Before the Knights had abandoned their Edoras Guild House as the Red Hammer converged upon Rohan...letters had been sent in reply to petitions received...sealed with the mark of the Mithril Knights, each letter found its way to the intended recipient....

To Hiril Arwen was sent

Hasten with all speed to the Tower of Orthanc and report to Thalos, the Captain of the Mithril Knights at this garrison. Travel carefully as the lands are not safe, especially in the land of Rohan and to the North. I, or one of my brethern, shall await thee there.

Varda keep thee safe

Lord Elbren

To Vanaladiel and Alandriel was sent

Make your way to Minas Tirith and see the Mithril Knight Guild House in that city. It is within the Fifth circle and can be found built into the mountain itself. Ask for Lady Elenath who shall instruct you further on your task. I shall meet you both as soon as I am able; which may require me coming to you or you traveling to me; Elenath will know.

Varda keep thee safe

Lord Elbren

Her petition of many months had been received and the answer now lay before her in the form of a parchment, sealed with the unmistakeable mark of the Mithril Knights. Not wanting to damage the beautiful wax, Alandriel slid a knife underneath it and opened the letter gingerly. Her eyes widened as she read the command.

She was summoned to Minas Tirith. A slight faintness took hold of her and she had to swallow hard to turn the feeling away. Of all places in Middle Earth'" she would have to go to Minas Tirith! Stunned, she let the letter drop onto the heavy wooden table that stood in the centre of the ancient hut in the Old Forest where she had hidden away for so many years. This she had not expected.

Slowly she stood and started pacing the room. Fate, it seemed, had yet another trial in store for her, a trial of a very different kind than she had anticipated. Yes, she was ready to take up the challenge and try her best at proving worthy to become a member of the Mithril Knights Guild. But would she be ready to face the White City again after having left it totally heartbroken nine years ago? She could not help herself, and quietly a bitter 'sweet smile emerged at the irony of it all.

She slept fitfully that night and her dreams were haunted with images from her past. Alandriel was glad when the new light finally chased away the darkness and she took to tidying up her home. She needed the temporary distraction to clear her head. Some hours later she was ready: everything that needed storing away until her return had been taken care of, her travel pack was ready and she had finally made up her mind. She would travel to the capital of Gondor and face whatever would be thrown in her path.

Casting a long, last look around, she finally turned heel and walked out of the door. The sunlight was filtering gently through the great trees surrounding the cabin, casting a soft glow that touched her spirit and lightened her mood. Taking a deep breath, she vowed not to allow the past to overshadow her thoughts and instead to face the future head on. After all, the trip would take weeks and she had, at one time, loved nothing better than travelling.

Cheerful once more she called out for her faithful friend Ethalon, a free-spirited dark-brown stallion, who would always roam freely close by rather than being tied up or stabled. They made a good pair, both loving the wild and the sense of freedom that was found there. She had been a ranger for many years before seeking refuge here and now it seemed that this kind of life that she had once so cherished would take on a new and deeper meaning. Alandriel fastened her light saddle and a small travelling bag and the action was greeted with a content snort of the horse. 'Oh yes, I know. You too are glad to be on the road again," she whispered into his sensitive ears as he nuzzled her affectionately. 'It's about time we leave these woods and get out into the world again."

Light-footedly she mounted, readjusted her elven cloak and checked one last time that her daggers, bow and quiver full of arrows were comfortably in place. A quiet command to Ethalon was all that was needed for them to start on a long journey once more. She smiled to herself: 'Yes, it felt good. It felt right."

***

Long days passed uneventfully as they travelled near the Old South Road towards Rohan. Getting ever closer to the home of her early years stirred many memories but she stayed true to her silent vow and did not let them distract her. She passed the city of Edoras at a good distance, using secret mountain paths she had come to know during her years with the rangers, deeming them safer than travelling in the open. She never looked back on the place of her childhood. Although she had found shelter there in the folds of a gentle family that had raised her, she had never truly belonged. She knew it and her adopted family had recognized the inevitability of it. Their farewells had been said many years ago.

On and on her travels went, following the line of the White Mountains until, off in the distance, she could make out the island of Cair Andros and, to the west, the looming Mountains of Shadow " Mordor. The thought of being so close to that cursed place made her shiver. She turned south in direction of her destination but stopped short a few of hours ride outside the city and made camp. This was her last chance to turn back, she knew. Once she stepped through the Great Gates there would only be one way, the way forward.

The tower of Ecthelion shimmered in the moonlight, seemingly mocking her with its splendour, the glorious standard of the White Tree laughing at her weak-heartedness. Ethalon sensed her apprehension and stayed close through the night instead of taking to his customary roaming.

At the first light of the new dawn she rose and made ready. A steady trot soon brought her before Great Gates. This was as far as she would take her steed. She knew how much he hated to be stabled and so she took off the light saddle, her travel bag, quiver and bow and slung them over her shoulder. 'I will be safe, my friend and we shall soon travel again, I am sure'. Ethalon gave her a soft snort before turning away and trotting off.

Greeting the guards she informed them that her presence had been requested by the Mithril Knights and she was soon allowed to pass. Walking slowly and casting curious glances around, she noticed that most of the damage to the lower circle walls had been repaired since her last visit so many years ago. After many turns through ring after ring, gate after gate, climbing ever higher, she finally reached the fifth level, where, according to her summons, the Guild house would be found built into the very rock of Mount Mindolluin. Sure enough, her path ended in front of a heavy door embedded into the rock-face. Steadying herself and drawing in a deep breath, she knocked on the portal.

Vana sped away from the Lucky Fortune Inn upon her golden stallion as if the hounds of hell and mordor were after her, her heart gripped with the sorrow of the news of Thalas' death. Fleeing the wedding of her dear friends and the joyous occasion that no longer held any meaning for her. She rode aimlessly for days through the mountains and into the woods seeking a way to run from the pain that now held her in its dark hold. Weary and lost to the sorrow she clung to her only companion. The stallion carried her to the realm of her kin in Mirkwood. There she was placed in the house of healing till her strength returned. Though her physical needs were met her heart still burdened with its sorrow found no hope in the new days that followed. Soon days turned into weeks.

Sadness set heavy on the King as he watched daily to see any sign of her spirits rise. But the King felt helpless and responsible for the sorrow that ate at her heart, for he had called her away from the knight to marry another and then that failed because the Elven Prince ran from the bargain that was struck between Mirkwood and Lothlorien in the hopes of building the great elven realms again stronger then they had been since many had left for the Grey Havens and the ships for Valinor. So the King did something that he had been against in all his years raising the elven maiden.

Since she had long fought her station as the Princess of the Kingdom and had run from her role as the Lady of the Court, King Thranduil had often heard of her desire to be a warrior and fight the evil that now ripped at the core of Middle Earth and her many peoples. He called for his Scribe and dispatched a letter of importance to be delivered with haste. Time passed and soon an answer came that he dreaded but knew would be for the best.

Walking the gardens of King Thranduil palace, Vana strolls aimlessly lost in her pain and sorrow. Seeing no hope and feeling as if there were no way to rise above the sorrow. King Thranduil approaches her with a parchment in his hands.

"Vana... dear niece I must speak with thee." He started. "Come and walk with me please." Vana smiled but her eyes told him that she was really far away in her thoughts. He hoped that his news would bring her some hope or at least raise her spirits.

"I have pondered in my heart long about the events of the last year and see that you are not happy here. I too know that you have long hated being the Lady of the Realm and wish to fight along side the many warriors of Middle Earth to free it from the evil that eats at it daily." Vana stared at him with a look of question.

"What are you saying Uncle?" She tried to smile giving him some reassurance that she was listening.

"I have here a dispatch that you need to look at. I sent a dispatch of my own and this is the reply and it is for you." He handed her the parchment and she slowly unrolled it to read....

King Thranduil,

Per your request for admission into the Mithril Knights for Vanaladiel Greenleaf:

Your Highness we have looked over your request and have found that she would be a good candidate for our knights in training program. Please have her leave with haste. The dispatcher will escort her to the destination where she will meet up with her trainer.

