a good enough man - but overworked, as so many provincial governors were. They were evidently quite proud of their daughters - and Estelmo thought how he might have been happy to squire either around in his youth - and said so (which made Miriel blush, for she had left her seat by then and come to speak with her parents). They also spoke tenderly of a young son who hadn't survived. But death was an established part of life. Each of them - the governor and his wife - also had a brother who had been lost in the War.

It was good to see the King enjoying himself this evening. Dancing all get out! First with their lovely hostess (and Estelmo had especially enjoyed speaking with her)... now SHE was a fine one! The queen-mother would certainly have no problem with her... Numenorean through-and-through, noble both in birth and in bearing, not TOO closely related, beautiful... of course. She was so sad though - and indeed had borne some tragedy of her own, with the loss of her mother. Perhaps coming to Annuminas would lift her heart. Yet truly, he thought... there was no telling how the Queen-mother would REALLY react to her. Some mothers found that no woman, however excellent she might be, was good enough for HER son!

Estelmo had watched the King dance some more, with other noble young ladies of the assembly. He somehow seemed to not manage to dance with either Miriel or Malaphel though... was he avoiding them? Oh wait... and now he was dancing with one of those Elven ladies! That piqued Estelmo's interest... almost every noble young man seemed to reach a point where they got crazy ideas about an Elven wife. He thought with a smile how happy HE would have been to have danced with one as a stripling of 60! That wasn't the Lady of Nin-in-Eilph though, now was it? No - it was her companion... where was the other? Ah - dancing with the Chancellor.

He sighed once more. It appeared that, as Estelmo had secretly hoped, getting away from his mother might be a good thing for young Valandil - if Oreturion allowed it anyway. He chuckled once more at the thought of the toast. Well... the truth had to come out someday. He had warned the queen that trying to change this custom for royal occasions would hardly keep Valandil from becoming a drunkard - and would likely lead to his embarrassment one day. Yet - now that day had come, and he had handled it well enough. Still though, there had been many a snicker and a wink among the nobles of Arnor at royal functions the past 40 years, as Valandil had taken a sip and passed the cup to those about him, as his mother had instructed him. Still... it was hard to blame her - what with how Ciryon had taken to strong drink.

It was too bad for Valandil that Isildur had not returned safe and sound from Osgiliath, along with his other sons, he thought. Of course - Valandil would not be King, or even in line for it - and Estelmo couldn't suppress his regret for the loss of his own master, Elendur. And of course Valandil had already been raised by Elves and by his mother for 10 years at the time. But it would've done the boy good to have been raised by his father, even after that. To have his older brothers about. He wouldn't be King... but he would've had more chance to learn to be a man. Well... maybe. As the youngest of four, Isildur may have left him to the care of his mother and focused on his elder sons anyway - their mother already had Arnorian daughters-in-law picked out for the elder two - and someone in mind for the third, when he came of age. Valandil would have been lost in the shuffle. No... maybe things were best as they were. Sure, Valandil had always had his mother directing his moves, but as King, he was forced to come to his own mind on things. And now... getting away, he would truly have the chance to come into his own.

He looked up once more and watched Valandil, still dancing with Rian. More like my master Elendur he is, than his other brothers Aratan and Ciryon. More like his grandfather than his father. For long, Estelmo had thought that he would live through much of the reign of the future King Elendur - as a close associate and advisor. It pained him a bit now that most of Valandil's reign he would not see.

Just one more sip of wine.

[CrazySquirrel]

Buzukkumarz was sober now, and sorely regretted helping Lilly with the spell. He always tried to remain on good terms with the Captain and the Second, and for most part it kept him out of trouble. Now he felt his good luck was running out.

Hearing Udu’s advice concerning the wench, he adjusted his sword and made for the door. But the Numenorean’s next words made him stop.

"Now," said Udu, "while you are busy about that task, Lilaenwen and I will discuss old times."

Buzukkumarz looked back at the bed. Lilly clearly approved of the idea, oh how well he knew that wanton twinkle in the green eyes…Confirming his suspicions, Lilly stretched like a cat and licked her lips with her tiny rose tongue.

Penny’s anger suddenly flared. Why was the Seventh giving orders to him, the Fifth? Buzukkumarz was not such a fool as to leave them alone upstairs! The smug tark thought he could outsmart his betters! Swift as a striking adder, Penny drew his sword and made for Udu.

The door suddenly opened and there stood Khamûl, grinning evilly, taunting words at his lips and a sword in his hand.

Buzukkumarz saw Udu grip his weapon. Lilly sat on the bed awe-stricken, all colour drained from her rosy cheeks. There was no escape.

Partly hidden from Khamul by the door, Buz lost no time. He swung his sword wide, aiming for Khamul’s neck. Any normal men would never remain in single piece after such a blow, but the Stadow of the East had that sixth sense of danger… He ducked and sprang back.

Udu advanced and took position at Penny’s right. Lilly used the moment of Khamul’s distraction to duck under the bed. Buzukkumarz hoped she would have sense enough to remain there. No such luck. Lilly could be called wanton, but she was no coward. Lilly re-emerged with a long heavy sword. Holding the hilt firmly in both hands, she stood at the ready on Penny’s left.

"You, rotting remains in a she-orc' pot, filth in an orc den… You…" Teeth bared, Lilly growled a string of orcish curses, addressing her superior, Khamul the Cruel and Terrible.

[Lotesse]

****

[Udukhaturz]

“That was a bit of a predicament,� Udu thought as he reflected upon the sword that had recently been unpleasantly threatening his neck. “The sight of Lilly in that pink peignoir distracted me long enough for Khamûl to surprise me.� He would not make that mistake again.

Udu had always thought well of Buzukkumarz, although back in the old days, he had the nasty habit of constantly reminding him that he was Fifth while Udu was only Seventh. “True friends, brave Lilaenwen and stouthearted Buzukkumarz!�

There the three of them stood in the defensive stance, swords facing towards Khamûl’s middle - Buzukkumarz in the middle, Udukhatûrz on his right and Lilaenwen on his left. The three of them united, regretfully, this time, against one of their own number!

“Khamûl,� Udu said, “do you really want to face all three of us like this? Think, man! Though we might not get the better of you, we will surely give you a sound fight! Consider our position here, which is most tenuous...� He paused as he gazed into Khamûl’s eyes, and the two of them studied each other.

“Remember, too, there is a woman downstairs who has obviously fallen under the spell of the Shadow. Shall we kill her or shall we let her live? My own opinion is to slay her and silence her forever, but I will defer to the judgment of the majority.�

[Grey_Wolf]

Lómi told Viv about the wolves and the falcon in the deserted building.

"Ok. Either we'll get them some meat or we'll feed them the corpse." said Viv.

[Rían]

The music of their second dance wound to a close, and RÃ*an parted from Valandil with some very strong but rather confused feelings. She decided she needed a little night air, and started to move towards one of the doors leading outside to the gardens.

Professor Mahtaliel caught her eye, and RÃ*an walked over to her. They chatted for a few minutes, and then the Professor bid her goodnight and left the building. "Well, that was very kind of her," thought RÃ*an. "Looks like I'll be able to take her class! That should be a pleasure - it's always fun to learn from a teacher who loves her subject."

She paused for a moment, watching the professor leave swiftly through the ornate doors, when suddenly she was bumped from behind.

[Gordis]

Aiwendis danced again. With the Governor of Tharbad, Azrabel, this time. He was telling her something about his daughters and a trip he would be making soon, but Aiwendis stopped listening long ago. The King was still dancing with Rian.

Finally the dance ended. While Aiwendis was engaged in polite exchange with Azrabel, trying to get away from him, the King bowed to the Elf, and left the dancing floor. Soon, after many smiles and curtseys, Aiwendis was able to follow.

Valandil was standing alone near the window, seemingly trying to rearrange his sword and his clothes. Then he turned, and started to look around, most probably looking for someone. That was the right moment.

Aiwendis started in his direction, when the King suddenly found the one he sought. Coming in through the garden doors was Earniel the Elf. King Val rushed forward and bowed before her.

Aiwendis stopped, uncertain what to do next.
In her head she heard the Chancellor’s cold laugher " Well, my dear, no luck again?"

[Willow Oran]

Mahtaliel walked across the campus briskly, passing by the darkened buildings that on the morrow would begin to swarm with students. While most of the students had registered, none had yet moved in to their rooms on campus. That would begin in the morning.

She made her way past the Campus' north gate to the three buildings that she had long ago claimed as her realm. The largest of the three was the L-shaped home of the classrooms and galleries, that building was locked tight tonight, awaiting the start of classes.
Beside it, across a stretch of grass and up against the wall were two smaller buildings. The one had begun as a communal kitchen, built in the days when this part of the campus was residential. She had converted most of it to suit the needs of her more practical classes. The more public buildings were ill-suited to smith-work. She had kept parts of the old kitchen intact, it was useful. She often worked in the forge overnight, and during the school year students occaisionally needed to spend long hours on projects in there.
Directly next to the forge was the old gatehouse that she had taken as her residence and office. It was to this building she went first.

Unlocking the door she stepped inside the darkened room. Not bothering to light the lamps, it took her only a minute to change out of her formal dress, and into her work-cloths. She folded her dress neatly and placed it in her cloths basket.
Back out the door, she walked along the walkway that ran parallel to the wall connecting her home to the workshop. There were lanterns along the walkway and these she did light.
Finally, with a sigh of relief she reached and entered the workshop. Immediately she pumped life back into the fire in the forge and, picking out a particularily battered piece of armor, began to work.

[Earniel]

Eärniel had not been really paying attention when she re-entered the hall. And when suddenly the King materialised before her and asked her for a dance, it took her a moment to remember the reception again. Dancing might take the scene at the fountain of her mind for a moment.

"Why yes," she said and extended her hand to him to lead her to the dance floor.

"Although perhaps you wish to lay down your sword first. It seems to hinder you somewhat during dancing," she remarked.

"Ah, I think I can manage," said the King. And to his credit, he didn't blush much.

The music started and Eärniel had to admit King Valandil was a very able dancer. Clearly his education in Imladris had not been wasted.

[Serenoli]

Jas was in a strange mood. After having two bottles of wine, he was pleasantly drunk, and feeeling unusually brave. He decided to ask Mahtaliel for a dance, and Bumbledore encouraged him, so he set off looking for her.

He found her near the doors, talking to some lady - he didn't notice who it was. He made a beeline for her, but suddenly, she turned and made off, out the doors. Momentarily unnerved, he followed her without thinking, and also without looking... next moment, he had bumped hard against someone. It was an Elvish lady - the one Mahtaliel had been talking to. He hardly looked at her, only mumbled some apology, and set off in the direction his lady-love had taken.

He didn't know what he would say if he reached her... but the brief glance he had of her face as she left showed her to be intensely preoccupied, anxious and worried. And that had left him with a feeling of foreboding so strong, he could not resist walking out after her.

[Rían]

"Oh!", exclaimed RÃ*an, and turned around to see who had bumped her. It was one of the professors that she hadn't formally met yet. He mumbled a vague, rather distracted apology, and followed Prof. Mahtaliel out of the room.

She turned back and scanned the dancers to see who Valandil was currently dancing with. "Not that I really care or anything...", she tried to convince herself. He was dancing with her friend, and they made a lovely couple - moving in perfect accordance with the music, talking and smiling happily together. RÃ*an wondered if her friend liked any of the men of Nîn in Eilph...

She decided to walk out into the garden, and went out through the closest door. The stars were lovely tonight, and RÃ*an had to fight the urge to climb up the nearest tree (lovely smooth bark!) to get closer to them. She contented herself with putting a hand on the tree trunk and peering up through the leaves as they made ever-changing frames around the bright stars. Her mind went back to the note she had received earlier today - she wished she had thought to ask the young man about who had given him the horse and the note to give to her, but she was so surprised that she wasn't really thinking straight, and besides, she thought the note would explain it all. But it only raised questions - it didn't answer them.

[Valandil]

Eärniel seemed surprised to see him standing right before her, but she quickly recovered and graciously responded, "Why yes," and extended her hand to him to lead her to the dance floor, adding "Although perhaps you wish to lay down your sword first. It seems to hinder you somewhat during dancing,"

"Ah, I think I can manage," replied Valandil, controlling the urge to blush - and not wishing to set this sword aside from direct contact with him until he had managed to learn its own mysteries.

So he reached forth and took her hand, amazed to think how this moment had come... when he should take the hand of Eärniel, Lady of Nin-in-Eilph, of whom so many wondrous and mysterious tales are told. Time seemed to slow down and he wondered what it would be like. Finally, their hands touched, and he found her hand to be... WET!

The music started just then and Valandil drew Eärniel closer to him as they began to dance. He was glad of the instruction he had take in Elven Dancing at Imladris, it served him well now.

He struggled to think of something clever to say, and finally he hit upon an association: 'water sports' - 'wet hands'...

"So," he asked nonchalantly, "What kinds of water sports do the Elves of Nin-in-Eilph play? And what sort does their Lady especially enjoy?" He wondered though if there was some hidden meaning behind the Elven use of the term 'water sports' - with how Rian and Eärniel had winked at one another at first mentioning it before.

So they talked for awhile and they danced, but after a bit, Eärniel's eyes began to look troubled as she tried to look over Valandil's shoulder and found she would instead have to look around him, or wait until they had turned. * And then her eyes would follow... someone - it was as though someone were walking across the room and she was watching their progress. The more she watched - perhaps the further that 'someone' went - the more anxious she seemed to grow.

Then all at once she stopped dancing and said abruptly with an ever so slight nodding bow of her head, "I am sorry to end this in mid-dance, King Valandil, but I must be away."

And before Valandil could say another word, she was off. He turned in silence to watch her go - seeing that she walked swiftly - with the same focused determination she had exhibited when he had stopped her, headed right back for the doors to the garden, where she had just come in from. 'Odd' - he thought. 'I wonder what is so compelling about that garden' and began to walk slowly in that direction.

And then, just before he reached the doors to the garden, someone stepped in front of him. It was the beautiful Aiwendis... funny how she seemed even more beautiful than he had noticed before.

"My Lord King," she said with a deep curtsey, and inclined head - and then she rose to her full height. "The reception draws to its conclusion. Would the guest-of-honor render due honor to his hostess with this evening's final dance?"

Valandil was only a little surprised. The world and its customs were changing quickly, but it was a new thing to have a lady ask HIM to dance. He found it intriguing though, and did not wish to dishonor her with a refusal... certainly not THIS lady! He smiled and said that the greater pleasure, and the greater honor, would be entirely his own.

Valandil reached forth to take Aiwendis' hand once more (it was not wet, but it seemed a bit chilled - perhaps this dance could warm her, he thought), and led her onto the dance floor, and all the guests who remained slowly began to leave off from their own dancing, to gather in a great circle and watch the last dance of the evening - of King Valandil and Lady Aiwendis.

* OOC EDIT: Please note that I have added King Valandil's height to his bio in the Formal Information Thread.

[Grey_Wolf]

In the forests, far west of Tharbad, a pair of Lynxes were stealthily moving through night.

Black Tip and Long Whiskers were on, what is called in Lynxese, the Great Prowl.

[Gordis]

"My fair Lady, the greater pleasure, and the greater honor, would be entirely my own." The King bowed deeply before Aiwendis, and led her onto the dance floor. Feeling relief and a sort of gratitude, Aiwendis put her hand in his. Valandil's hand was strong, gentle and surprisingly warm. "I have not touched mortals for a long time, or just didn’t take notice…"

A step and a turn, another step and a spin. His gaze felt warm, as was his hand. Guests swirled around in colourful background, yet the King only had eyes for her. Aiwendis felt his eyes on her face, as she felt the rays of the sun … on her eyes, her lips, her ears. Her porcelain ears, so tiny, so perfectly rounded, so unusual, so unlike the pointed ears of Earniel he was admiring a minute ago…

"My lady!" he whispered. Why was his voice so breathless? "

Aiwendis turned her head to him, graceful as a swan, her eyes expectant. But the King lost all words, drowning in her grey-blue eyes. "It is a good thing women do not always effect me so!"

"My lady!" he managed to continue, "Exquisite are the flowers of Elenna…"

Finally! Aiwendis smiled tenderly. "I have not failed my Lord". The King’s strong arms held her gently, yet possessively. The sword of Isildur got in the way again, but they didn’t care. This was their dance now. "…My precious jewel, the future queen of my lands to rule"

A step and a turn, another step and a spin. Neither one noticed the knowing smiles on the faces of those who watched them.

The music faded, the dance ending too soon. He lifted her hand to kiss the palm, feeling great loss.

[Earniel]

Eärniel felt slightly guilty of breaking the dance off so suddenly. She knew well the King had been looking forward to it (and he had been a very able dancer), but she had come to Tharbad to prevent the people of Tharbad from taking too much of an interest in Nîn-In-Eilph; and as far as she concerned that included the Lady of the marches as well. There would be more than enough young and pretty women dying to dance with the King of the realm to make him forget her swift departure. Still, she couldn't help but feel some guilt.

But mostly she had cut the dance short because her discovery at the fountain still burdened her mind and the dance had been unable to dispell those concerns. She had to talk to RÃ*an about it, and preferably tonight, before her friend left the reception.

She found RÃ*an in the garden. Eärniel couldn't help herself but smile: RÃ*an was already checking out new trees to climb, that much she hadn't changed during the many years they had been apart.

"Eärniel, back so soon?" RÃ*an asked surprised when she caught sight of her friend. "I would have thought the High King wouldn't have settled for at least a dance or two." She added with a wink.

"I fear I've left him rather suddenly on the dance floor," Eärniel replied. "Yet I'm certain he will not have the time to feel lonely. But I wanted to ask you something before you left tonight."

Eärniel informed RÃ*an about what happened earlier at the fountain in the garden.

"What I wanted to ask you," Eärniel said after she had finished relayed the previous events," is whether you know if the Edain always possessed such powers. You have walked among them more often than I in the last yén."

"I find your question hard to answer, Eärniel," RÃ*an said thoughtfully. "I had always assumed those of the line of Elros could possess those skills, but not all, and over the many years the skills should have waned. I know of none now that could do the spell at the fountain."

"Hm, the answer is more troubling than my question. But thank you anyway, RÃ*an."

The two Elves said goodbye and went their seperate ways home.

[Serenoli]

Ahead of him, Jas Fernik could discern the figure of the elf slowly fading into the darkness. With sure, quick steps, Mahtaliel made her way, back across the University grounds to her home beside the Forge.

He had only followed her a few yards when reason caught up with his senses, or perhaps it was the biting chill of the night air which made him sober again. He suddenly found that if he once did catch up with Mahtaliel, he would have nothing to say to her anyway. Or any rate, he would not be able to.

He sighed and turned away. Perhaps he should follow her example and go home - he felt too old for such festivities, and he had already had too much to drink.

And so he directed his steps down the road that led back to his home. He debated as to going back, and taking his leave first, but other than Bumbledore, he was sure no one would miss him much, and even old Bumble had the pie-throwing to distract him.

A sudden voice from the darkness around him broke in upon his thoughts.
"What is the way to the Chancellor's house?" - the voice was good-humored, polite and cold.

Jas looked around ,and was suddenly aware that the road behind him was blocked by a large, looming, dark figure. The man, whoever he was, was hooded and cloaked, and Jas could not make out his face. He had not heard anyone coming, and that was made even more surprising by the fact that the stranger led a black horse on his side. Surely, he should at least have heard the hooves?

A moment of silence and surprise later, he found his voice, and replied," You go straight down this road and then left at the junction, and the house will be the big one to your right. But you will not find him there. They're having a reception of the young King Valandil tonight at the Main Hall yonder, and the Chancellor is there. But who are you, that you do not know all this already? You are not from Tharbad..."

"No, I am not from these parts." With these abrupt words, the stranger mounted his horse and rode away past Jas. And this time, Jas could hear them clearly, the hooves of the horse going clippety-clop on the smooth gravel road.

He shook his head, walked home in silence, and once upstairs fell fast asleep.

[Rían]

As she walked back to Orrodel (mindful of her employers' quick tempers, RÃ*an had asked the blacksmith to keep Hwesta until she found out if the mare could be stabled at Orrodel, and the blacksmith, grateful to her for employing two of his sons, had been glad to grant her request) RÃ*an thought over what Eärniel had told her. RÃ*an may not have been the sharpest tool in the shed, but she was a good ponderer, and after things sat for awhile on the back burner, she usually came to some pretty astute conclusions. As a man of Gondor would say many years in the future, those who do not lie are not easily deceived. Perhaps he heard that expression from the elves.

Elves are known for, among other things, the light in their eyes. Eyes are important to them, and they can read much from the eyes of others. Tradition has it that "the Eldar can read at once in the eyes and voice of another whether they be wed or unwed." She had watched the young King out of a natural curiosity in the early part of the evening, noting, among other things, his clear, bright eyes (the Elven blood seemed to run strongly in him). Yet, by the end of the evening, he seemed different - his eyes were harder to read - they were ... she shook her head, she couldn't put a word to what she had seen - clouded, veiled - no, more like unnaturally bright, like when a sickness gives a bright color to a person's cheeks that both mimics and mocks the bloom of real health. And they were more like the eyes of an animal who acted by instinct, rather than a man with a fëa (spirit) who makes choices.

Thinking about these things as she turned a corner on the road, she was suddenly brought up short as a man's voice came from the darkness, inquiring, "My lady RÃ*an, why do you not ride your horse on this lovely evening?"

[Rían]

RÃ*an's body froze, except for her heart, which was pounding so painfully in her chest that she gasped for air. The speaker stepped out from under the night-shadow of the trees, his eyes flashing in the dark. He smiled, walking towards her slowly, waiting for her to recognize him. “Alagos?â€� she whispered, not daring to believe her eyes.

“RÃ*an!â€� he cried, and ran to embrace his long-lost sister. He held her close, murmuring the little endearments that they had always shared between them. She was shaking uncontrollably now, with joy and astonishment and sheer incredulity. “RÃ*an, my sister, my sweet,â€� he said softly, rocking her gently. “I’m back. Shhh, now, don’t cry, little bird,â€� for the shaking had stopped as the tears had started.

“Alagos, Alagos, I thought you were dead, I thought you were dead,� was all she could choke out between sobs.

“And I thought you were dead, my sister, for many long years, until I heard someone talking about a lovely elven maiden he had seen in a far-away country who loved to climb trees, and sometimes fell out of them, in a most un-elven-like manner!� he laughed tenderly, holding her even closer to his heart and kissing the top of her head. “Then we started looking for you again, and vowed we would never stop until we found you.�

RÃ*an was too emotional to notice his use of the word “weâ€�. All she could think about was that she had her big brother back. “Oh, Alagos, I’ve missed you so,â€� she said softly, as she nestled in his arms.

"And I, you, my sister," he answered, as he wondered what type of reception his friend would receive...

[Grey_Wolf]

As to not starv to death Lomi and a couple of pals of hers came along with some rodents and mice which the grateful wolves woolfed down.

[Butterbeer]

Boomerang having enjoyed watching the new king quickly endear himself to the local customs and party-spirit of the fabled University ... by dancing with many many beautiful ladies ... Boom had flown out of the reception and been greeted urgently by messengers numerous ... what was this? An attempt on his un-life? By Ariel! who was behind this?

reports had very quickly followed that a buzzard had gone rogue and swiftly been downed permanently ... and that the the Mountain Guild of predators were sending representitives into Tharbad (this did not suprise him ... until he heard that old Falco himself was here - ah! falco, a notable lord of air indeed ... he must let Wise-whit and Lomi know at once, he thought ...)

word must go to ALL the lords of Air and indeed to the Grand Alliance in the west .... after all the butterflies existed at the highest tables through their alliances and swift news gathering ... let it be the butterflies that brought the news to their allies first!

Beautiful Boomerang quickly took in the most urgent news ... quickly curtailing messengers that were not immediately crucial ... calling a protection wing (just in case) and flying urgently off with an urgent call to the wings to send out the fastest flyers he winged it towards White patch and his pack .... they must be welcomed to Tharbad and received with honour as was their due ...

The game was afoot.... he thought .... tommorow i must talk in private with the nazgul Lord .... another had apparently arrived ...though he had but sensed his arrival vaguely.

.... Two new elves had entered the City too, yet he knew no more .... only one nazgul had not yet answered the call .... "ilmenzor" had a mind virtually impossible to fathom ... was he happy to see virtually all the nine here and now? Beautiful Boom was unsure .... still he thought, as he flew madly onwards ... he was certain of one thing - the Nazgul lord could make no sense of his Butterfly mind either .... HAH! ... how would these plans within plans pan out? In conjunction or at odds?


... truly, .... it was in the air!

[Rían]

Tyaron kept fiddling with the clasp on his dagger sheath. Flick it open and pull out the dagger in one swift, silent motion; put it back - again and again, over and over. He toyed with the idea of tossing it at the tree across the way, but he didn't want to make any noise to disturb the reunion of the brother and sister who loved each other so dearly. He could just faintly make out the figures of his friend and his love, and on occasion hear their voices, when the wind was kind enough to puff them his way. He hated waiting, but like the good hunter he was, he knew waiting was essential.

He had tracked and conquered a lot of prey in his life, but the slender half-elven maiden was proving to be more difficult quarry than any he had yet sought. Sometimes, with a wry smile, he toyed with the idea of treating her as he did his other quarry - skillfully track her down, stealthily sneak up on her, grab her silently from behind, and instead of slitting her throat, he'd kiss her, and suddenly she'd love him - but he knew love cannot be forced. And her love was worth any price to him, so he waited.

The problem with waiting for RÃ*an was that she herself didn't know what she wanted. She wanted something - that much was evident - but she hadn't found it yet, or even quite figured out what it was she wanted. He had made several attempts to move their relationship beyond close family friends to lovers, but she had rebuffed each one - always in sorrow for the obvious hurt he suffered, but also in true perplexity - and the last time, with a bit of irritation, too! He could understand how she might be perplexed about some things, for he knew their family well, and loved their human father, and truly grieved over his death, and he could see how a union of two such differing cultures could leave the children of the union with some things to think about and figure out. But Alagos had seemed to come to terms with his heritage, so what was taking her so long?

He was in frequent contact with her because of his close friendship with her brother, so he decided he would just wait for her to figure things out (the elves of Gondolin thought their city would be around as long as Arda, so he thought he had plenty of time), and eventually his love (and hunter's patience) would win him the prize of her love. He was a very gentle man, because he was a truly strong man, and he thought it unmanly to force anything on a woman. His eyes let her know that he still loved her, and he knew she read his eyes, for sometimes she would look down in confusion and be at a sudden loss for words when they were talking. So his eyes kept speaking to her, while he waited for the time when she was ready for him to tell her of his love in words.

Then came the Fall of Gondolin - and he had told her of his love for what he thought would be the last time in this world. He had thought he saw a flicker of awakening love in her eyes, but he couldn't stay any longer to find out. Then came that terrible battle at the fountains, and the fall of the noble Ecthelion, and Alagos horribly wounded by the whip of the Balrog. Then came the fall of the tower of King Turgon, and the city was lost, and they fled from the city, Tyaron carrying Alagos as best he could. They were separated from the main group in the mists, because Tyaron had to keep stopping to tend to Alagos's wounds, and in his grief he didn't even care if they were separated from the main group or not, for he thought they all faced certain death on the plains. All he wanted at this point was to stay with Alagos - his brother in all but blood, and the brother of the one he loved with all his heart - and die together, if that be their fate.

They had eventually made their way though the blinding mists to a small stream in a rugged forest, where Tyaron saw they had to stop at once and go no farther if his friend was to have any chance at life. Alagos was in a burning fever, and the only thing that seemed to recall him out of his fever and delirium was the soothing coolness of Ulmo's blessed waters, and the beautiful songs that Tyaron would sing softly to him for hours on end, stopping only for an occasional hasty search for food when Alagos seemed better than usual.

The fever, however, continued unabated for weeks, and indeed worsened, until Tyaron in desperation decided to take his dagger and open up one of the wounds that seemed to not be healing as well as the others, for there was nothing to lose at this point, and everything to gain. He cut deeply, intending to excise the afflicted flesh, thinking that perhaps it was infected, until he noticed a small bit of metal embedded deep in Alagos' flesh. He removed it with the blade of his dagger and threw it into the stream. To his amazement, he saw the water roil up in anger as the metal turned a bright red, and then slowly calm down as the metal disintegrated in Ulmo's waters. Alagos stirred, and then opened his eyes and looked upon his friend for the first time since the battle at the fountain. Tyaron bent over him, weeping with joy, and his tears washed the wound and, unbeknownst to him, aided its healing.

They stayed long in the woods, and soon it was Alagos' turn to take care of Tyaron, for Tyaron's exertions and grief had weakened him so much that he fell prey to a fever that was ravaging the area. When they had both recovered their bodily strength, they began to think of searching to see if any others had survived the Fall. The first news they finally received, after long years of wandering, was the worst news possible. A wandering elf from Gondolin that they had come across had thought he remembered RÃ*an as one of those who had died on the flight from the city. There was no other family member left for either of them now, and they headed back to the stream where they had first found healing. Many long years passed - sometimes they wandered the wide earth, and sometimes they stayed at the stream - and then one day, they came across someone who had definitely known RÃ*an, and moreover, had SEEN her, about 200 years ago. The hunt started again in earnest. She was difficult to find, because she herself often went into seclusion in the quiet places of the forest, but eventually they had found her.

He flicked his dagger out again and tested the edge on his thumb. How long were they going to talk?

[Rían]

RÃ*an's weeping finally slowed down to an occasional sniff, and Alagos released his tight hold on his sister. Setting her back just a bit, so he could look at her face, he said, “RÃ*an, I want to hear your whole tale some day soon, and I want to tell you mine. But now, there is another who waits to see you again – the one who gave you Hwesta, and sent that note to you, and the one to whom I owe my life, for he carried me out of the wreck of Gondolin and nursed me back to health. Tyaron is here, RÃ*an. His noble heart made him insist that you meet me, your brother, first. He awaits us under that tree at the top of the ridge. Let us not make him wait any longer.â€�

Seeing the mixed emotions chasing each other across his sister’s face, he asked her gently, “My sister, have you still not come to love him, he who has loved you so faithfully for so long?â€� He looked at her searchingly, but RÃ*an was unable to answer – thoughts of her dance with Valandil kept coming into her head. But luckily for her, she didn’t have to come up with an answer, as her brother suddenly exclaimed, “But what am I thinking? You only just found out that he is alive! We have known that you were alive for a long time now, but you’ve only just found out that we’re alive! I’m sorry, no wonder you’re confused and distraught! Well, let us go to him now, for he has waited many a long year to see you again.â€�

He had his private worries about the meaning behind RÃ*an's facial expressions, and they didn’t make him very happy, but he decided to not mention them out loud, knowing her tendency to dig in her heels and fight when pushed to go a direction that she didn’t want to go. He decided it was safer, at this point in time, to pretend to attribute them to some natural and very understandable emotions upon seeing two whom she knew and loved (to varying degrees) alive again, after so many years.

They walked over to the tree on the ridge. Tyaron stood up slowly, every muscle in his body on alert – and waited.

[Udukhaturz]

“Khamûl,� Udu hissed, “though we might be rats caught in a trap, I would wager to say that the balances have turned more to our favor. Though your Ring be of greater power, you face now the combined might of three swords and all our powers of magic. Do you wish to experiment to see what the results of that might be?�

Udu noted that Lilly, even though she was still tipsy, was holding the hilt of her sword with firm determination. He thought he detected that her eyes had a reddish fire to them.

“Khamûl, we do have the right to protect ourselves from you. I am not afraid of you. Consider carefully that you might be injured in the fray. Now why do you not sheath your sword and we could talk? After all, there is still the problem of that bespelled woman downstairs.�

Udu intoned a few words and began willing Khamûl to drop his sword. It was obvious to him that Khamûl would read his mind and know exactly what he was doing. Hoping that Khamûl was distracted, Udu then quickly raised his left hand slightly and from the tip of his forefinger a beam of light shot forth and flickered about Khamûl’s own sword.

“Remember! Too much of this and the whole city will be alerted! Perhaps we should go outside of the city walls and settle this,� Udu challenged.

[Gordis]

"Don't you worry, tark rat, there won't be too much of THIS", Khamul's evil grin widened. The ring on his finger suddenly blased with white fire.

Udu dropped his hand, the light of his ring extinguished. Buz cried out as pain shot through his right hand and his sword fell to the floor.

Lilly wailed in frustration, dropping her blade as well.

"Now my pathetic little rats", said Khamul advancing, "I will teach you MANNERS"

[Lotesse]

When she returned to Orrodel from the Reception Ball and Dinner, Viniglaen did not go upstairs to speak with her family. Instead, she chose to take her new mare Laslech for a midnight walk; and, calling for Lomi to join her, the three of them entered the night of Tharbad. Presently they came upon a pack of wolves, to whom Lomi and Viv gave a welcoming gift of rodents which Lomi had found. The owl and the wolves took counsel for a while together, while Viv rested in a reverie nearby. Laslech stood next to her, where she lay in the deep, fragrant grass, hands clasped at her waist, head propped on her folded-up riding cloak, gazing at the stars and lost in bittersweet thought.