To Vanaladiel, Lady of the Realm of Mirkwood

Make your way to Minas Tirith and see the Mithril Knight Guild House in that city. It is within the Fifth circle and can be found built into the mountain itself. Ask for Lady Elenath who shall instruct you further on your task. I shall meet you both as soon as I am able; which may require me coming to you or you traveling to me; Elenath will know.

Varda keep thee safe

Lord Elbren

Upon finishing the letter Vana turned to her Uncle with tears in her eyes.

"You mean I have your blessing to become a knight and warrior?" She smiled the first true smile since she had returned to the Greenwood.

"Yes dear and you must make haste the escort awaits thee! You must be off today so that you can make your appointed connections." His heart heavy at having to let her go again but knowing at least now she will have a goal to aim for that would give her something else to think on in place of her loss.

Vana dashed off to ready herself. She decided to wear green leggings, black leather boots and a travel tunic. After getting her cloak on she grabbed only a few things which she stuffed into her satchel then headed out to meet the escort. There her Uncle met her with several bags for her horse to carry, food and essentials for the trip south. King Thranduil handed her a special package and told her to open it once she was away and that it would always show where her heart lays, with her people. Kissing her Uncle Vana mounted her horse and turned to the south and rode away from the Palace and the great woods.

Riding hard the escort lead her south around the eastern edge of the great woods along the River Running and down towards the Brownlands. Stopping finally to make camp, Vana opened the small package that the King had handed her. There in her hand was a special silver brooch made in the likeness of the Tree of Life, crafted by the dwarves themselves. With such care its maker had taken the time to capture each minut detail clearly. They ate their meal then settled back for a rest. Vana settled into her bed roll, placing her arms and hands behind her head and stared up at the stars and the moon. Contemplating all that the King must have gone through to come to the decision to let her go and then to send off and request such training for her. She smiled at the thought of how hard it had to have been.

Before the sun rose in the sky Vana and her escort had eaten a bit of food and were on their horses riding hard again to make the journey in as few a days as possible. Finally clearing the woods they headed out across the Brownlands setting their road to stay east of the Dead Marshes and heading straight for the Ered Lithui or Ash Mountains. Then their road lead them to skirt around to the west of the mountains and follow the road south to the crossroads, then turn west to Minas Tirith. Riding hard and long they made the trip in 5 days. As they reigned the horses at the crossroads the escort told Vana that he would leave her here and go on to his final destination. So after one more night of rest the escort took his leave and Vana rode on to Minas Tirith to seek her trainer the Lady Elenath.

Vana rode up to the great gate of Minas Tirith and dismounted, she handed the parchment to the gate keeper who pointed her in the direction she needed to go in order to find the stables then where to seek the fifth circle and the Mithril Knights Guild house there. She walked her horse as she passed the people along the way to the stables, many smiled but most just looked at her to see where she was headed. Some kids started following along so after giving her horse over to the handlers and paying them, she spoke with the children who then offered to help her find her way up the many circles until they came to the great door of the guild house in the mountain side. There Vana found another standing before the gate to the guild house of the Mithril Knights just as the other was knocking upon the great door.......Vana walked up to her and smiled.

"Greetings friend. I see you are seeking entrance into the guild house as well. May I introduce myself? I am Vanaladiel and I have been summoned here to meet the Lady Elenath!" So Vana and Alandriel met there at the main gate. Together they waited for the knock to be answered..............Vana knowing she was about to step into a new life but ready to face it one challenge at a time and Alandriel breathing deeply to steady her nerves, ready to do the same.

The Guild House door opened to reveal a cloaked Knight, who looked enquiringly at the two women. The petitioners gave their names, and the Knight nodded, smiling. "Welcome. The Lady Elenath is expecting you. Come with me, please."

They followed the Knight down the hallways, until he stopped at a great carved door. "Wait here, please." He stepped through the door, but opened it again just a minute later. At his gesture, the two women entered, and found themselves in a large library. There was a fire burning at the other end of the room, and standing next to it was a tall, dark-haired elf.

"Hail and well met," she said, smiling and gesturing them forward. "I am Lady Elenath. It is an honor to welcome you both here. You must be weary from your long journeys, so our discussions will wait until you have rested. Feathan here will show you to your rooms, and you can rest for the night. If you need anything, let him know, and we will do our best to provide it. In the morning, you will join me for breakfast, and then we will discuss our task." She smiled again. "Rest as well as you may, and do not trouble yourself about the morrow."

-----------------

When the two new petitioners had gone, Elenath stood for a while staring into the fire. Something was troubling her, but she couldn't quite put her finger on it. Perhaps it was only the prospect of travelling to the Sea again... never an easy task. Or perhaps she was simply nervous because this was her first time in charge of training Knights. Their mission was simple, she knew the Knights in Training would do well... She smiled as she remembered the half eager, half nervous look on their faces. It wasn't that long since she had presented herself for Training, and she remembered that feeling well. Shaking her head, she turned away from the fire. She should take her own advice: rest, and stop fretting. There was no reason to worry. Elenath sighed, sat down in the chair nearby, and picked up her book again.

The Knight Feathan, led the ladies down the hall of the guild house to their rooms. Vana entered into hers and looked about her. She closed the door then dropped her satchel upon the bed. It was a simple room with not too many furnishings but enough to suit the purpose. The room was lit by a lantern and sunlight that came through a window on the one wall that faced north though the sun was setting and it was dim. She smiled to know she had arrived and so far things looked good to her. She liked the Lady Elenath. Her first impression was that she was a very honorable woman, very strong and stout of heart. These were good qualities Vana knew well.

She stretched, her arms and legs tired from the rapid journey to get to Minas Tirith. Vana had heard tales of this place but had never been this far south of the woods. The city seemed almost like a dream to her. The people were of many races and ages yet they also seemed friendly enough. Surely they were used to strangers coming here to join up with the Mithril Knights.

Vana walked over to the window and peered out, down to the street where lights were now lit to show the way about the city. Then she cast her eyes north where she knew Mirkwood lay and the King who had graciously sent her.

Turning away from the window she walked over to the bed thinking about the training she was about to begin. Moving the satchel off the bed she laid down and before she knew it she was deep in a restful sleep. Her body weary from the long journey and the excitement of what she was to face yet in the days and weeks to come.

"Greetings friend. I see you are seeking entrance into the guild house as well. May I introduce myself?

Alandriel had been so focused on her own thoughts that she had not heard the stranger approach. As she turned to face the newcomer who had so graciously presented herself, she took in the tall, slender figure of a blonde half-elf whose green eyes were alight with good humoured friendliness.

Adressing the lady and inclining her head politely she returned the introduction:

'Hail and well met, Lady Vanaladiel. My name is Alandriel. It seems we meet here today with an identical purpose. I too have been summoned to meet with the Lady Elenath. Are you then also to commence your training into the Guild of the Mithril Knights?"

Vana confirmed this and shortly thereafter the door opened and they were greeted by a knight of the guild. After enquiring about their business and names, he led them into the keep. They followed him down a splendid hall lit with many lanterns and candles. He made them wait outside a massive wooden door, intricately decorated with many stunning carvings, while announcing their arrival to the person within. Alandriel put down her gear and waited for his return, exchanging a few glances with Vana. After a brief moment he came back and bid them enter.

Alandriel first took in a tall, silver clad elf woman standing gracefully next to a roaring fireplace. A small table and chair stood nearby. The woman was easily a good head taller than Alandriel but her soft grey eyes greeted them warmly and her smile was benevolent.

Lady Elenath introduced herself briefly as well as the knight that had shown them in and Alandriel gave both of them a polite nod after listening to her short discourse. They were to retire for the day and would meet again for breakfast. They said their farewells. On the way out she picked up her belongings again and followed Sir Feathan who led them to their rooms. Alandriel bid her new companion a good night and entered the chamber opposite the peredhel's at the knight's courteous invitation.

'Good night my lady' he said politely, 'I trust you will find your lodgings adequate."

'Thank you and I too', answered Alandriel quietly, 'bid you a good night."

It would not take much to satisfy her needs. The hut she had inhabited for so long was comfortable in a practical way but could never be called luxurious. Now she found herself in a skilfully vaulted chamber, carved out from the very mountain she had entered when stepping through the Guild House portal.

'Just like a cave' and I am the dwarf' she smiled silently to herself, remembering how tall both ladies and the knight had been in comparison to her. 'I had no idea such a place existed, here, in Minas Tirith."

She glanced around the room briefly as she set the saddle, quiver and bow next to the door. A bedstead clad in shiny blue and silver silk coverings stood at its centre. A carved table on top of which was placed a small lantern graced one side of the slightly curved wall, a beautifully crafted chair close by. The whole layout was simple yet elegant in an unpretentious way. There were no windows as such but looking up, she noticed a shaft that probably would provide light during the day hours. Interestingly the room had a fresh, crisp smell although being pleasantly temperate. She reasoned that there must be some ventilation openings as well, the warmth radiating from the walls themselves. There was no fireplace. Alandriel wondered just how deep inside the mountain she was or whether there was a large hearth in a room adjoining hers as she started to unpack her travel bag, spreading its contents onto the table. When her fingers touched the leather wrapping holding her brooch she paused for a moment.

Would she here find an answer to the strange transformation that had affected her jewel, the only link she had regarding her unknown heritage? Should she approach Lady Elenath with her question or would it be wiser to delay?

She shook her head in frustration. There was no telling. She would have to wait and see what her new mentor had in store for her and then make a decision accordingly. It was not that she did not trust her. The Mithril Knights probably had their own agenda and Alandriel, as a new trainee, would have to follow their directives first and foremost. Yet, the information might prove important. Giving a deep sigh she resolved to let the matter rest for now.

Turning around she saw a small wash stand complete with soft towels and soap and she sighed happily. Plunging her hands into the bowl she found the water warm. What luxury! It would feel good to get rid of the in ground dust and grime from the long road and so she proceeded to indulge herself, the fresh smell of the moss and flower scented soap starting to permeate the room.

Feeling refreshed yet relaxed after her wash she lowered the light of the lantern to a tiny flicker, slipped contentedly under the silken coverings, and was fast asleep within minutes.

*

Dawn came and the first soft light of the new day seeped into the chamber. Alandriel woke with a start, at first not recognizing her surroundings. But once the memories of the previous days flooded back into her consciousness she relaxed once more and sank back onto the soft bed. A feather bed! When was the last time she had slept in a feather bed? When she realized the answer to that question she quickly turned her mind away from that path and instead focussed on the here and now.

Lady Elenath would expect her shortly and she did not want to be late.

Quickly she dressed in a clean set of clothes similar to the ones she had worn during her travels and exited the room quietly. The brooch was pinned invisibly to the inside of her tunic as was her custom. In the hallway she was greeted again by Sir Feathan and he led her to a brightly lit room close to the study she had entered yesterday. On a large table a sumptuous breakfast was laid out and she gasped audibly at the sight of all the different delicacies present. The knight shot her an amused look but his austere countenance quickly returned and he bid her to take a seat.

'The Lady Elenath will shortly join you and Lady Vanaladiel is on her way too. Please help yourself to whatever your heart desires," he told her before exiting.

She looked longingly at some of the delicate fruit on the table. 'Wonder of wonders' she mused silently to herself, 'fresh apples and even pears in midwinter." No doubt she found herself once more in a place of royal influence. Nowhere else would this have been possible.

She was alone in the big room and although tempted by all the delicious fare she thought it polite to await her mentor and fellow trainee.

As the light of day eased into the window Vana opened her eyes, she stretched then arose to face the new day and all the challenges it would bring. She eagerly left the comfortable bed and found the wash basin. Placing her hands into the cool water she began to wash her face. The wonderful smell of the woodsy soap filled her nostrels and made her think of home in the Great Greenwoods. Taking the soft towel she dried her face then went to her satchel to retrieve her clothes for the day. Slipping quickly into the simple attire of leggings, tunic and boots she then braided her long blonde hair. Feeling ready to face the world again she opened her door to her room and found the knight Feathan once more waiting for her.

"Good Morning!" Vana smiled.

"I hope you rested well m'lady!" Feathan spoke softly.

"Oh yes, very nice thank you!"

He then escorted her back down the hallway to the room where he had left Alandriel, who was waiting for her.

"Good morning Alandriel!" Vana smiled and took her new friends hand. "Did you rest well? I know I sure did."

"The Lady Elenath will be with you shortly. Please feel free to help yourselves to something to eat!" Feathan broke in to say, then excused himself and left the two of them there admiring the room.

"Thank you Feathan!" they called back to him as he exited the room.

"Have you ever seen any place like this?" Vana said as she walked around the room and admired everything about the mountain carved room. "My uncles place is out of a mountain too but this is different, more regal or humble, I am not sure. But it is different." Her eyes were wide with the excitement of a child taken to a room full of toys for the first time.

Alandriel smiled at Vana's observations and comments. As Vana walked about the room she stopped to look closely at things like the vase on the big table and then she made her way over to the food. She picked up a roll and started to pull it apart and popping a piece into her mouth as she continued to look over the room. Finally Vana walked up to a banner hanging on the wall with the emblem of the Mithril Knights on it. She admired the detail and the special emblem with great interest. It was very nice indeed.

She touched the emblem with her fingers as she stood there in awe of it and the idea of becoming a Mithril Knight. She thought back to her uncle and the sacrifice he had made to let her come here. She got a lump in her throat and had to swallow back the tears before they ran. She sighed then turned from the banner and found a chair to sit in. Vana looked up at Alandriel.

"Arent you eating?" Vana stopped chewing. She swallowed the piece of roll in her mouth then stared. She hadnt thought that here she wasnt the Lady of the Realm. Suddenly she felt like she had forgotten her manners.

Dirk spent an extra day and night in the wilderness east of Nan Curunir. He found a little hollow ringed with stunted trees and settled in for a quiet day alone. The sun shone bright that day and the snow had melted on the south-facing slope. All that day, Dirk walked leisurely between the foothills of the Hithaeglir and the eaves of Fangorn, and thought about the state of his life.

In the morning he wondered about Leoba. He had last seen her at Minas Tirith, where they had planned to have an audience with the King and ask for leave to reside within the south of Gondor - despite both of their pasts. They should have known better than to think that they could settle down as both were touched with a bit of wanderlust - though Dirk suspected that Leoba's would be easier to cure. He missed her immensly. She was probably back at the Lucky Fortune by now, serving ale and singing for the patrons. He thought of her, in a simple frock, covered by an apron, covered with stains of wine and food. Her auburn tresses were most likely plaited. He sighed heavily and decided that once he gets the artifacts where they belonged, he would ride to the Lord Bard's drinking establishment looking for his love.

After his lunch, the thought about what had happened inside of himself over the last few days. So easily had he been swayed by the soothing voice. That part of him that he so badly wished to excise was still only just beneath the surface. It only took the slightest scratching by Saruman's spirit (or whatever it was, he thought) in order for it to begin to break the surface. He had not given in. But he was still haunted by his father's failings. He wondered whether he would ever be rid of that darker side of himself. He wondered if there would always be a danger of losing his soul and his body - a danger of walking the earth an undead slave: a Dark Lord's wraith with no will of his own. Thinking realistically, he decided that there will likely always be that danger, but that as he gained wisdom, he could push it deeper into his subconsciousness, never to surface again.

He was gladdened by the bright winter's day and his meditations. He always smiled when he thought of Leoba. And now he was optimistic about his future, as well. He would overcome his father's curse. In fact, he still beleived that he could vindicate the great Nœmen—rean King that was his father before Sauron the deceiver ever set his hooks into him.

He ate his small supper cheerfully and slept soundly in that hollow on the Westfold, wrapped in his astonishingly warm Mithril Cloak .

In the morning, Endl—m‘ woke him. The jet-black warhorse had been loose since the late afternoon two nights before upon the fields of his homeland and was now back, and apparently wished the attention of his travelling companion, Dirk. The young Knight awoke to the sound of hooves and neighing. When he cracked his eyelids enough to let in a bit of the morning's first light, he found horse running and tossing his mane like a colt in the open pasture.

"Had a bit of fun have you?"

As if on cue, a second set of hoofbeats thundered from the east. A stunningly beautiful grey mare galloped down into the hollow and stopped beside Endl—m‘, nuzzling his neck.

"What's this?" Dirk asked, as he rose and approached the two horses. Dirk surmised that she wasn't wild as she was shod and allowed him to reach his hand out and touch her head.