[Butterbeer]

Boomerang, guided by 'Admiral' Flutterby and flanked by two eagles sent by Cruel claw descended towards the deserted house which lay close to the eastern end of the citywall...

ah! the sharp eyes of the eagles noticed the mountain wolves were already attended by Lomi, and her nazgul companion lay by a magnificient horse nearby ... just out of scent and sight of the wolves ...

They hovered while the larger eagle flew to the nearby farm and brought back a small Lamb, fresh blood still dripping from his claws ...

beautiful boom annouced by the eagle's cry descended and met lomi and white patch, bringing the fresh meat as a welcome gift from the Tharbad Guild...

[Grey_Wolf]

White Patch, Old Grey, and the remainder of the Pack which had also entered the city through the deserted building, upon meeting the Eagles were delighted at the bounty of the lamb which they devoured thankfully.

Lomi and her Nazgul companion proceeded to escort the Alpha Pair and the Pack further into the City.

[CrazySquirrel]

Wailing like a banshee, Lilly staggered away from Khamul, almost knocking down a washstand on her way. The washstand... There was a basin full of soapy water that Lilly first used to wash her face and hands and then to cool Khamul's molded wax figure.

...Water... Khamul feared water. Maybe not some dirty water in a basin, but still... Lilly remembered the Easterling's abject terror at crossing streams and rivers. When the Nine had to do it, they always had to place Khamul right in the middle of a boat, and he moaned pitifully and muttered something along the lines of "I want my mom"...

Bending double, Lilly stole a glance at Khamul. The Second's burning red eyes were riveted to Udu, the only one of the three who still had a sword in his hand. Khamul's left arm was raised high, the Ring blazing evilly.

Gripping the basin with both hands, Lilly sent the water flying at Khamul's head. The stream of dirty water hit Khamul's head, though the following basin magically stopped in mid-air and disintegrated in tiny sharp fragments.

Khamul and Lilly wailed together, Lilly out of pure glee.

But Lilly's mirth was short lived. A mysterious force lifted her and flung to the floor. She found she could neither breathe, nor move.

[Rían]

As they walked towards Tyaron, RÃ*an decided that it would be best to greet him warmly, but with dignified restraint. She didn't want to give him any false encouragement, after all. Again, her mind flashed back to her dance with the King, and his scent and what it meant to her, and the way he held her possessively against his body. As they approached the ridge, she could just make out Tyaron's form against the stars, and her heart skipped a beat. Understandable - after all, he was a very old and dear family friend.

She saw his face: all thoughts of dignified restraint flew out the window as she ran into the outstretched arms of her old and dear friend.

"RÃ*an, RÃ*an," he cried as he held her close. "Oh, aiwen, we thought you were dead for so many years ...", and suddenly found that he couldn't continue.

"Oh, Tyaron, it's so wonderful to see you again!" she said joyfully. "Restraint, RÃ*an!" she admonished herself, as he started to run his fingers through her hair with just a touch more ardor than is appropriate for a old and dear family friend. Pulling away from him slightly, she smiled up into his familiar face and said, with just a touch of formal politeness, "Our family owes you so much, and now I find that my brother owes his very life to you! I thank you from the bottom of my heart!"

Tyaron slowly released her and took a step back. Even in the light of the stars, she could see his face turn gray, and the light go out of his eyes. "You are very welcome, RÃ*an - I am always glad to be of service to your family."

RÃ*an could have kicked herself for hurting him, but what was she supposed to do? She couldn't encourage him if she didn't love him, and finally, after all these years, she thought she may have found what she was looking for in the human King who had elven blood flowing in his veins. She turned her eyes down, away from his face, and a glint of silver caught her eye. She noticed with surprise that Tyaron was wearing a silver ring on his right index finger - the customary ring indicating a betrothal, worn on the finger that would bear the golden wedding band at the end of the betrothal period.

"Are you betrothed, Tyaron?" she asked in astonishment, for this didn't make sense after what Alagos had mentioned just a few minutes ago.

"On my part, I am; on the part of the lady - no," he answered quietly.

"What he is too modest to say," interrupted Alagos, "is that more than one young lady has found him very desirable," and here he gave RÃ*an a stern look - "so he took to wearing the engagement ring so they wouldn't get their hopes up, since his heart is as steadfast as ever towards you."

"Oh...." she trailed off, not knowing what to say.

"RÃ*an, is there some other man that you care for?" asked Tyaron, coming straight to the point.

"Really, this is just too much!" thought RÃ*an. "Who does he think he is?" But better to make things clear sooner than later. Sticking her chin up into the air, she answered, "Well, frankly, yes - I ... I ..." - she found it hard to talk about it when she looked in his eyes - "he is a man, but with the blood of the elves in his veins. He knows and is at home in both of the worlds that I belong to."

Tyaron considered her response for a moment and then quickly made up his mind, for at last he had a flesh-and-blood rival instead of an imaginary one.

"Alagos, I have something I would like to say to you," he said.

[Serenoli]

The stranger whom Jas encountered that night rode off in the direction indicated, all the while wondering if the obviously drunk man's directions could be trusted. He took the turning left, and cursing poor Jas inwardly, discovered they couldn't. On his right was a high wall, that he could maybe climb, but after the long journey he had undertaken, he was not at all inclined to do so. Also, there was his horse to think of. So he circled the wall slowly, looking for a way in. Finally, he went back up the lane and took the turning which went south this time.

The Main Hall that Jas had spoken of, stood now to his left. He could see carraiges outside it, he could hear merry voices and music from within. Light streamed out of every window. He had no wish to go in there.

Instead he slowly walked around the building, being careful to stay to the shadows on his right as much as possible, and leading his horse silently. For that was a gift he had, of being noiseless, matching that of the Elves. Even when he was passing in front of the entrance, which had been thrown wide open, no one noticed the stealthy figure slinking past.

He found himself at the south corner of the Hall, and before him he could see a small gate. Beyond it were visible a lawn, overshadowed by a dark, large building – the Chancellor’s Palace. He approached it cautiously, and peered over it.

The lawn spread out before him, with depressed-looking flowerbeds here and there. It was enclosed on two sides by high walls, and to his left, by the Hall. On the side facing him was the Palace, and a low wall continuous with it, which divided the garden in two. Two women stood there near a gate in this wall, the moonlight reflecting from their dresses in soft ripples. They were obviously in deep conversation, he could hear their soft voices murmuring in the night wind.

One of them turned slightly towards him, as if she sensed him there, but he drew back at once, and at the same time muttered a spell of invisibilty under his breath. Absorbed in other thoughts, she did not pay much importance to the sound she had heard. In fact, she did not even remember it the next instant.

He turned back down the lane, and at the turning, stood in indecision. He needed to see the Chancellor, but the reception would be quite the wrong place for such a meeting. He had planned to see him at his own house, but that was before he found out that hordes of Elves dwelled there as well. He wondered how Lord Ilmenzor, or even Aiwendis, could tolerate their presence.

Finally, he did the easiest thing. He left the decision-making to someone else.

He went back the way he had come to the Rath Aran, and sat in the darkness in the lane that Jas had told him to take, and there, he tied his horse to a tree. He took out his ring and willed his mind to make contact:

My Lord, it is I, Tolvadok. I have arrived in Tharbad, but do not find you. What do you order?

[Rían]

"At last, at last!" Tyaron thought triumphantly, as RÃ*an and Alagos dropped the argument they were starting and turned to stare at Tyaron in wonder, for had spoken in a very formal tone of voice. "At last I can stop fighting shadows!" As long as his rivals were only imaginary, all he COULD do was wait; now that there was finally a real rival, all the fighting blood rose up in him, and he swore he would win her or go down in flames trying. He was DONE with waiting.

"Alagos, you are the eldest surviving member of your family, and as such, you are the head of your family. What I have to say to you, I say to you as head of your family."

RÃ*an and Alagos, despite their curiosity and wonder, listened quietly and respectfully, for like the Hobbits, elves have a great respect for formality and traditions, especially those involving family. This was exactly what Tyaron was counting on.

Tyaron put his right hand on his breast, and spoke in an even more formal tone. "Alagos, as head of thy family, I ask thee to grant this my boon: I ask thee to grant to me thy permission to court thy sister, the Lady RÃ*an."

They both blinked at him for a moment, wondering if they heard right. Alagos the quick-witted (fortunately) was first to recover.

"Tyaron, thy boon I grant full willing, and give thee both my permission and my blessing to court my sister, the Lady RÃ*an," he answered in the well-known words, trying (fairly successfully) to suppress the grin that wanted to spread from ear to ear, for he knew that his sister would have trouble getting out of this one (and he truly wanted them to marry, thinking it best for both of them).

RÃ*an had so many words that wanted to explode out that they all collided and none of them made it past her lips. She stood there in astonishment, still blinking, with her mouth open, but unable to make a sound. How dare he ask for permission to court her?! How DARE he?! He knew full well that it was a quaint tradition to ask permission of the head of the family, and it was only done after the couple was all but engaged. And they were certainly NOT all but engaged! But Tyaron had seen an opening in her armor and went for it with all the tenacity and resourcefulness he had. He had noticed that the closer she was to him, the less firm her resolve to not like him seemed to be (and he also saw that she knew this!), and so he made up his mind to be as close to her as possible, whether she liked it or not.

"I thank thee, Alagos, for thy grace in granting my boon, and I give thee my word of honor that I will court thy sister, the Lady RÃ*an, with gentleness, courtesy, and honor," said Tyaron, closing out the formalities.

RÃ*an clenched her fists and, having lost her temper, found her tongue. "Alagos! How can you DO that! You KNOW I don't love him! Take it back!"

Alagos replied with a commendably straight face, "I'm sorry, RÃ*an, but it's too late - I've already given my permission."

She glared at him in fury, then turned to Tyaron. "HOW can you do this, after what I just told you? I refuse to let you court me!"

Tyaron said quietly but with steely resolve, "I didn't ask you, RÃ*an, I asked the head of your family."

[Earniel]

After checking that Nardol indeed had come to collect Palensulë to take her back to the pastures in Nîn-In-Eilph, Eärniel walked home in a brisk pace. Luckily her lodgings were not far from the university and the evening air was not cold yet.

She was singing softly and was already halfway before she even realised she was singing. The Fountains of Gondolin. She smiled to herself. Oh, yes, she could definitely see why she had unconsciously started to sing that song after so long.

The Autumn wind in Gondolin weaves,
Songs of clear water and coloured leaves;
The fountain droplets fall, the leaves do too,
And mingle in the pools of marble blue.

She did miss them, those fountains, more than she had realised until now. The fountain in the university gardens had certainly woken some memories. But it was understandable, Eärniel had not heard a fountain for many years. That was almost her only regret with living in Nîn-In-Eilph: it had no fountains. It was quite impossible to built them on the wooden pole-dwellings too, even though she had tried. Several times as well.

Eärniel still remembered Gondolin's many fountains vividly. The deep and dark fountains of the King's Court; the numberless, little, tinkling ones that were found nearly everywhere among the houses of the People of the Fountains; and the round fountain with the stone gulls that her father had built for her mother when she missed the sea.

Living in a stone city, far from the sea, had been hard on Eärniel's mother and Eärniel's father had built her a fountain to ease the loss. A fountain that was never silent and sounded like the waves of the sea breaking on cliffs. It had been an amazing piece of craftswork. Eärniel remembered it fondly too. She recalled how she had played there many times; balancing on the border, often falling in as well. And how her older sister Dinwen always played The Fountains of Gondolin on her flute while sitting next to fountain, under the wisteria.

The winter cold bites in glorious Gondolin,
But no fountain sleeps to rise in Spring.
Drops of spray in the icicles caught,
Among the bassins rainbows were wrought.

Still singing softly, Eärniel entered her lodgings and closed the door behind her.

[Gordis]

At last it was obvious that the potion was working properly. The Chancellor observed the King and Aiwendis dancing, oblivious to the world around them. Very well. Aiwendis obviously stopped fretting and started to play her role in earnest. The Chancellor smiled and turned to the last figure remaining at the table. The old commerce professor Bumbledore always preferred his bottle to the dances.

The Chancellor started to walk in his direction, when he felt a familiar warmth radiating from the invisible diamond Ring at his finger. One of his brethern was trying to contact him. The Morgul Lord concentrated and percieved a voice, faint with distance, but unmistakable:

"My Lord, it is I, Tolvadok. I have arrived in Tharbad, but do not find you. What do you order?"

Another one. Frowning slightly, the Chancellor slowly turned his head. The voice was coming from the North, not far, from within the University walls. Sending his senses in this direction, the Morgul Lord perceived a figure sitting in a deserted lane. A black horse was tied nearby.

Channelling and shielding his thought carefully, the Morgul Lord sent his reply:

"Go to the North Gate. There are stables on the left. Put your horse there. Then, go to the East Gate, there is an entrance to the Palace garden. Circle the Palace and wait there near the fountain. I shall call you later, when I am alone."

The Chancellor continued to the table. Bumbledore sat hunched in his chair, having several empty bottles for a company. Smiling, the Chancellor touched his shoulder lightly. Bumble looked up and smiled back somewhat vaguely.

"Sir Bumbledore, I see you enjoy the evening. Was the wine to your liking? If so, my wine cellar is entirely at your disposal. This year you are having a heavier load of students than usual. Your salary will be increased accordingly. If you need something, please don’t hesitate to ask."

[Valandil]

The music came slowly to an end, and Valandil practically had to jar himself to remember to give Aiwendis a final bow, as she curtseyed to him, both blushing ever so slightly as they straightened up, holding both of one another's hands at arm's length, and the spectators began to applaud the noble couple.

The next several moments were a blur for Valandil. Oreturion had come to his side as he and Aiwendis had finally released their lingering hold on one another, farewells had been said all around and then the King made his departure, Oreturion just a half step behind him, on his right and Estelmo and Marty trailing after. Their carriage was waiting just outside the door and soon they were all four back inside and on their way.

"Well Val," said Marty, "wasn't it you who advised ME to be careful of entanglements?" and then he broke into a laugh. "YOU were sure a sight this evening - dancing with all those women, including the 'Chancellor's Daughter'... and Elves, by Manwe!" he added, as he shook his head incredulously and then sat back in his seat, throwing his head back and shutting his eyes.

After a few moments, Oreturion added, "Master Marthalion makes a good point, Your Highness. With the odd goings-on in this place, and the sense we both have gotten ourselves, it would be adviseable for you to show a bit more... discretion, shall we say? ... in regards to public conduct."

"Besides all that," he continued, "there was something... else. I'm sure you noted from the time of our arrival that there were contrary struggles of mind and will. A very unusual activity level... and of a strength I hardly expected. And malevolent, I deem."

Valandil looked at Oreturion, curious to hear more.

"And I perceived, or thought I did, that some evil deed had been achieved this evening - for there came a point at which the mental struggle relaxed... as though going from open warfare to a guarding of borders, so to speak."

"Why then, Oreturion, did you not seek to warn me of this?" asked Valandil, his blood beginning to rise slightly.

"That is what causes my greatest concern, My Leige. At the time when I sensed the greatest tension, the time when you handled the cup to begin the banquet - I was rendered unable to contact you. It was as though..." and he paused, how unusual for him to be at a loss for the right words, thought Valandil, "It was as though my mind was kept behind a wall, which it could not pierce." and Oreturion sat silently then, a puzzled look on his face.

At that, Valandil looked troubled. He sat as though pondering something.

"A copper for your thoughts, My King?" asked Estelmo.

"Well... more than a copper coin... how about a gem?" asked Valandil, reaching into his pocket and withdrawing the topaz he had slipped there after draining the cup. "This was at the very bottom of my first drink of the evening. Interesting isn't it? It seemed an odd sort of thing, but harmless I deemed it. Do you think that harm was meant by it, Oreturion? It's hardly the thing to choke a man on... and that evil purpose was not accomplished, if it was the intent."

Oreturion had jerked himself into alertness at hearing Valandil's report. He eyed the stone curiously and asked to examine it. Valandil handed it to him, and he turned it over between his fingers, unable to gather much in the dim light of night.

"My King," he said at last, "knowest thee that it was a custom of old in Eregion - what we now call Hollin - to greet an honored guest with a gem in the bottom of his cup?" Oreturion sat back and clenched his fist about the stone. "Even the very stone used could convey a message... or something of the intent of the messenger. I must search and discover what meaning is conveyed by a topaz."

"But," asked Estelmo, somewhat exasperated, "who would revive an old custom of Hollin, in this day and age?"

"Mahtaliel," said Oreturion evenly, "was from Eregion."

[Telcontar_Dunedain]

Khamûl shrieked in agony, yet the effect of the water was short lived for it wasn't running. Even in this short moment of Khamûl's pain Penny had taken up his sword and was standing upright and Udu and retaken a position, now between Lily and Penny.
"Mt Lord Khamûl. You see that you have the better of us, and you have indeed taught us manner, as you said. Is that now not enough?" said Udu with a slight sign of desparation in his eyes.
"Why my friend?" replied Khamûl regaining his composure. "Are you not enjoying our little party? No? Well I suspect that it has taught you wisdom as well as manners."
"Wisdom?" replied Udu.
"Yes my friend wisdom, in two things. Never run into a trap with your eyes closed. And secondly, don't trust everyone. You never know who has pledged alliegence to who."
"You mean..." stuttered Udu.
"Yes. Aiwendis. She knew I was coming here, and what I would do upon arrival. It was even her who sugested what to do. It seems you have ben outdone," said Khamûl an evil grin. "My friend," he added, raising his sword in one hand and raising his Ring upon his other.

[Rían]

"I didn't ask you, RÃ*an, I asked the head of your family."

Hearing those words from Tyaron made RÃ*an clench her fists in anger and wonder if it was true what she had heard from Eärniel - that a man could be incapacitated - possibly for life - by a single hard, well-aimed kick. The trouble was, she didn't know who she was madder at, and couldn't decide who to go after first!

Alagon and Tyaron looked at RÃ*an, whose eyes were simply snapping sparks, and they both silently thanked the Valar that they were wearing their male elvish protection, as they usually did when travelling in potentially hostile territory. Their hands moved unconsciously towards their front-er regions.

Deciding that a direct physical confrontation wouldn't be worthwhile, RÃ*an turned a cold shoulder to Tyaron and appealed to her brother again. "You know this is not right, Alagos, and I certainly don't have to go along with it. Or I'll go along with it, but give my own interpretation to what 'courting' is - and isn't. Usually it just means a reasonable amount of time together, but 'reasonable' is certainly a subjective term. Tyaron knows that he is going completely against the spirit of the ritual, although not the letter of it, and I can certainly do the same!"

Alagos had sobered down and was no longer smiling. "You can certainly do what you want, my sister, but as the head of the family, I have granted a request that I think is both reasonable and good for everyone involved." His voice grew softer as he added, "And it would meant a great deal to me, RÃ*an, if you went along with it."

That was the way to appeal to RÃ*an - forcing her only made her dig in her heels and fight, but she would always consider a gentle, reasonable appeal. She was silent. The appeal to her love for her brother, and to his position as head of the family, hit her hard, as Alagos knew it would. Also, she truly cared for Tyaron and was well aware of all the good he had bestowed on her family over the years. And there was one more thing that the men were not aware of - RÃ*an's father, as he was dying, had confided to her that one of his dearest wishes was that she would marry Tyaron.

Alagos should have stopped while he was ahead, but none of us are always wise. He continued on, this time with what he thought was an appropriate head-of-family sternness in his voice, "I'm not asking you to marry him, RÃ*an, and you know it. I'm only asking you to give him a chance. You've held him at arm's length for years and years - I wish you would at least reward his love and constancy with your time, if not your hand. Stop reaching for the wind, RÃ*an, when love is right here before you."

Tyaron reached out a warning hand to stop Alagos, but it was too late.

Perhaps what happened next could best be explained by saying that RÃ*an had had a very long and emotional day.

[Rían]

RÃ*an had had a long, tiring, and very emotional day, and now to hear her brother talk like she was just some sort of prize to be handed out, without any concern at all for how she felt in the matter, pushed her over the edge.

"I am NOT a prize to be handed out!" she yelled, stomping her foot in anger. "I will NOT be treated like a little girl, with no mind of my own! And I WILL reach for the wind, if I think what I desire might be found there!"

Alagos lost his temper with his unpredictable sister. Here he was, trying to secure her happiness, and she was fighting him! "You don't know what you want, RÃ*an, that's the trouble with you!" he said angrily. "I'm just trying to help you!" But his anger died out and he regretted his hasty words as he saw the tears spring into her eyes.

RÃ*an looked around wildly - she felt like an animal cornered by hunting beasts, and wanted desperately to escape. The men weren't looking at her now - Tyaron had grabbed Alagos' shoulder and swung him around, angrily admonishing Alagos for overstepping his bounds. The tree they were under didn't have any low-hanging branches, but she spotted one fairly close by, and ran for it. Jumping up to catch the lowest branch, she quickly pulled herself up and rapidly climbed a little higher, until she had to stop and cling to the trunk because of the tears that were blinding her eyes. She shouted down through the branches to her brother, "You tell me that I'm reaching for the wind, but I don't see you married, either! Why aren't you married, brother?"

Alagos, chastened by Tyaron's talk and by his own good heart, walked slowly towards the tree with his hands reaching up towards his sister. Tyaron walked cautiously behind, alert for any problems. "I'm unmarried, RÃ*an, but not by my own choice," he said. "I have wished to marry several times since the fall of our city, but as soon as my parentage is known, they turned me down. Not all are like Tyaron and our parents, who know that the heart is more important than the outward things."

RÃ*an's anger at her brother melted away as he approached her with outstretched arms and repentant face, and her tears came welling up again. "Oh, Alagos, I'm so sorry," she said with compassion. Tyaron, afraid of what he thought might happen next, called out, "RÃ*an, be careful!" and ran as fast as he could towards the tree, but it was too late: RÃ*an, starting to climb down, missed her footing in the dark and tear-blurred tree, and fell.

[Serenoli]

Sitting under a tree he was aware of the words that came floating down the wind:
"Go to the North Gate. There are stables on the left. Put your horse there. Then, go to the East Gate, there is an entrance to the Palace garden. Circle the Palace and wait there near the fountain. I shall call you later, when I am alone."

He got up to do as he was told. The other Nazgul would probably not be so obedient as he was... not now that the downfall of Sauron had set them, to an extent, free, to da as they pleased. For him, more than for any of the others, the downfall of Sauron had been but as a death-knoll, for with Sauron's fall, his own purpose in life had vanished.

Once, long ago, when he had been the fair and beloved prince in a loved kingdom... then his purpose had been the good of his country. No one had striven as much as him. In every battle, he was at the forefront, weilding what weapon he had... be it sword, spear or axe with equal deadly skill. In every period of peace he was the most diligent in the people's welfare. Add to that the fact, that he was tall, manly in manner and appearance, and very fair to look upon... and it is easy to understand why he was the darling of the nation. In fact, it was a grief to most that he was the younger son, and thus not in line for the throne… his elder brother, though a noble man, had none of his flair or popularity.

And then had come news of the treachery of Sauron to the Elves of Eregion, and they were allies who rushed to the help of these Elves, in the ensuing battle with the Enemy. That battle was lost… but the war with Sauron continued long afterwards. Things were looking bleak when on a chance meeting, a fortune-teller gave him a good-luck charm, a small ring, made of a black shiny metal, encrusted with deep blue and green jems whose names he knew not… and from then on, luck did indeed fall his way. He became a mighty warrior, legendary even, known and feared by all who encountered him.

But the ring worked on him all the same, and soon he had become as evil as he had formerly been good. Deluded in his mind, he convinced himself, that his father and brother were traitors, and that they coveted his ring. He murdered them both in their sleeps, and made himself king.

His reign was short and bloody. He became unrecognisable, and many who would formerly have given their lives for him, hated him from their blood now. But he was all-powerful, and maintained his rule with a cruel hand, and then one day, he was gone. He had left in the night, alone, taking only the barest minimum.

He had felt the call. He travelled all the way to Mordor, and in his mind, all pretence was gone. He saw clearly how Sauron had tricked him… but he resisted no more. From the day, he kneeled before Sauron, and pledged himself, his purpose in life became to serve Sauron. His very existence was built around his master.

And even now, when Sauron and his Ring, were both lost to him, he wished ardently for the old state of things to return. He was wasted as a free man. Practically the only thing he enjoyed was battling, so he often hired himself out as a mercenary, only to kill as many as he could on both sides. He wandered Middle Earth, looking for someone to battle with, and sometimes to visit old strongholds. He lived in the past, and wished for it back. That is why, when he felt the call, he knew not who made it, but it reminded him so irresistably of the last time he had felt such a calll… and he came at once to Tharbad. And so he still obeyed Ilmenzor to the letter, even though he was no longer under him, as he would have in the past. Of all the Nazgul, he would be most likely, if he found the One Ring, to think of giving it back to Sauron.

And so Tolvadok did as he was bid. Untying his horse, he mounted it, and made off, swift as the wind. Depositing his horse, in the stables, he went out the Gate, and then went left as the Chacellor had directed him. The streets were well-nigh deserted at that hour and he passed unnoticed. And soon, he was before the East Gate, and lo! The Palace loomed in front and this time he had no need to search for a Gate, it also loomed.

And he went, circled the building, as desired, and ended up where he was told to, right beside the fountain in the inner garden. That is, not exactly, right beside… like many wraiths, he feared water, and the sight of the water gently splashing was not very pleasant, so he stood some way from it and waited. Water and Elves all over! Really, the Chancellor had no idea how to make a homely Nazgul home!

[Udukhaturz]

“A trap, you say?� Udu’s eyes narrowed as he looked as Khamûl. The Easterling’s mind was impenetrable, well-shielded. “As for learning wisdom, I, too, have spent long years in the East and am well acquainted with treachery. I trust no one, not you, not even the lovely Aiwendis.�

The blue opal on Udu’s hand had lost its light, but still Khamûl had not taken the sword from his hand. “I have no doubts that you would best me in combat by one means or another,� his cold eyes grew harder. “I will not fight you simply because I do not wish any disputations between us to attract attention in this city,� he said coldly as he sheathed his sword, never taking his eyes from Khamul’s face.

“Now that I have learned both wisdom and manners,� he hissed sarcastically as he folded his arms across his chest, “I cannot say that I like either your lessons in wisdom or in manners. They remind me too much of the type I learned all too well at the hands of our fallen Master.

“As for your company, Khamûl,� he said disdainfully, “I do not enjoy it, and I do not consider this,� he gestured with his hand at the room, “a party. I would much rather be elsewhere. I found the maidens who danced at the reception of some interest, and I would much prefer to be in their company than yours! Now do you object to my getting a drink of wine?� He surveyed Khamûl arrogantly. "Perhaps then we could all talk peacefully."

[CrazySquirrel]

"Riight", laughed Khamul, "pour yourself some wine, Udu. And don’t forget to pour some for Buz. Make yourself comfortable, and you will have your third lesson today. And that is: "never forgive anyone"! You both will surely enjoy watching how I deal with our darling Little Lil…"

With that, Khamul picked Lilly, who lay squirming on the floor, and threw her on the bed. A thin horse whip appeared in Khamul’s left hand. In his right, he still held his long, slightly curved oriental sword.

"Why me?" shrieked terrified Lilly. I did nothing at all! Ask them - she pointed at Udu and Buz.

Khamul laughed again, an evil cold sound.

"Look at your robe, Lilly. I believe, you spent all the evening studying, that’s why you have candle wax all over you. Yes, you must have been writing your three scroll paper in Commerce! That explains ink-stains on your ample bosom. And on your face, Buzukkumarz", he hissed, turning with a lightning speed and pointing his sword at Five’s face.

[Udukhaturz]

“Yes, a drink,� Udu said as he walked to the table, reaching down and picking up his half-filled bottle of wine. “Perhaps you would care for some too!� he said as he hurled the wine bottle towards the back of Khamul’s head. The distraction took Khamûl’s attention from Buzukkumarz for an instant. Then Udu rushed upon the Black Easterling, dragging him down to the floor with him. As they fell, Udu pulled a dagger from the sheath at his belt.

“Filthy Tark!� hissed Khamûl, his eyes blazing red, as Udu held the knife to his throat. Then Udu slapped him backhanded across the face twice with his other hand.

“Another thing you should learn, my friend, on the road to wisdom is never leave your back unguarded. Flee Lilly! I cannot hold him for long!�

[Valandil]

As the carriage wheeled its way along, Valandil sat staring out the window, deep in thought. He was recalling the contact he had made with his father's sword that evening, and how it had even tried to warn him - that enemies were about and even not to drink from the cup! How foolish he had been to go through with it, he thought. Still... nothing to do of it now, and no harm seemed to have come from it anyway.

He resisted the desire to touch the pommel of his sword and try to renew contact. Oreturion would surely know if communication of some sort was going on, and Valandil wished to find out whatever he could first by himself, before revealing this to Oreturion. He wasn't even sure if he should tell Estelmo about it. Still though, Estelmo had known his father much better than Oreturion - for Oreturino had only met Isildur when he had fled north to Arnor.

"You really liked her, didn't you?" asked Estelmo, interrupting his thoughts.

"Wh-who? Earniel? Aiwendis?? ... Rian???" asked Valandil, caught a little off-guard.

"Oh," said the elder, "I was referring to the Chancellor's daughter, although you danced with some other fine young ladies this evening - but missed a few as well, I noticed. Still... young men like to fancy Elven ladies and all that, but that Aiwendis now... SHE is a fine young lady of full Numenorean heritage... and more fitted to be the wife of a Man.... the Queen, perhaps, of a King."

Valandil's thought's raced, and he found that he still knew no more of his heart than he had weeks before, when he had first come to this place - even though he had met the enchanted Lady of Nin-in-Eilph. Fortunately for him though, the carriage came to a stop and the door was opened. They had arrived back home and the hour was late. It was time to retire for the evening.

And no reply need be given to Estelmo's questioning... this time.

[Gordis]

Surrounded by servants bearing lanterns, the Chancellor and Aiwendis walked through the garden towards the Palace. Aiwendis’s mind was in deep turmoil. She looked at her hand, now resting on Ilmenzor’s forearm. It still felt warm from the contact with the King’s, the palm still tingling from his kiss.

"Have I ever been troubled so deeply by a mortal? Perhaps, long ago, when I was young. I can’t remember anymore…"

But troubled she was. She stole a glance at the Morgul-Lord, afraid that he would catch her guarded thoughts. But he was paying her no heed, lost in his own plans and schemes. She felt relief, when with a nod and a cold "Goodnight, my daughter" he dismissed her. Aiwendis hurried into her chambers, where the troubling moonlight was shut out by heavy curtains, and fell face-down on her bed.

A dark figure hidden in deep shadows by the fountain moved slightly when the Chancellor’s procession walked past it. But the garden was now swarming with activity: servants cleaning the table, maids hurrying in all directions, somewhat unsteadily moving professors returning to their appartments. The figure hesitated, then melted again in the shadows of the trees by the wall.

What is happening to me? thought Aiwendis. "Why have I suddenly found the smell of human blood so attractive? No, I can’t be in love with a mortal, it is just crazy. Do I want to become a queen so badly?

An ancient quarrel with Lilly flashed through her mind. "You never loved anybody!" cried the angry Readhead, "all you EVER wanted is to become a Queen!"…No, it was not true, Lilly never understood me, because it is exactly the way Lilly HERSELF always thought…

…Lilly!... Aiwendis sat bolt upright, remembering the plight of those in Orrodel. Lilly, Buz and Udu. In her silliness, she sent Udukhaturz into the trap herself. How could she now forget? She was a selfish, besotted fool! Now perhaps they have already killed each other!

All thoughts of Valandil left her instantly. Silent and invisible Aiwendis ran on her light feet towards the Chancellor’s chambers. On and on she ran through endless dimly lit corridors, some empty, some swarming with servants. They seemed like pale shadows, smelling of human blood and sweat, and in some passages Aiwendis had to flatten herself against a wall and wait, not to bump into someone.

"Look, Ul", she heard one calling."Close that blasted window in the corridor, there is an awful draught here. Look like that door swings open all by itself!"

[Gordis]

Aiwendis never before risked to go invisible through a crowd, unless in dire need. Today the need was desperate. At least the passage, leading to the Chancellor’s chambers, was empty. Flinging the last door open, she rushed into Ilmenzor’s study.

The Morgul Lord sat at the table, a forgotten book open before him.

"My Lord, we have to go to Orrodel, now!" cried Aiwendis, forgetting all caution. "Khamul, is there, I am sure! He will torture them again!"

The Chancellor’s face was stern. "Pray tell me, how does it concern me? Khamul was slighted, he has the right to repay the debt. I believe he has done so already"

"But I sent Udu there!" They must be fighting between themselves!"

"They are always fighting between themselves, unless they are drinking or whoring. That pretty much sums up all their possible activities" laughed the Morgul Lord.

Aiwendis’s eyes filled with tears. She went around the table and fell to her knees at the Captain’s feet. "My Lord, I beg you…"

The Chancellor chuckled softly, studying Aiwendis’s face and figure. "You are so attractive, when upset, my darling. I will do what you ask, though I admit I had other plans for the night..." He traced the outline of Aiwendis's cheek with his fingers.

Aiwendis blushed, discerning an impish gleam in his eyes. But she would not be deterred now. "I am most grateful, my Lord", she whispered. Taking the Chancellor's cloak from the sofa, she held it for him to don. But the Morgul Lord shook his head. "We shall go invisible".