"Well aren't you beautiful, miss? I wonder what your name might be?"

The two great steeds whickered softly and spent every moment side-by-side as Dirk struck his camp and prepared to make his way to the Wizard's Vale. Once everything was packed, he mounted and began the short trip across the meadows of western Rohan to Isengard with their new companion in tow.

They were back on the road only an hour before they came upon a small contingent of Rohirrim soldiers riding back east towards Edoras.

"Hail and well met!" Dirk saluted and introduced himself to the men. They recognized his cloak, and then the Knight, and returned the salute. They had all ridden out together in Eomer's Žored at Helm's Deep.

"I recognize you, Sir," the lead rider started, "I saw you fight at Helm's Deep. You and your order. We are thankful for your efforts on behalf of Rohan."

Humbled to be singled out amongst his fellow Knights, Dirk replied, "As you know, the Mithril Knights are champions of truth in all things. It is for all of Eru's children that we fight."

"Misty! It is Misty!" exclaimed one of the others.

"You know this mare? My companion," Dirk reached down and slapped Endl—m‘'s flank, "found her yestereve roaming the plains alone."

"Yes, she was Halgenon's. Her name is Morning Mist, or Misty."

"Then she has a master. Where can I find him and return his horse?"

"Alas, Halgenon died at the edge of a Red Hammer axe. He was a captain in the Žored of the Westmark. But he died several days before the Mithril Knights arrived at Helm's Deep defending his home village. We heard that they attempted to steal the horses and take them north. But now most have been found wandering about the Mark and have been rounded up one-by-one."

Dirk bowed his head, "I am sorry to hear of his death. By your law, who does she belong to, then?"

"His wife died also, but he had two children that I think may have survived. I believe I saw them among the refugees at Helm's Deep. By law, all of his possesions would fall to his eldest son, a lad of maybe 12 years."

"Would you take her then, and see that she is returned to the boy? Also, I have the sneaking suspicion that she may be with foal. She is obviously in season and my stallion found her before I did."

"If that is true, then the foal would be yours. Our custom in such a matter dictates that the master of the Sire owns the offspring," said the soldier.

"Hmmm. Well, if so, it would surely be a fine and valuable horse. I would give this foal to the orphans of Halgenon as my gift. I would only ask that their caregiver send word to me that they recived the mare and whether or not she foals. I can be reached through the Mithril Knights, they'll be able to get correspondence to me."

"So be it. You are generous, sir. The son of Sablemane's son is a rich gift indeed. Long live the Mithril Knights."

"Long live Rohan!" Dirk returned, hoping it was the correct response.

They were able to separate the horses with some difficulty, and only after Dirk promised that they would seek out her and her foal after their duties were finished. Then the party of Rohirrim continued east and Dirk turned toward Isengard.

A few more hours of trotting along and they passed the ruined sign of the Hand of Saruman, now fallen and crumbling and overgrown with brown weeds poking through the snow. The acrid smell of the fires of battle still hung in the air; and Dirk passed several mounds that had been raised over the fallen enemy just before entering the ring of Isengard.

He was welcomed warmly by Thalos and Parador, who had apparently left Helm's Deep only moments after Dirk did; but since he lingered on the plains, she had arrived before him. As had Mirdain and Idril, but they had already traveled on towards Lothlorien.

He was shown inside and offered food or drink. He accepted a goblet of fine red wine and sat at a table with Thalos and Parador, who related all that they knew of the sickle room and the other recent discoveries at Orthanc. Dirk then brought forth the broken Spear of Orom‘. Thalos gingerly removed the weapon from its shroud and inspected it.

"Lord Elbren has asked the you repair the Spear as best you can and place it in the Sickle's place until we can return it to its place in the Guilhouse by the Sea. Nienor-Niniel still carries the Sickle. I think that there is some connection to her that both she and Lord Elbren wanted learn more about."

Thalos bowed his head, "I will do what I can. I would wish to retain the original wood of the Spear's shaft and I will try not to mar it any further. But I am afraid I cannot make it as beautiful as it once was."

They continued to talk for some time when Dirk's mentor lady-Knight gasped.

"Oh my, I almost forgot, I was given this to deliver to you."

She produce from her tunic a letter bearing the seal of the Guilmaster.

Sir Dirk,

I am sorry that I did not get this news to you earlier, and I hope that Lady Parador finds you before you leave Orthanc for Erebor. Before the battles with the Red Hammer began, I sent out an invitation for an elf-woman named Hiril Arwen Sol, to come to Orthanc and seek out Thalos. She was then to begin training as a knight initiate. I recieved her reply and she is on her way. When she arrives, Sir Dirk, I ask that you become her mentor Knight and take her with you as you complete your task to Erebor. May Varda light your way.

Namarie,

Lord Elbren Galadrim

Dirk re-read the letter a second time in disbelief.

"Surely I am not ready to mentor anyone yet?" he asked of Parador, who only short weeks before saw Dirk initiated as a Knight.

"You are ready, Dirk. Trust yourself. You only need to show your initiate how you live the Oath of the Mithril Knights in everything you do. You lived for truth and justice before you were initiated, and you do so now. You have every tool you need to lead Hiril Arwen Sol towards Knighthood."

Dirk harkened back to his thoughts the day before. Perhaps Parador was right. Maybe wisdom was seeping into Dirk, despite his rash ways. Regardless of his initial reaction, he would do his best for the new knight-to-be. For her sake and that of the Mithril Knights, as well as for his own.

"I will try, Lady Parador, I will do everything I can."

"Just be yourself and trust your instincts, Sir Dirk," Parador replied, ensuring to use his title in hopes of lifting the young man's confidence.

After that, they said their good-nights and Dirk was shown to a tent on the grounds of Isengard amongst the garrison of Gondor that still stood guard after the battle. He felt uneasy in the obsidian Tower, and although he didn't voice this concern to Thalos, he was thankful when he was told that accomodations were short within the Tower and was asked if it would be acceptable if he be given a tent among the men of Gondor. He accepted, citing that he too was a soldier and that it would be an honor to rest with the valiant men-at-arms of King Aragorn.

The tent was well-appointed, with a small chest and a fur-covered pallet. There was also a comfortable wooden chair and a small folding table. Before he lay down, he re-read the letter and wondered how soon his charge would arrive, he was anxious to return north and accomplish his task.

When he lay down, he found that it was comfortable enough on the pallet and soon drifted off to sleep, once again thinking of his beloved Leoba, the beautiful maid of Ithilien...

'Must you leave so soon, my daughter?" the serene voice asked from behind her as Arwen placed the last of her supplies into her traveling pack. Instead of answering Arwen secured the straps on her scabbard then removed her sword and tested it's edge with her thumb. Mentally assuring herself of it's condition she ran her slender fingers along the mysterious markings, their meaning long-forgotten, that ran in a line down the flat of the blade. Sighing she slid the sword firmly in place trying not to think of the unknown man who had bequeathed it to her along with the Mortal part of her blood.

'Yes, mother. I must away from here for there is much unrest in the world still 'and also in me." Arwen turned to face the querying eyes of her mother. TheseŠra was young yet; having been born in the year 1690 of the Second Age she was only a few years older than her cousin Elrond of Rivendell. This relationship, though distant, held strong, for though her own father was unknown, Arwen knew she could trace her maternal roots far back as Luthien of Doriath.

However, time was beginning to take its toll on her mother and Arwen knew that like her ancestors before her, TheseŠra would soon travel to the Undying lands but like every mother since time immortal, she feared for her daughter.

Unbidden, TheseŠra walked up to her only daughter, the child of her heart and acknowledged the longing in those deep-green eyes. Silently, and with surprising strength, she made Arwen sit down on the soft pallet and began combing her fingers through her daughter's lustrous black hair. Arwen felt tears start in her eyes at the familiar feeling of her mother's hands gently weaving two slender braids at her temples.

Though she felt sorrow at this parting, Arwen knew she must do what her heart bid. And she fervently hoped that this would not be their final leave-taking. With tears in both their eyes, the two women embraced. 'Nam‡ri‘, naneth' till we meet again." Arwen quietly picked up her pack and walked out of room without looking back.

Her silent footsteps picked up speed as she ran to the edge of the forests of Lorien, her soft leather boots making nary a sound as she traversed the leaf-strewn grounds. The muted greens of her clothing blended in with the forest as she ran and she calculated if she traveled swiftly, she knew could make it to Orthanc in less than two days. Stopping at the edge of the woods, she retrieved the missive from a pouch on her belt, scanning its familiar words yet again to see if she could glean any idea as to what it all meant:

To Arwen Sol, Daughter of the House of Elw‘.

It has come to my attention that you seek a warriors training. The Mithril Knights may help you find what you seek. Make your way to Orthanc and seek Thalos, he will guide you to Sir. Dirk of Esgaroth who shall mentor you in our ways, put your faith in him for it shan't be misplaced. Until we meet then, may Varda light your way.

Lord Elbren

She'd received the message from the Master of the Mithril Knights just a sennight ago, it seemed ages ago now, and had sent a reply immediately in acceptance. Though she had never met Lord Elbren himself, she had heard many tales of the valor of the Mithril Knights and knew she would have nothing to fear in their company.

The first rays of the sun had just begun to shine from below the horizon when Arwen reached Orthanc. She had traveled on foot from Lorien and through Fangorn with nary a stop and she knew her body would soon need rest. Walking unobtrusively among the tents where the Gondorians had made camp she asked a soldier if he could tell her where she might find Thalos and was relieved when he pointed to a small tent nestled in among the others.

Thanking the soldier with a nod she wove her way through the growing crowd to the appropriate place. Not knowing whether she should call out or just go in, Arwen decided on the cautious option. Despite her weariness she managed to sit down gracefully enough right outside the tent, putting her travel pack in her lap she drew her knees up and rested her head on her crossed arms.

Lost in her own thoughts and wondering about the inhabitants of yon tent Arwen didn't realize she'd fallen asleep until she was startled awake by a firm hand placed on her head'

Dirk gently placed his hand on the sleeping Peredhil's head.

"Lady Arwen? Are you Hiril Arwen?"

The half-elf maiden awoke instantly and turned her verdant eyes to the man standing over her.

"I am," she stood, brushing herself off, "I was sent to look for Thalos, whom you certainly are not, unless Dwarves grow taller these days. Is he not the one in the tent?"

"No, the tent was my abode for the night. Thalos is a permanent fixture here and resides in the Tower proper."

She remained calm, though perplexed and perturbed to have been misdirected. Dirk drew his Mithril Cloak about him, the insignia on the breast caught Arwen's eye.

"If you are a Mithril Knight and not a 'permanent fixture', then may I assume that you are Sir Dirk, of Esgaroth in the North?"

Immediately there was a connection. Her ability to relax in such an unfamiliar surrounding and a tense situation matched Dirk's. He smiled. "I am. Shall we go to the Tower and meet the other Knights?"

It was mid-morning, and Dirk had slept later than he wanted. He would have continued sleeping, except for his stomach. His first order of business once inside the tower would be to send for Thalos and Parador and invite them to sit with him at breakfast. Once they had eaten together, Dirk would bid the dwarf and his own mentor, Parador, good-bye and take his Knight in Training north toward the land of his childhood.

Dirk was lost in thoughts of their route and provisions and the like, when Arwen ended his reverie.

"Sir Dirk, forgive me for prying, but you do not look like the other north-men I have encountered before. Is your blood only that from Dale or does your lineage come from other peoples as well?"

"It's perfectly alright," Dirk smiled again, she was bold, a trait he liked, "I am of Nœmen—rean blood. My father was of the house of Ar-Pharazon, and my mother Dœnedain from Arnor. I was adopted by a common but proud family in Laketown after my mother died in childbirth. Thus, I call Esgaroth my home."

"And your father?" Arwen continued the questioning.

"He was...lost... to us.... before the War. I was sent to Laketown by Lord Elrond's council in order that I may escape the wandering, insecure life of the Rangers of the North, of whom my mother was one. However, I was... different from my brothers and could not be satisfied to stay in Laketown and keep my foster-father's inn. As a soon as I could walk, I got lost. I was always wandering off as a child, I spent more time among the elves of Greenwood, to whom we delivered wine, than I did in my own town. Naturally, as soon as I was old enough, I took to the road and looked to make my own fortune."

They had reached the steps of Orthanc none too soon. Dirk could speak as well as anyone, but avoiding the question of his heritage was going to be difficult enough on this trip.

Thalos met them on the steps and when Dirk made his intensions known, the dwarf sent someone to seek out Parador and to have the fires lit in the kitchen.

Soon the four of them were sitting and eating sausages, eggs, fruit and cheese at a grand table in the dining hall. After initial salutations and an explanation of the Mithril Knight's presence in Saruman's former home, an abreviated version of the battles of the last week was given to Arwen, as well as the plans for her and Dirk's journey to Erebor to return the shards of the Arkenstone.

When the meal was done, they sat for a few moments and relaxed. Thalos produced a pipe and sent smoke rings dancing about the chandelier.

"Well Arwen, I have told you a little about myself. Come, tell me of your home and family." Dirk leaned back in his hard, black, but surprisingly comfortable chair, satisfied by the hardy meal, and awaited Lady Arwen Sol's tale.

Elenath entered the room, and the two women immediately turned toward her, falling silent. "Good morning Alandriel, Vanaladiel," Elenath said, smiling and nodding at both of them. "Please, have a seat with me, and we can eat as we talk." The three sat down at the long table, and Elenath began buttering some bread as she spoke.

"The task that Lord Elbren has assigned us is this. A shipment of dwarven arms is being sent from Erebor to the Guild House in Dol Amroth. We are to accompany this shipment on the last leg of its journey, from here in Minas Tirith to its destination." Elenath paused and smiled at the two knights-in-training, who were watching her attentively. "It should not be a hard journey, or a difficult mission. We will leave first thing tomorrow: that will give you a chance to rest today, and to explore the city if you wish. I will be seeing to our preparations, but if you need to speak with me at any time, the Knights here will help you find me." Elenath didn't ask the trainees about themselves yet: there would be plenty of time on the road ahead, and she wanted to feel out who these women were before she started asking questions. They chatted a bit as they ate, but Elenath could tell that they didn't quite feel comfortable with her yet. She studied them, remembering what little Lord Elbren had told her about them. The elf from Mirkwood, Vanaladiel, seemed eager and excited to be there. From what Elbren had told Elenath of Thrandiul's letter to him, Vanaladiel had been waiting for this a long time. The other, however... there was a curious tension there. Alandriel certainly wished to be trained as a Knight, but there was something making her uneasy. Perhaps it would be best to deal with that at the beginning.

"Alandriel, please forgive me if I am speaking out of turn, but I feel that there is something troubling you. Am I correct? And if so, is there anything I can do to help?" Alandriel hesitated, and glanced at Vanaladiel. Elenath continued, "I would prefer that you spoke to both of us, since we will all need to grow in our understanding of each other. But if you feel it should be kept private, I would understand."

"As would I," Vanaladiel said quickly. "I've finished my breakfast - would you prefer that I go?"

Alandriel was not alone in the room for long. Vanaladiel soon entered and the ranger greeted her with a soft spoken: 'A good morn to you, lady'. Her eyes followed the elf's turn of the room as she excitedly went from one decorative object to another, all the while admiring openly the exhibited pieces and talking merrily, amongst other things, about her uncle's place. At this very moment, Alandriel envied her. The elf's mannerism was one of secure happiness, a light spiritedness radiating from her cheerful countenance. She seemed'.carefree; a feeling, a way of being that had eluded Alandriel for many years. As the elf touched the Mithril Knight emblem adoringly, a shadow seemed to mar her exuberance momentarily. However, she quickly gained control over her feelings and brushed them aside as she took a seat opposite the ranger.

Noting that the ranger had not taken any food, she blushed slightly and said 'Aren't' you eating?"

Alandriel smiled at her and was grateful that Lady Elenath's entrance stopped short any reply she would have had to make in order not to be thought impolite. 'For Eru's sake, lighten up' she chastised herself silently, " After all, this is the moment you have been seeking for so long."

Both women greeted their mentor and turned their full attention to her speech.