Quietly they slipped into the garden. In the Shadow World, the fog was moving in white waves made radiant by moonlight. It was a fairy-night, when all the little spirits of air, water and earth ventured out to dance under the waning moon. Aiwendis spotted a family of tiny winged fairies on the lawn near the fountain with an old kobold playing a flute on the rim.

Old Akoradur, a ghostly Numenorean soldier, kept his watch on the wall, his severed head held firmly under his arm. The ancient fortress had many ghosts, some held in Middle Earth by a curse, some by desire for vengeance. Aiwendis knew all of them by now, as the ghosts were eager to chat with someone who was able to hear them. Akoradur was older than Aiwendis, killed by his own brother in the early years of Tharbad, when the men of Elenna were shipping wood down the Gwathlo to build more ships for King Tar-Aldarion. The old fool was still looking for his brother, to cut his throat in turn, though the brother was long dead and gone to Mandos and beyond…

Now, though, Akoradur shuffled quickly out of sight, frightened by the bright gleam of the crown on the Morgul Lord’s head, and the fell light in his eyes. All the fairies dispersed as well, in awe of ringwraiths, the Lords of the Spirit World.

The Pale King paused by the fountain and called "Lord Tolvadok, come with us!"

[Serenoli]

Tolvadok stood in the shadowy garden of Aiwendis, alone, and it seemed forgotten. Soon, however, he was forced to become invisible, as the garden became a thoroughfare for servants cleaning up, and for professors to come home in pairs, and quiet little groups, some very obviously drunk. He did not wish to be seen, and when anyone passed too close, he shuddered.

Then among the crowd milling about, he saw them walking the Chancellor, and the lovely Aiwendis on his arm. He stepped forward: surely the Chancellor had come for him?

But, no, he did not even look at him, and walked past. No doubt he did not wish Tolvadok to be seen among all these people.

He waited some more, and slowly the garden cleared. But while the live people became less, increasingly more and more ghosts appeared. This garden was clearly haunted, and after the nasty shocks he had recieved from seeing the elves, he felt slightly more at home with folk more like to him. He did not talk much to them, though. His mind was preoccupied with thoughts... why was he here? Had it been the Chancellor who had called him? If so, why? Did it have something to do with the King, who, apparently was here, partying with the Lord of the Ringwraiths? If it had been he, he would have killed the son of the tark Isildur, but the Chancellor chose to party!! He wondered vaguely if Lord Ilmenzor was turning good... the thought made him laugh.

And finally, when even fairies had ventured into the deserted garden, the two Nazgul appeared, both invisible, and Ilmenzor ordered him, "Lord Tolvadok, come with us!"

He came out of the shadows, bowed low to the Chancellor, and then to Aiwendis, taking her hand to bestow a light kiss on it. She was still staring at him in amazement, clearly, Ilmenzor had not told her of his arrival.

"How do you do, Aiwendis? You look lovelier than ever before. You don't look too glad to see me, though...", he said smiling, still holding her hand.

[CrazySquirrel]

Lilly felt miserable and did not want any lessons. She didn't want to be tortured either, but she knew it would come to that, once the Easterling was done taunting her. Lilly moaned pitifully. It seemed that her brilliant idea with the wax-figure spell, was not so brilliant after all.

Suddenly a bottle came flying at Khamul’s head, knocking him down. Udu and Buz jumped at the Easterling from both sides, like two blood-thirsty hounds. Lilly lifted her head, watching three men fighting on the floor. Udu soon had the upper hand, it seemed, as his dagger was at Khamul’s throat.

"Flee Lilly! I cannot hold him for long!" ordered Udu in his usual matter-of fact voice.

Lilly tried to get up, but her hands and legs were still frozen by Khamul’s spell. She was as good as bound. Lilly started to panic. Her head felt like an overweight troll had been merrily jumping on it for hours.

Meantime, Buz stepped on Khamul’s sword hand, pinning it to the floor. The Second’s eyes were burning bright red, he muttered something under his breath, either a spell, or a curse in his native tongue. Lilly knew, that indeed Buz and Udu would not be able to hold him for long.

"Kill the bastard, Udu!" cried Buz shrilly, "Kill him before he prepares his spell!"

[Udukhaturz]

His knife at Khamûl’s throat, Udu had pinned the Black Easterling down on the floor and stared down into his glaring eyes. Udukhatûrz’ eyes were flaming with an intensity equal to that of Khamûl’s. He could sense the total abject fear in Lilly, who lay upon the bed, immobilized. Buzukkumarz had stepped on Khamûl’s sword hard, holding it imprisoned.

Khamûl’s eyes glowed with hatred. “Insolent Tark!� he snarled as he began muttering a spell.

Udu heard Buz shrieking, “Kill the bastard, Udu!�

Khamûl struggled against Udu, his Ring glowing. Udu sensed the presence of metal hidden somewhere beneath his clothing. The Easterling had more than one dagger concealed on his person! Another ripple of hatred flared from Khamûl’s eyes. Udu felt the old killing passion ripple through his mind and soul.

With a look of malicious hatred, Udukhatûrz firmly gripped the knife handle in his right hand. Then he slashed the dagger down, ripping over the side of Khamûl’s neck. Khamûl hissed in pain and cried out, cursing. A blinding flash from Khamûl’s Ring hurled Udu across the floor, and he crashed into the side of a table and chair, splintering the table as he fell across it.

[Rían]

Tyaron was just a split second too late. RÃ*an hit the ground and lay there without moving, her lovely hair strewn across her motionless body. He fell to his knees and bent over her, calling her by her names, then pulled her into his lap, cradling her head to his chest. Alagos came running up, and falling to his knees, bent over her anxiously, trying to smooth the hair back from her face so he could look into her eyes. After a few moments that seemed like hours, they heard her trying to say something in a faint voice, and they strained their ears to listen.

"Why must I always fall? Why must I always fall?" she said over and over in despair. Tyaron stopped the words that were on the lips of the quick-speaking Alagos with a look that said, "Let me handle this," and bent over her protectively. "Why must I always fall?" she said plaintively again, and he answered her, "So I can pick you up, sweetheart," and held her even closer. Alagos, seeing that his sister was going to be fine (at least physically), moved quietly back to let her lover have a free hand.

But RÃ*an, as she gathered her wits about her (admittedly a quick task; those who loved RÃ*an didn't love her for an overabundance of brain), wasn't quite sure that she wanted to be picked up by Tyaron, and she started to struggle against him. The hand to his front pushed him petulantly away, but the arm behind his back clung tightly to him. Sometimes our bodies speak more truly what is in our hearts than our words do, and RÃ*an was indeed in two minds about this swordsman from Gondolin.

"I don't want you to pick me up," she said plaintively, "Go away!" And she settled in more comfortably against his chest.

Tyaron, praying he was reading the conflicting signals right, started singing.

He sang the songs that he sang to Alagos during those long, weary days of his friend's illness. He made his voice, which was strong and deep, as soft as the breezes that blow in the treetops that RÃ*an loved so well. He let his voice caress her, because she wouldn't let his hands caress her. He sang of flowing water, and sparkling fountains, and the sound of the sea. He sang of the flowers that bloom in the secret places in the meadows, and of the birds that nest in the hidden places of the trees. He sang of the raindrops hanging like jewels off of the tree branches, and the snowflakes that fell like presents from the sky. And as he sang, her hand slowly stopped pushing him away.

[Rían]

Tyaron finished singing and was still. After a moment, there came a soft voice from the little tyrant nestled safe and warm in his arms - "Tyaron, don't stop singing! Please sing some more," and he smiled.

"I have sung of things that we have seen; now I will sing of things that we have not seen, but are nonetheless true," and he started singing again. He sang of the pearl-strewn beaches of Alqualondë, and of the light of the two trees in Valinor. He sang of the Eldar awakening at Cuiviénen, and of their wonder at beholding the stars. And he sang of the loveliest song of all - the Ainulindalë, the music of the Ainur by which Ilúvatar made the world through the power He granted to them, and how Morgoth had tried to ruin the song, but Ilúvatar, in his strength and power and beauty, overcame the evil and turned it into something even more beautiful. She sighed, and reaching up, took a lock of his hair in her hand and started absentmindedly running it through her fingers and across her cheek.

Tyaron had no idea that a person's insides could feel the way that his did at that moment.

The last notes of the song drifted away on the wind, and again he stopped singing. He waited quietly to see what she would do next.

"Please keep singing, please," came the request again, as she played with his hair.

Tyaron decided that it was time for a different type of song.

"Now I will sing to you from a long and beautiful song of the Eldar," he said, and a curious smile spread across his face...

[Lotesse]

The sound of Elven singing coming from nearby drifted Viniglaen's way, nudging her out of her thoughtful reverie. Lomi flew over to her, and perched in the tree above where she lay. Viv sat up, and combed her hand through her hair to clear her mind.

"Elves, my lady," said Lomi. "Not too far from where we are."

"Yes, Lomi; I hear them," answered Viv a little worriedly. "Have the wolves taken their leave?"

"They have," said Lomi, "and I think it wisest we do as well."

"Couldn't agree with you more," said Viv as she arose and brushed the grass-bits from off her clothes, and shook out her riding cloak. "What do you say, Laslech; ready to go home to your new stable for a nice brush-down and a good night's sleep?"

Although Laslech was capable of communicating to Viv mentally, the mare had yet to reveal this particular attribute. Being a wise Mearas, Laslech had a tendency only to communicate when the need was real. Small talk was not her forte.

Viv mounted Laslech, and Lomi flew ahead of them to scan the walk home for any hidden dangers, in order to best protect her mistress. They made a wide circle around the area from whence the Elvish songs were emanating, and walking pensively, Laslech and Viniglaen made their way back to Orrodel. It was midnight.

[Lady Marion Magdalena]

Mahtaliel set aside the repaired pieces of armor, stacking them neatly in a pile near the door. The Watch would send someone around to collect them in the morning. Though it was late, Mahtaliel was wide awake, the work had energized her and now she found herself too alert for sleep.
It was a most unsatisfactory state of being.

At least an hour had passed since she had left the reception and it had been midnight then. The night was too far gone to consider starting on another piece of work.

Stretching, she put away her tools and banked the fire, thinking as she moved. There was paperwork to be done, but paperwork was never appealing, least of all late at night.

Now she left the forge, locking the door behind her. The night was pleasantly cool after the heat of the fire. A breeze had sprung up and the previously heavy fog had dissapated to become a fine, refreshing mist. Breathing deeply she let her feet take her where they would. Across the walkway, behind her house, up the stairs to the top of the wall.

Once upon a time there might have been guards along this stretch of the wall, only a century or two ago, when this university served as a fortress and the city extended no further than these walls.
There were none now, she walked along the top of the wall alone, strolling clockwise and enjoying the night.

From up here she could see the whole of the street below and much of the wealthy part of the city. This wall was a favorite place for solitude, students rarely came up here, and the other professors preferred to stay on the ground. Anytime she wanted to watch and think undisturbed and in the open she came up here. Curled in between the parapets she could watch all who passed below, and remain unseen.

She was nearly halfway to the end now, just past the commerce building. Gazing out over the neighborhood she noted that there were still lights on in the Orrodel Mansion.

That was a strange family who had moved in there, sitting next to Galadannun at the feast she had gathered that he and three… siblings? were living there. And if she recalled rightly the Lady Rian was working for them. It seemed they were still up. Curious, she took a seat on the edge of the wall, concealing herself in the shadows and settled in to watch.

[CrazySquirrel]

After the blast from Khamul’s Rung hurled Udu across the room and left him lying stunned among the splinters of a table, the fight was over in mere seconds. Disregarding the rivulet of blood from his throat, Khamul, sword in hand, pressed Buzukkumarz hard, and finally made him loose his footing and fall in a heap in a corner. Pressing a kerchief to his injured neck, Khamul chanted the immobilising spell again. Now he had all three of his underlings in invisible, but immensely strong chains.

Khamul paused by the bed and looked into Lilly’s wide-open terrified green eyes. "I am yet undecided what to do with you, my beauty. Perhaps you can come up with some fresh ideas. I heard you were artistic in punishing your orcs". Then, looking at Udu and Buz, he continued "You two were never too bright, but perhaps you can help Lilly to choose. Something simple, that she could easily understand, like cutting her ears and nose and feeding them to dogs"

Laughing, Khamul made for the door "You have a quarter of an hour to think, meanwhile I have to dispose of the maid. Ever you make your betters clean your mess after you…"

The maid was still on the sofa in the living room, where Khamul had left her. Now she obviously had a strong fever, though her right arm was even colder than before. The Easerling pondered briefly on the course to take. He suddenly remembered Aiwendis’s words: "Such an unfortunate accident, right in the middle of Menotar, on a market day..." Half of Tharbad has seen the death of the former Professor of Languages, but nobody understood it. The idea was good, Khamul perceived the Morgul Lord’s cunning touch.

Grinning evilly, Khamul went to the kitchen and brought three bottles of wine. Pouring it slowly down the maid’s throat, one after another, he chanted the Black Breath counter-spell. Soon, the right hand felt warmer and the maid was well again, but dead drunk. Looking at him with unfocussed eyes, she muttered, "Prof.. fffesor Galad..amnun"

Khamul laughed. Sending his will forward he delved deep into the maid’s defenceless brain. Khamul quickly erased all recollection of the previous day and this night. Melwen’s mind was uncomplicated, in fact simple as a kitchen table. No hidden darkness, no big faults, no strong emotions, not even love. Typical Faithful she-tark…. How disgusting… Well, that can be remedied. Khamul recalled the stable boys he had seen this morning, when he went to check on his horse. The older one, Arastud, was a handsome fellow… Chuckling evilly, Khamul firmly implanted his image into the unresisting maid’s mind, adding a good portion of lust.

Now all was ready. Turning invisible, Khamul made Melwen grip the last, almost empty bottle and propelled her along the dark corridors to the backdoor and out of the main house. They crossed the mansion garden and approached the stables. The Esaterling opened the door of the stable boys’ room and pushed Melwen inside, wiping the recollection of the last moments from her mind as well.

***
Arastud, was sound asleep, dreaming of Annawen, when he suddenly felt someone getting into his bed. The girl’s body felt feverishly warm and her breath reeked of wine.

"Arastud, my love", whispered Melwen hotly into his ear.

[Gordis]

University Garden, night after the Reception

Aiwendis was distractedly looking at the little fairies scurrying in all directions like frightened mice, when a tall white figure in gleaming helm stepped out of the mist and bowed. It was another ringwraith. With a sickening feeling, she recognised him. Tolvadok. The one she feared and secretly disliked the most. He was an incarnation of the mind and will of her terrible Master, always eager and over-zealous to carry out Sauron’s orders. The Master clearly favoured him over the others for his unerring dedication. Therefore, meeting Tolvadok now was somehow alike to meeting Sauron himself.

While Aiwendis stood stunned, staring at him, Tolvadok took her hand to bestow a light kiss on it.

"How do you do, Aiwendis? You look lovelier than ever before. You don't look too glad to see me, though...", he said smiling, still holding her hand.

Aiwendis had difficulty to find her voice again. Moving instinctively closer to the Morgul Lord, she replied, smiling unconvincingly:

"Oh, why shouldn’t I be glad to see you, Lord Tolvadok? I only was surprised to see you here. It had been a long time…You are most welcome to Tharbad."

With that, Aiwendis got a firm hold on the Morgul Lord’s arm, which reassured her somewhat. They continued through the fog, Aiwendis careful to remain as far away from Tolvadok as possible. Exiting the University by the East Gate, they turned left and walked along the wall to the Orrodel Mansion.

The street and the Augon Vin Square were empty, no Men and no ghosts around. The fountain splashed in the centre, its sound muted by the fog. The Orrodel Mansion loomed ahead, showing a lighted window on the first floor. The three ringwraiths walked to the main door and found it locked; however, at a single command from the Captain, the door opened quietly, not a single hinge squeaking, and the invisible nazgul slipped into the house.

[Lady Marion Magdalena]

Mahtaliel watched the distant, drunken figure make her way into the stable, some servent probably, into the master's wine whilst they were out...

Below her the mist swirled and seemed to part as if to let ghostly figures pass, though there was no one there.

Or was there? A fog blanketed night past the witching hour... who could tell what was in the unseen? Mahtaliel was too young to have seen the light of the trees, she lived in the Seen, in the concrete world of the everyday. But she knew the Unseen was there, seperated only by a thin veil. Her parents had been able to see it, and who knew what their eyes would have seen this night?

The thought sent a shiver down her spine, and she turned her eyes to the great door of the mansion. Heavy wood bound with metal, it was a door made to keep intruders out...

Mahtaliel started with surprise when she saw the door swing open, seemingly on its own. Truly this was a strange night!

Eyes and ears alert she silently climbed to a better vantage point, ruthlessly squashing the voice in the back of her mind telling her that this spying on her neighbors was quite ridiculous...

But heavy doors didn't open on their own...

Settling onto the grainy stones she watched intently.

[Lotesse]

As she neared home, Viv felt presence all around her. She felt Elven eyes watching her from a distance, she felt faeries rustling around and scurrying amongst the shrubs and grasses, she felt Aiwendis, Ilmenzor and oddly enough, Tolvadok, and the closer she got to the grounds of Orrodel House, the stronger she felt frightened pain from Lil, sadistic anger from Khamul, and the presence of course of Udu and Buz, as well. 'The gang's all here, just about,' she thought to herself.

Arriving home, she took Laslech in to the stables and brushed her down herself, hanging her bridle and tack and thoughtfully taking her time leaving the stables. Her mind was full of Raendil, but she knew she should be thinking more on her own family, and yet - she couldn't get her mind off Ray. It bothered her to have her mind so distracted by a mere mortal, and it bothered her that she had to feel bothered, and none of it was making sense - and this bothered her the most of all. 'Emotional detachment has always kept you one step ahead in this life,' she tried to scold herself. 'Don't ruin it now for yourself by leting someone live rent-free in your heart - what is WRONG with you, dammit!'

Laslech looked as if she was reading Viv's torn and sweetly confused thoughts. Unbeknownst to Vivvie, at least that evening, the mare would slowly but surely acclimate herself to her new, unusual friend and mistress, her new Rider. There was much about Viv that the horse needed to figure out upon her own, but Laslech was unafraid.

As Viv made, finally, to leave the stables and go inside the house, she could swear she heard some servants rustling in the haybeds. The smell of human lust was discernable through the innocent hay-scent in the stable.

[Lady Marion Magdalena]

There! A rider, the younger of the ladies, returning to her home...

Late for her to be out.

[Rían]

(earlier that evening...)

Arastud gave a final polish to the headstall ornaments and looked them over with a critical eye, then approving of his job, hung it carefully up on its peg in the tackroom.

He sat down on a hay bale, breathing in its sweet fragrance, along with the scent of the sweet grains that the horses loved. He had always liked horses - he always did the farrier work that came to his father's blacksmith shop - and this job seemed like a dream come true. And the pay - WOW! - enough to marry on ...

Suddenly he sat bolt upright and smacked himself on the forehead. "You idiot!" he said to himself. "You forgot to tell Dad about the job for the chandler!" The chandler's daughter was getting married, and the chandler had fitted up a rig for them as a wedding gift, but was having trouble with one of the wheels. He had stopped Arastud on the street, and Arastud, after examining it, saw the problem with his quick eye and offered to fix it and get it back to him by the wedding. He took the wheel back home but, getting immediately pulled into a family crisis of the type that often happens with large families (one of his younger brothers had dared an even younger brother that he wouldn't touch the forge, so the youngest brother had to be rushed to the doctor and the other had to have a conversation with a willow switch), had forgotten it.

Arastud, a conscientious young man, decided that he would run home and fix it, and then leave it outside the chandler's door. He shook his younger brother, Arabud, awake, told him where he'd be in case he was needed, and took off into the night.

Fixing the wheel was the work of a moment (for skillful hands like his), and walked over to the chandler's house and propped it against the front door.

Satisfied with his work, he decided to not rush back to Orrodel. Looking over at the University and its bright lights, he wandered over in that direction, and was surprised to hear what seemed like muffled sobs. Upon investigation, he was even more surprised to see that it was Annawen.

"Annawen, what's the matter? Can I help?" he asked the young girl.

"Oh, Arastud," she replied shakily. "You're so kind, but I don't think you can help me with this problem." Looking back towards the bright lights shining through the windows, she said sadly, "He would never pay attention to someone like me."

Arastud knew of Annawen's crush on the young King, and saw it for what it was - a crush. He decided (embolded by the walk they had had the other day, and her reaction to him - and by the realization that with the job at Orrodel, that he would soon have enough saved to marry) to make his move, for he had long admired her from afar - the Red Herring had been one of his frequent haunts.

"Annawen, I am a plain man and I will speak plainly: I love you - do you not love me?"

She looked at him and answered, "I wish to be loved by another..." and trailed off, looking back at the windows.

"Annawen, you have desired the love of the King, because he was high and puissant, and you wished to have renown and glory and to be lifted far above the mean things that crawl on the earth. Look at me, Annawen!"

And Annawen looked at Arastud long and steadily, and, reading the love in his eyes, said, "No longer do I desire to be a Queen."

Then Arastud laughed merrily. "That is well," he said; "for I am not a King! And he took her in his arms and kissed her under the moonlit sky.


Many hours later, as Arastud was sleeping soundly and dreaming of Annawen, he felt someone getting into his bed. The girl’s body felt feverishly warm and her breath reeked of wine.

"Arastud, my love", whispered Melwen hotly into his ear.

He jerked awake. "Melwen!" he said uncertainly, trying to get his sleep-fogged brain to work. She ran her hands down to where no woman's hands had gone before (well, at least since he had been out of diapers), and he grabbed her hands away and sat up. "Melwen, what are you doing?!" he said, shocked that the quiet maid would do something like that. She didn't seem able to answer; in fact, she seemed about ready to fall down. She did neither; instead, she threw up.

A few minutes and several buckets later, a shaken Melwen was in tears. "I don't know what happened to me! I don't know what happened! One moment I was in the kitchen, then ... then ... I can't remember anything after that!" she wailed. She looked around and realized where she was. "What am I doing here?!" she said in confusion. "But now that I AM here..." she thought, and looked up at Arastud with what she hoped was an alluring look.

Arastud looked at her with concern. "I don't know," he said, "but I'm getting you back to your room!"

"Oh, Arastud, I feel so weak, can't I just lie down here?" and she lay down on his bed, stealthily popping open a few buttons on her bodice.

But Arastud wasn't in the mood to be seduced. "You'll feel MUCH better in your own room," he said firmly, and picked her up. Several minutes and a few struggles later, he came back to his room. Looking at the mess, he decided that he would sit with the horses and think, instead.

[Rían]

"Now I will sing to you from a long and beautiful song of the Eldar," said Tyaron to RÃ*an, and a curious smile spread across his face...

He paused for a moment, choosing from among the many verses those that best spoke what he felt, and then started singing slowly, longingly, to her:

How beautiful you are, my darling, How beautiful you are!
Your eyes are like doves.
Arise, my darling, my beautiful one, and come along!
For behold, the winter is past, the rain is over and gone.
The flowers have appeared in the land, and the voice of the turtledove has been heard in our land.
Arise, my darling, my beautiful one, and come along!
O my dove, in the clefts of the rock, in the secret place of the steep pathway,
Let me see your form, let me hear your voice;
For your voice is sweet, and your form is lovely.


RÃ*an, who had lifted up her head to look at him, sang back with sorrowful eyes from another part of the song:

Night after night I sought him whom my soul loves;
I sought him but did not find him.
I must arise now and go about the city;
In the streets and in the squares
I must seek him whom my soul loves.

and then, with tears springing into her eyes,

I sought him but did not find him.

Tyaron gently wiped the tears away and continued from another part, his voice imploring her,

Open to me, my sister, my darling,
My dove, my perfect one!
You are altogether beautiful, my darling,
And there is no blemish in you.
You have made my heart beat faster, my sister, my bride;
You have made my heart beat faster with a single glance of your eyes.

RÃ*an shook her head in a gentle but firm negative, and sang,

I searched for him, but I did not find him;
I called him, but he did not answer me.

Tyaron sang back, his voice echoing the ache in his heart,

Come back, come back, that I might gaze at you!
The curves of your hips are like jewels,
The work of the hands of an artist;
I am captivated by your tresses,
How beautiful and how delightful you are, my love, with all your charms!
Come, my beloved, let us go out into the country,
Let us rise early and go to the vineyards,
Let us see whether the vine has budded and its blossoms have opened,
And whether the pomegranates have bloomed.
There I will give you my love.

RÃ*an looked down and was silent. Tyaron put a finger under her chin and lifted up her face to his, looking deeply into her eyes for what he thought he had seen the night of the Fall of Gondolin. Alagos, seeing signs of RÃ*an's temper rising again, broke out singing from the branches above them, where he had climbed to enjoy the sight of his sister being wooed by his friend,

We have a little sister,
And she has no breasts,"

RÃ*an forgot all about getting mad at Tyaron and stared up at her outlandish brother in disbelief, laughing in spite of herself. Tyaron looked up at Alagos with a wry smile, saying, "I don't think that's the case here, Alagos!", and looked back down at RÃ*an, openly admiring the features in question, which were mere inches from his face. "Stop!" said RÃ*an to Tyaron, laughing and hitting him with the strand of his hair that she still held tightly.

Alagos smiled at the success of his ploy, and said, "You two got to sing, now it's my turn!" He started the section over again ...

(continued)

[Rían]

Alagos sang,

We have a little sister, and she has no breasts,
What shall we do for our sister on the day when she is spoken for?
If she is a wall, we shall build on her a battlement of silver;
But if she is a door, we shall barricade her with planks of cedar.

RÃ*an sang, giving both of them a very stern look,

My very own vineyard is at my disposal,

and she gave a petulant yank to Tyaron's hair.

Tyaron took hold of the offending hand, kissed it softly, and slowly and sorrowfully sang,

A garden locked is my sister, my bride,
A rock garden locked, a spring sealed up.
Your shoots are an orchard of pomegranates
With choice fruits, henna with nard plants,
Nard and saffron, calamus and cinnamon,
With all the trees of frankincense,
Myrrh and aloes, along with all the finest spices.
You are a garden spring, a well of fresh water,
And streams flowing from the east.

Looking deep into her eyes, Tyaron said, willing her to answer, "What is the next verse, RÃ*an?"

She sang, rather unwillingly,

Awake, O north wind,
And come, wind of the south;
Make my garden breathe out fragrance,
Let its spices be wafted abroad.
May my beloved come into his garden
And eat its choice fruits!

She looked away from his face.

Tyaron put his mouth close to her ear, which was close to him now because she had turned her face away, and sang with all the love he felt for her going into his voice,

Come away with me, beloved, come away with me,
Put me like a seal over your heart,
Like a seal on your arm,
For love is as strong as death.

She turned to look at him again, uncertainty written on her face. He smiled tenderly down on her, and sang,

Who is this that grows like the dawn,
As beautiful as the full moon,
As pure as the stars?

Putting his face down next to hers so that his lips brushed against her cheek as he spoke, he urged her, "Say the opening line to me, RÃ*an; say the opening line!"

RÃ*an was quiet for a long time, and then, her heart pounding, she sang the opening line:

May he kiss me with the kisses of his mouth!

... and Tyaron did what he had been longing to do for over three thousand years.


A smile slowly spread across the handsome face of Alagos, looking down on them from his perch in the tree. He watched a moment more, then sang softly from another part of the song,

Your lips, my bride, drip honey,
Honey and milk are under your tongue."

He smiled again and turned east to watch the sunrise.

[Udukhaturz]

When the magic power from Khamûl’s Ring had hurled Udukhatûrz across the room, Udu had crashed into a chair and then fallen upon a table. The table was splintered beneath him, and he could feel some of the splinters lodged in several very uncomfortable places. He struggled against the invisible chains, but he could do nothing to break them, nor could he even get a hand free to remove the foreign objects from the tender parts of his anatomy.

Buzukkumarz, who was so paralyzed that he could barely move a muscle, glared angrily. Udu looked over at Lilly, who lay terrified upon the bed, immobilized by Khamûl’s spell. “You do not have to be afraid that I will agree to have your ears and nose cut off and fed to the dogs. I would doubt that he would do that, though, so I think your lovely face is secure.�

Udu tugged on his chains a few more times, but his movements did nothing more than drive the splinters in deeper. “The two of you,� he said, his voice harsh, “have angered Khamûl greatly. Your little trick stressed him greatly at the reception. While I do not agree to the mutilation of your face, Lilly, I might not be adverse to the idea of whipping you. In fact, I might enjoy it, for both of you have brought me to a good deal of discomfort!�

He warded his thoughts tightly but he did not much care if the other two did hear him. “Why am I here,� he thought. “I could have been making the acquaintance of some of those sultry Eastern dancing girls tonight.�

He remembered what Khamûl had said, "Never trust anyone," and thought of the beautiful Aiwendis and what Khamûl's words had implied about her. She had sent him into a trap! He would trust her no more than he did any of the others. Perhaps Lilly was not the only one who deserved a whipping. He soon put the idea of revenge out of his mind, for the charming Aiwendis was protected by the Black Captain. He would remember, though, and remember well.

Udu began to grow angrier. “I should never have followed Khamûl here! Should I ever get out of this in no worse shape than I am now, perhaps I should go to the livery stable, saddle up my horse and ride quietly back into the East.� He cursed and fought the chains again and found that he could once again move his Ring finger. His cold eyes smiled until he considered, “What good will that do me? The light of my Ring no longer burns.� He cursed again and struggled against the chains, but to no avail. He was trapped!

[Lotesse]

Leaving the stables, Viv walked through the garden in the back of the house, touching the bark of the cedar tress as she walked past them, breathing deep of their intoxicating smell.

[Serenoli]

Aiwendis had difficulty to find her voice again. Moving instinctively closer to the Morgul Lord, she replied, smiling unconvincingly:

"Oh, why shouldn’t I be glad to see you, Lord Tolvadok? I only was surprised to see you here. It had been a long time…You are most welcome to Tharbad."

Tolvadok smiled inwardly. So Gordis had not gotten over her 'secret' dislike of him yet? Well, then neither had he lost his contempt for her. He had been surprised at all the Elves and water in the Palace... but now he saw it must be Gordis who was to blame for all that.

They moved on, out into the streets of Tharbad by the East Gate, and the other two led him to a handsome mansion in an apparently posh part of town. The lower part of the house was dark, and empty, but upstairs a light shone. And then, he could fell them too, anger, frustation, triumph and fright emanating from them... how many were there? Udu, Buz and Khamul, and Lily - she was the one who was scared. He wondered if Viv and Mordocar were there too, but he could not sense them. So many Nazgul in one place... the last time they had all collected together had been in that futile escape from Mordor, the day Sauron was overthrown... painful memories came back to him... he shut them out with an effort.

They had reached the front door, and finding it locked, the Morgul-captain muttered a short incantation, and it swung open. The three of them walked in, silent as ghosts.

They were in a large sitting room, richly but rather haphazardly furnished. A flight of stairs could be seen in the dim light of an adjoining corridor.

The Morgul-captain signalled them to approach the stairs, but then they heard the sound of a door crashing shut somewhere to the back of the house. The three of them stiffened as heavy footsteps approached, and then a man could be seen climbing the stairs. He had not seen them, and his mind was filled with an evil triumph, which perhaps had prevented him from sensing their presence yet. Tolvadok recognised Khamul, the Second, with a shock, and wondered why it was that everytime he saw Khamul, he seemed so much shorter and less horrific than memory painted him?

[Grey_Wolf]

Having had a meal, a short discussion with Lómi about Guild matters, and close talks about further dealings with their Nazgûl companions the wolves exited the deserted house through the corridor and secret door and returned to the far away mountains.

[Telcontar_Dunedain]

Khamûul's mind was a mess. His application of power he had exerted on the maid had mentally drained him. Placing a thought in a mind isn't easy as it is. Yet trying to make that thought permanent is nea impossible, and only the most powerful were capable of it. Despite his power, Khamûl was not and neither was the Morgul Lord. The thought's placed in the mind of the maid would ware off soon, and hat had happened that evening would soon become apparent to her.
Khamûl re-entered the house and closed the door behind him. He crossed the kitchen floor and walked throught the hall way towards the stairs. He had already dis-credited the maid, now a sudden death would not be so much of a surprise. But maybe it would not be the only death in Tharbad over the next few days.
As Khamûl re entered Lily's boudoir he felt stronger presences enter the house, one even stronger than his own. The Chancellor. It must be. He would not allow any harm to be done to Udu, he had no part in Khamûl's pain. Lily and Buz on the other hand deserved it.
"I see your mind is pre occupied with my new friend," said Khamûl to Udu grinning. "She'll be here in a minute. You could say hello."
Udu opened his mouth to reply, but soon closed it, thinking it unwise to anger Khamûl, given his present condition.
"Well," said Khamûl, now looking at Buz. "Any idea's for Lily? Phyiscal pain? Mental? Both? I'm game either way. What do you think Lily?"
"I think you a treacherous dog Khamûl, and you will pay," spat Lily.
"I think not," replied Khamûl, sending a sharp blast of pain through his Ring. "And I think you'll find the Morgul Lord is in full support of my actions. He know's that your underlings do not attack you and get away with it."

[CrazySquirrel]

Even frightened as she was, Lilly was never totally intimidated
"I think you a treacherous dog Khamûl, and you will pay," she spat spat at the Easterling, knowing full well what was to follow. And, indeed, a sharp blast of needle-hot pain shot through her, driving all the conscious thoughts out of her brain.

With a wink at Buzukkumarz and Udu, Khamul turned Lilly face down, exposing her plump backside. To it he applied his whip with relish. Buz roared in frustration and struggled in his fetters. Udu remained non-committal.

"You are a silly, spoiled, wicked bitch, Lilly, too simple-minded to understand finer and more dignified punishments", grinned Khamul. "I will whip you like you whipped your orcs, and I won't leave a single piece of skin on your backside."

[Rían]

As the minutes passed and Tyaron started to kiss RÃ*an more intensely, she received a sudden shock. "Can one DO that?" she wondered. In her innocence, she thought that men kissed those whom they wished to marry the same way that brothers kissed sisters - only longer, or something. After a moment, though, she decided that she quite liked it. "I wonder if kissing that way is only a custom of the Eldar, or if humans do that, too - or maybe just humans with Elven blood," she idly wondered; not that she had anyone in mind, she said to herself ... Tyaron, perhaps sensing RÃ*an's momentary inattention, pulled her in closer to himself, and RÃ*an soon forgot about everything else.

- - - - - -

Alagos continued watching the light grow in the east, and then it happened again: unbidden, a picture came into his mind of his sister and a little girl at the fountain of the King, playing in its bright waters. "Alagos, Alagos, come here!" his sister called out to him with a smile. "Come and meet my new friend!"

Alagos, resplendant in his full armor (he had come from a full dress drill of the archers of his house, where his quickness and skill had earned him first place yet again), came over to join them. "My sister, I have already met this fair maiden!" he said to RÃ*an. "Have I not?" he added with a gallant bow to Eärniel.

"Indeed you have, kind sir," answered Eärniel. "You rescued my kite from a tree, though I don't quite know how it got there in the first place - my sister must have borrowed it."

Alagos turned his head slightly away and coughed, and his sister eyed him suspiciously. He turned back to Eärniel with a twinkle in his eyes. "Do you want to try to guess again?" he asked her, and reached down to pick up a stone. "Yes!" she said enthusiastically, and settled down with a look of intense concentration on her pretty face. Taking the small stone, Alagos put it in the palm of his left hand; with his right, he hit the bottom of his left hand, sending the stone high up into the air. He reached up and swiftly swung both hands through the air in the vicinity of the flying stone, then brought them down before Eärniel's face. "Which hand?" he said with a mischevious smile.

- - - - - -

Alagos, in the treetops, smiled and then sighed - the very next day, Ecthelion, the lord of the house of the Fountains, the house to which the young girl belonged, lay dead in the fountain of the King, and the city was no more.

He wondered, yet again, what had happened to the young girl.

- - - - - -

After a while, Tyaron sensed RÃ*an's growing fatigue (this had been quite an emotional night for her, after all), and the light was growing, too, so he slowly stopped kissing her, far sooner than he wanted to. But this had been enough for one night, anyway; he didn't want to push things too much. Alagos granted them a few minutes of quiet together, then came climbing down. "Well, I think you two have had enough time to get re-acquainted; what shall we do now? The townspeople are starting to stir, and I think we will soon have this spot to ourselves no longer."

"Oh!" cried RÃ*an, "I need to attend to the morning duties at Orrodel!" and she got up quickly and went over to Alagos. Tyaron rose more slowly, adjusting his clothing, checking his sword and dagger. Alagos gave him a significant look, and was amused to see something that resembled a blush spread across Tyaron's strong features. With a half-smile, Tyaron made a final adjustment and joined RÃ*an and her brother. Rapid explanations and plans followed, and soon the three of them started on their way to Orrodel.

[Rían]

Eärniel looked out the window as the light grew in the east. She hadn't slept well that night; all night she had dreamed of Gondolin, and especially that last wonderful day. It had been a clear, bright day; walking through the city, she had decided to go by the King's fountain, one of her favorites (besides the one her father made for her mother, which was universally admired). Coming up to the fountain, she saw a lovely young woman sitting there, trailing her hands through its waters, deep in thought, and looking a bit sad. Coming closer, Eärniel saw that it was one of the three pereldar (half-elven) that lived in Gondolin. She had always liked something about the young woman's face, and decided, with the innocence of a child, that she would try to cheer her up.

"Hello there," she said as she came up to RÃ*an, and then, with the directness that children have, "Are you sad?"

RÃ*an was startled out of her reverie, and turned to look upon the bright, inquisitive face of the little girl. "Yes, I am, a bit," she answered. "Silly of me, I suppose, on such a lovely day."

"Well, when I feel sad, I like to go to fountains, too," said Eärniel, sitting down next to RÃ*an and putting her hand into the water.

"Yes, they are nice, aren't they?" RÃ*an said. The little girl's friendly heart was starting to melt away her blue mood.

"Mm-hmm," answered Eärniel. She opened her hand slightly, then clenched it quickly, making her own little minature fountain shoot up.

"You're quite good at that!" RÃ*an said, and leaned over to try it herself. Soon they were laughing and playing in the water with their hands, trying to see who could make the biggest fountain.

"You're one of the pereldar, aren't you?" asked Eärniel suddenly.

"Yes," answered RÃ*an, and her face grew wary, as if looking for something that she was afraid of.

"Is that why you were sad?" asked Eärniel inquisitively, noticing the change in her face.

RÃ*an, feeling that the question was not meant to be intrusive, answered, "Yes ... a bit. My father was a human, and he died many years ago now, and I still miss him terribly, especially when I see my friends with their fathers. And sometimes ..."

She stopped, recalling the age of her companion.

"Sometimes you feel different from everyone else?" asked Eärniel, who was very perceptive.

"How did you know?" asked RÃ*an in astonishment. "You've only just met me!"

"Yes, but I've watched you before - my friends have pointed you and your brother out, saying that you are pereldar like our beloved Prince Eärendil. And then I just started thinking about what it would be like to have people point you out and stare at you. And I thought that I probably wouldn't like it," she finished, and leaning over, shot up a great fountain with her little hand.

RÃ*an was silent; she didn't know what to say to this insightful little girl.

"But that doesn't matter. I like you! Can we be friends? And you can tell me about your father, too - I'd like to hear about the Followers. They must be nice people for your mother and the Princess Idril to have married them!"

RÃ*an smiled. "I would like to be your friend," she said, and leaning over, they started the fountain competition again in earnest, laughing and splashing each other.

[The last sane person]

The night was still, with the fog rolling in off of the river, putting the entire city of Tharbad under a shimmering silver blanket. All seemed at peace, the bustle of the day giving way to the slumber of darkness. Howsoever, that in such a peaceful night Ray lay restless rolled up in his blankets, staring at the ceiling of his room, unable to nudge his thoughts onto the pathways of dreams. He heaved a sigh, lacing his hands behind his head, staring unseeing at the ceiling, for his mind was running over the adventures of the day.

This whole week is like something out of a dream. I can't believe that I have met this woman! A smile stole its way to his lips, Ray… watch it. Viniglaen is quite a bit of woman you are dealing with. His mind again admonished. Again, his smile widened, Well, they DO say, 'great things oft come in small packages'…No exceptions here! I have only just met her, how can she set me aflame so? This is madness! with that, Viv's unique intoxicating scent, the way she seemed to fit him so well when they were dancing, but most of all her beautiful, mischievous, haunting eyes, all sprang unbidden to the forefront of his thoughts. Second wave to those memories flashed the way that her eyes held a smile just for him, as she asked him to call her simply Vivvie, dropping the “my lady� formalities.

“Gnah!� Ray rolled over and buried his face into his pillows, in a vain attempt to stop thinking about Viniglaen. He got up, sitting in bed rubbing his face “Oh, this simply will not do! I have a race to win! I can't keep thinking along these lines….I need some cold, cold air!� Getting up, he threw on some leggings, undershirt and got dressed in fresh, warm clothes and stuffed them in a pack, and grabbed some gloves. He got what he asked for, as soon as he opened the door to his little house, the bracing night air sucked the breath from him. Warming himself up, and getting his circulation going again, he padded his way to the stall, to fetch Volricom. He smiled, “We'll show them both! Man though I am, I need not tack nor bridle! And mighty among horses are you, that you need them not either!� Volricom poked his head out of the stall and nuzzled him, knowing full well that his master was off to the park to get some rest.

Ray threw on a blanket, and tied a makeshift halter with reins for Volricom. Murmuring to his horse, “Mighty though you be, I still don't trust you around those pretty young mares!� he grinned and mounted, as Volricom snorted and pranced in his defense. He cocked his ears back to Ray, and seemed to be saying “Well, if not me, who else shall keep the line strong? I don't mean to brag, but…the case is clear!� Volricom pulled himself up and strutted out of the stable, as to make clear his point. Ray, laughing, urged him on to the park. “Very well, my studley friend, I am weary and wish for rest. To the park with you, oh, Keeper of the Line!� Laughing, he looked into himself as Volricom trotted obediently onwards.

Raendil looked at this strange feeling inside his chest, as they rode to the park, turning it this way and that. Poking and testing it, what do I know of love? Is that it? Am I in love with Viv? This is getting silly! How did I manage to do that?! He shook his head, trying to dislodge that pesky thought, focusing instead on the echoing sound of Volricom's hooves, muffled by the fog to produce a very queer effect. It seemed like some one had put them in a box lined with cloth, and that the muffled beats were being bounced back at them two fold. Volricom trotted right up to the secret entrance to the clearing, and Ray ducked down under the cedars, taking some fragrant branches and making a bed for himself with them. Laying down, looking up at the stars he realized, I've given her more than just a horse, she has managed to snatch my heart in the bargain. I feel like I could fight and die for her, if need be. How can that happen? The only person that I have ever become so attached to is my King, Valandil and my friend Marthalion. And that took me years to get to know them. But I just met her!He grinned, finally coming to an unsettled peace with the idea of his attachment to Viv, After all, I could have done far, far worse.

[Udukhaturz]

Though the shards of wood that pressed into his backside were sharp against the tender flesh, Udu could not free himself from the chains which still held him. His body was well-conditioned, lean and muscular, from fighting long years in the east. Though he was strong, both physically and with magical skills, the chains would not yield to his struggles.

He was not going to ask Khamûl to release him. No! That would do nothing except fuel the Easterling’s already too arrogant heart. Worse even than that, Khamûl would consider that he had done Udu a great favor. Knowing Khamûl as he did, Udu was sure that soon enough, Khamûl would want to collect on the “debt� and involve him in one of Khamûl’s dirty little missions.

Udukhatûrz did not want to ally himself with any of his fellow Nazgûl, especially Khamûl. He did not trust any of the others; he knew them all too well. The “old days� were gone for good, he thought, the days when Sauron had commanded them and there was no gainsaying whatever the Dark Lord had told them to do. He wanted to be free of all of them, but he could never be free of his memories or what he had become.

“Khamûl,� he said, “I am not really concerned about what you might find as a suitable punishment for Lilly, whether it is whipping or a little knife work,� he looked at Lilly glaring at them from the bed. “Perhaps she needs a new beauty mark on her face to accentuate her loveliness, but that would be too noticeable. I might suggest her back, but not too high, though. It could be seen when she wore a low-necked dress. Remember, though, that whatever you do, she will scream. Therefore, I would suggest discretion.� Cursing, Buzukkumarz renewed his efforts to break loose from his chains, but fell back in futility.

“By the way,� Udu asked nonchalantly, “did you kill the maid?�

He began to sense other presences entering the building, more of his own kind, Chancellor, Aiwendis and Tolvadok. The situation was reminding him more and more of the old days which he wanted to forget. “At least, perhaps,� he thought, “someone will free us.�

[The last sane person]

Somewhere off in the distance, a bird sang its praises to the coming of the morning. Volricom got up from where he had lain next to Raendil and stretched, adding his happy whinny to the birds’ chorus. He leaned over and snuffled in his master’s ears, to alert him to the coming of the sun, and the impending race. Ray’s eyes snapped open, and he sat up stretching from his bed of cedar boughs.

Ray grinned and scratched the big stallion behind the ears, Volricom lipped Ray’s satchel and snuffled Ray’s sleep tousled hair. “Oh, fine you feed-bag with legs! Here is your treat.� Ray laughed and shook the canvas bag, and Volricom perked his ears and licked his lips as he heard the rustling of food. Still chuckling, Ray tied the nose bad up behind Volricom’s ears and let him munch on the specially prepared mixture of nuts, oats, barely, berries and other grains.

It was a special mixture he had perfected while staying with the mighty horse lords of Rhovanion, as a youth. His father was a fast friend of the houses of the Northmen; indeed, his mother was a northern noble woman. As such, during his stays with his mother’s people and the elves, he become a cunning horseman indeed. The mixture gave a great boost to stamina, energy and speed, not only for the horse, but for the rider as well. He had cooked a special batch earlier, the night before and was munching on that as he started to warm up his muscles.

For that, he had the elves of the wandering companies to thank. One summer, he accompanied Valandil and the royal household to Rivendell; Ray had run off one night. Escaping for a time into the gardens and adjoining field, where he saw a group of warriors, with a banner he did not recognize. They were singing, dancing and…sparring. This got Raendil curious. Without forgetting his manners, he went forward with a greeting, “Hail fair people! I am Raendil, son of Mathron. May I come to watch?� He was proud of his elvish, for he had picked it up faster than Valandil and could speak fluently.

The elves laughed, and called him over. One asked if he could sing, which made Raendil promptly forgot his shyness and amazed them all with his singing. In turn, he was amazed with their martial prowess. He had started to learn their stretching, workouts and drills with the wobbly movements of a child, but it was now replaced with the firm, confidant grace of a young man. Once thoroughly warmed up, he took the feed bag off and rode home to wash off and fetch his sword.

“I know its peace time, but outside these walls, anything is game, no point in being foolish!� With that he girt his battle sword around his waist, with which he and his fathers men defended the borders of their home. Leaping onto Volricom’s back, he took off for the starting point of the race, giving his mount plenty of warm up time.

[Lotesse]

When Viniglaen got to the back entrance of Orrodel House, she found the door slightly ajar. Puzzled, she entered the house, and quietly shut the door behind her. She felt her entire family's presence in the house. The intensity of presence extant in the spiritual air in Orrodel was such that Viv decided, rather than rush headlong into what very well may be a bubbling cauldron of dangerous Nazgullian emotions, she'd hang back for a bit.

Without a second thought, Viv turned and went down to the wine cellar. Her favourite plush chair and her beloved dog-eared history books were down there. Her miruvor was down there. So that's where Viv sequestered herself, for a good half hour, immersed in The History of Ardan Metallurgy, curled up in her plump comfy chair, sipping miruvor, and blocking out the emotional commotion she felt trying to bear down on her from the fighting Nazgul upstairs, and from her heart within.

[Gordis]

Orrodel, Night on Monday

"By the way," Udu asked nonchalantly, "did you kill the maid?"

Khamul was too busy to reply, concentrated on making a fairy regular grid of whiplashes across Lilly’s bottom. Lilly was rendered mute, and only moaned pitifully.

"Are you quite finished, Lord Khamul?" asked a cold voice from the door. All the assembled nazgul could have recognised the voice anywhere. The Captain's tall figure slowly materialised in the middle of the room, followed by two others, Aiwendis and Tolvadok.

Khamul turned from the bed, whip in hand, to offer an explanation. But the Morgul Lord waved him aside, frowning.

"I would be most obliged, if in the future you would recur to more dignified methods of punishment."

The Morgul Lord turned, surveying the room and its unhappy occupants. The three paralysed nazgul felt their minds briefly searched, and then, with a word from the Captain, they felt themselves free.

Khamul’s eyes blazed, as he saw himself deprived of his prey. Turning to the Captain, he spat "They have conspired against me! They bespelled me with a dirty wax figure!"

Lilly sat up, hissing from pain, and exclaimed, pointing at Khamul with a shaking arm "The bloody bastard has nearly KILLED me this morning!!! It was my right to repay him!"

"If I punished her, I did it on your command, My Lord" Khamul appealed to the Captain.

"You are mistaken. I told you to reprimand her, not to punish."

From the bewildered look on Khamul’s face it was evident that he hardly knew the difference.

"Anyway, continued the Morgul Lord, "if this morning Lilaenwen got more than she deserved, this night she certainly got not enough. So in average you may consider that you got your due, Lilly."

"But what about them?" asked Khamul, pointing at Udu and Buz. This bloody tark has nearly cut off my head!"

The Morgul Lord smiled. "Well, now he has plenty of wood splinters in his tender parts".

"Buzukkumarz, don’t stare at me like that. Bring your kit of potions and attend to Lilaenwen and Udukhaturz. I will look at your neck myself, Khamul".

The Morgul Lord went to the only remaining chair and sat down, stretching his long legs in front of him tiredly.
"From now on, any quarrels should be settled outside the city. Our position here is too precarious. There will be no more fighting tonight. Viniglaen, I see you are here at last. You will play the hostess, as our Lilly is incapacitated. But first, take us out of this pigsty, somewhere where we could drink and talk."

[Lotesse]

But the more she read the book, the less the words made sense to her, and the more she sipped the miruvor, the sharper her thoughts became. It was no use. She could not get him out of her mind. Even her body felt different, her heart felt unnaturally sped up, her fingertips and toetips felt tingly, her scalp felt warm and her belly lurched about within her as if she were pregnant. It wasn't a child within Viv, though. Viniglaen was pregnant with her first experience of love, and as yet she couldn't figure that out.

Irritated and happy at the same time, she gave up trying to read. She got out of the chair, set the book down, set the glass of miruvor down, and combed her hand through her hair, trying to think straight. For a distraction, and to help herself think, she restlessly walked through the cave-like wine cellar, a cellar which encompassed the entire floor-plan of Orrodel and then some. She walked, holding a torch aloft for light, and here and there she stopped to take out a bottle and pretend to herself to be interested in its label. If she weren't so phenomenally distracted by the new beautiful turmoil within her, she'd have been able to remember all the extremely rare vintages she kept running across; indeed, Orrodel House had one of Tharbad's best kept secrets within its cellar walls - an outstanding collection of wines and liquors, dating back many hundreds of years.

In love! Was she in love? 'What is love,' mused a very frustrated yet unreasonably ecstatic Viv. 'What is this, this LOVE anyway? I love my family, don't I? But suddenly I feel like Raendil is a missing extension of ME, of who I really am, and if he cannot be with me, I'd forever be missing a part of me. Is THAT love?'

At one point in her walk, she paused - directly above the part of the house where the other Nazgul were talking. Viv put aside her feverish musings momentarily, so she could tune into what was being said up there. No good staying out of the loop. What she heard made her very grateful to herself for having had the common sense to stay down in the wine cellar while her crazy family was at it.

[Lady Marion Magdalena]

After seeing the young lady put her horse away and enter the house Mahtaliel decided that this watching was quite ridiculous. Certainly they were an odd family, but she would learn nothing by watching their house in the night. The fog was thickening again anyway, and she still had paperwork to deal with before the morning.

Swiftly she made her way back along the wall, as she passed above the north end of the commerce building her sharp ears heard a faint roar from the direction of the mansion. What in arda were they up to this late? She would have to watch them carefully indeed.

Quickening her pace she reached the stairs, rather than going all the way down and around to the front of her house she stopped halfway down and leapt across the short distance between the stairs and her open second story window.

Once inside she made herself a cup of tea, settled down at her desk and began to sort through the tedious pile of work.

[Lotesse]

Viv left the wine cellar, and headed to the boudoir upstairs where everyone was.

"...there will be no more fighting tonight," the Morgul Lord was saying. Without turning his head to look at her, as Viv walked tentatively into the room, Ilmenzor continued.
"Viniglaen, I see you are here at last." Viv gracefully made a quick curtsy in response. "You will play the hostess, as our Lilly is incapacitated. But first, take us out of this pigsty, somewhere where we could drink and talk."

"Yes, my Lord," Viv answered. She could swear she heard a sarcastic mimicry coming from Lilly's head - 'Yes, my Lord! Stupid Viv, where was she when I needed her?'

"We could go to the big study upstairs, the room that overlooks the back garden" Viv suggested. "The drapes are very heavy and thick, and I don't think even Rian has discovered it yet because I was just in that room the other day, and the sheets haven't even been taken off the furniture yet."

"Very well," said the Morgul Lord. "The study it is." Buz assisted the contrite and battered Lilly, as they made their way up to the third floor, following Viv.

"Lilly, Five, can I get you two something from the kitchen? You guys must be peckish by now, after all that's transpired tonight."

"Carpaccio sandwich," mumbled Five.

"Surprise me," Lilly said.

While the others started "catching up" with each other - and they all had much to say to one another, Viv disappeared downstairs to the kitchen to make Lil and Five some little sandwiches. She also went down to the cellar real quick and fetched a few bottles - some aged cognac, some sherry, a bottle of Nurn '68 just in case anyone was hankering for that.


Upstairs in what was to become named their secret situation room, Buz gently healed Lil on one of the sprawling settees, and Gordis made herself comfortable in a plush chair near them, while Udu, Tolvadok and the Morgul Lord began an earnest and important discussion which was to involve them all. Presently, Viv came back with the drinks and litle sandwiches, and removed the rest of the sheets from the furniture, and busied herself for a minute securing the room against any possibility of unwanted intrusion or prying ears or eyes. There was only one window overlooking the courtyard and part of the garden below, but it was very thickly and heavily draped, and had been sealed shut for centuries. There was no fireplace in that room, and the walls were very, very thick. There was only the smallish, extremely thick non-descript door for entrance and exit.

[The last sane person]

Marthalion woke up at the crack of dawn, stretching his long lean limbs. “Ah, today is the day! We will finally be able to see if Mister Bragging-Britches is all he is cracked up to be in the saddle!� With that, he set to warming up and fetching his horse. This was a topic of debate between the two young men, seeing as Marty was one of the best of Arnor, and it was rare that he or his horse Ithilion could be beaten, it only happened a few times before, and twice it was to elves that he lost. With that, he silently crept out of his room, not wanting to disturb Val or his counselors whom, to Marty’s ears, were greatly enjoying their beauty sleep, snoring away in the land of dreams. As he passed Valandil’s chamber, his grin grew, and he had to muffle a laugh.

Ah, my mighty king! Man among men! One of the highest born, of the line of Elros. Graced with the life span thrice the length of mere commoners, the strength of ten men and snores louder than a hundred combined! As if in answer to that thought, Val let out one long snore. Marty allowed himself a small chuckle, and glanced back. I hope that doofus remembered what I told him about the race…After all, Ray and I have only been arguing about this for a year. If he gets all piss-anty with us for not babying him for a few hours…I swear I am gonna give him one in the kisser! For a brief moment, Marty was tempted to go remind the king, Oh to Mordor with it, if I wake him now, that will earn me the royal boot up the arse like no other! Rather, Marty opted to write him a note;

VALANDIL!

If we aren’t back here yet, just remember that Raendil and I are having it out in our horse race. Don’t panic, more than likely we’ll be back before you even get up to read this note, though probably you will have woken half the city with your incessant nasal thunder!

Yours,

Marthalion

With that he was fully warmed up and out to the stables to fetch and groom Ithilion. The great silver stallion whinnied when he saw his preferred person striding into the stables. He knew what was going to go down, and he was eager for it. As a stallion, as soon as Ithilion met Volricom, he wanted to see who was the better. Volricom beat him hands down in fighting, having been raised and used in battles with Raendil, but in plain speed, Ithilion was probably a match for the big bay. Not to mention, Ithilion had a soft spot for the mare Laslech. That was what the fight was about, after all, only fitting that a healthy male like Ithilion to be curious about such a cute little filly. Compounded with the fact that Laslech was quite the flirt. He stamped his hooves in annoyance as he remembered his failed attempt at flirting, driven back with a pair of flying back hooves. Mares… Well I’ll show her! She can’t keep up with me in this race! Pity that snot Volricom isn’t going to be here, I’d whup him too!

Marty picked up on his horse’s feelings. “Hey there boy, I hope you are well rested, cause its not just Laslech you are to be racing against. Volricom is to be there too! Laslech has a new owner!� Ithilion perked his ears and gave an eager bounce on his hind legs. “yes, that she does! It’s Ray’s girlfriend, Viniglaen, who owns her now. I say old fellow, we are in for some fun either way!� he groomed and tacked up Ithilion, lost in thought. Yes, we will have fun indeed…And I will get to have a look at this young woman who caught Raendil so. Must be quite the lady to have so thoroughly snared him. Marty smiled fiercely, “Well, Mighty or Not, We wont let either of them have an easy win, are we boy?" Ithilion mirrored his sentiments exactly, and reared as he charged towards the designated race start, making sure to warm up his muscles appropriately.

[Earniel]

Downstairs Itazel, Eärniel's host, was already up and preparing break-fast. Eärniel could smell the fresh baked bread when she came down the stairs.

"You're up early, Itazel," she remarked when she entered the kitchen.

Itazel nearly dropped the plates but managed to hold on to them in the last second. Eärniel jumped forward to help but it wasn't necesary.

"My, Eärniel, you do tread softly on those elven feet of yours. I didn't hear you coming!"

"I didn't mean to startle you, Itazel." Eärniel apologized. "Here, let me take those plates."

Itazel waved her away. "Nonsense," she said sternly, "I'm not a frail old woman that needs to be pampered! I'll have you know that I ran this inn for well over seventy years before closing it down. And I still could! So sit down and eat."

Eärniel smiled as she obediently sat down. "I would never dare to refer to you as old and frail, Itazel. Not after I see the scolding you sometimes give to Danor."

Danor was Itazel's hasband, and even over a hundred years, he was still a tall and strong man. And still two heads taller than his wife. But neither that or Itazel's grey hairs stopped her from scolding him unmercifully if he did something that wasn't to her liking.

They had run the small inn together for most of their lives. But both their children had moved out by now and Itazel and Danor had decided it was about time they closed down the inn after that, to enjoy their last years together in some peace. Eärniel was therefore their only guest.

"The old dear," said Itazel, and her tone and smile indicated that the scolding was never meant unkindly. "But sometimes I do think working so long at the smithy in his young years has melted his brain."

Itazel put down a jug of tea on the table and sat down opposite of Eärniel.

"I didn't hear you come home yesterday, but your friend that came along in the evening and brought back your lugage, said you'd be back soon. I trust the problem is solved at home?" She asked.

Eärniel smiled when she recalled Nardol's 'monsters', the pike and the beavers that she had dealt with the day before.

"Yes, that's been taking care of. I don't think I'll have to leave so soon again."

"Good to hear. So tell me then," Itazel leant forward with a conspiratory glint in her eyes. "What do you think of our young King? Surely you did you dance with him!"

"Hm, he's nice," Eärniel said before taking a bite from the still warm bread.

"Nice? No no no, that just won't do. I want details, girl, details!"

Eärniel laughed. "Very well then, let me see... We did dance, for a short while any way. He's a good dancer, definitely learned a thing or two in Imladris. He's handsome, very handsome actually. There's this slightly Elvish touch to him, probably due to his lineage and youth spent in Imladris. I can definitely how that attracks so much attention of the young women of Tharbad. He's friendly, genuinely friendly I mean. Not the polite, somewhat false friendliness you come across on these human formal occasions... "

Itazel leant backwards again and nodded. "Ah," she said knowingly.

"What 'ah'?" Eärniel asked suspiciously.

"You like him." Itazel said flatly.

Eärniel nearly choked in her tea. "What is that suppose to mean? It was only one dance!"

"Now now, dear. You do not need to get so defensive about it. I said you liked him, I didn't say you were falling head over heels for him. You're the one who immediatly thought of that meaning."

"I am not de-" Eärniel started, but stopped realising she would just prove Itazel's point by saying it. She finished her tea and stood up.

"Itazel, you can be very infuriating, you know that?"

"Oh yes, Danor is sure to tell me so about every day," Itazel replied with a grin that belied her many years.

"It doesn't mean you're right about everything, though," Eärniel said with a smile as she took her cloak from the rack and donned it.

"No, but it doesn't mean I have to be wrong, either!" Itazel's voice came from the kitchen.

Eärniel laughed heartedly and pulled the door shut behind her. It still was early and she still had time for a morning stroll through the park before the day truly started for the rest of Tharbad.

[Rían]

Eärniel closed her eyes and smiled as the fresh morning breeze blew gently on her face. "Ahh, this is what I needed!" she thought to herself, and stepped out briskly.

She hadn't slept well last night - scenes from the reception kept running through her head over and over, like her mind was telling her that there was something there that needed to be connected. But try as she might, she couldn't put any of the pieces together. The King figured prominently in the scenes - walking into the hall; greeting the guests; coming up to join RÃ*an and herself with the Rochdel players; making the toast (and apparently stepping on some toes without knowing it!); his graceful adaption to the customs of the host as he drained the cup (there! there was something there... but what?); his dance (or dances) with RÃ*an that raised an eyebrow or two among those who knew him; her discovery by the fountain - and on and on, playing over and over in her head.

"Well, if I'm going to have someone stuck in my head, at least he's an agreeable and handsome someone!" she thought with a smile, as she fluffed up her pillow and turned over, and finally went to sleep.

As she approached the park the next morning, she was still musing on these questions, and didn't even notice RÃ*an approaching her until she was quite close.

RÃ*an had spotted her friend long before Eärniel had seen them. "Oh, it's Eärniel!" she told her two companions happily. "I can't wait for you to meet her!" Turning to her brother, she said, "Alagos, do you remember the little girl at the Fountain of the King that last day in Gondolin? The one whose kite you got down from the tree, and whom you teased so much with your rock trick? That's her, right there! I found her at her father's fountain on the way out of the city and took her with me, since her parents and sisters were gone. We spent many years together, and have just now found each other again!"

Alagos, remembering his dreams, answered more thoughtfully than RÃ*an was used to hear him speaking. "Yes, I remember her well," he said pensively, and she looked up inquisitively at his unusually thoughtful face. But then his face changed, and he said conspiratorially, with his usual twinkle in his eyes, "Don't tell her our names or who we are at first! Just introduce us as your friends, OK? I'd like to try something." Seeing RÃ*an's look of doubt, he assured her, "Don't worry, little sister. I only want to see if she remembers the rock game."

Eärniel, hearing voices, looked up and was surprised to see her friend with two men - men of the Eldar, she could tell, but from the look of some of their gear, men of ... Gondolin?

RÃ*an ran up to her friend and took her hands, pressing something into one of them. She leaned over to embrace her friend and whispered, "Don't say anything - you'll need that shortly!", and then more loudly, "Eärniel! I'm so glad to see you!"

"And I, you, RÃ*an!" she said with a smile, although with a slightly puzzled expression. "And who are your friends?"

Alagos stepped forward with a smile on his face and held out his left hand with a stone on it. With his right, he hit the bottom of his left hand, sending the stone high up into the air. He reached up and swiftly swung both hands through the air in the vicinity of the flying stone, then brought them down before Eärniel's face. "Which hand?" he said with a mischevious smile.

Instantly Eärniel recognized him. "Alagos! It's you!" she said in astonishment and joy.

"Yes, it is, and you STILL can't answer my question, can you!" he laughed back.

"Oh, yes I can," she said. "Which hand? THIS one!" and she opened her own hand which held the stone that RÃ*an had slipped into it.

Tyaron roared with laughter at the look on Alagos' face, and soon Alagos joined in. RÃ*an and Eärniel gave each other the equivalent of an Elvish high-five. Alagos stopped laughing with difficulty, and said, "You win, my lady!" and bowed gallantly to her. "And I'll deal with YOU later!" he added with a wink in an aside to his sister, realizing why she had bent over to brush something off her shoe right before they hailed Eärniel.

[Rían]

After introducing Tyaron to Eärniel and catching up as well as they could in a few minutes, Eärniel thought to check if they needed a place to stay, as she could hardly imagine the men would be welcome at Orrodel.

Eärniel asked them, "Where are you staying? Have you eaten yet this morning?"

Tyaron answered gracefully, "We are guests of Yavanna Kementari the blessed, and we dine at her bountiful table."

Alagos interrupted. "What he is saying is that we're living off the land and sleeping in trees!" As they all laughed, he added, "And I, for one, am open to other options. Do you have any to suggest?"

"Why? Hasn't she served breakfast yet?" answered Eärniel slyly.

Alagos laughed and bowed to her again. "Your wit, as well as your stature and beauty, has grown since I saw you last," he said to her with a smile that RÃ*an had seldom seen on his handsome face. Eärniel usually didn't like compliments, but from this man, they were different - kind of an acknowledgement of an equal to an equal - and sincerely meant, not just pretty, empty words. She inclined her head in thanks, and then continued, "I believe there might be some rooms at some of the inns, if you would prefer that to trees. And for breakfast, I would suggest the Red Herring - if you're lucky, there will be more there than what you have been used to recently!"

Explanations that RÃ*an had to go to Orrodel first followed, and as the men were as yet unwilling to leave her, they all headed over that way, talking and reminiscing about their times together.