A trip to Belfalas, to the port city of Dol Amroth was planned for them with the mission to accompany a shipment of dwarven arms. Dwarfen arms! Alandriel's hand unwittingly fingered the brooch hidden inside her tunic. They would leave tomorrow. So soon. Good! She would be happy to leave this place of too many memories. Yet there was still one issue she would have to address before she was free to go.

Finally becoming aware of her unconscious stroking, she quickly dropped her hand and continued to chew on her delicious apple intently as she mulled over the information. It sounded easy, too easy in fact. She wrinkled her forehead slightly as she thought of what the implications could be behind such a transport and why a reinforced escort was deemed necessary by the Guildmaster.

Her brooding and uneasiness caught the attention of her mentor:

"Alandriel, please forgive me if I am speaking out of turn, but I feel that there is something troubling you. Am I correct? And if so, is there anything I can do to help?" Alandriel hesitated, and glanced at Vanaladiel. Elenath continued, "I would prefer that you spoke to both of us, since we will all need to grow in our understanding of each other. But if you feel it should be kept private, I would understand."

"As would I," Vanaladiel said quickly. "I've finished my breakfast - would you prefer that I go?"

Alandriel still hesitated. Why was it so difficult for her to trust? After all, she wanted to join the Mithril Knights because she wanted to feel part of something greater again, like she once had. The Guild had trusted and invited her, without knowing much of her, allowed her a chance to prove herself. Was it not now her turn to reciprocate just that trust? 'You have lived in the woods secluded for too long. Remember the kind of life you once had. Here and now you have the opportunity. Are you really going to let that slip?" The debate raged on silently inside her head for what seemed endless minutes but were only a few seconds in reality.

Sighing and relaxing her tensed shoulders she looked at Vana: 'No. Do not go. Lady Elenath is right. We all need to have a better understanding of one another and this can only be achieved by being open, by trusting one another. Forgive me for hesitating. I did not mean to slight you."

Vana nodded and sat back comfortably as did Lady Elenath and both ladies turned their attention to the ranger.

'There is very little I know of my heritage', the fiery haired woman began her narrative, still hesitant at first but soon her words flowed freely. 'Kind people from Edoras took me in as a foundling when I was but a babe and raised me. When I was barely old enough, a small company of rangers took me into their training and we travelled far through many lands. During those years my paths crossed with Aragorn Elassar but I did not know then his true identity'.we became acquainted' friends."

Quickly she cast her eyes down, not wanting to let the women see her pain at those memories. She drew a deep, steadying breath and continued, her eyes locking with those of Lady Elenath:

'Three years before the War of the Ring, I left the rangers to expand my knowledge under the tutelage of an old wise woman in the Old Forest, where I studied herb-lore and the arts of healing. It became my home, if I ever had one. My studies were interrupted by an invitation to attend the crowning and wedding of our King and it being a royal summons I travelled to this city and renewed my vows of allegiance as a ranger. However, a few weeks later I privately begged the King to release me from my pledge as I did no longer feel worthy or strong enough to lead this kind of life. We had a long discussion at the end of which he acceded to an indefinite leave of absence but he would not revoke my oath."

Alandriel paused for a moment to judge her audiences reaction before adding: 'You see, Lady Elenath, I am not entirely sure if I am free to become a member of your guild as I am still pledged into the service of the King. Undoubtedly there are connections between the Mithril Knights and the House of Elassar but I am not certain of their exact nature and extent. However, before you answer me on this point, let me finish my tale as there is yet more that you need to know."

By now the two ladies were deep in thought, trying to take in the information presented so far. Alandriel looked at both women intently for a moment before her fingers reached inside her tunic and opened the clasp of the hidden jewel. She rose from her chair and gently set it on the table before her.

Both ladies stood and approached to have a closer look. The jewel was a silver brooch, depicting a central snail on a bed of leaves. The workmanship was so detailed and exquisite, that the shell almost looked real. It glittered in the soft light, just as if an actual mollusc had been sprayed by a dawn shower. Each tiny groove of every curl of the shell came to life through different grades of polish and carefully cut grooves. Each leave vein was meticulously traced, the rims gracefully interweaving. It was a stunning jewel. The lack of stones or any other fancy adornment, nowadays so cherished by wealthy folk, did not diminish its beauty. On the contrary, they would have ruined the simple yet truly heartfelt design.

'The only connection to my past is this small brooch' Alandriel said in a hushed voice, " which I have carried all these years hidden from prying eyes, as was deemed necessary by my foster mother. Something strange has happened to it a while ago. The brooch glows. At first I thought it a trick of my mind. But now I am sure that it is indeed so. The brooch emanates a soft light that has been steadily growing brighter, especially during my trip here while in the environs of Helms Deep. It also turned quite warm, a strange occurrence that faded upon my approach to Minas Tirith but, interestingly, since this morning, it does feel warmer than usual yet again.

There is only one other person that knows of this brooch " Lord Erinhue. Knowing that he is a well-known and trustworthy figure with high connections, I approached him during a bard wedding and showed him the pin, asking for his opinion and help. However, the wedding was interrupted in a most dramatic way, the Inn was destroyed by some form of magic and I lost sight of him. He may have informed the Guild about the jewel and hence you might have heard of it."

Lady Elenath sought Alandriel's questioning eyes and the ranger nodded solemnly:

'See for yourself, my lady. You may touch it if you so wish. I have never before seen any ornament quite like it. The workmanship seems to be of dwarven origin and quite ancient at that. Maybe you can shed some light on where any connections might lie and what it all means'.

Vanaladiel looked up as the Lady Elenath came into the room and quickly she stood to her feet. Both Alandriel and Vana were anxious to hear what their mentor would say.

Being invited to join the Lady Elenath at breakfast and to speak of their task, both followed obediently and sat where she instructed them to.

"The task that Lord Elbren has assigned us is this. A shipment of dwarven arms is being sent from Erebor to the Guild House in Dol Amroth. We are to accompany this shipment on the last leg of its journey, from here in Minas Tirith to its destination." She continued on, "It should not be a hard journey, or a difficult mission. We will leave first thing tomorrow: that will give you a chance to rest today, and to explore the city if you wish. I will be seeing to our preparations, but if you need to speak with me at any time, the Knights here will help you find me."

As the Lady Elenath spoke Vana's thoughts started to dance about her head. A shipment of dwarven arms to Dol Amroth! This was not an adventurous task at first sight but what is it that needs such close attention? Could it be there is something of value to this shipment that others may try to get ahold of or were there things they were not being privy too?

Giving her full attention back to the Lady Elenath, Vana listened willing to do whatever was asked of her. Excitement still dancing within her veins.

"Alandriel, please forgive me if I am speaking out of turn, but I feel that there is something troubling you. Am I correct? And if so, is there anything I can do to help?" Alandriel hesitated, and glanced at Vanaladiel. Elenath continued, "I would prefer that you spoke to both of us, since we will all need to grow in our understanding of each other. But if you feel it should be kept private, I would understand."

"As would I," Vanaladiel said quickly. "I've finished my breakfast - would you prefer that I go?"

As Alandriel looked up at Vana she spoke, 'No. Do not go. Lady Elenath is right. We all need to have a better understanding of one another and this can only be achieved by being open, by trusting one another. Forgive me for hesitating. I did not mean to slight you."

Vana smiled at Alandriel. For she was not put back by her hesitation. Vana understood sometimes when you dont know someone yet you are slow to reveal certain things about yourself. She knew full well that they did not understand all about her but would in time, if need be. She didnt feel like revealing the pain in her own heart for she was trying to forget it as much as she could for the moment and didnt want it to interfer with her mission to become a Mithril Knight.

Vana and the Lady Elenath listened intently as Alandriel told of what she knew about herself, then she removed an object from under her cloak and placed a brooch upon the table for them to see. Both the Lady Elenath and Vana stood to look closer at the beautifully made brooch as Alandriel went on to tell of her history and then the brooch and how it had changed of late.

Though very curious about this, Vana remained quiet and patiently let Alandriel continue with what she was saying. Then looking over to observe the Lady Elenath's face, who seemed to have heard of the brooch or at least she didnt let on that she hadnt.