[CrazySquirrel]

Zimra was trying to sleep in her little servant’s room with red and yellow curtains and a fine view on the courtyard. But sleep eluded her. When she managed to sleep at all, her sleep was disturbed by dreams.
What a day it has been! Promoted to a lady’s maid the first day of her service! She was worried about the masters, though. She was afraid of the grim Professor, and disturbed by the young Master. This one loved his bottle too much, that was certain. It would be a shame to quit such a good place because of him. But he was a handsome lad, even if he had deplorable manners. Zimra smiled. Not that she will ever allow him anything…

At this moment, Zimra heard heavy footsteps in the corridor. Man’s footsteps. It was strange, as the servant’s wing was nearly empty. Only three of the rooms on the second floor were occupied. Apart from Zimra herself, there were only Melwen and Rian the elf.
Fumbling, Zimra lighted a candle and put her dress on. The footsteps passed her door and went down the corridor. Opening her door, Zimra peeped out. She saw a man carrying Melwen! Her cousin seemed quite unwell, her head lolling and tears in her eyes. Zimra ran after the man, who turned. It was Arastud, the stableboy.

"What is wrong with my cousin?" cried Zimra.

The man didn’t reply at once, he seemed to choose his words carefully.

"I am afraid, Zimra, that she has drank too much. She came to the stables and was ill. Please take care of her."

Zimra eyed him suspiciously. She did not know him at all, but she could bet that he was not telling her all the truth, if not lying. But Melwen needed attention, so after a curt nod to the departing man, Zimra proceeded to put Melwen in bed. The girl told her nothing, only cried softly. Zimra gave her a cordial and took some herself. Soon Melwen was asleep. Zimra took her candle, returned to her own room and finally fell asleep herself.

[Udukhaturz]

Freed of Khamûl’s chaining spell, Udukhatûrz expressed his gratitude to the Morgul Lord in thought through ósanwe-kenta, thought-speech. He felt no such gratitude when Buzukkumarz had taken a knife and extracted the shards of wood from his wounded backside. Then he had hissed, “Do you have to be so blasted rough with that knife!�

It would take a lot of wine tonight to soothe Udu. He was angry at all of them. The Morgul Lord, simply because he could exert power over him if he wanted; Khamûl for casting the spell on him; Aiwendis for asking him to go to warn them; Buzukkumarz for his part in the plot against Khamûl but mostly for his botched surgery techniques; Lilly for her contributions to Khamûl’s anger; Tolvadok because he had never liked the man in the first place; and Viv simply because he was in a bad mood.

He stood in front of the heavily curtained, draped window upstairs, holding a goblet filled with Nurn '68. At least the wine was good, he thought, and better even than a good vintage was the power he felt once again renewed in his Ring.

He looked about the other assembled ringbearers in the room. He doubted that they trusted him any more than he trusted them.

He turned and opened the drape a crack and looked out into the darkness. He could not detect any danger below. He looked back into the room at the others and smiled his icy, cold smile.

“I had felt a summons whilst I dwelt in the East and I knew that summons all too well. I was being called here for some purpose.� He looked directly at the Morgul Lord. “Do not expect me to believe that all of you have suddenly taken an interest in educating frail mortals. I know there is a game afoot,� he said, “and I know there can be only one winner... But there can be many losers. Why am I here?� he asked cautiously.

[Serenoli]

Tolvadok followed Viv as she led them all to a large room, with only one door, and heavily draped windows. There were also quite a number of armchairs, settees and tables… the perfect place to have a good talk without interupption.

Buz had brought his potions, meanwhile and was tending gently to Lily. Udu did not seem so badly hurt. He was standing now by the window. Khamul, however, was rather neglected. The Morgul Lord seemed to have forgotten about looking at his wound, and Khamul was seated in a corner, alone and morose, trying hard to tie up his neck by himself. Gordis sat demurely by herself in another corner.

The Morgul Lord was seated near the center of the room. He was deep in thought, and as though waiting for the patching up to be completed, and for Viv to return from the kitchen, where she had gone to bring some food for Buz and Lily. Tolvadok wished he had reminded her to bring something for him… after the long journey, he was rather starved… but he could wait…

What was more pressing than his hunger were the questions in his head. He waited for someone else to start, and then growing impatient, when he saw no one was forthcoming, he was about to burst out, when Udu beat him to it

“I had felt a summons whilst I dwelt in the East and I knew that summons all too well. I was being called here for some purpose.� He looked directly at the Morgul Lord. “Do not expect me to believe that all of you have suddenly taken an interest in educating frail mortals. I know there is a game afoot,� he said, “and I know there can be only one winner... But there can be many losers. Why am I here?� he asked cautiously.

The Morgul Lord seemed not to have heard him, but Tolvadok replied:

‘My part is easily explained. For many years, I have wandered the lands to the East, sometimes joining in battles, and sometimes searching for… for the Dark Lord, for I believe him still to be alive.’ Several pairs of eyes flashed at the mention of the Dark Lord, but no one interrupted him.

‘And then, a hundred and six days ago, near the Ered Mithrin, I felt a call… someone was telling me to go South, and this call was so much like to the call of the Dark Lord, though much fainter, that I came hither at once.’

Meanwhile, Viv came back with a tray of sandwiches and drinks, and then busied herself removing sheets from the furniture. Tolvadok eyed the sandwiches hungrily for a moment, and then continued.

‘As I approached, I seemed to see visions of the walls of a city I had only seen once many years ago – I recognised Tharbad, and I remembered furthermore who lives in Tharbad… the Morgul Lord in the guise of the Chancellor. I know this because I was there when he captured Ilmenzor, and I knew that Gordis was here with him. And so I knew that the Morgul Lord had summoned me, and I hastened even more. Now I am here, I find that all, almost all of us are gathered here. And I also wish someone to tell me what we are doing here.’

[Lotesse]

"Well, I'm here for an education," piped up Viv. Gordis cast her an admonishing look for speaking out of turn like a naive kid, and Ilmenzor just smiled slightly as he prepared to address them all upon this ever-so-important question. Abashed, and a little bit pink in the face, Viv lowered her head and brought the sandwiches over to Buz and Lilly. Buz didn't want his sandwich after all, though; so Viv, picking up on Tolvadok's hungry vibe, wordlessly brought some carpaccio sandwiches over to where he stood, still waiting for a response.

[Rían]

Arabud was bored. His big brother had left on some errand, muttering something about a wheel.

Arabud tossed and turned, then got up with a glint in his eye.

Arabud was a climber, and he had been eyeing the enticing window ledges and other interesting climbing features on Orrodel's main building.

He got up from his bed and crept quietly over to a likely-looking starting place. There were lights on in the windows, and - what was that noise?!?!

He would have to be careful.

[Rían]

Arabud climbed up a few feet and then slipped, sliding down the wall and scraping his elbow so that it bled.

He went back into the stable to tend to it.

He heard some more noises from the building.

"Hmm," he thought, "maybe I should just go to bed after all."

He considered his next move.

[Gordis]

The Morgul Lord was deep in thought, while the patching up and food distribution was being completed. He accepted a silver goblet of Nurn and swirled the dark wine in it distractedly. With a curt word he sent Aiwendis to help Khamul with his injured neck, and she applied the dressings neatly, eyeing her assembled brethren warily.

At last, Udu and Tolvadok could bear it no longer. Hearing their words, the Morgul Lord lifted his head and smiled his icy smile. Keeping his eyes on the circle of attentive faces, he said:

"You were summoned indeed, for a quest awaits you in Tharbad. You knew not who summoned you, but you are here in the nick of time. Yes you are called for a purpose"

He took a sip of the wine and continued, his eyes suddenly alight with passion.

"The Ash Nazg is missing. We must find and secure it. All our future, nay, our very existence and the fate of our Master depend on it."

With the last words the Morgul Lord looked at Tolvadok whose eyes widened and cheeks blushed slightly at the mention of the name of the Dark Lord.

"We will not speak now of winners and loosers. If the Elves have got the Ring, our existence is at stake, for they may destroy the One at their whim. More likely, an imposter will claim Ash Nazg, and, if he is strong enough, he may grow mighty and enslave us."

"..again!" continued Aiwendis mentally. Tolvadok must have caught her thought, as he turned his burning eyes on her. Aiwendis now sat in a corner, on a low settee, next to Udu. Feeling Tolvadok's gaze, she shriveled and shifted nearer to Udu, but he looked at her with hostility.

"We must find and obtain the Ring, continued the Morgul Lord sternly. To accomplish that we shall again work together. Long have I sought the knowledge of its whereabouts, but I can't be certain even now".

He told them about wannabe Dark-Lord Isildur and his pathetic fall.

"Lord Khamul has searched the Gladden on my command, and he traced and killed all the orcs that were involved in the fight. None had what we seek."
"That much is clear, the Ring was at Isildur's finger when the King abandoned his men and ran for the river. What happened next is a matter of conjecture."

"I hoped that the Ring was given to Isildur's son, Valandil, as it should have been. But this night, this hope was shaken. Did any of you feel the presence of the Ring at the reception? I didn't, and I always feel it most keenly."
"Then, when the talk was skillfully brought to the subject, the King displayed no emotion. You know," continued the Captain gravely, "even the Dark Lord himself couldn't remain indifferent when referring to Ash Nazg. Nobody can, who has ever seen or touched it. "

Aiwendis looked at the Captain. There was deep longing in his eyes, perfectly reflected in the eyes of the others. No woman could ever trouble them so...

The Captain continued. "So, most likely, Valandil has never SEEN the ring, perhaps he hasn't even HEARD about it".

"Viv couldn't remain silent any longer. "I have searched his house, while he was away! I found nothing."

The Captain frowned at the interruption, then nodded. "Even if the Ring belonged to him, I doubt he would bear leaving IT at home, much less at Annuminas or Rivendell. Have you ever parted with your Rings, while you were living men? No, you always kept it with you."

"Then where is the Ring?" asked Tolvadok.

"It must be in Rivendell. It is more than likely that the Ring was brought there along with Narsil. But the Elves must have denied Valandil his legacy. The broken sword was all that he got. Unless, the Elves had killed Isildur themselves and taken the Ring."

"And what if the Ring is indeed lost, as men of Gondor think? What if it is in the River?" asked Aiwendis in a shaky voice.

The Morgul Lord's eyes were cold again. " Have you ever seen a Ring of Power slipping from someone's finger? The Rings look after themselves, the Ash Nazg even more so. If the Ring is in the River and even the Elves were unable to find it, then we have nothing to worry about. It is the best hiding place possible. But we cannot trust this false security! We must know for certain!"

[Telcontar_Dunedain]

"I agree," said Khamûl. "I feel the Ring keenly when it is with 10 leagues of me. It is not here in Tharbad, and I very much doubt it is in Annuminas either. I suspect the elves of Imladris. There is great power in that valley, and not least that of Master Elrond. If one of power comes to wield it then they could have the power to destroy us if they so wished. We need the Ash Nazg back. I for one am not willing to see myself or certain others here destroyed because of an elf."

[Udukhaturz]

The Morgul Lord stared down into his wine goblet, watching the contents swirl as he slowly twirled the goblet in his hand. He concentrated his thoughts on Aiwendis, who was cringing beside Udu on the settee. Upset by Tolvadok’s burning stare, she had sought sympathy from Udu but had received only a glare in return.

My dear, you must be pleasant to Tolvadok. Your reactions are all too obvious. He glanced over to her and smiled coldly. Can you not find better use for all your feminine wiles? I am not altogether pleased with your attempts to beguile the king, either. Get a hold of yourself, my dear. Surely, you can do better than this.

He looked up from the wine goblet and regarded all their faces in turn. “You have asked a very good question, Lord Udukhatûrz. Be secure in knowing for now that you are part of a great plan, and more will be revealed to you later.� He did not like the sullen look on Udu’s face, but the Morgul Lord’s cold eyes revealed nothing. He knew that Udu really had no choice in carrying out any plans that the Morgul Lord devised. Really, none of them did. The Ring of greatest power was his to command.

"Lord Khamûl, if the Ring were here in Tharbad, both of us would have sensed it. It is not here."

The Captain’s gaze settled on Tolvadok. “It is well that you have returned to us. Your zeal for the Master and your willingness to find Ash Nazg and return it are quite admirable.� He looked around at the others again. “It would be well if all were as eager as you, Lord Tolvadok and you, Lord Khamûl."

He turned to Lilaenwen. "You and Buzukkumarz are never to do such a thing as you did today. We must be united and not turning against each other. Should you conspire in your minds to inflict damage upon another of us, I will deal with you myself, and I doubt you would enjoy that," he warned. "Let it stay there and let us resolve to do better. We have other concerns.

"Some of you, though,� he said, “stray a little far from the path and let their involvement with mortals jeopardize the integrity of our quest.� He sipped from his wine goblet and his cold voice was harsh. “Your primary dealings with mortals should be to bend them to whatever use they might be to us. That is their only value!

“Lords Khamûl, Buzukkumarz, Tolvadok and Udukhatûrz, for the time, attend to your responsibilities here. Keep King Valandil and his friends under surveilance, but discreetly. Whatever you do,� he looked towards Khamûl, “do it neatly and do it well, and attract no attention whatsoever. I doubt that we have heard the last of that yet.� He drank from his goblet again. "The Elves amongst us, especially Professor Mahtaliel, are potentially dangerous. Watch them, but always be most polite. Elves value that... and flattery.

"My lords, keep your gear packed, your weapons ready, your minds well in control, and be ready at a moment’s notice to leave this city and go wherever I might send you. If you are employed as a professor here, beg off as being sick or having to visit friends in the country. Any excuse you might have to be away. All of you have a purpose,� he emphasized.

The Captain looked around the room again and his smile was not too unpleasant. “Lady Aiwendis, Lilaenwen and Viniglaen, the beauty of all three of you is superb, without compare. No mortal woman is quite so fair. Use your beauty, use your wit, and as the saying goes, wrap the mortals around your little fingers with your charm. Have them eating out of your hands as you would lapdogs. All mortals can prove useful, but some far more than others.

His eyes became far away and he thoughts were hidden to all. “Think of it,� he said out loud, “Ash Nazg and its power.� He looked down to his own Ring, which sparkled brightly on his finger. “Think of the power.�

Udukhatûrz thought to himself and tried to guard his mind tightly. “Yes, and, no doubt, my lord, you could see it upon your own finger if you could and have us as your fawning slaves!�

The Black Captain stood up. “I propose a toast. To the Master! To Ash Nazg and to our success!� The others rose to their feet and lefted their goblets in the air. Then when the Morgul Lord had drained his goblet dry, the others drank theirs. “Please sit back down,� he said, “and enjoy the rest of the night.�

[Lotesse]

"I will enjoy nothing until we all come to a consensus, as one body," said Viniglaen, refusing yet to sip to the toast. " Until we have all, with our Lord's approval and consent, agreed upon a singular path of action."

The room was eerily quiet, for a long moment.

"And," Viv continued, "If we are to in fact find this notoriously slippery Ash Nasg, has it occured to anyone to either dive ourselves, perish the thought, or hire someone to dive for us to search the riverbed floors of the Anduin for the One Ring, if indeed it has loosed itself from the finger of that moron Isildur?"

Nobody had anything to say to this.

"And about mortals," continued Viniglaen, " I have recently become more close than comfortable if that's how it can be described, with a very important and strategically ideal mortal," and at this point Viv turned her emphasis to her Lord. She continued. "The mortal man I speak of is Raendil, the close childhood friend to Valandil, Isildur's son. And he invited me to a horse-race tomorrow, early morning. Oh - I forgot to mention, he also gifted me with an actual Meara, and a phenomanal one at that who finds no fear in me at all, my Lord. She's a beautiful horse. Just beautiful."

A heavy pause of thought-rumbled silence ensued, before the Morgul Lord voiced his response.

[Valandil]

Between times of very deep sleep when he would snore more loudly and deeply than usual, Valandil tossed and turned in his lighter sleep, muttering, "Earndis.... Aiweniel...."

Suddenly, he jumped up with a start, "EAIWERIANDIELS!!"

He was awake now, sitting up, breathing hard, clutching the covers up against himself. He soon recovered though. 'It was just a dream then... such a dream!'

He relaxed and sat back against the headboard and his eyes looked about the room. It was still dark, but a touch of gray lightened the sky out his window. He saw the familiar sights of his bed chamber - and the outer garments he had removed and folded neatly, stacked on a chair. Over the back of the chair hung... the sword!

Valandil bolted up from bed and was at the chair right away, but then paused for a moment to look the sword over. He reached out slowly, picked up the belt to which it was strapped and sat at the edge of his bed. He held it by the sheath, pommel up, then placed a hand on the hilts and pulled the sheath down to observe the entire sword. Marvelous workmanship! And it gleamed in what little light there was in the room. Finally, he placed both hands on the pommel and directed his thoughts toward it.

'Well,' he heard in his mind, 'you're back now... and we are alone, are we not? No longer among enemies. Who are you now?'

'We are alone, but I knew of no enemies from before. I am Valandil, youngest son of Isildur. My father... and my elder brothers... are gone. I am King, and you, my father's sword, have come to me.'

'Valandil? The small child we left in Imladris?' There was a pause. 'I was called by your father Ithilmegil... The Moon Sword. And 582 moons it has been since he laid me aside. We were fresh from battle once more, and I felt renewed... striking Orc flesh again, drawing Orc blood... after 22 moons of peace, it was like the 93 moons of war all over again! But... he set me aside and I never felt his hand again. I felt him in you though, the moment you touched me.'

There was an awkward silence. Finally Valandil asked, puzzled, 'What of these 'enemies' you sensed about us before? What do you know of them? How certain were you?'

'There is no doubt. I have smote them before, and we counted them as we struck them... never do I forget a foe, especially a foe so fey. Yet you have escaped them? Charmed must you be, more than your father even?'

'I knew not that I was ever in peril. You cautioned me of something else... when I was to take a drink and start the evening.' Valandil paused once more, trying to make sense of his suspicions. 'After draining the cup, I found a gem... a topaz, at the bottom. Was there evil in that?'

Was the sword laughing? 'No... no evil in that, except perhaps to thwart another. Certain gems can diminish the effects of magic potions... or augment them...'

'...most notably a love potion. You, my new master... seem to have fallen for the oldest trick in the book!' thought the sword and then Valandil was certain that the sword chuckled.

'What can I do?' asked Valandil.

'Well... (and the sword seemed to do the mental equivalent of clearing its throat) I know something of these things. Someone may have worked mischief with that cup. You were not poisoned, or you would be dead. So whatever other effects were planned - we can perhaps amend. Take me to whatever serves you for a laboratory, or a kitchen around here and I will instruct you in making a proper concoction. It will be unpleasant, but you must allow it to do its work. Once you are purged, you can further halt the effects by consuming great quantities of water and of wine. But still... you may not be totally out of the woods, kid. Come now, let's go.'

'One thing more though,' continued the sword. 'One of those enemies from moons gone by... has been in this very chamber... not very long ago... less than a moon.'

Valandil put on a housecoat against the chill air and carried his sword to the kitchen. If Mahtaliel was truly an Elf of Eregion, and if she had anything to do with the topaz... was there some struggle going on among the Elves over him? Well... he could sort that out later.

'What a RUBE!' thought the sword. 'Now this is going to be fun!'

[Gordis]

Tolvadok glared at Viniglaen. It was the first time he has seen one of the nazgul refuse a toast to the Dark Lord.

The Captain stood obviously annoyed while Viv made her speech. A heavy pause of silence ensued. Finally, he replied, in a voice dry as Mordor dust.

"Viniglaen, you hardly paid enough attention to what I have been saying. The One Ring is not "notoriously slippery", and all of us know it full well. Has your Ring ever slipped from your finger, against your will? Never. All this story is a lie, made up by Elves, only good enough to fool mortals. No Elves were seen diving at the Gladden for the Ring. They didn't even bother to search for Isildur's body! That means one thing: they already have the Ring, and do not care for the body of the one who has thwarted them once."

"Now about mortals," continued the Morgul Lord. " The one you spoke about is indeed "very important and strategically ideal". Raendil, the friend to Valandil, is invaluable as informant. Moreover, he must have easy access to Rivendell, if he so wishes. Therefore, your actions in ensnaring him are most commendable. You will get all the assistance from the other Eight that you might need".

With that, the Captain scanned the circle of attentive faces with his penetrating eyes.

[CrazySquirrel]

"And what about Valandil himself?" cried Lilly. Her backside hurt royally, but she was not one to remain silent. "He proved most amenable to my charms. I can easily get acquainted with him through Marty, the other King's friend. I am sure, I can ensnare him easily." She adjusted her tattered pink gown in most ladylike fashion.

The Morgul Lord frowned at another interruption. "Lilaenwen, I formally warn you. Your actions were most deplorable lately, putting our Quest in jeopardy. From now on, you should receive my special permission before carrying out any of your stupid schemes."

Lilly opened her mouth to protest, but a curt gesture from the Captain stopped her.

"Don't interrupt me! The King will not marry you. He will never even consider doing it. You are most fair and attractive, I give you that, but you are half-Easterling, Lilly, and you are a commoner. This match is simply impossible, as it goes against all laws and customs of the Royal family. Believe me, I know what I am speaking about." A wintry smile appeared on the Captain's lips.

"The best you could do, Lilaenwen, is to continue your "friendship" with the other King's friend you just mentioned. This Martalion is as valuable to us as Raendil. If both of them are secured, the King will be caught in our nets.

"And what about the King?" squealed Lilly, nonplussed. "Are you leaving him for Gordie? So, she is good enough to become the Queen, and I am not? Why do you always choose her over us? Is it because...?" At this moment Lilly felt her tongue frozen in her mouth and stopped perforce. Aiwendis turned red, the Morgul Lord glared at Lilly, and Lilly glared back, now mute.

"I am afraid, Lilaenwen, that I made a mistake interrupting your well-deserved punishment," hissed the Morgul Lord. Khamul's eyes lit up at that observation. He got up and approached Lilly, grinning cruelly. Lilly was instantly subdued and lowered her head abjectly.

[Gordis]

Seeing Lilly's submission, the Morgul Lord waved Khamul away. He approached the window and stared at the thick drawn curtains for some time.

"No more talk today. The dawn is approaching,, we must be off.
Lords Tolvadok and Udukhaturz, follow me to the University. Come, Aiwendis."

Turning to Khamul, the Morgul Lord continued "Lord Khamul, you remain the head of the Orrodel group. Lilaenwen, Buzukkumarz and Viniglaen are your responsibility. Keep them in line, but refrain from unnecessary cruelty. All the problems should be reported to me immediately. I wish you all good night."

Khamul and the others bowed, and the Morgul Lord nodded in acknowledgement. The four nazgul slowly disappeared from the World of Light.

Invisible, they descended the stairs and went out through the back door this time, led by Udu. In ten minutes they reached the University, entering by the East gate. The ghosts and fairies left the pre-dawn garden, leaving only swirling mist in their wake. Aiwendis bowed silently and went to her apartment, while the Morgul Lord lead the way to the Professor's rooms, Tolvadok and Udu following. Entering an empty apartment, next door to Udu, the trio became visible again.

"My Lord Tolvadok, said the Captain. We have no more vacancies for Professors, unless you wish to teach Swamp Ecology. But you may be a visiting scholar born in the North and with a degree from the Pelargir University. You came here to read rare manuscripts in the library. Please, think of a suitable name to use in Tharbad. Now I must be off. See you in the morning."

[Telcontar_Dunedain]

----

[Udukhaturz]

Tharbad University
Visiting Professors’ Apartments
Near dawn after the night of the reception

After returning to the university, Udu had bade the Morgul Lord and Tolvadok goodnight and went into his apartment. He stood quietly a moment listening and then muttered a warding spell of protection about his apartment. He smiled as a pale blue mist slowly encircled the room and then faded. “Peace at last,� he thought.

He took off his sword, sheath and belt, wrapped the sheath and sword and the belt and put them on top of the table near his bed. He unsheathed a dagger from his belt and placed it beside the other objects. He flexed his muscles up and down his back and arms. He had been uncomfortable trapped in that spell of chains which had been put on him by Khamûl. He walked over to the wine cabinet, bent down and smiled at the ample contents. After taking a bottle from the cabinet, he retrieved his empty goblet, sat down and refilled it.

He was glad to be away from Orrodel and did not look forward ever to going back. He laughed when he thought of the look on Khamûl's face when he had attempted to cut his throat. "Surprised," Udu mused. "He had that coming to him for a long time."

Udu took off his boots and put them beside the chair. He sat, sipping his wine and stretching his feet. After drinking almost a whole bottle, he walked over to his bed, took off his clothes, tossed them to a chair and climbed into the bed, pulling the covers over himself. He dared anyone to disturb him before he was ready to get up for the day.

The wine cabinet was full. He would not go out until the afternoon. Perhaps he would explore the city. His two favorite wives back in the East would be pleased if he brought back a momento of his trip in the west. He would seek a jewelery maker and see if he could find something that would please them. Udu smiled at the knowledge that he would not be disturbed, and thought about the jewelry he might purchase for them. Now if he could, he would sleep; he could not remember the last time that had been.

[Rían]

On the way to Orrodel Mansion from the park
dawn, Monday


As they started to head towards Orrodel, RÃ*an, who was very close to her big brother, just couldn't stop herself from gazing at him again. The light was growing, and she smiled as her eyes ran across the well-loved features.

The light grew a bit brighter, and she made an exclamation of disgust and impatience.

"Men!" she said and rolled her eyes, picking up one of his plaits and holding it up in the air like it was a dead rat. "When's the last time you braided your hair, the middle of the Second Age?"

Tyaron suddenly realized there were advantages to having no surviving female relatives, and turned his face slightly aside to hide a snicker, for he knew what was coming.

Eärniel prepared to enjoy the upcoming sibling battle. Knowing her friend's enjoyment of all things hair, as well as her stubbornness, she was confident that RÃ*an would eventually win. She would see what type of fighter Alagos was, what tactics he would choose, and how soon he would cave in to the inevitable.

The elves, having a lot of time on their hands, tended to be somewhat obsessive about things artistic, and in Gondolin, one way this manifested itself was in hair braiding. Pengoloð, the sage of Gondolin, describes in his histories how the elves, both male and female, had beautiful hair, and notes that Fingon, one of the great High Kings of the Noldor, "wore his long dark hair in great plaits braided with gold."

If it were left up to the men, the plaiting would be mostly, if not entirely, for practical reasons (having a weapon in one hand and a shield in another left no hands for brushing hair out of your eyes), but the women didn't leave it up to the men, the result being that men's braids ranged from simple but neat(normal days) to amazingly intricate and signifying all sorts of things, such as battle skill rankings, battles participated in and types of weapons one was qualified at, to families, interests, and hobbies. There was even a small "underground" set of styles that were the elvish equivalent of "wanted - single elvish female, must like stars and moonlight walks on the wall of Gondolin" that were surreptitiously added AFTER the mothers had finished their sons' hair, and that changed periodically when enough mothers discovered them.

On the morning of a High Feast day, one could walk about the city, especially among the houses of the higher-up families, and hear numerous masculine moans of "Oh, MOTH-er, hurry up, please!!", and occasionally see a comb go flying out of an upper-story window. However much the men groaned at this custom, though, they DID tolerate it, because they loved their womenfolk and realized that this was a way they showed their love to their men (and there weren't THAT many High Feasts that called for all-out hair braiding). And secretly, it WAS rather fun for them to roll their eyes and complain to a buddy, "Sheesh! Now that I qualified for the third-level swordsman class, it took my mother 20 more minutes to braid my hair!" (It also gave the mothers a chance to say things like, "Well, with BOTH of my sons qualifying at archer second class, I"ll have to start extra early with the braiding this year! How did YOUR sons do?")

Alagos decided to hit hard and hit fast. "My hair is just FINE, sister - I'm still alive, after all, even after all these years! It's off my face and easy to keep up, and I like it that way!" He glared down at her, but RÃ*an was not so easily intimidated when it came to the hair of the people she loved.

"Well, YOU might like it that way, but YOU don't have to look at it!" she shot back. "You look like something the hounds dragged in! And as far as easy - I'll do it FOR you, your poor little thing, so you won't have to trouble yourself!" She dropped the plait like hot lembas and rolled her eyes again.

Alagos decided to change tactics and try distraction, in the vain hope his sister might forget. "Well, maybe, but you need to take care of things at Orrodel right now, and then we need to go get something to eat." That was a mistake, and RÃ*an pounced.

"You want to go into town looking like THAT?!" she cried out in amazement. "Alagos, you look so nice when I do your hair - please let me do it, at least just a simple set of braids off your face, before we go into town!" She looked up at her brother with pleading eyes, but Alagos set his jaw stubbornly.

They were almost at Orrodel, and Eärniel decided to step in. "RÃ*an, why don't you just run in and arrange things at Orrodel while we wait, and then we really DO need to get moving - we have to get to class, don't you remember? Save the braiding for a time when you can do it right, or we'll be late for our first day of classes! You'll just get frustrated if you have to stop half-way."

RÃ*an sighed - what Eärniel said made sense. "I guess you're right, Eärniel," she said in resignation. She slipped her little hand into Alagos' big, strong one and said, giving it a gentle squeeze, "But please can I do it tonight? Not all the details, but just our family pattern? It just" - she paused and looked down, for it was an emotional subject, and then lifted her lovely eyes back up to him and continued with just a little quaver in her voice - "helps me remember our home."

Alagos's doom was sealed.

"All right, little sister, but just the family pattern!" he said, then turned to glare at the grinning face of Tyaron. "You might as well give me your blades, Tyaron," he added (most men sat down to a braiding session with a whetstone and their collection of blades).

"Thanks, but I might need them today," answered Tyaron. He turned to RÃ*an. "May I borrow Hwesta while you're at the University?"

"Certainly, whenever you want to!" she replied, curious to where he might be going. "She's at the blacksmith's; I'll send a note over to let them know to expect you."

As they came up to Orrodel, a cat ran frantically across their path, possibly in search of a mouse.

[Lady Marion Magdalena]

The watered down sunlight streaming across her desk alerted Mahtaliel to the time. Inwardly cursing she glanced at the clock, six hours after midnight, time to begin the day and she had yet to finish her last...

There was naught else for it, the paperwork would have to wait. If she hurried she would only just have time to attend to things. She needed to deliver the new supplies to Fionne and Ignatius.

Two of the first students she had taught in Tharbad. Tired of the lack of education available to the working class citizens, Fionne and Ignatius had started the first public school in Tharbad. It had survived for nearly a decade now and was open to anyone willing to learn. Fionne and Ignatius charged no tuition, which made getting supplies and space difficult. Mahtaliel always made sure to provide help to them in this quarter.

This was the real reason she had asked the Chancellor to increase her department's budget. His predecessor had known of Mahtaliel's aid to the public school and surrepticiously approved of it, he had always included a little extra, to ensure that she could support it without too much trouble.

Under the current Chancellor this extra had gone to the more warlike departments. After two years of trying to cover the difference out of her salary, Mahtaliel had resorted to drastic measures to demand and plead for what had formerly been freely given.

She had gotten what she needed, this year the school would have no trouble.

But first she had to deliver the supplies.

Hurriedly she stood and ran upstairs, grabbing the bags full of teaching materials which she had carefully packed the previous afternoon she rushed back down and out the door. If she was quick she would be able to make it down to the lower part of town and back again before half past eight, which was when she expected someone from the Watch to be by to pick up their repaired armor. Then the meeting with Lady Rian at around nine-
Thank the Valar her first class wasn't till ten...

[CrazySquirrel]

Orrodel, predawn hour of Monday, next day after the Reception

The cold hour before dawn was passing. The house at Orrodel stood silent. Melwen slept soundly in her bed, exhausted and half-drugged bt Zimra's soothing cordial. There was a faint stir in the leaves, and a cock crowed far away. Suddenly the maid sat bolt upright, clutching the bedcovers to her. Someone called her. She was asleep, but the words she heard still resonated in her brain. "Melwen, my darling, come down please, I want to explain..."
Arastud! Who else could that be? Melwen's face felt hot with embarrassment, when she remembered the events of the night. How COULD she? He was so nice to come, she would have never dared to face him again otherwise.


Fumbling frantically in darkness, Melwen dressed and combed her hair. There was no mirror, but she was used to do without. Carrying her shoes in her hand, she passed by Zimra's door, descended the stairs and went out into the court. She peered around in a faint pre-dawn light but saw nobody. Suddenly she felt cold and very frightened. She was turning to run back into the safety of the house, when strong hands caught her arms in a vice-like grip. Melwen tried to scream, but no sound came. . She felt her tongue cleave to her mouth, and her heart labouring. Unseen arms were quickly propelling her forward, out of the yard, through the empty corridor, into the back street and on and on.

All her body was numb with terror, only her legs moved automatically. She couldn't even turn her head to look at her silent attackers She felt there were two man, one walking on either side of her, gripping her arms. She could even tell that the one on the right was taller than the one on the left. Squinting her eyes she looked left and right, but saw nothing. There was nobody there, she could see the street and houses along it, but she couldn't see men that were pulling her along like an inanimate object.
Her terror intensified, her heart almost bursting.

Melwen was native of Tharbad, so even in her terror, she recognized the familiar landmarks. They were walking through narrow streets, the high Wall of the University on their left. Soon they were on Menetar, the main Tharbad Street. Flanked by her unseen kidnappers, Melwen was half-stumbling - half-running towards the Bridge. The passers-by were still few in this early hour. A drunken sailor noticed a comely maid and shouted a bawdy jibe at her, but she was running so fast, that he soon abandoned his idea to chase after her.

Soon they passed the Red Herring and came to the Bridge. At this moment she heard, or thought she heard a faint whisper, coming from one of her unseen attackers.

"Now, Buzukkumarz, you continue alone. I shall keep watch here."
The other sneered "Afraid of the water, are you?"

Melwen felt that one of the transparent men shifted behind her, and was now holding her by her elbows. But the grip on her arms was still crushing, and her body and tongue were as paralysed as before. Melwen's progress, however, slowed considerably.

A guard was standing near the door of his guard-post at the entrance of the bridge, scanning the passer-byes. He noticed a girl, walking unsteadily towards the bridge. He thought lazily of questioning her, but many a girl wandered over the bridge at night to meet with Gondoreans on the other bank. That one was too late, though, and clearly drunk or ill. The guard made a step forward, when suddenly a loud howl from behind made him jump and turn. His old dog was howling, as it there were a dead body around. As he watched, the dog ran into the house, his tail behind his legs. Puzzled, the guard was going to follow the dog in, to see what was wrong. When he cast the last glance at the bridge, the girl was almost halfway to the other bank. The Gondorean guards, much more vigilant, were barring the way at the other end, clearly determined to question her.

But the girl didn't reach the other bank. She was standing on the parapet now, swaying precariously. The guards from both ends of the bridge rushed forward, but it was too late. As if in slow motion, the girl swung forward, stiff like a log, and went down into the swift deep waters of the Gwathlo.

"It can't be happening", thought Melwen, right before her scull crushed and her brain spilled onto the protruding bridge abutment.

[Telcontar_Dunedain]

Travelling to Orrodel
Shortly after dawn. (Before Rian returns to Orrodel)

"It is done," said Buzukkumarz, returning to the unseen Khamul on the near side of the bridge.
"Good, you have done well this time Buzukkumarz," replied Khamul. "Now we must return. I fear we have an unwanted elf returning to our house."
Quickly and silently they returned, hoping not to pass to near to anyone who had the power and ability to sense them there. They returned they same way they had came, the scenice route, deciding it not wise to pass by next to where King Valandil and his advisor's lived. There were those in there that could have sensed the two Nazgul pass by, no matter how silent they were. After going round the back of the University and passed a row of expensive houses, they arrived at Orrodel and entered through the back of the house.
Khamul went straight to his room and clothed himself. He could sense something. Four elves. Two of them he recognised, but the other two were new, possibly dangerous. Having to think on his feet Khamul left his room and headed for Lily's boudoir, where Buz had headed the minute they had arrived back.
"Come you two. You will need to see this," he said natter of factly, without even knocking.
By the time Lily and Buz arrived downstairs Khamul was near the door and Rian was approaching, with the other three waiting at the end of the lane. Lily flinched slightly at the sign of more elves, obviously wondering whether or not they would be a threat to their mission and would be able to blow their cover.
"Rian. Who do you bring to my house, with out my permission."
"I bring no one to your house, Professor Galaddanun. I am walking on a public street with my friends," said Rian, with a slight sound of contempt in her voice.
"Now Rian I ask you again. Who are these people are that you bring so close to my property," said Khamul.
"I was not away that it was your business Professer Galadannun," replied Rian.
"It is my business when my house keeper is late for work and turns up witha party of elves at her heel," he replied curtly, despartly trying to find out whether the two he had not yet met were of the Blessed Realm and would see through their disuises.. "Now I repeat who are they."
"Lady Earniel who I believe you have met. One of the other is a friend of old from Gondolin and the other is my brother," called Rian, obviously annoyed with her employer, but seeing no reason to not answer.
"Are they of noble lineage? Should I preparemy house for honoured guest," called back Khamul, trying to find out whether or they were present in both worlds.
"We are all of the noble houses of Gondolin," replied Rian.
Still unsure Khamul chanced a quick look outside at the elves. Nothing. No shining bright lights. Khamul breathed a sigh of relief. They were safe, for now.

[Butterbeer]

"you don't say?"

said constable BB, still half awake and not best happy at being called from his warm bed and frisky young wife this morn: he had had a veritable sackful the night before and with Elmir Phudd away hunting and the Guv not in the watch tower just now had planned a long lie-in this very morn.

" i do! and i mean what i says what's more" replied the Guard, young Aratwit

Constable BB, looked at Aratwit (called by most just 'twit' or 'Big twit' since he was so fat!) rubbing his eyes and trying for a third time to focus properly ...

... now what was this nonsense all about really?

He was thinking of a warm hearth (not for the first or last time i am sure), some freshly baked bread and butter, with a warm drink ... when he noticed the uber-efficient (and to his mind rather pompous) southern Gondorian Guards marching from over their side of the bridge in step coming this way:

rubbing his eyes again he lazily noticed them kicking their legs out high up as was their wont ... arms rigidy swinging by their side ... their black uniforms and odd southern insiginia at odds somehow with their short shocks of blond hair ...now that was unusual thought the Constable ... what was it about those who joined this particular group stationed here?


choosing, (in the best traditions of the watch) to ignore them , he looked at Aratwit

"well, lad, we'll talk in a bit when we have some privacy ..." he casually nodded over at the approaching Gondorian guards

"how you geting on with those idiots anyway?"

"Well Barliman ..." (for that is what collegues called the Constable - his friends called him "Bingo" - but that's a whole other story ... )

"well ... not well, to be plain ... we are meaning to complain to captain Shah about them to be to the point! .. marching up and down all night, clinking and clanging around and barking orders ... at Night markyou!" said young Twit with an expression that clearly said "outreagous" ...

" how we supposed to sleep with all that nonsense going on, eh?" said Arartwit palintively...

" Ah!" said Constable BB, nodding ... he cast a surreptisous glance at the approaching Southern troopers ...

"Still call them the Clangers then?" said Barliman with a smile ...

"Hah!" laughed aratwit, smiling back ... "we did ... till the other night ... last wednesday t'was ..you know the night a storm blew up the greyflood? ... a mighty blast and bother that night was ... kept blowing out the fire and such unearthly howlings on the wind ... me and Dozy here ..." he looked down at his dog, old "dozy" who was looking up at Constable BB with "feed me eyes"

Barliman, gave him a pat and digging deep into his legendary deep and well stocked pockets pulled out a treat for Dozy ... he never did forget! ... course he forgot loads of things all the time ..but he had a fondness for animals, and old dozy in particular ...

Dozy barked a happy thanks and wagging his tail settled down at Barliman's feet ...

"me and Dozy here ... daren't look outside the postern - reet scary twas "

Arartwit paused ... "then long shanks came in to take over ... and he was a laughing so hard! they they were still out there marching up and down in the storm, helmets a blowin' off and cloaks skedaddling around like children's kites!"

"Now we call em' the 'storm-troopers!"

they both laughed: the constable with his deep booming rumble of a laugh and Twit with his high pitched nervous giggle ...

their revelry was rudely interupted by the captain of the storm troopers impatiently blowing his whistle ... they were standing exactly half way across the bridge, three of them upright and in rigid formation looking annoyed and awaiting permission to cross into the tharbad city half of the bridge ...

Constable BB, winked at Aratwit ...

"Got a brew on lad?"

[Butterbeer]

Boomerang flew over the river darting down as he saw the hated Gondorian guards on the bridge hooting eerily away on their whistles - the high pitched din annoyed him ... bloody clangers he thought ... till he remembered that the bridge owl, HiggleHoot, had told him our lads now called them the storm-troopers .... it seemed appropriate somehow ....


Boom was off to get some sleep - it had been a hectic night, the reception had been fascinating ... much to think over ... and reports of movements in the city over the night combined with his meeting of the Mountain guild's representatives and the news of the attempt on his life - that had caused such a short lived stir - had made him decide to cocoon up somewhere quiet for a few hours .... the quietest, warmest and nicest place would probably be the watch's front desk ... later he would seek out the arch-chancellor: the eighth had arrived ... and strange events had been observed from the skies ...

flying off, a sudden smile became a chuckle as he noticed the constable: "Bingo" his back turned to the storm troopers and obviuosly in no hurry to go anywhere just yet ....

.....................................

Ah, what a merry old fellow the arch-chancellor was, thought Sir bumbledore, thinking how kind it had been to give him a raise ... he hicupped unsteadily as he waited by the doors for the University rowing team, to come and carry him to his quarters: they would be quite drunk as usual he pondered ... still, each year he would sponsor them generously, he wondered casually if any of the new lads enroling up for commerce this year would be rowers?

Now.. he thought... i must chase up Jas tommorow ... and maybe that new fellow ... the one so impressively matching him and jas goblet for goblet .... what was his name?

... must find out what that wine was!

what had Jas said? .... something about a giant turtle? or was it over sea under sea? knowing jas and his red herrings ... probably both! Turtle indeed!

Well, time for bed, time and commerce waited for no man ... though his students often did!

Still his first class wasn't till Tuesday ... what had the arch-chancellor said? a big class this year? many young men were interested in commerce of course .... he wondered what his new intake would be like?

A bunch of thain's sons most likely ...

hiccuping he heard the raucous sounds of bawdy rowing songs approaching and smiled ... i do hope they don't toss me up again! .. i know it's traditional ...but as he got older he liked this particular tradition less and less ... oh well, he knew the university motto: ....

[Lotesse]

7 AM, Monday morning, Orrodel House

Viv had been able to get in an hour or so beauty-nap, after the Evil Conference and before her scheduled race with Raendil and Martalion. She had a sweet bubble-filled bath to wake up, and the servant-girl Zimra had been thoughtful enough to anticipate Viv's need for coffee - coffee and hot-baked crumpets had been brought to Viv's boudoir.

[Udukhaturz]

Tharbad University
Visiting Professors’ Apartments
10 o’clock in the morning - 12:15

Udu had been lightly dosing since he had returned to his room near dawn. Feeling an urgent need for a goblet of wine, he rose from his bed, dressed, poured a goblet of wine, walked over to his chair and tossed the wine down in a few swallows. He had no classes that day, for he had requested to be excused, feeling he needed to learn his way about the city. He arose from his chair, strapped on his belt and sword, took the key down from its hook, intoned a few words of warding about his room, then went out and locked the door.

He was not eager to talk to anyone, and so he quickly left the visiting professors’ area, walked past the university, and through the east gate. Then, circling around, he pulled his hood over his head before he passed by the Orrodel Mansion. He certainly wanted nothing to do with them, especially Khamûl, whom, he knew, would still be angry and possibly yearning for revenge. Yesterday, the day that he arrived in Tharbad, he had passed by a large house on the corner near the livery stables that interested him very much.

He strolled to the house and saw a discreet sign nailed up to a stake in the yard. The neatly lettered sign read, “For Sale. If interested, see SÃ*dhon and Son, Agents, Rath Roch.â€�

“Not too far,â€� he thought, and soon he was in the business establishment of SÃ*dhon and Son. There, he heard a sad tale about the wealthy couple who owned the structure. The mother and father had one son, a wastrel who had gambled away his substance and shamed the family. The knave had pledged to his aging parents that he would reform. The parents, however, fearing that the son would soon lapse into his old gambling ways, thought it best to leave the city and move elsewhere, thereby denying their son the rough louts who had been his companions. Udukhatûrz was pleased to find that all the servants had been dismissed. Old SÃ*dhon assured him that there were plenty of servants who could be hired in the city, and wrote down a list of names where he might check if he was interested in hiring anyone.

Even though old SÃ*dhon and his clerks had raised their eyebrows that Master Maethor would buy a house without ever looking inside it, still the man had been eager to buy the house. Soon Udu had the deed tucked into an inside pocket of his cloak, and a great key ring with at least thirty keys attached to a loop on his belt.

He strolled back to the house, opened the door and looked in, and was pleased to see that all the furniture that the elderly company had left behind had been covered with sheets to protect them from the dust. He walked all through the downstairs of the house, then walked up the large staircase to the upstairs. He had been told that several beds had been left behind by the family and that they were of good quality, some even having blankets and sheets stored in the linen closet. Udu found that it all had been as he had been told and remarked to himself, “Honest folk.�

After leaving the property, he walked to the livery stable and talked to the head ostler about the care of his mare. The ostler assured him that the mare had received proper food and exercise and would be in the prime of health whenever he wanted to ride. In all, his business lasted two hours, and it was now nearing time for the midday meal.

He sauntered over to Menetar Avenue and thought perhaps somewhere along that avenue, he might find a tavern. He had discovered that he had a terrible thirst that only ample amounts of wine could satisfy.

As he neared the Governor’s mansion, he began to walk faster, and pulled his hood down lower over his forehead. The two people Udu did not want to meet were the daughters of the governor, Miriel and Malaphel. He was relieved when he passed the governor’s mansion and he kept on walking. Surely there would be a tavern somewhere here.

Then he saw to his left what was obviously a drinking establishment. He looked at the sign. “Red Herring.� He would need to go back to the university to tell the Chancellor that he was moving and that he would pick up his property in his apartment. He could smell the water nearby and felt a vague discomfort, but nothing a bottle of wine would not cure. He heard a clock chime somwhere, a quarter past noon.

[Gordis]

Orrodel, Monday 7-9 AM

After serving breakfast to Lady Viniglaen, who has risen uncommonly early for a lady, Zimra went down to clean the kitchen. She decided to let Melwen sleep, she needed it after her fit last night.

The kitchen was a mess. Zimra frowned at the unwashed dishes and at the three empty bottles of kitchen wine.

Who had drunk them? No way the masters would drink kitchen wine, especially right there in the kitchen, for that matter.
Melwen surely couldn’t consume them all alone, poor fool. She must have been feasting with the stable boys, Arastud and his brother, what was his name again?

Having cleaned the kitchen and prepared more scones for Lady Lilly and her two brothers, Zimra went through the courtyard to the servant’s rooms to check on Melwen. But the room was empty, the bed unmade. Melwen must have dressed and gone. Zimra checked the servant’s quarters. There was nobody around. The housekeeper, Rian the Elf, was also missing.

Worried now, Zimra ran to the stables.
Arastud and his brother were grooming the horses. Zimra rushed to them.

"Where is Melwen?" she cried without greeting. "What have you done with her, you drunken rascals?"b

[Lotesse]

After finishing her bath, and donning a baby-blue soft summer-woolen riding outfit complete with black patent riding boots, black kidskin gloves, and tanzanite, topaz and mithril barrettes to hold back her long, wavy bangs, Viv went down to the stables to get Laslech ready for the race. She was brushing Laslech and picking her hooves, in Laslech's stall down toward the other end of the long stable-house, when she heard the servant-girl Zimra burst in and frantically exclaim to the stableboy, "Where is Merwen?"

'uh-oh,' thought Viv to herself, 'I sure hope the guys took care of her right. Last thing we need is a murder scandal.' Viv stopped brushing and rubbing and picking Laslech for a second, and remained still, so she could listen to what the help was saying about Merwen's disappearance.

[Butterbeer]

down at the bridge, Constable BB was wondering what time it was...

this insistent whistling by the gondorian idiots was starting to jarr on barliman's nerves till he realised most of it was Big twit's kettle...

waving a hand and signalling he was getting a drink to Captain Git-tenstein or whatever his outlandish southern name was ... he was glad when Aratwit and dozy came out of the postern and brought a steaming mug of khandian coffee and a jaunty wagging tail ...

"ahh, thankee indeed Aratwit ... well, best go and see what miladdo wants ..."

"do me a favour, lad, when you've drunk your mug there, run up to professor Mathaliel's and pick up the armour for the guv, will ee'? ... i'll chat to you in a bit about these sad goings on this morning"

Deciding not to bother walking over to the bridge centre he waved the gondorians over ... better this way he thought, they'll be in our duristication ...

cupping his hands around the steaming mug, he took a hearty sip, ahh! that's better he thought ... it was chilly still with a biting wind this morn ... there was still a bit of haze here down by the river ...

aratwit downed his mug and ambled, or waddled may have been a better description off to the university.

the three 'storm troopers' marched rigidly forward, legs kicking out and arms like pendulums ...

with a smart salute they stopped.

"well met Constable! " said the captain, somewhat stiffly in an odd guttural accent, he was still frowning ... he was a tall fellow, short cropped blond hair and blue eyes ... unusual indeed for a man of gondor thought barliman...

"wotcha!" he replied taking another hearty swig of coffee.

The Gondorian captain paused obviously expecting a salute ....

Barliman just eyed him astutely ...

"yes? well, my time is precious captain even if yours is not ..."

(he was thinking of a spot of breakfast at he Singing swan)

Looking as sour as a rotten lemon, the captain, scaresely civil spoke up:

"Constable, two of my guards have reported a fatality on the bridge this morning - a young girl, drunk by the looks of her has stumbled and fallen over into the river - My troops - "

he stopped abruptly as barliman almost coughed up his coffee, trying to hide his amusement ...

"My troops have fished her out downstream - she is dead! Do you require me to submit a full written report in triplicate?"

"have you owt else to add, lad?" enquired barliman, not liking the sound of triplicate or written report.

The captain froze ... bridling, he sharply cut off a an angry reply ...

"Only that they report she stank of wine!"

"Ahh!" muttered Constable BB ... " tis a most sad event - a broken heart maybe?"

distracted for a momment barliman was polite to the man ...

"well captain, i thank'ee for your report, i shan't need it in writing .. indeed it is most sad ... was she on er' own? Did she jump or stumble or what? What did your lads see?"

"from the reports i have constable she staggered across the bridge erratically, stumbled even as they rushed to her, and fell."

"indeed? well sounds like an open and shut case - most sad! I'll ave' dwimmerbusy the undertaker be reet over to attend her body - reet' well i'm a busy man ... "

[Lady Marion Magdalena]

Mahtaliel had completed her delivery and made it back to the university in good time. This was fortunate as the Watch had sent one of their guardsmen earlier than she had expected. Unlocking the door to the forge she waited for the approaching guardsman to arrive before going in. It was one of the younger guards, chubby and lackadaisical looking. She would have to have a word with the Captain about that. Just because it was a time of peace was no excuse for laziness.

"Morning Professor!" he greeted her cheerfully, "Barliman sent me up for the armor."

"Right on time," She said, shooing the boy inside and following, letting the door swing shut behind her, "One moment, it's right over here... Tell me, what's the news this morning?"

Lifting the bundle carefully she carried over to the table. Best to check on last time before sending it back, and best to see if the boy would be able to carry it all...

"Bit of a do down at the bridge," he replied, "Those gondorians came over, didn't stay long enough to hear what they had to say."

"Don't they usually stick to their side of the bridge?" Mahtaliel asked, curious. Satisfied that all was in order, she repacked the armor and tied the resulting bundle tightly before handing it to the boy.

"Not so often as we'd like." He replied, taking the bundle, grunting slightly at the weight.

"Here," Mahtaliel opened the door at held it for him, "Good luck with those Gondorians, and tell Barliman and the Captain that they're to let me know if they need anything else done."

She followed him outside and watched as he made his way back to the south gate. Satisfied that he would make it back without dropping his load she glanced inside and checked the time. Nearly an hour before she was due to meet with Rian. Plenty of time for a walk around the the outside of the campus. Strolling out of the north gate she turned turned right, preferring to circle the campus clockwise.

[Rían]

In front of Orrodel Mansion
Monday at dawn

Khamul stepped outside. He was sick and tired of this elf, and did not want her in his house one moment more. And she might be dangerous to have around, too. What had Lilly been thinking when she hired her? But he would have to be careful. Lilly and Penny joined him, interested to see how the Lieutenant would handle things.

RÃ*an stepped away from Khamul just slightly as her friends joined her. She wasn't afraid, but she just didn't like to be close to this man whom she found so repugnant, both in the kitchen and at the Reception. She had made up her mind to quit, especially since the arrival of her brother and friend, but her sense of fairness and duty compelled her to not leave without proper notice and turning over of the house to some other manager.

The "late to work" comment irked her, though, for she had worked diligently and well, and she decided to address it. "I was NOT told that I had to be around Orrodel at any particular hour," she said with formal but cool politeness. "My job is to run the household, and run it well, and I have done that; which is especially commendable given the state of the house when I first arrived here. And AFTER I was hired by your sister on those terms, you gave me some additional terms, which I have met, also - there are now 2 maids and 2 stableboys here, and I am expecting 3 more potential maids here this afternoon for a further interview. You gave me three days to staff the house, Professor, and I have almost completed it in less than two."

Khamul was going to respond, but the thought of Melwen gave him so much pleasure that he stopped for a moment to contemplate it, smiling an evil smile.

A few curious on-lookers slowed down and pretended to examine the flowers across the street, but they could hear nothing clearly, and everything looked calm, so they soon moved on.

Seeing that Khamul didn't respond, RÃ*an continued quietly: "You have had your meals on time and well-cooked, and your rooms are clean," she said, "at least they were when we left them yesterday. I am here for a few moments to check up on breakfast preparations, which I settled with Zimra and Melwen last night, then I will be off to a meeting with Professor Mahtaliel. If you wish to discuss anything with me, then I will be happy to make an appointment with you. Or if my style of management displeases you, then I will be glad to leave Orrodel for other things."

Khamul was shaken out of his pleasant reverie - he had not been spoken to like this by a woman - and a stinking elf, at that! - for a long time, probably because most women who knew him well enough to speak to him haughtily also knew that he could kill them, and do it without any regrets or hesitation. His brief pleasure over the thought of Melwen evaporated. He was furious, and it showed in his eyes. His hands clenched ever so slightly, and Lilly flinched and stepped away just a bit. Alagos stepped closer to his sister with a protective look, and Tyaron quietly started evaluating their surroundings, in case it came to a fight. Buz sent an urgent thought to his superior - "Remember what the Chancellor said! Keep things quiet! We'll save this one for you, when the time is right, but not now!" Khamul, noticing the onlookers, slowly unclenched his hands, and a smile (which was far worse) appeared on his face.

Khamul took a breath, and then said quietly, in an icily polite tone, "You say you have done well, do you? Are we talking about the same Orrodel? For the one that I live in has servants going where they shouldn't at all hours of the night, and servants going missing, and wine bottles strewn around the kitchen. That is certainly not the mark of a good manager, wouldn't you agree? I heard that elves do not lie; is that true of the elves of Gondolin, too?"

Alagos's hand tensed and moved, but Tyaron, quick as lightning, stopped him, and said to him in a low but urgent voice, in an ancient dialect of Gondolin which few in Middle Earth now knew, "Brother! Do not sully your blade with the blood of this man - he is a woman-striker, a coward. Hark to the woman next to him - she flinches at his movement."

Alagos looked at Lilly, who was indeed shrinking away from Khamul's anger. He breathed hard, but stopped. Eärniel looked on, unsure what to do.

Khamul did not understand the language, but the look on Tyaron's face and the contempt in his voice was easy to read. The Morgul-Lord had commanded them to lay low, though, so they would have to not react ... for now, at least. The time would come... Khamul had to content himself with a silkily-veiled insult - he would not be the one to start anything, but if he could goad those elves far enough, it might come in handy some day. "Perhaps the elves of Gondolin have different standards of politeness than my people," he said in a smooth voice. "Among my people, it is considered the height of rudeness to speak in a language that is not known to the others present. But I suppose one must make allowances."

Tyaron said coldly, "I have indeed been rude by the standards of my people by doing this, but sometimes there are more important things than politeness. One must make allowances," he finished, copying Khamul's tone.

[Lady Marion Magdalena]

Passing by Orrodel on her walk, Mahtaliel had come up behind the group in time to hear this last exchange between Galadanunn and-

More elves? And from Gondolin by their dialect...!

She could only hope none of these newcomers would recognize her as a Feanorian. No time to wonder about that at the moment though. If Galadanunn intended to deliver insults to elves she certainly wouldn't stand by and allow him to do so unchecked.

"Indeed," she interrupted, startling all of them, "Allowances must be made, though not for certain people I could name," She glared hard at Galadanunn, "who stay up all hours of the night carousing and making much noise and then blame the resulting mess on their servants."

Turning to Alagos and Tyaron and bowed, hesitantly speaking in the dialect they had used, and which she knew a little of, having learned it from a friend in Imladris, "Welcome to Tharbad my friends, I would you had been greeted by some other than this man. He is new here, and knows little of politness."

[Rían]

Tyaron and Alagos looked at her with astonishment, then warm smiles spread across their faces, and they bowed in return. Tyaron, as the eldest present, spoke: "I thank thee, gracious lady, for thy warm welcome. It is always pleasant for wanderers to hear their heart language spoken by another." In a more serious tone, he continued, "But unless you have something else to say for our ears only, we had better not speak our dialect any further, lest we lend truth to his lies."

[Telcontar_Dunedain]

"How I speak to my servant's is my own owen business, not your's, whether you her brother, a friend of her brother or anyone else," replied Khamûl, though very much wanting to draw his sword upon this elf, but he remembered the words of the Morgul Lord.
"Yet I have no quarell with you my good elf, but please, this matter is between myself and my house keeper."
"You say you have other things to do that are not at Orrodel. What are these. I do not believe I gave you permission to have another job, or something else that will take up time other than the supervision of this house," said Khamûl, turning to Rian.
"I was not aware that I was not allowed to have a lifeoutside of Orrodel," replied Rian sarcastically.
"Well you are now. I am relieving you of all duties here at Orrodel. Do not return to my premises or I will take severe action against you," said Khamûl.

[Rían]

RÃ*an inclined her head slightly. "I think that is the best solution for all concerned," she said quietly in a cool, polite voice, altho she was seething inside at his twisted words.

"Because I am a good manager and a fair person," RÃ*an continued, "I will make you this offer: if you like, I will spend a few hours here later this morning to prepare Zimra to take over for me - telling her the meal plans for the day, and preparing her to interview the 3 ladies coming after lunch, and things like that. I am perfectly willing to do that, but it is your decision. Also, shall I pack up my things now, as I have friends with me to help carry them, or shall I come back later?"

[Gordis]

University Palace, around dawn on Monday.

After having washed and changed into an intricately embroidered nightgown, Aiwendis lay in her bed, unable to sleep. The events of the evening and night replayed in her mind again and again. What a fool she has been! First, lusting after a mortal, then caring for that crazy bunch of her fellow-nazgul. Her memory had played a trick on her. They were far worse than she remembered them.

She recalled how she ran invisible through the corridors full of servants. How she pleaded on her knees before the Morgul Lord to come to Orrodel, instead of spending a delicious night together, which he was probably inclined to do. Aiwendis bit her lip, and drove her little fist hard into the bedpost. "Fool, you have always been a fool, Aiwendis".

No one of those in Orrodel was a least bit grateful for the help she has brought to them. Udu glared at her, as if she were responsible for his plight. He had full ten minutes to warn Lilly and Buz and get away somewhere. It was his own fault that he got caught like a mouse in Khamul’s trap! And Lilly! The ungrateful readhead even tried to revile her publicly for all her pains to deliver her from Khamul’s grip. "I should have let Khamul strip all the flesh from her backside", thought Aiwendis angrily.

Never again will she care for them. Let them fall into the abyss long prepared for all of their kind!

And now this Tolvadok. She has always hated him, feared him more than she feared the hot-blooded Khamul. Cold he was and dangerous, deadly efficient and indomitable, like a poisonous snake.

Aiwendis got up and unlocked a wall cabinet, where some of her most innocent potions were stored. She selected a bottle of Vala-riana, herb of the Valar, mixed with some poppies, potion for sweet dreamless sleep and rest. She uncorked it and made a small swallow. It will help her to forget…

[Gordis]

Red Herring, Monday, around noon.

Udu was finishing his first bottle of wine, when he saw two brightly clad girls coming onto the terrace. They spotted him immediately, waved, and came to his table giggling shyly.

"Oh, Professor Maethor! exclamed Miriel

"How nice to see you again" continued Malaphel. "Have you forgotten that we promised to take you around the City? We were looking for you since early morning.."

"Yes, since ten!" interrupted Miriel. "We came to your apartment at the University, but you were not there, and old Professor Bumbldore was still sleeping!"

"But then we met the Chancellor!" cried Malaphel exuberantly. "He said he thought you could be found at the Red Herring and laughed! He is such a nice man, Lord Ilmenzor, he…"

"Yes, not at all "icy"! Why ever people call him that? We wanted to invite him along, but he said he had lectures. What a pity!"

"Now, what would you like to see? The University? But that you must have seen already. The Bridge? By the way, I heard a girl jumped from the bridge this morning, poor lost soul! Do you want to see the Governor Palace? We can invite you for a cup of Khandian Coffee…"

"I know, Malaphel," cried Miriel, happy with her idea. "We shall do all that and then go and see those Easterling dancers from yesterday. They are housed in the University, right above your own rooms, Professor!"

Malaphel eyes lit. "Yes!" she cried. "Did you like them, Professor? I thought they were cute, and danced quite well, but Mother said it was unseemly to dance undressed! She said naked woman’s flesh is not a good sight for Faithful Dunedain!"

"There are rumours in our sewing circle," whispered Miriel conspiratorially, "that in the East all women go around like that all the time".

"There is also talk that these girls dance every night for the Chancellor and all the Professors, but completely undressed this time. Is that true, Professor?" asked Malaphel, blushing from her daring.

[Telcontar_Dunedain]

"I don't think that will be necessary. I will have Lily brief Zimra in what is needed to be done, as she is now taking your place as house manager. As for your things I will have someone take them to the Red Herring at three o'clock. Now if you don't mind would please leave my property. I have things to sort out," replied Khamûl, turning his back to Rian and returning to the house.

[Udukhaturz]

Red Herring, Monday, around noon.

Udu groaned inwardly when he saw Miriel and Malaphel coming onto the terrace of the inn. It was too late to escape, though he considered it, but he was trapped! On they talked like two chattering magpies and asked questions quicker than he could answer them. Deciding it was better to let them talk until they became out of breath, he waited until they had finished before speaking.

“Ladies, how good to see you again. You both look excellent and marvelous! How could I forget that you had promised to take me about the city today!� he said, beaming pleasantly at them. Actually, he had been dreading the prospects of ever seeing them again.

“How kind of you to come looking for me at the university, but I was out and about early this morning. There was some business to which I had to attend. You saw the Chancellor, you say? He is a fine man, very distinguished. No, no, of course he would not leave his classes; he is very dedicated.�

To Malaphel’s question of “What would you like to see?� Udu answered, “It seems you have an itinerary already planned for me. How thoughtful of you two!� He thought to himself, “I cannot bear these two chattering creatures, but perhaps they might prove useful sometime. They seem to know everything and everybody.�

“Some poor wretched girl jumped from the bridge? How tragic!� he said out loud. “Certainly, I would like to see the governor’s mansion and have a cup of Khandian coffee. I am sure the building is quite sumptuous.�

“Eastern dancers! Now that is an attractive idea!� he thought. “Yes, I remember the dancers,� he told them. “How marvelous to have such talented performers visiting in the city! Certainly I would like to see them.�

Malaphel was going on now about her mother’s opinion of Eastern dances. “My dear,� Udu said, “you must understand that there are differences in culture. Perhaps we of the Faithful Dunedain are too stodgy and set in our ways, and need to become more adaptable in our thinking,� he said and smiled pleasantly.

Miriel was talking about the scandalous behavior of the women of the East. “I assure you that those tales are exaggerations! Sometimes they do dance while clothed.� He wondered if he had said something wrong, but neither girl seemed embarrassed, except Malaphel, who had a slight blush upon her face.

“You say they dance undressed every night! Dear Malaphel, I think the ladies in your sewing circle have imaginations that are far too active.� He took her hand and patted it. “I spent part of the evening yesterday with some of the professors, and I assure you that there were no such scandalous proceedings as that! Quite to the contrary! All of us spent the evening engaged in intellectual pursuits and discussing philosophy. One must not believe everything one hears,� he said, smiling, amused at his own private jokes.

“Why did the others not tell me about the dancing girls every night,� he thought. “They are holding out on me!�

Looking at the two of them and beaming, Udu said, "This inn must have many tales which it could tell. I would like to know some of its history. Would you be so kind as to inform me of it?"

[Rían]

In front of Orrodel Mansion
Monday, early morning

"Well, that could have gone worse," Eärniel said to the elves of Gondolin, as the door to Orrodel shut in their faces.

"Why don't you three go to the Red Herring for some breakfast? Especially since Yávanna Kementári hasn't served any food today yet," she added with a mischievious smile.

"I've already eaten, so I'll meet you there later. In the mean time, I think I just might be able to get you three some proper lodgings, not the kind where the patron shuts the door in your face."

"That would indeed be great, Eärniel. See you later," RÃ*an said.

Eärniel took leave with a short nod and turned around, walking quickly back to her own lodgings.

Turning to the professor, RÃ*an said graciously, "Professor Mahtaliel, it would be a pleasure if you would join us."

[Rían]

Orrodel stable area
Monday 9 AM

Arastud, who had his hands full with grooming a horse that was feeling its oats this morning, looked blankly at Zimra. "What? Done with who?" he asked in confusion. Then he remembered what had happened last night, and his expression changed from one of confusion to one of concern and doubt and uncertainty - what in the world was he supposed to do? He certainly didn't want to ruin the girl's character! Who knows what she did after he left her with Zimra, in the condition she was in! There weren't any other men around Orrodel; he fervently hoped she didn't slip out and go after some other guy after Zimra left her! She had always seemed a nice, quiet girl - but you never know what a person will be like when they are drinking!