This brooch did seem to be eminating some sort of power or energy even as it lay there on the cold hard table. Being curious like she was, Vana would love to know more about this brooch but would not touch it. Sometimes it is wise not to get too involved with such magical things for they tend to change ones life, as the ring did poor Frodo's and her cousin Legolas' years before.

Vana remained intent on listening to Alandriel's tale.

On their walk to the tower, Arwen was surprised to hear herself asking Sir. Dirk of his bloodlines. Though she often spoke her mind when at LoriŽn or at Rivendell, she'd tried to suppress that trait when in the company of strangers. Listening to his accounting though, of having lost his birth parents, she felt a connection with him and so in understanding she held her tongue though her mind wanted to know more about his mysterious sire.

We are alike, you and I she thought to herself. She'd often wondered what her own father was like, but all she knew of him was that he had been of Rohirric descent and thus, with sorrow she knew he could be long dead. Also, she well understood her new mentor's wanderlust for it burned in her own blood now and again.

Hiking up the steps of Orthanc, they were greeted by a dwarf who greeted Sir Dirk in friendship. Arwen assumed that this was Thalos whom Master Elbren, in his missive, had sent her to meet. He nodded at her curtly but said not a word in greeting and instead began giving out orders for breakfast to be prepared. His informality pleased her, and Arwen grinned wryly: sometimes the Elves held too much on ceremony so she appreciated the familiarity the dwarf had dealt her.

Arwen also had the pleasure of meeting Lady Parador, whom she greeted reservedly; as yet unsure of how to behave toward her mentor's mentor so to speak. But to her surprise, after an encouraging handshake, the lady winked at her and assured her that Dirk knew what he was about and not to worry about being remiss in her training. Arwen couldn't help but laugh out loud, and now at ease she settled with the three of them for a welcome meal.

As they ate, they also spoke, and listening intently, Arwen gathered the information of the recent activities of the Mithril Knights and Sir Dirk's plan for their journey to Erebor. Though some facts confused her a little, she did not let it show on her face--- she knew that everything would all fall into place once they were on their way.

As the remains of their meals were cleared away, the four relaxed and Thalos began to smoke on his pipe and Arwen let the somewhat familiar smell of galena pipe-weed wash over her. The weariness of the previous nights was beginning to set in and stifling a yawn, Arwen hoped she wouldn't topple over and shame herself before her new companions. However, an innocent question put forth by Sir. Dirk managed to bring her back to attention:

"" tell me of your home and family." Looking at them warily, Arwen noted that their faces showed only satisfaction and interest and not the censure she was sometimes forced to endure.

When she was long in answering, Sir. Dirk's astutely picked up on her hesitation and guardedness. As he himself had cause to avoid such conversations he knew that his new student may as well and did not begrudge her that. Leaning forward he gazed at her intently, telling her without words that she didn't have to say a word if she didn't want to.

Arwen sighed and wished that the telling were unavoidable, but she knew she must tell something of herself so that they might trust her. So with a slight, almost imperceptible nod to reassure Sir. Dirk, she began her tale --- or at least, the essentials of it.

'As you must know, I am a daughter of the House of Elw‘--- but this is through the female descendants of my line. My mother is TheseŠra, daughter of Luth‘, daughter of Dieren, daughter of Luthien, daughter of Melian the Maiar and King Thingol." Arwen smiled ironically 'Though the blood has thinned, our loyalties remain constant. My mother, like her mother and grandmother before her, is yet unwed' and the identity of my father shall remain unknown for my parents met and parted in a long ago time and place. I was born in LothloriŽn, in the year 2510 of the Third Age and was named for Arwen Und—miel, who dwelt in the Golden Wood that time. Though my mother is content to remain at Caras Galadon, I have travelled between there and Rivendell and even in the Woodland Realm from time to time."

With some regret, Arwen also admitted that though she had been aware of the spreading darkness in the world, she had done naught to aid the cause of the good, 'And for that I am truly sorry--- but it is never too late, and I think I am finally ready to learn what must be done."

The finality and determinism in her words pleased Dirk, for he knew that Arwen would work hard to complete her training and he hoped that his own knowledge would aid her in her cause.

Her three companions made no reply to the telling of her brief history but considered her carefully--- afeared, she wondered if perhaps she should have stayed in the Golden Wood as her mother had asked.

No... you know you never would have been content there. she answered her own question and accepted the answer with silent misgivings. She had told them nothing of her father for truly she knew nothing though she had searched long and hard through her long years, she had been unable to find any trace of the man who's blood flowed through her veins.

As the silence wore on, Dirk watched the impassive expression come over his new apprentice's face. He approved that she was able to keep her feelings to herself in a strange situation, although he could tell from the slight stiffening of her body that she was wary and prepared for flight.

He thought to himself, Knowing when to run and when to stay and fight is an important lesson, and I think perhaps you have learnt that already ... When she looked over at him with uncertainty in her eyes, but pride in every line of her slender body he grinned wryly and nodded.

At the small sign of approval, Arwen managed to relax a little and told herself to ignore the small surge of joy that was even now warming her. Though she hated to admit it, she knew that as a child and even now she desperately sought male approval. Perhaps in the recesses of her mind she hoped it would compensate for never knowing her father.

Parador watched Arwen as well, noting her pride and silent strenght. Catching Dirk's eyes she nodded imperceptibly and told him without words perhaps this girl shall prove worthy of us after all, my friend--- still she knew that only time would prove that true or false.

Arwen watched the silent exchanges going on before her and had to refrain from rolling her eyes heavenwards. She felt as if she were being put through some sort of test and she didn't like it--- still, whatever it stood for, she hoped she passed.

Thalos drew long upon his pipe then blew out a series of neat, circular smoke rings.

"Well, lass," he said, looking her in the eye, "you've found y'self a good spot to call yer own with our Order." The Dwarf then pointed his pipe at Dirk, "Ye take good care of her, lad. I'll take ye both down to our armoury and mayhap she can find some things that might come in use on yer journey. If yer takin' her all the way to Erebor, we'll need to get ya fully supplied."

The Dwarf stood up then and banged his pipe on the table, dumping the ashes onto his plate, as Parador looked on with disapproval.

"Aw, now don't go lecturin me again about the pipe, Missie," Thalos defended himself.

Quickly, Thalos beckoned for Dirk and Arwen Sol to follow...

Sandstorm, blizzard, tornado, hurricane. These were the images Finn saw in his mind's eye. All of these phenomenon were completely different in nature, yet fundamentally the same. All were the embodiment of chaos.

This had been Finn's life since the abrupt end of his parents. His existence had been a search for answers to questions he didn't know, grasping at peace that evaporated like fog, and clutching at contentment as one catches at his shadow. His wife had finally told him to leave until he found whatever he was looking for. He was tired.

A close friend in the King's Guard there in Edoras had just told Finn that rumor had it he had been accepted as a Knight in Training for the Mithril Knights. Although he had yet to receive his official summons, Finn had tried to prepare himself for it. Would the other Knights still want him when they found out he refused to use a sword? That he would not inflict an injury he couldn't heal on any natural creature?

With a sigh Finn grabbed Alkawandil from the corner and began to work the staff against the wooden mannequin he had made. The dull thunks against the wood were a relaxing music to him now. Not only did he enjoy the exercise, he also had nothing but fond memories of the one who gave him the staff. Marcolas was an elvish healer who frequented Edoras. It was he who first began to teach Finn of herbs and the joy of growing things and healing people.

Marcolas had called it 'a weapon for one with a healer's heart'. Finn still remembered the first time he felt the smooth dark wood in his hands. It had black knobbed metal caps on each end and 2 inch wide bands of the same metal recessed into the wood evenly spaced down its length. It had the feel of something ancient and yet it's flawless finish contradicted that thought. When Finn asked of its age, Marcolas had said that it had been given to him hundreds of years ago by an elf who had received it many hundreds of years before that. He had heard rumor that it had been made in Valinor itself, it's wood a branch from Yavanna's garden and the metal taken from a fallen star of Varda. He was a little skeptical of that, but this much was certain, it was indeed ancient and made by craft long forgotten, even to the elves.

Exhausted, Finn slumped into a corner of his little house, rivulets of sweat stinging his eyes. Perhaps he would wash up and take a walk. It promised to be a beautiful evening. He could just 'happen' to wander by the Guild House and if anyone was about he just might be able to pick up some confirmation that he had been accepted. As he stood up and looked around his spotless home a thought entered his head that had not been harbored there for a very long time. Perhaps some order was returning to his life after all.