Zimra saw his face change and jumped on it. "I knew it!" she cried. "It's getting so a girl isn't safe in this town! I had heard you were a gentleman, but I see that's just a lie - you're as bad as the rest of them! Now where is she? What did you do with her?"

Arastud tossed the curry comb over to his little brother and said firmly, "Finish up for me, Arabud." His younger brother clearly had other thoughts running in his head - what with the lights last night, and the noises, and now a maid missing? - inquiring minds wanted to know MORE! Arastud gave his brother the Sibling Look Of Death, and Arabud shrank meekly back and started grooming the horses assiduously. Arastud was a big guy.

"Look, Zimra, I don't know where she is, but this is a serious accusation you have made against me - I need to talk to you somewhere alone," said Arastud quietly, as he took the emotional maid by the elbow and firmly guided her to the back of the tack room.

"You just leave that door open, now, or I'll scream!" said Zimra with big eyes.

"Don't worry, Zimra - I'll stay back here, and you stay by that first saddle - you have a clear shot to the door. But there's no need to worry - I don't hurt women."

"The last time I saw her was when I handed her over to you, Zimra," said Arastud. "And you say she's gone now? Are you sure she's not just in town getting supplies or anything?"

"Don't act so innocent with me, Arastud! Her room a mess, the kitchen a mess, and her not checking with me before going into town? And you the last one seen with her, carrying her out of your room? No, you won't get out of it that easily!" she said angrily.

Arastud sighed and wrinkled his forehead - how in the world could he explain things without putting Melwen in a bad light? Zimra misunderstood his pause, and said angrily, "Don't you try to give me a story, now, I want the truth!" and then said in a quieter voice, "She's my cousin..."

Arastud said firmly, "You misunderstood my silence, Zimra - I am only pausing to think, because what I have to say will put your cousin in a bad light, unfortunately. Wait!" he added, holding up his hand as Zimra bridled up again. "Please hear me out! I swear that I will tell you the truth."

Zimra nodded curtly, and Arastud told his story, lightening up Melwen's actions as much as possible, up to the point where he had met Zimra in the hall. "After that, I went back to my room but couldn't sleep, for I thought it so strange that such a quiet girl should do that. And her eyes looked so ... so odd, Zimra! Did you notice that?"

Zimra tried to remember her cousin's eyes, but couldn't - they were blurred by her tears. "I didn't notice her eyes, except that she was crying," she said quietly.

"But this house is odd, too," he went on, "unless this is the way that these type of people normally act. My brother saw lights and heard noises far into the night last night. I don't know - I haven't been around high class people much, and maybe that's just the way they act - maybe they usually stay up all hours. But even in the short time I've been here ... I don't know, it's just ..." he shrugged his shoulders, unable to put words to his feelings. "But the pay is very good, and I'm hoping to have enough money saved up to marry on in a few months, so I'm staying on here."

"Yes," he added, as Zimra's eyebrows rose in response to this always-interesting subject, "I am betrothed to a young lady in town. Another reason why I would definitely NOT want to be involved with your cousin."

"Anyway, I thought for a bit in my room, but I was just so restless that I finally gave it up and went for a walk. I chatted with the watch for a bit, then came back shortly before dawn. And that's all that happened, Zimra, I swear it. I don't know where Melwen is now. Don't you think she might just be out running an errand or something? I'm a little concerned, too, if you are, but it's still early..."

Zimra was quiet. She didn't quite know whether to believe him or not, but he seemed sincere, and he DID have a very good reputation. Also, he was certainly attractive, and although she had never known her cousin to drink, yet she most certainly was drunk last night, and she could see how she might have gone to seek him out ... but no! Melwen wasn't like that! that she knew of, at least ... oh, there were just too many confusing things! But the one thing that she DID know was that the kitchen was a mess, and Melwen ... was gone. The rest could wait; they needed to find her. Then she remembered her cousin speaking of a young man in town ... if THAT was it, then she was in trouble, BIG time!!

She turned her eyes on him uncertainly. "I suppose you're right, it IS still early..." she said slowly. Then she remembered the mess in the kitchen. "She's gonna catch it when she gets back, though!"

[Gordis]

Chancellor's Palace, after 9AM, Monday.

Nimrael, Aiwendis’s most trusted lady-maid, opened the door of her Lady’s bedroom and entered on light feet bringing a tray with breakfast.

"Good morning, my Lady", she said brightly. "You look tired today, have you had good sleep?"

Nimrael was dark-haired and lithe, only twenty-three years of age, with heart-shaped face and rosy lips. She was from Osgiliath, hired soon after the elegant Chancellor’s house burned to ashes along with all the servants and the Fair Lady of the house. Nimrael had seen Lady Isilien several times and was fascinated by her beauty, kindness and easy dignity. Her daughter was a copy of her, but a different personality altogether, prone to depression, melancholy and quick shifts of temper.

"No wonder", thought Nimrael, "it must have been awful for Aiwendis to loose her mother even before she had time to know her, being raised away from home, as she had been, poor girl". Nimrael wondered privately, what made Lord Ilmenzor and Lady Isilien leave their daughter in the care of her mother’s southern kin for so long. Strange folk lived in the South. Nimrael heard many a whisper that the folk south of Umbar were all sorcerers and Evil worshippers, not Faithful at all. Nimrael hoped that Lady Isilien’s kin were not like that. Aiwendis seemed to be very attached to her father, though: Nimrael saw how she always followed the Chancellor with her eyes, when he was in sight.


Lately, her Lady was giving Nimrael much concern. Yes, that smell...
Her lady was drugging herself again!

Pursing her lips, Nimrael looked at Aiwendis disapprovingly. Something was wrong with her. Nimrael suspected she had a hidden sweetheart she was pining for. What was worse, on several occasions, Nimrael found her rooms empty at night. To slip out of her room at night and go out of the palace was unseemly for a young lady of quality. And mighty dangerous too. No one of the servants dared to venture outside at night. There was talk of ghosts haunting the old fortress, enticingly horrible stories told in front of the huge kitchen shimney on long winter evenings. Once Nimrael decided to search for her lady in the garden, but then she saw, or thought she saw, a ghostly shape clad in chainmail, a severed helmeted head under one arm, patrolling the wall. Nimrael rushed inside and lay all the night shaking, her head under her pillow.

Nimrael thought again what a faithful servant was supposed to do in this situation. She was alone here in Tharbad, her family far away. She knew better than to confide in other servants, she was not one to start a dirty talk about her Lady. Perhaps she should tell the Chancellor…
She shivered at the thought. He was a cold man, cold and frightening, even if always most polite to servants. No, she would better not.

"I have selected this pale blue dress for you to wear today, my lady" said Nimrael. "Do you find it suitable?"

[Lady Marion Magdalena]

"Thank you for the invitation, Lady Rian, but I should be getting back to the office, there are still some last minute adjustments to be made to the schedule of classes before everyone comes for orientation at ten." Mahtaliel couldn't quite keep the exasperation out of her tone, sometimes she really loathed the way her colleagues never seemed bothered by work...

"Then walk with us till the gate at least," said Rian, "We can start our meeting as we go and I'll rejoin you immediately after I change."

[Serenoli]

Tharbad University
Professor's Apartments
Dawn

Alone in the room that had been given him, Tolvadok surveyed his surroundings distastefully. The room was rather bare, the only furniture being a bed in one corner, a table and chair, and a basin for washing up. Most professors furnished the rooms at their own expense, and Tolvadok had already determined to do something about this. Though he was as ready as the next nazgul to rough it out, he did like comfort at home...

He took off his black cloak, and hung it on the chair, and then began the slow task of taking off his light silver-black armor, and the weapons he had hidden all over his body. Then he remembered his luggage - consisting of a single satchel filled with all the essentials for a journey, which he had left with his horse, but then he found it had been already brought up to his room, and was reclining by the bed. Really, the Morgul Lord was most thoughtful sometimes.

Rid of the armor, and clad now only in a simple brown tunic, he threw himself on the bed. The journey had been very tiresome, and his body needed rest. But, once his head touched the pillow, all sleep left him, and his mind swirled with thoughts of all he had learned that night.

The One Ring... Ash Nazg... was the Morgul Lord right, could they really find it? It would mean he could give up this tiresome existence pretending to be a human, and become what he really was... a Ringwraith in the service of Sauron. But he did not trust any of his fellow-Nazgul to return it to their Master. They tried to hide it, but he knew how they secretly loathed the Master... he knew too the lust of the ring... He remembered the first time he saw it on Sauron's hand, and his heart had been torn with desire for it. But he would not succumb like the others. He knew his duty, and he would follow it. He would return the ring to Sauron, and whoever stood in his way, be he Nazgul or human or elf... he would deal with them.

Meanwhile, the more immediate task before him was to spy on the Elves, keep his ears open, and find out everything he could that could help. Associating with elves... very nauseating thought. But there was no help for it. He wondered what name he would give for himself, and decided it would be easiest to go by his real name... the name he once had as a human. He had never told anyone what it was once he turned undead... but he still remembered... Girithron... because he had been born deep in winter. A nice little cover story had been provided already, and all he had to do was convince everyone it was true. And why should anyone doubt him?

And so after having his little think, he fell promptly asleep.
*
Four hours later

In the next apartment, Jas Fernik woke up with a jerk from an uneasy sleep. He had had horrible dreams... where a dark cloaked man kept showing up. Anyway, now he was awake, he had a huge headache. He supposed he had been drinking too much last night.

Then suddenly he remembered that it was the first day of classes. Did he have any classes? He really could not remember... he knew there was an orientation, and Mahtaliel was in charge of the schedules... but when was it? Nine? Ten? Eleven? And Mahtaliel would look at him with such contempt if he turned up late... she was really rather dedicated, but also very touchy about her colleagues, especially if they were tardy. Dressing hurriedly, he rushed out of his room, only to collide with a tall man coming out of the next room.

[Butterbeer]

earlyish morning, monday

Constable BB left the Gondorians and not seeing Aratwit back yet from the University decided to pop to the red herring nearby for a breakfast ...

.................................................. .......................................

Boom was settling down on a comfortable shelf above the quiet and warm front desk of the watch... time for a doze ... forty flights of fancy ....

.................................................. .......................................

Bumble was woken by the maid bringing in his breakfast, rolling her eyes as usual at the mess and gingerly side stepping the detruious of wine bottles, and clothes that were strewn on the professor's floor ...

carefully popping down the steaming tray, she started chatting away, garrously

" you heard the news, then professor? all sorts of rumours going about ... a poor girl been fished out of the greyflood - dead she is!"

Bumble's one good eye could just be seen peering out above his heavy blanket

"grrrumph?"

"aye, dead i say!" continued the maid, with the eye of an expert tallying up the time it would take to tidy his room later - better than normal she thought ...

....................................


barliman was just finishing his bacon and mushrooms with some gusto when he saw what he had been keeping half an eye out for .. there through the window was Dwimmerbusy and his lad, he had been quick, it hadn't taken long for the red-herrings errand boy to reach him then ... there he was coming back over the bridge with his horse and cart bringing the dead girl back to her final resting ...

sighing, he called the lad over again

"just pop out lad, will ee? go ask Mr dwimmerbusy to pop in for a momment ere he passes .."

Barliman lit his pipe and knowing Dwimmer well he left his pouch on the table for him ... he felt much better now for another hot drink and some good fare inside him ...

"evenin all!" piped up dwimmerbusy as he entered and came and sat down by the constable ..."tragic goings on ... still its an ill wind as blows no good to no man ..."

taking the pouch with a nod from barliman he too lit his pipe, and they sat there for a few minutes silently letting the wreaths of smoke eddy about making their ghostly spiralling patterns against the light of the snug's window.

"Did ee' recognise her dwimmer?" asked the constable eventually.

"Aye, mores the shame of it, Bingo: tis young Melwen, Zimra's cousin ... you remember Zimra? used to work in the bakers on Tien hael ... always had a smile for the watch as i recall ..."

"you don't say?" replied Barliman, pulling the pipe from his mouth that momentarily dropped open ...

[The last sane person]

Grey on silver. Silver in white. Ithilion cut through the thick mist that was lingering in the woods outside of Tharbad like a mithril knife. The mist muffled his hoof beats, and both stallion and rider were soundless. To the men of Captain Shah of the watch, upon the walls, naught but the faintest sound of merry, clattering tack was heard. The Captain was about to call out the change of guards, when he caught a glimpse of the ghostly rider, on the edge of the woods. He turned and stared full on into the mist, willing his aging eyes to see clearly. It was as though the ghost rider felt his gaze, and reigned in his steed, on the edge of the forest looked up, and raised his hand to Shah, before wheeling away deeper into the forest, getting lost from sight.

“Sir? Sir! Do you see anything?� A young man from the tower guard addressed him

“Huh? What?� Captain Shah tore his eyes away from the forest edge and looked at the young man.

“You were staring into the mist sir, did you see something sir?� the guard was looking towards the forest.

“No. Nothing, just times past.� A faint smile played about his eyes, and he stroked his black, grey streaked beard.

“Very well sir. The watch awaits orders to exchange shifts with the tower guards.�

“Announce the change of shifts, my men and I will be off promptly.� With that he strode from the wall and gave orders, as the bell tolled out, barking orders and throwing on his traveling cloak. “It has been one hell of a day thus far…Time to get some breakfast and see if old Elemir Phud bagged his ‘mighty’ trophy yet.�

--------------------------------------------------------------------------

Marthalion truly admired Captain Shah. He was one of the few “true� nobles, as Marty put it. A mighty warrior and champion of armies he had once been, now in his old age, he refused to rest on his laurels. Marty thought of him as an aging lion, and respected his hard working attitude, secretly wishing that he himself would take to old age with as much grace and dignity Captain Shah.

Knowing that this was his morning shift on the northern part of the wall, Marty looked for him, and found him close to one of the guard towers, his tall straight frame hard to miss. Grinning, he stopped Ithilion and raised his hand in salute to the grizzled veteran and dashed off to the starting ground. Asking Ithilion to trot as to not play down his strength, and he came to the little clearing that would serve as the starting point of the race. Marty looked around and saw no Ray. “Well, it seems we bested mister Rise ’n’ Shine himself!� Marty leaned down to pat the prancing Ithilion on the neck.

“Or not…what kept you, One Eye?� Marty started and looked about him, finding Raendil and Volricom standing still as statues in the shade of the trees around them. Only the puff of their breath distinguished them from the forest around them. Volricom’s brown and black, as well as Ray’s green and brown made them blend into their surroundings. The two men and their horses stood opposite, staring each other down. “Did you make sure to check and see if the flag spears are where they are supposed to be?� Marty queried. “Yep, came here early just to see if the trail was clear and planted the spears right where we agreed them to be. But if you want to check for yourself, be my guest.�

Though he didn't show it, Raendil had been startled at Marty's sudden appearnce out of the misty background. For he and his horse were nigh invisible, Ithilion being a silvery white and Marty being clad in dark and light grey and sliver.

Volricom flattened his ears and bared his teeth at Ithilion, dancing underneath Ray as Ithilion returned the favor. “Nah, that’s alright, if there is one thing about you that is both admirable and frustrating at the same time, it’s your unwavering ability to tell the truth. Regardless of how inconvenient a time it will make for you. Let me guess, you learned that from the elves too?�

“Well, in part, mostly from my father, actually. If there is one thing he values most, it’s honesty. What time is it?�

“About quarter past seven. Why are we waiting? Oh, that’s right, Viv was supposed to show up.� Marty chuckled, and grinned wickedly at his friend. Sheesh, just how attached is he to this lass? Heh, methinks I hear wedding bells in the not too distant future…. “Think she will show? She is borderline late…�

“Gah! I know Viv; she’ll come all right. This is just her cup of tea. I just hope she remembered the directions is all. This place isn’t exactly easily accessible to those who don’t know Tharbad. Er…I hope she isn’t lost…� Ray reached up to scratch his head, deciding whether or not to go looking for her. But his thoughts were ungrounded, for it was shortly after he said that, they heard the steady clip clop of hooves coming their way. Ray grinned over to Marty in an I-told-you-so way.

Hmm...I knew she'd show. The track is in excellent condition, exactly the way it suits us best...but...what the hell... Ray ever so slightly shook his head to try and figure out the little riddle. By Sauron's Snot, I SWEAR, those were DONKEY hoof prints, and it looked like they were running full bore with something mighty heavy on them, but how the heck could that be? Drunken donkey races? After a silent laugh, he dismissed these thoughts for later.

Ithilion began to prance nervously, throwing his head back and making little half leaps, as though torn between flight and fight. “Stop that you idiot…!� Marty punched his neck, but Ithilion merely pinned his ears and stomped in annoyance, shifting his weight from one side to another, giving a little screech, half of fear, half of anger.

Viv smiled as she entered the clearing, leaning over Laslech’s neck to avoid getting brushed off onto an overhanging tree branch. “Hey guys! It just took me a while to find this place; it’s pretty out of the way… So, um…yeah, the race.� Her smile turned into an uncertain grin, that Ray shared.

Marty suppressed a groan. “Yes, the race, so glad you noticed that this wasn’t a tea party.� Marty couldn’t suppress a grin at the pair of them. Viv and Ray looked like they had both just been woken up. Man, they both got it bad! I hope when I’m in love I don’t look like such a doofus! “Is it safe to assume that you haven’t gone over the race course?� Ithilion pinned his ears, stretched his neck and snorted at Laslech and Viv, causing the mare to swing her head around and try to nip the stallion. Fortunately, both Marty and Viniglaen were present of mind enough to tug their horses apart before any damage was done. Both Volricom and Raendil rolled their eyes at the unfriendly display.

He and Marty shared a look that said it all.

Women.

“No, I’m afraid I didn’t have time to go the course, I guess I will just have to stick hot on your heals if I am to figure it out. Or to win. I didn’t come here to loose, make no mistake! It isn’t going to be an easy win for you fine fellows, I assure you.� At the base of Viv’s eyes there was the spark. The same spark went through the other two, their blood becoming aflame with it. Competition. “Well, gentlemen, what are we waiting for?�

“Here, look, the race is about 3 miles long. Half of it is in the wooded area, we will probably have to jump, dodge and generally maneuver our way through the woods. The other half is plain speed on the open flats. Be careful though, if you try to short cut through these woods, you will end up in some mighty rough territory, and you more than likely will end up breaking both your's and Laslech's legs..� Ray jumped onto the ground and drew the racecourse in the dirt, Viv watched aptly, thinking; Well, so much for the easy way of winning. Shortcut = Broken Legs. THAT would be a fiasco! She looked at the etching in the dirt, forcing that into her head, and willing other interesting topics out of it.

As she looked at the map, she felt a slight sinking in her chest. Oh shoot, this is some serious stuff…I’d better focus on staying in the saddle and not making a fool out of myself. Hmmm…he DOES look good in that tunic. GAH! Wrong thoughts! Wrong thoughts!


“Alright then, to win, all you have to do is grab your spear, which is red for you, and shove it in the target at the end of the course, which is red also, trust me, it’s a piece of cake!� Ray remounted, leaping like a cat. They were off a ways to the starting point, each now absorbed in their own minds, running the course ere their horse’s hooves touched it. Each only hearing the thrum of their hearts, pounding away, like a primordial drum in their ears and the rhythmic thud of their mount’s hooves.

Horses lined up at the start. Muscles tensed. Eyes strained. Eager snorts came from straining mounts. The shout was given.

They were off!

[Rían]

Later that morning
The Red Herring

RÃ*an, Tyaron and Alagos took their leave of Professor Mahtaliel. RÃ*an firmly took her brother's arm, pretending to not see Tyaron's. "WHY did I let Tyaron kiss me like that last night? What in the WORLD am I going to do NOW? I'm NEVER letting him sing to me again - it just ... DOES things to me! And I bet he KNOWS it, too!" she thought in frustration, as they approached the Red Herring. (When it came to singing, her elven blood ran strong.)

The men gave their orders to the waitress, who was trying not to stare too noticeably at them (elves were not ALL that common in those parts, and these elves had devices on their clothing that she had never seen before - very interesting!)

"I think I'll have a little something to eat, after all," said RÃ*an, as she caught the waitress's eye and added her order. "And can you please help me take these jewels out of my hair while we're waiting, Alagos?"

"I think you look beautiful just as you are," said Alagos with what he hoped was a winning smile.

"Nice try, brother, but I can hardly go to class like this! It's bad enough that I can't change my dress, thanks to Professor Galaddanun, but at least I can take my jewels off. Come on now, give me a hand! And maybe I won't take so long tonight doing your hair."

Alagos got up, stood behind his sister, and, bending close over her, started to take the intricate hair piece and jewels out of her dark hair. Tyaron watched briefly, then looked across the way and started fiddling with the clasp of his dagger again. Finally he pulled it out and started absent-mindedly running his finger over the intricate etching on the blade.

"Just hand me that dagger for a minute, will you? Something's stuck here," said Alagos, winking at Tyaron.

RÃ*an's hands flew up to her hair. "You wouldn't dare..." she started, then noticed a small boy staring at her. "Hello, Arabud!" she said with a smile. The young boy continued to stare. She was such a nice lady, and so pretty! (he had a minor crush on her - he was prone to crushes). "Come here and have a pastry!" she added, as the waitress set down their food.

"No thank you, Miss, I've already eten," he said shyly as he came up to her.

"What are you doing here? What will your brother do without you to help him at the stables?" said RÃ*an in a serious tone, as one capable person to another.

"My brother sent me into town to order up s'more of those special oats that the horses like so much, Miss. Can I take any message or anything back to him for you?" asked the devoted boy, eager to help the pretty lady.

"Hmm - no, thank you, but thank you for your offer," she replied after pretending to consider the question seriously. "Now you better get on back before your brother needs you!"

Arabud bowed awkwardly and started to leave, and then RÃ*an, remembering something, called him back.

"I just remembered - there IS a quick errand you could do for me," she said. "Could you please run and tell your father that my brother and my good friend have come to visit me, and that they can take out Hwesta any time they would like. Their names are Alagos and Tyaron. Quickly, now, and then back to Orrodel!"

Arabud, glad he could help her, ran off to his father's shop, quickly delivered the message, and then high-tailed it back to Orrodel.

[Lady Marion Magdalena]

Mahtaliel sat down at her desk and pulled the unfinished schedules towards her. Thankfully she had gotten most of the student schedules copied out during the night, with blessedly few mistakes. Once the ink was on the page, correcting an error was next to impossible without starting over. That was one of the reasons the making the schedules was such a hated job among the professors.

There were only a handful more to finish, she dealt with Rian's first, just Jewelry-Making and Art-History.

Now it was only the professor's teaching schedules. Mahtaliel smiled mischieviously to herself. The only good thing about being in charge of the schedules is that if the other professors failed to request a time in advance, which they almost always did, she got to decide whose classes were at which time.

Let's see, she thought, Bumbledore had miraculously remembered to request his favored time this year, and he had only the one commerce class. Done.

Her own schedule had been finished well before. Fernick always had his wine tasting class late in the day, just before supper-time.

Now, who to stick with the early morning and the just before or after mid-day meal class times?

Feeling more cheerful, she picked up the Chancellor's class schedule...

[Earniel]

“You’re back early�, remarked Itazel when Eärniel re-entered the kitchen.

“With good reason. Is Danor around? I’d have something to ask you both.�

“A moment, dear.� Itazel strutted to the door that opened on a tiny enclosed court yard. “DANOR!� She bellowed. “Kitchen, please!�

Danor came inside, slightly muttering. “Itazel, honey, the neighbours aren’t deaf you know. Neither am I. Oh, hallo again Eärniel. Back so soon?�

“Good day, Danor.� Eärniel said with a smile. “ I wanted to ask you both something. I’ve run into three old friends of mine. They have not found proper lodgings in Tharbad yet. So I was wondering, since you and Itazel know Tharbad better than me, whether you cannot recommend me an inn where I can point them to.�

“Send them to another inn, when we have empty rooms up here?� Itazel interrupted. “No, no, that just won’t do. Why Eärniel, I’m disappointed! I thought you Elves invented the concept of hospitality! “

Eärniel laughed. “I would gladly offer them rooms in my home in Nîn-In-Eilph, Itazel, but I’d run the risk they’d drown in the bogs if I sent them there without a guide. Besides, my friend will probably need to reach the university daily, like I do.�

“Well, then that’s settles it.� Itazel said firmly. “They’ll be staying here. I’m sure Danor will love having the company. Then he hears some sweeter voice than mine constantly goading him to get to work.�

“Itaze-el!� Danor exclaimed, his voice dripping with mock-hurt.

“Itazel, you are too kind.� Eärniel said earnestly.

“Nonsense! We’ll see whether you’re still convinced of that when I make you all help with the dishes!� Itazel added while waving a warning finger.

Eärniel grinned. “Oh, I’m sure that won’t be a problem.�

Itazel turned to Danor. “ I’m going to open up the rooms upstairs. Finish whatever you doing in the court yard and come help me then. Go get your friends, Eärniel. They’re no point in letting them wait. Go on then, haven’t got all day.�

After that Itazel immediately bustled off to work. Danor watched her go and scratched his head. He looked with some suspicion at Eärniel. Eärniel gave him an innocent look back.

“Did you know we had three empty rooms next to yours?� he asked finally.

“I think Itazel mentioned something like that the first day I got here, yes.�

“And you probably figured out Itazel likes nothing better than to mother over people. Regardless of what she says about me, she really loves to have company over herself.�

“That had come to my attention,� Eärniel admitted.

"So why do I have the feeling that you two feel very satisfied with thinking you've both out-smarted the other?"

"Because you're very perceptive," Eärniel said laughing. "You don't mind, do you, Danor?"

"No, I don't." Danor started laughing too. He walked back to the court yard to finish his work there.

"You're too kind too, Danor." Eärniel called after him.

Eärniel quickly ran upstairs to take one of her dresses with her for RÃ*an. Her friend was still wearing the beautiful dress from the reception (Eärniel briefly wondered just what RÃ*an had been up too all night not to have had time to go home and change) and that dress was hardly suitable for entering classes.

In the next room she could hear Itazel humming and airing the other bed rooms. Smiling to herself and indeed wondering just who out-smarted who, Eärniel left the old inn and went to the Red Herring.

[Grey_Wolf]

Scars, the leader of the Marten Guild, sneaked into a crevice in the eastern wall with his two pals Trick and Treat, with the sole purpose of creating havoc.

[Gordis]

Orientation Meeting

University. Monday 10 AM

At five minutes to ten, most of the Professors of USAT were assembled in the Great Reception Hall, waiting for the Orientation Meeting to begin. From the adjacent Entrance Hall came a muted hum of students voices. Usually, the Schedules, prepared by Professor Mahtaliel were first distributed among the Professors for their approval, and later given to the students.

Mahtaliel stood near a window, holding the scrolls with schedules in her hands, and surveying the assembled Professors. All were there, save Jas Fernik, Bumbledore and the Chancellor. There was not much hope to see the first two anytime soon, but Mahtaliel was waiting for the Chancellor to arrive at 10 sharp. That was his manner, and, with time, Mahtaliel started to think his punctuality was as annoying as everything else about the man.

This time, however, a Chancellor’s page in a bright University livery opened the door and announced: "The Chancellor kindly asks the Honourable Professors to proceed to his Study at the Palace, in order to present the Schedules to His Lordship and to hold the Orientation Meeting" .

Mahtaliel bridled immediately. "What is the point to go to the Palace when all the Professors and the students are already assembled here?"

The others only stood up meekly and filed through the garden to the Palace. On their way they met Jas Fernik who has just left the Professor’s apartments and was sprinting to the Main Hall.

"Come with us, Jas", called Mahtaliel. "The Chancellor deems it beneath him to come to us, so we have to go to him."

Once in the Palace hall, they noticed a thin, pale, flaxen-haired student in shabby clothes leaving the Chancellor’s study. He was obviously distressed, but sill he bowed politely and stepped aside, letting the Professors file past him.

The Chancellor sat at his table, stern look on his face. Frowning, he nodded to the professors, and gestured for them to sit.

"Good morning, honourable Colleagues. Please forgive me this change of settings. I had a very boring visitor, and couldn’t possibly be on time in the Hall. Now we can start the meeting without delay. Lady Mahtaliel, please read the schedules".

The clock in the corner chimed ten. Mahtaliel’s read the Schedules, exasperation obvious in her voice.

"Excellent, My lady." said professor Galadannun from his corner. "But where are my Oriental Languages?"

[Serenoli]

Tolvadok dressed carefully, making sure he was wearing the shabbiest, oldest clothes he had. He had a plan which made it imperative to dress his worst.

As he got out of his room, a small man ran out from the next room, and crashed straight into him. He watched as the man stood mortified, offering him copious apologies, and was amused to recognise him as the man who had so wrongly directed him last night.
"I'm so sorry... wasn't looking, do forgive me-"

Tolvadok cut him short with a polite, "Its perfectly all right, I'm unhurt and you needn't worry." He noticed the man, probably a professor, looking at him strangely... obviously he, too recognised him now.

"But, I'm glad to have run into you, professor. I am new here and I needed to ask a few questions."

"I'm sorry, dear fellow, but I'm in a huge hurry, the Orientation''s about to start, and all the teachers have to be there. Say, are you a teacher? You look kind of young, though..."

"Actually, I'm a travelling scholar, and I was hoping to do some of the courses here-"

"You had better talk to Professor Mahtaliel. She's in charge of all that. And now, if you'll excuse me, I have to go."

Tolvadok watched as the man ran down the corridor, and smiled thoughtfully. Mahtaliel... wasn't she one of the Elves the Morgul Lord had told them to watch out for? In that case, she would be the perfect person to feed his story to. At any rate, he needed to talk to the Morgul Lord about his plan... he should have asked the professor... but he would probably have given wrong directions again. Still, he could feel the general direction of the Morgul Lord. All he had to do was go that way.

[Udukhaturz]

Governor’s Mansion, Monday, around 12:30

A patronizing expression on his face, Maethor sat looking blandly as Miriel and Malaphel chattered on.

“Oh, you simply must come to the governor’s mansion for coffee, Professor Maethor,� Miriel had effused.

“Are you sure it would not be too much trouble, my dear?� Maethor hedged politely.

Malaphel, not to be cut out of the conversation by her sister, gave her sister a piqued look and then interrupted her. “Certainly not, Professor. We would be delighted to have you!�

“Shall we leave now then, ladies?� Maethor asked.

“Oh, yes, yes!� both of them said in unison.

Quickly he paid for the bottle of wine that he had drunk at the Red Herring. Then with one arm hooked about Miriel’s arm and the other hooked about Malaphel’s, they set off for the governor’s mansion. The doorman smiled benignly as he ushered them into the entry hall. Soon the two girls had taken him into a comfortable sitting room. Orders for tea and cakes were given to the servants, and soon all were seated comfortably about the room.

“Delightful tea, my dears,� Udu said. Really he thought, “It is rather bland for my tastes.�

“Cakes, sir?� asked the serving girl.

“Only a few, please. Since recovering from a terrible Eastern malady, I have not had much appetite,� he said and smiled politely. He nodded to her as she gave him a plate with several rich pastries.

“More tea, sir?�

“Just a spot, thank you,� he beamed at the serving girl.

Miriel and Malaphel ate their cakes and drank their tea daintily, smiling at him, but their interests were perked at the mention of some strange disease.

“Were you terribly ill, Professor?� Miriel asked excitedly.

“It must have been terrible, Professor Maethor!� added Malaphel.

“I almost perished,� he said. “Death was almost upon me.� He thought, “I might as well make this sound as serious as I can, and sympathy is always a soothing balm.� He coughed deeply.

“Oh, Professor, I am so sorry!� sympathized Miriel.

“You poor dear,� said Malaphel.

“Ladies, I am in fair health now, but I fear my appetite is wretched. I ate but little.�

They looked at him sympathetically, and thought about what he had said.

“I would like to have met your father,� he addressed Miriel.

“He is occupied in his study with a great store of papers and will not be disturbed. I am sure he would have like to have met you, Professor!�

“Perhaps another time,� said Maethor.

He crossed his legs and ate sparsely of the cakes. “I saw only a little of the performance of the Eastern dancers at the reception. That was disappointing. I should like to have seen a longer performance. I have seen them in the East.�

“Tell us about the dances of the East, Professor,� Miriel said excitedly.

“Yes, do, do!� echoed Malaphel.

He thought to himself and pondered what he could say that would not be too shocking to their Western senses.

“I will say, my dears,� a slight hint of a smile on his face, “that they put their hearts, souls and bodies into their dances. They are said to be very,� he paused, “rewarding. The dances I mean.�

[Lady Marion Magdalena]

"Professor Mahtaliel," interrupted the Chancellor, irritation obvious in his voice. "Please add Professor Galadannun’s classes to the schedule. I expect you to be less forgetful next time."

"I was not forgetful, Chancellor. There were no students listed for Oriental Languages and thus no reason to include it." Mahtaliel replied, thoroughly annoyed.

"Did I not tell you to include all classes regardless? Last night our Governor requested that his daughters take Oriental Languages and I agreed, believing that it would be a simple change to make."

"I've been doing the schedules since before you came here and not once have I ever been told to include classes for which there are no students."

"Would I lie to you, Professor?" The Chancellor snapped, "It is your own fault if you chose to ignore my instructions."

"I ignored nothing," she told him angrily, "You were blantently discourteous when you failed to inform me of this change last night despite having ample oppurtunity to do so!"

The chancellor smiled sarcastically, "Professor, I have more important things to do during the Annual Reception than to discuss schedules with you".

There was an awkward silence. Realizing that the rest of the professors were watching with visible interest, Mahtaliel attempted to calm down.

"How many students?" She asked, turning to Galadanunn.

"Two. The Governor's daughters." He replied cooley.

"Let me see your schedule." She took the paper and studied it for a moment, before appropriating a quill and jotting down the class in an empty time slot. "I will make the changes, because there are only two students effected. Should this happen again, you are on your own."

"Very well, go and inform the students," commanded the Chancellor impassivley. He rose, indicating that the Orientation was over. "Professor Galadannun, please stay here, I must have some words with you regarding your classes."

[Telcontar_Dunedain]

Quickly everybody filed out of the Chancellor’s study, leaving only the Chancellor himself and Professor Galadannun.
“I need to ask you something,” said the Chancellor.
“And I need to tell you something My Captain. Yesterday there was a situation, which was overlooked when you arrived due to the circumstances,” replied Khamûl urgently.
“A situation?” said the Chancellor, frowning.
“Yes My Lord. Before I arrived Lord Buzukkumarz unfortunately knocked over one of the Maids. She had the Black Breath and after the state Lilaewen and Buzukkumarz were in last night they could have said anything,” said Khamûl. Although his power easily outmatched the lower seven the Morgul Lord was more powerful by far, and was to be feared when angry.
“Well I trust all was sorted,” replied the Chancellor, staying calm much to the relied of Khamûl.
“Yes. I erased all memories as well as I could, and planted in her mind lust for my stable boy. I poured some bottles of wine down her throat and took her to the stables. This morning me and Buzukkumarz took her to the bridge where she was seen to commit suicide,” replied Khamûl.
“And you didn’t think to mention it to me, even after what I said last night?” answered the Chancellor.
“It seemed but a small matter My Lord. One mere mortal. I deemed you would see me fit to deal with her,” said Khamûl, getting slightly worried again.
“You were right, My Lord Khamûl, and you have done well, and rewarded my trust in you. Yet I believe we shall avoid the matter of the elf-servant,” replied the Chancellor, with a small smile. “For I have an important task for you.”

[Rían]

The Red Herring
early Monday morning

Tyaron reached out for the teapot and poured out some more tea for everyone, and the talk turned to their plans for the day.

"I have two classes I need to attend shortly," said RÃ*an, "but after that, I'm free, as far as I know, now that I don't need to be at Orrodel anymore."

"Why did you even take that job, sister?" asked Alagos, puzzled.

RÃ*an frowned, her brow wrinkled with thought. "It's hard to explain .. it's just ... don't you ever feel like you want to be around humans, brother? It is part of who we are, you know, and we grew up among the elves and have spent most of our lives among the elves. I just get to where I want to be around humans sometimes, and I found that taking jobs like here at the Red Herring lets me be around them in kind of a ... I don't know, I can just kind of watch..." she trailed off. "Or if I see someone I like, I can talk with them. Then the Orrodel job just came up, and it sounded kind of different and interesting, so I tried it. I don't think I'll be doing a job like that again any time soon, though! I had no idea they expected me to be there all the time!"

"That certainly seemed to be how that Professor looked at it!" agreed Alagos wryly.

"Alagos, don't you ever feel like ... oh, like you're between two worlds sometimes?"

Alagos sat back to think. "I don't know, RÃ*an ... I don't think so. I've always looked on our heritage as an advantage - as a rich thing. And I don't feel the need to be around humans or elves as such, I just like being around people that I like. I do seem to feel much more at home among the elves, but I have met many men that I have felt friendship with in my travels."

RÃ*an shook her head. "Well, enough of that for now." He didn't seem to understand her, although he was trying. She changed the subject. "So what are you two going to do while I'm gone?"

Alagos looked at Tyaron. "What do you say to just exploring the town? I have some shafts that are ready for fletching, and I need to find some silk thread and some hide for glue."

"Fine with me. Why don't you make some triangle cut ones, too? Those are always fun for the boys. I've seen some peeking out at us, and it would be a good way to get to know some of them. I imagine we'll be here awhile, if RÃ*an is going to take those classes."

"Of course I am!" said RÃ*an a bit hotly. "A professor went to a lot of trouble to get me in them, since registration had passed, and they sound very interesting."

"I didn't mean it that way, RÃ*an," said Tyaron. "I didn't expect you to drop your classes. I expect they will be very interesting. And it will give you a good chance to be around more humans, too."

He finished his tea and stood up, stretching in the sun. "I'm ready to go when you are, Alagos," he said. He turned to RÃ*an. "I'll drop by and see how Hwesta is doing, too, and maybe take her out for a quick ride, since you sent the lad to tell the blacksmith about us already."

"That would be great, I'm sure she'd appreciate that!" replied RÃ*an. It was difficult for her to keep just the right tone in her voice. Friendly, as befits a long-time family friend, but not too encouraging. She still couldn't believe that she had let him kiss her last night - his voice always DID affect her, and coming on top of seeing them both again, and that night at the reception... She shook her head - well, that wasn't going to happen again any time soon!

Alagos peered down the street. "Isn't that Eärniel coming, RÃ*an?" he asked.

[Gordis]

Chancellor's study, University Palace, Monday 10.30 AM.

The Morgul Lord rose and went to an open window, screening the surroundings with his senses, to be sure no spies lurked around. Over the recent fifty yours he acquired a habit to do it constantly. There was no one around, no foreign presence, no smell of blood, no stir of thought.

"Yes, we will better not discuss this morning's argument with the Elves, Professor Galadannun", drawled the Captain icily.

The Morgul Lord had been furious when his spies brought reports of the quarrel on the very doorstep of Orrodel, witnessed by the most influential Elves in Tharbad. And now Khamul told him of the murder in the house, this very night. What was the hot-blooded Second thinking? Why had he ever permitted Lilly to hire an Elf? Why would Lilly want one? Blunder after blunder. It is clear that the Easterling can't be left at the head of the Orrodel group anymore, as he is unable to keep quiet.

The Morgul Lord turned back to Khamul. The Lieutenant was waiting, worry obvious on his face. The Captain smiled warmly. The last thing he needed now was a quarrel with the hotheaded vengeful Easterling. He will deal with the Second after the Quest.

"I have an important task for you, Khamul. The one I can't assign to any other, but my most trusted lieutenant."

Khamul nodded, visibly relaxing. "I will do it, My Lord. Just name it."

The Captain scanned the surroundings again, and then said in a level voice "You have seen the Tower of the Keep, Minas Aran. It contains the Library and the Observatory; that is known to everyone. But the old Tower has several levels of underground vaults. Nobody goes there, nobody knows about them. It must remain this way in the future. The vaults keep many secrets. There is my secret laboratory, poison and weapon storage, secret treasury, and torture chambers. I need one whom I can trust to guard all this from nosy Elves and men."

The captain went to the window again and looked on the lush garden. "Your predecessor in Oriental Languages was the former Librarian. Once he ventured into the vaults at night. He wouldn't have been able to open the secret door on his own, but this night I was there myself, weaving some spells. He walked right into the laboratory, curious and awed. I had to dispose of the man diligently; hopefully it stirred no suspicions. You have taken his place, Khamul, so the post of the Librarian is yours by right. You will get a cosy apartment in the Tower itself, and the palace servants, the wine cellar and the kitchen are at your service."

Khamul nodded, pleased and relaxed now. The Chancellor smiled and continued "Recently, Mahtaliel spends a lot of time in the Library, bringing all sort of people with her. That should be stopped. When you take over the Library, the Elves, who hate you, will not venture into the Minas Aran tower too much."

"I will do what I can in that direction" laughed Khamul harshly."But what about those in Orrodel?"

"I will find a new minder for them", said the Captain, smiling to some hidden private joke. "Don't worry. You may take your belongings and move to the Tower this very evening."

[Valandil]

Monday morning - starting about dawn:

Kneeling on the floor, Valandil felt miserable. And what a waste, he thought... all that good, exotic food from the Chancellor's table... now spilled out in the bucket before him. And unless he missed his guess, the mixture was going to continue its work through the rest of his digestive system.

Now THIS was a new use for athelas... mixed with particular herbs and roots it caused... oh great, here we go again...

The Sword of Isildur sat in a corner, quite pleased with itself. 'Well... he's not like his father Isildur was, nor even Aratan or Ciryon... or even Meneldil. More like... Elendil, or Anarion or Elendur...'

'*sigh* - I think I'll be quiet for awhile now.' thought the Sword - as its new master continued in his upheavals. 'As for him... ah, won't do him much harm... might do 'im some good... who can say?'

Estelmo caught sight of Valandil as he wandered through the kitchen for his pre-morning constitutional. "Oh lad!" he said, "Are you alright?"

Valandil retched in response. At least his only class on Monday was a bit later in the day...

- - - - - - -

Oreturion had left the house early, skipping breakfast. There was work to do. He walked briskly toward the University, his eyes fixed forward.

Before long, a knock came to the Chancellor's door. "Enter" he said.

"A Lord Oreturion to see you, Your Grace."

The Chancellor found that he could be surprised. This might be interesting. "Yes... send him in... of course!" and the Chancellor rose in preparation to greeting this guest.

When Oreturion entered the room, he seemed more at ease than he had been in their last discussion at the previous evening's reception - only a very few full hours before. He even seemed almost cordial, and smiled slightly.

"My Lord Ilmenzor." began Oreturion, with a slight incline of his head.

"My Lord Oreturion," replied the Chancellor. "What a pleasant surprise to see you again so soon. How may I be of service to you?"

"Lord Ilmenzor... I have a request. While serving my King here in this city, it seemed an opportune time to pursue the study of a few interests I have always held. I wish to request the use of the University Library."

"Excellent!" replied the Chancellor with a smile. "As an academic, it always brings joy to my heart to see others seek knowledge for its own sake. You have full use of our fine library and access to all our collections therein." Oreturion was not telling him everything, this was certain. What particular interest has suddenly seized this man's fancy? Did it have to do with the shield he had placed upon the man at the banquet?

"Come," he continued. "I will show you the way."

The two of them left the Chancellor's suite and soon reached the library. There, the Chancellor produced a ring of keys, one of which he placed into the lock of the door, opening it, and then he pushed the door aside.

"Come for me when you are finished. If I am not available, leave word for me with my secretary - and they will send someone to watch these doors until I can return to lock them. Now, if you will pardon me, I must return to my duties." This last he said with a bow.

As they exchanged their final pleasantries and said their farewells, the Chancellor decided that Oreturion must be watched. He needed someone there to keep track of things... someone he could trust...

- - - - - - -

As morning turned to noon, Oreturion sat at a great table, with scrolls all about him. He would sit there all day if he must - and tomorrow and the next day and the next. He MUST find all that he could on the drinking customs of Eregion... and the significances of each gem used in them.

[Earniel]

"Ah, I've seen you've eaten already. Good." Eärniel said when she reached the Red Herring and spotted the other Elves.

"Are you ready, RÃ*an? We should get to the university soon to collect our lesson rosters. It's been a busy morning so far but we've still got a day in class ahead of us."

"I'm ready, or at least as ready as I can be, being barred from my belongings in Orrodel at the moment." RÃ*an said somewhat disappointed.

"In that case," Eärniel said with a smile, "I'm pleased to tell you that you will forget the Orrodel-place very soon, for I have succeeded in finding you some proper lodgings, with a less demanding landlord this time. Actually, I have found you all three lodgings. And I can tell the gentlemen," she added with a pointed look at Alagos and Tyaron, "that not showing up and trying to sleep in the wild again, will not be an option."

"And speaking of options," she went on as she rummaged through her shoulder bag, "I nearly forgot. Here. It's one of mine, but it will fit. I doubted you wanted to go to class in your best dress."

She handed RÃ*an a green dress. The fabric was soft and pleasing but the cut was simple.

"Oh Eärniel, thank you! You must have read my mind. I'll go change right away. I'll be back in a minute." RÃ*an said and disappeared with the dress into the back of the café.

"So where did you manage to find rooms so quickly?" Alagos asked. "You weren't gone long."

"The couple that have provided me with lodgings still had some empty rooms. Their house used to be an inn but it closed several years ago. But Itazel and Danor still like having visitors so they were very eager to have you staying over. It's not far from here, just walk in the direction of the Menetar, turn left after the Governor's Palace, cross the canal and the first house on the right is that of Itazel and Danor. They're expecting you."

RÃ*an returned, now wearing the green dress.

"Ah," RÃ*an said, her eyes shining, "This is much better. Shall we?"

"We shall," Eärniel said. "Alagos, Tyaron, we'll see you later at the inn. Goodbye!"

The two Elves left the Red Herring and turned in the direction of the university.

[Butterbeer]

*flashback*

"Aye, mores the shame of it, Bingo: tis young Melwen, Zimra's cousin ... you remember Zimra? used to work in the bakers on Tien hael ... always had a smile for the watch as i recall ..."

"you don't say?" replied Barliman, pulling the pipe from his mouth that momentarily dropped open ...

.................................................. ..........................................

"that i do!" drawled Dwimmer.

" i heard tell both zimra and and the unfortunate Melwen both recently just took up positions at the orrodel house - wi' them there new folk what just arrived but a few days ago ..."

"ah" pondered constable BB, popping the pipe back into the corner of his mouth, "mmmph!"

dwimmer took another long pull on his pipe.

the pair of them sat there a while wreathed in smoke

"did ee' hear tell who's a running the household, then dwimmer?"

"aye! ... an elf! mark you ... maybe you've seen her ... used to work in here as it happens - always braiding her hair - "

"you don't say!" repeated barliman again, thinking .... dwimmer's eyes sparkled looking at the constable's constipated expression ... thinking deeply by the looks of it, he thought ...


suddenly with an almighty heave and sigh barliman got up, the dark green watch's cloak swirling around him.

"well i must go see Zimra ... once you've attended the body dwimm, let me know if aught appears amiss, will 'ee?" with a nod at the undertaker he turned, but just by the door he again looked over at dwimmerbusy "and let Mrs miggins and all the staff here know ..i'd like a quick word with the elven lady should they see her!"

with that Barliman was gone .. he was not looking forward to bearing this news to young Zimra, not one bit ...

stepping outside into the cold air, he felt a chill wind blow almost straight through him ... slowly he took out his hat, the deer-stalker that Elmir had given him on his last birthday

with a shrill whistle, he called "Watson!"

and moving off in his cloak, hat, and with his lit pipe he walked slowly towards orrodel quitely observing the quiet streets, until with a patter of feet and a friendly howl his hound watson joined him, tail wagging excitedly.



.................................................. ............................................

"Grrrrrrmmmph!" managed bumble again his bleary eye now focusing on the maid

"well good morning, then professor, i'll be orf, theres a hearty broth ere' for you, just what you like after the reception!"

winking, she left.

.................................................. .............................................




somewhere an owl hooted ...... it was her birthday, someone had left a fresh fat field mouse in the old tower ....

[Rían]

Monday Morning
the Red Herring, and on the way to the Inn

Tyaron and Alagos watched RÃ*an and Eärniel walk off. "Well, let's get over to this inn!" Alagos said, standing up and stretching in his turn. "It will be nice to sleep in something softer than a tree again!" "And it will be nice to be near RÃ*an's friend, too," he thought to himself.

"RÃ*an's friend seems nice; it will be pleasant to be lodging with her and get to know her better," said Tyaron, as though he was reading his friend's mind. Alagos stopped in mid-stretch and eyed his friend suspiciously, and then grinned.

They set off slowly down the road, turning left after the Governor's mansion as Eärniel has instructed. Alagos stole a quick look at his friend. "Well, speaking of lovely women, and seeing as how we're finally alone ... " he stopped and leaned back against the canal railing with an expectant look. But Tyaron didn't seem inclined to pick up the subject. "Come on, brother - did you two finally come to an agreement? It sure looked like it, from my vantage point! And it's about time, too, in my opinion! I don't know how you've been so patient with her."

Tyaron leaned his elbows on the railing and watched the water flow by. "No, we didn't," he said, not taking his eyes off the water.

Alagos was surprised - this was NOT the answer he had expected. He looked around and saw that no one was within hearing distance, but he switched over to Gondolic just in case. "Then what were you doing kissing her like that? How would she have allowed that? I know her!" said Alagos, a little brotherly protectiveness rising up in him.

"I have been very patient, and I've decided that I've been patient enough. It's now or never, and it was imperative for me to find out if there is at least even a little spark of love for me in her heart. You've seen her fight against me - but it IS a fight, and I think that means that there's something she's fighting against that is FOR me."

He turned to face Alagos. "My singing has always greatly affected her, as you know," he said impassively. "She may be pereldar, but as far as singing goes, I've seen few other even among the Eldar with her sensibility." He paused, and then contined quietly and a bit arrogantly, his eyes dark and difficult to read: "So I sang her into my power, Alagos. I sang to her with everything I had until I knew she was completely in my power. And then I kissed her."

Alagos didn't trust himself to answer; he was too shocked. This was not the friend he knew. This was some cold, arrogant stranger. Tyaron went on, impassively and deliberately. "I thought that if there was absolutely NOTHING in her heart for me, that she would soon start to object. But she didn't. Maybe my singing affected her more than I thought, but I think I'm right - I think there IS something there. Of course now she's angry at me and is trying to keep her distance, but that's to be expected."

Alagos felt the hot anger rising in him. This was his sister they were talking about, and his best friend had taken unfair advantage of her, and was now impartially analyzing her like she was some type of animal he was hunting. He said quietly but through clenched teeth, "If I didn't know you so well and for so long, Tyaron, there might have been TWO duels this morning."

Tyaron sighed heavily and looked back at the water. "I don't blame you, Alagos, but nothing else has worked. I had to do this; to shake her out of her comfortable little place of keeping me at an arm's distance, just where she wants me. I won't stay where she wants me to stay anymore. It's marriage or a final farewell, and I have one year. I'll stop at nothing. There is something in her that she has to deal with that has prevented her from marrying me, and letting her stay comfortable will only let her continue to ignore it. I'm going to force her to deal with it."

"Why did you tell me this?" asked Alagos grimly, after a long pause.

"I thought you should know. You are her brother," said Tyaron simply. He sighed again, and then added, "No matter what you might be thinking now, I am an honorable man, and you are her only living relative. I just thought you should know."

Alagos was torn. He had long desired for them to marry, but this ...

"Has anything else worked?" asked Tyaron.

"No," he had to admit.

They looked at the water together.

"Just ... be careful," Alagos finally said. "I'll be watching you."

Tyaron laid a hand on Alagos's arm. "I would give my life for her," he said, "if she would only allow me. I love her, Alagos. I will be careful."

[Udukhaturz]

Governor’s Mansion, Monday, around 1:30

“It was so nice having you today, Professor Maethor,� gushed Miriel, “and we do hope you will come again!�

“Oh yes!� echoed Malaphel.

“Ladies, it was a delight being here, and I am quite sure I will come back as often as I am invited,� Udu remarked as he rose to his feet. He was relieved that at last he would be free of them for the rest of the day. He thought he would walk over to the university and investigate that second floor where the Eastern dancers were supposed to be staying. He surely did not want Miriel and Malaphel tagging along with him for that.

Each sister stood up and offered him her hand. He bowed, and after taking each one in turn, his lips barely grazed over the top of each one of their hands, the most discreet of courtly handkissing. They both beamed.

“Now I must be going.�

“Let us show you to the door,� they said in unison as each one took his arm. They passed the doorman who was dozing but quickly woke up, opening the door for them and wishing the professor well.

“Goodbye! Goodbye!� the sisters said.

“Good day to you both,� Maethor replied, and then turned, walking down the steps and onto the street.

After making his way to the university, he climbed the stairs up to the second floor. An inquiry about the Eastern dancers made to passing servants yielded only that, “They are resting.� Udu wondered if he would ever get to see them.

“Ah, well,� he thought, as he left the university and strolled down Menetar. “I could use a drink of something far stronger than tea after all that.� He passed by the Red Herring Inn where he had been earlier that day, and then walked down a street to the southwest. Arriving at a bridge across the Cherant Formen, he felt that uncomfortable feeling of the closeness of water. As he looked down below the bridge for a moment, he felt dizzy and disoriented. “Look straight ahead,� he thought as he set his gaze firmly on the other bank.

Letting out a sigh of relief as he crossed over, he walked close to the buildings on the right side of the street. Then ahead he saw a sign, “The Rotten Cod Inn.�

“It appears to be one of those disreputable waterfront places that sailors always like to go. Usually both the establishments and the clientele are most unsavory.� He was dubious about the appearance of the place and the patrons, so he stood standing in the street, considering whether to take a chance on the inn or go back to the Red Herring.

A mariner, who had far too much ale to drink, staggered out of the door of the inn and sang a lewd song about tavern wenches. Udu sidestepped the man as he wobbled over to him, saying, "Say, mate, you wouldn't have a copper coin to spare? I am out of money and I need another drink badly!"

Udu took a coin out of a pouch at his belt and flipped it to the drunken man.

"Cheers," he said as he sauntered away. "I might as well explore the city. It is well to know every back alley," he thought as he walked northeastward along the streets between buildings. When he came out of the road to a thoroughfare, directly before him was a sign that read, "Singing Swan Inn." As he walked in, he was greeted by the innkeeper.

"A quiet table, please, and a bottle of wine."

[Butterbeer]

Bumble staggered rather erratically out of bed, his white silvery hair standing up like storm tossed wave spray...

mmm.... if he breakfasted quickly and threw on his dressing gown and slippers over his just rather off-white long-johns he could make it to the orientation in close to some sort of time ....

ahh! the hot game and marrow soup was good ... always a boon after a late night and the odd goblet of wine or two ....

popping on his bear skin slippers and tattered brown and white checkered dressing gown and taking the broth with him in it's tall mug he doddered off towards the orientation ...

best not be later than usual he thought, wouldn't do at all!


.................................................. .............................


Constable BB was, in the best traditions of the watch, moving slowly .... dawdling along you might almost say .... he could not even bring himself to whistle - he just was not looking forward to bringing this news to Zimra ...

the house at orrodel was looming ever nearer, the City was now beginning to wake in earnest, carts trundling along the cobbled streets, a drover marching his geese up to the market,

"watson! ..heel, boy!"

as he passed the hill and the museum, Augon Vin's beautiful square could be seen ahead, farmers and traders setting up the monday market in the eastern side of the square, well away from the towering statue of Elendil and the fountain ...

[Grey_Wolf]

Scars, Trick and Treat snuck into the Governor's Palace on their treck for treasure and mischief to comit.

[Lady Marion Magdalena]

Mahtaliel entered the Main Hall and was relieved to see that most of the students were already there and in possesion of their schedules, thanks to the two resident assistant professors, Raisa and Gawen.

"We're still missing a few Professor," Gawen, the younger of the two, handed her the remaining schedules, "If the half hour comes and they still haven't shown up would you like Raisa or myself to stay and wait?"

"Thank you, Gawen, I think that would be best." Mahtaliel quickly leafed through the papers, checking to see who had yet to come, spotting the papers for the MM's she pulled them out and marked the change in their schedules down before returning them to to pile. "Raisa!"

Hearing her name called, Raisa broke away from the crowd to join them.
"Yes?"

"Would you stay here and wait for any students who might be running late?"

"Will do."

"Good. Gawen, I need you to take these papers," she handed him the schedules belonging to the professors whose absence had been noted, "Could you deliver these to the professors they belong to?"

"I'll take care of it."

He took the papers and headed off just as the bells began to ring the half hour.

[Serenoli]

Jas glanced down the timetable that had been handed to him. Wine tasting was at the very bottom, 4pm to 6 pm. And only four students... thank Arda! He remembered once a whole gang of rowdy youths had taken his course only to spend the whole time swilling as much free wine as they could, and generally getting drunk... it had been a nightmare! He still shuddered at the memory...

In the meantime, he might just as well have a spot of breakfast. And then, he could devote some time planning his first lesson, and then lunch, as usual, in the Singing Swan. They usually had some excellent mulled mead...

***

Coming out of the Morgul Lord's study, Tolvadok met a veritable herd of professors and students led by a middle-aged and harrased looking elf. He put on a fake distressed look at once.. and then bowing politely, he stepped aside. Watching Mahtaliel pass through the corner of his eye, (and it had to be her, he hadn't seen any other elfs so far) he wondered what she was doing here in Tharbad... well, he would find out soon enough.

[Butterbeer]

carreering creakily around a sudden corner that had been looming for a while, professor Bumbledore banged straight into Gawen running to complete her errand ..

"oomph!"

"Ah .. good morning Gawen ... where the devil is the orientation thingy? Has it been moved?"

Bumble (never liking to be more than 30 minutes late, he was not a tardy man after all - had just been tipped off by a porter with a wink that they had all gone off to the Chancellors' study,)

Gawen, smiled , "ahh Sir Bumbeldore! - the very man - here's your schedule ... must dash - yes we all got called into the chancellor's office - i'll tell proffessor Mahtaliel that you had just missed us going there!"

with a smile and a hasty nod Gawen ran off

Bumble smiled, he had not wanted to appear late - well time for some fresh air and then on to lunch , where was Proffessor Jas? twas time for a second guess on the wine maybe over a hearty lunch later - and to continue their game, the Singing swan would be just the place ....

[Udukhaturz]

Singing Swan Inn, Monday afternoon, around 2 PM

The wine was a good vintage and quite satisfying to the palate. Sitting at a table in the corner of the room, Maethor watched the clientele. It was an excellent place to sit, offering a clear view of anyone who came in the door. The innkeeper had been quite curious about him, but Udu was confident that any questions in the man’s mind were settled after Udu had explained that he was the new professor teaching siege tactics at the university.

“Pleased to meet you, sir,� said the innkeeper as he showed him to his table. “The serving girl will be here soon to take your order. I am sure that you will find everything to your liking.�

Udu was quite sure that he would. The serving girl was pretty, but not that pretty, Udu thought as he looked at her. He quickly dismissed her from his thoughts with a courteous smile.

“Sir, will a bottle of wine be all you want? Would you not like a light afternoon repast?�

“No, thank you, a bottle of wine is all I wish,� he said as he smiled benignly to her.

Mildly disappointed that the Eastern dancing girls had been resting when he had inquired about them at the university, Udu wondered if they were as good as the girls in the East. Such thoughts made him homesick, and he reminded himself to look for some gifts for his wives back in the East. “They will be impressed,� he thought, “even at a bauble as a memento of my trip to the West.� They were easy to please, all of them being, for the most part, daughters of herdsmen and drovers.

“I must not drink too much wine in public,� he concluded, “for mortals cannot consume such quantities as I do without showing the effects of it.� Disappointment filled him, for he had been quite thirsty. There had been several frustrations that day, but at least he had been successful in purchasing that house that he had seen on his ride into the city.

“Close to the livery stable,� he thought, “and excellent in case I should have to leave the city quickly.� Some of his loyal men, warriors from the East, would be arriving in a fortnight or so, and along with them, traveling by wain, would be two of his wives. Of course, he would let it be known that one was his housekeeper and cook, and the other was his chambermaid. That would work well enough, for the one he hoped to pass for a housekeeper was the only one of the pair who could speak anything other than a remote dialect of Khand.

He would have to move out of his rooms at the university, but there was plenty of time for that. Besides, he must see the Eastern dancing girls. “Tonight,� he thought, “I will take another visit to the second floor of the university, and, who knows, perhaps they will be entertaining with another one of those dances that only the women of the East can perform.�

Most of the six men that he expected to arrive were unable to speak anything but their own native dialects, but two of them could, and he planned on making one of them his “doorman.� If anyone tried to break into his house or spy upon him, all six of the men were quite adequate with a wicked curved dagger, and were more than capable of dealing with “burglars.�

Two men were escorted into the common room by the innkeeper, and Udu recognized both of them from the reception. He stood up at his table and called out, “Professor Bumbledore and Professor Fernik, will you not join me for a drink and something to eat?�

“Certainly, certainly,� said Bumbledore as he shambled towards Udu’s table, and Fernik was quick to nod his agreement. Soon both men were seated on the other side of the table.

“Mortals,� he thought, smiling his smile that touched the lips but never went to the eyes.

“Good to see both of you today. Splendid day, is it not?�

[Gordis]

University Main Hall, around 10.30 AM Monday

Aiwendis stood slightly apart from the small crowd of students assembled in the Main Hall. The Professors were late with the schedules. Aiwendis sought the King, but Valandil was not there, and she felt relief. It would be difficult to face him after last night. Marthalion and Raendil, the King’s two friends, were missing as well, as was Vivvie. Perhaps she has been successful in ensnaring one of them, if not both.

Lilly stood in the far corner, pouting. At least, she understood well that she was not supposed to know Aiwendis. Or, perhaps, Lilly understood nothing, as usual, but just hated to approach her after the quarrel last night. Aiwendis felt irritation at Lilly stirring again.

At this moment in walked Mahtaliel, followed by Gawen and Raisa, her two assistants. Aiwendis watched as the Crow made her announcement thinking about her collections of poisons in the Tower vaults. On the second shelf there was a little bottle of viper venom, and, near it , was that of a giant Haradian tarantula. The latter was too exotic, perhaps, but vipers were in abundance in Tharbad area. …Or this nice pale mushroom… She could order mushroom dish in the kitchens, for all the University. The season was quite right for mushrooms. Who would suspect her if one wrong mushroom had been collected?. Oh… if only the Morgul Lord permitted her…

Finally Gawen approached and, with a slight bow, handed Aiwendis her schedule. Aiwendis looked at it with sinking heart. Yes, here it was. Jewelry-Making, at ten. So, she will have to go to her lecture right away and listen to the hated, stinking Elf.

Sighing, Aiwendis left the Main Hall, turned right and then left into Rath Aran. Not far from the North Gate, on her right, she saw the L-shaped Arts building, its walls concealed by ivy and its window-shutters painted yellow. Sighing again, she entered and sat alone in a small classroom, waiting for the Crow.

[Telcontar_Dunedain]

Chancellor's study
Monday 10:10AM

"Gladly do I accept this kind offer, my Captain," replied Khamûl, knowing full well that there was no offer to accept. It was an order. "I will return to the University at 3pm with my things."
"There will be someone waiting," replied the Chancellor, who nodded towards the door, the sign for Khamûl to leave.
As he was leaving a young student Khamûl had seen with Professor Mahtalliel ran up to him.
"Professor," he panted, handing him a peice of paper. "Your timetable Professor. Oh, and you've been scheduled to teach Westeren History of Middle Earth."
"I have? And who okayed that?" replied Khamûl.
"The Chancellor. Is that ok?" answered the boy, knwing he wouldn't dare contradict the Chancellor's word.
"Ok," replied Khamûl, snatching his timetable from the grasp of the young student, and opening the main doors, and walking quickly back towards Orrodel.
Five minutes later he arrived down the road from Orrodel.
"Zimra. Pack my clothes," he barked to the newly appointed head maid as he opened the door.
"Your clothes sir?" she replied, slightly puzzeled.
"Yes, my clothes. Is that to complicated for you? I fired the last incompetent maid. I still have time to do it again," he replied harshly, as Zimra hurried upstairs.
"Your clothes? Why, where are you going?" asked Lily, who who had just returned from the University.
"You wil be glad to hear I am leaving. I have been appointed Head Librairian at the University, where I have been supplied with living quaters."

[Rían]

Monday morning, 10-ish
University


RÃ*an and Eärniel chatted about their classes on their way to the University. They would be in only one class together - Art History. RÃ*an wondered if the King would be in any of her classes, and tried to find out in an indirect manner, asking Eärniel if she knew of anyone that was in her classes. Hearing that he was in Eärniel's Commerce class, she decided to expand her educational horizon in that direction. After all, she was only taking 2 classes, and there was plenty of time, as she was perfectly free to do what she wished with her time now. "I suppose I'll just go to the class a little early and talk to his aide and see if I can get in," she thought.

The two Elves arrived at the University and, after getting their schedules, parted ways. RÃ*an headed off to her Jewelry Making class. She entered the classroom; no one else was in it yet except one tall, dark-haired young lady - ah, the Chancellor's daughter! - who turned briefly to see who was entering and gave RÃ*an a very cool, slight nod before turning back to face the front of the room again. RÃ*an sat down behind her and a little off to one side so she could examine the young lady's hair.

[Rían]

On the way to Itazel and Danor's house
Monday morning


Tyaron and Alagos silently watched the water together for a few more moments, Tyaron's hand still resting on his friend's arm. Tyaron was the first to move. "Well, why don't we meet these friends of Eärniel now, and then we can head back out to town and find you your supplies. You'll feel better when you get those arrows fletched! You archers are strange people!" he finished with a grin, as this was a long-standing mock-argument between them.

"Yes, to a swordsman, I suppose finesse, artistry, skill and style are rather strange and unfamiliar traits," answered Alagos with a superior air as they headed towards the house, following Eärniel's instructions.

He reached out for the door knocker and gave a couple of quick taps.