"His name is Finnerin," Athelos said to Elbren as he looked up from the book that he had been reading.

"When did the petition come?" Elbren asked, laying the book on the table beside him.

"Some time ago, but with all that's been going on with the Red Hammer, I've been unable to give proper attention to that duty," Athelos explained.

Elbren thought a moment, and then took the offered parchment and quill, "It will be up to you, Athelos, to find him a Mentor Knight, I'm afraid. I must be off to Lothlorien in the morning; tonight's feast may offer some opportunity to aid you in this task."

Athelos nodded as she watched the Guild Master pen the response to the Rohirrim man, "I will find him a Mentor, do not worry of that."

"Good," Elbren said as he completed the note and then put the wax to the candle nearby to form the seal of the Order upon the folded sheet, "he does not use edged weapons, you say?"

"He does not," Athelos confirmed, "I have heard something of Finnerin and his life. He is skilled with his weapons of choice, though, and his healing skills are akin to those of the Elves."

At that, Elbren looked up, "Indeed? Well....we shall see. Have this sent to him. He will have to make his way to Lothlorien with his Mentor at some point."

Athelos nodded as she took the sealed letter...

Mae Govannon Finnerin of Rohan,

Your petition has been received and read; I apologise for the delay in our response. As you know, recent troubles with the Red Hammer Clan have kept us all from tending to matters of this sort. Your petition has been accepted. Please come to the Edoras Guild House and seek Athelos. I am off to Lothlorien, my home, but the Mithril Knights will be reconvening again within the next few months to further address the Red Hammer. Your Mentor Knight will know where to meet me.

Namarie,

Lord Elbren Galadrim

Thalos had led them down several flights of stairs from the ground-level dining room and stood now before a locked door. The dwarf produced a round keyring from the folds of his tunic and chose a particularly odd-looking key. With a loud "snick" the key turned the complex tumblers and the lock snapped open.

"I am sorry, lass, that we haven't the proper armory of a guildhouse. But we brought a decent store o' weapons with us, just in case, when we were sent to man the tower alongside the Gondorians."

Dirk interjected, "What my stout friend is referring to is the tradition amongst the Mithril Knights to offer up their armory to a new Knight in Training. Please, step inside and choose what you will for the journey. Bear in mind, that relics of the ancient world and mithril-wrought weapons and armour may only be held by an initiated knight. Do you understand?"

Arwen answered a simple, "yes," to the unexpected offer.

"Good. It may be that you are as armed as you please already. But keep an open mind, I found more than I bargained for amongst the stockpile in L—rien," he looked at his forearms, but they were naked. The vambraces remained in his tent, along with his other weaponry. He had chosen to walk unarmed at Orthanc that day, for the first time in a year at least; and in that moment, he realized how uncomfortable it made him.

His sudden silence, seemingly mid-sentence, was awkward, as was his strangely-urgent continuance.

"Choose what you will m'lady, then Sir Thalos will record your choices for our archives and show you to your room." he shifted uneasily, "Rest a little and replenish your pack, I will meet you at the gate at sundown. We begin our travelling to-nite, under cover of darkness."

Without waiting for a response, Dirk turned on his heel and climbed quickly back up to the main hall of Orthanc and exited the Tower.

Thalos, stoic as ever, concealed his concern and turned to Arwen, "Missy, you'll be walkin' alone amongst the racks of our weaponry, choose well and take yer time. As Sir Dirk mentioned, oftentimes, this choice sets the tone for a body's whole knighthood."

He looked carefully into her eyes, reading the anxiety there. "Dunna be worried, deary. Sometimes, it's almost as if the sword, or knife, or helm chooses you." He knew that her concern had nothing to do with the choices she would make in the armory, but rather the odd behaviour of Sir Dirk upon his departure.

"I'll be a'waitin' here in the hall for you. Now, off ya go."

The alabaster skin of Arwen's forehead furrowed with worry momentarily and then smoothed. With a barely-perceptible sigh, she turned and entered the armory...

Dirk stalked across the yard with his eye fixed upon the location of the tent in which he had spent the previous night. He ignored the greetings of the Mithril Knights and soldiers of Gondor along the way, quickening his step each time someone spoke to him.

He felt a kind of angry fear welling up within him, with the growing uneasiness reached its peak just as he threw back the flap of the tent. His eyes darted quickly about the interior until he espied his arms, arranged neatly on a stand beside the cot. In his rush, he knocked over the folding table that held the wash basin that he had used that morning, spilling its cold contents over the tent's canvas floor.

Quickly, he ran his eyes over the stand, inspecting each of his armour-pieces and weapons. They had been taken and cleaned by the Mithril Knight's smithies - all except Neleg Amlug, none dared touch the enchanted black blade.

He hastily donned the new padded under-tunic that was made for him, and the Galvorn-mail hauberk. Almost immediately, he began to calm.

He fastened the straps of èol's vambraces about his arms and straightened to his full height.

He girded himself with his baldric, and fixed Neleg Amlug's scabbard to the frog upon his left hip...and breath a deep sigh.

Dirk then wrapped his Mithril cloak once again about his shoulders and, taking hold of his bow, quiver, and saddlebag, left the tent in search of the stablery. He wished to ride in the lands of the Wizard's Vale to pass the time until they would depart north.

No longer without the star-metal armour, Dirk felt refreshed, awakened. He ran the inexhaustible Endl—m‘ for a few hours until returning to the main gate, where he watched the sun begin to sink behind the Hithaeglir and waited for his charge to meet him.

Finn pinched the letter between his fingers as he proceeded down the rough side street in Edoras. He wanted to read it again but limited himself to a mental recitation since he had already memorized its contents.

He had begun to wonder if he had indeed been accepted after all. His evermore frequent 'walks' by the Guild House had revealed nothing to him except that he would make a terrible spy. In any event, his acceptance was now legitimate with the official word from Lord Elbren in his hand. His house was in order and his travel bags were packed. There remained to him just one task. One he had avoided out of cowardice and shame for years.

His journey ended far too quickly and Finn found himself looking up at a tavern's rough wooden sign, 'The Lucky Duck'.

Flashback: Finn's cohorts in the King's Personal Guard were taking him out to celebrate. His father had just been promoted from Captain of the Guard to personal councilor to the King and Finn had been selected to move up into his father's old position as Guard Captain. He looked up at that same sign and thought it aptly named to suit his current fortunes. They all piled into the little tavern, a boisterous mass of male bravado on top of the world, to begin a night of music, food, and ale.

Present: Finn opened the creaking door and almost expected to see a packed house, as it had been that night, with the din of a full house on payday. Yet the little establishment was empty, save for the keeper who was wiping down tables. He heard someone enter and began to speak as he turned around.

'We don't serve drinks this early in the day but if you want something to eat I could probably'" His words trailed off as he recognized Finn.

'Oh, Master Finnerin, I haven't seen you since, well that is to say, you haven't darkened my door since, well, you know'"

Finn interrupted the addled tavern keeper, 'Good sir, please. I have come to pay my final respects to you and to the memory of the boy. I have been accepted as a Mithril Knight in Training and could not accept such a charge without laying things to rest here."

'But Master, all with ears in this city know the road of atonement you have traveled. You owe me nothing as far as I am concerned. As for the boy, it seems your own conscience is a far crueler punishment than any man would dare to impose. All the same, feel free to sit or roam, as your soul requires. If you need anything give me a holler."

With that the keeper left him to his thoughts and went back about his business. Finn shuffled over to the corner table and sat against the wall.

Flashback: Sitting in that same chair Finn had lost track of how many pints he had downed. His friends were as bad off or worse than he. Given his state it was amazing that he recalled any of what happened after that, and yet every detail was etched into his mind. Out of the corner of his eye he saw the tavern keepers help fishing around in his over tunic for his coin purse. With rough hands he had grabbed the boy and stumbled over to the bar with him.

'What kind of a place are you running here bar keep? This little urchin was trying to steal my purse! I demand he be whipped for such an outrage!" Finn had bellowed in a slurred rage.

'Yes sir, I will whip him tonight and turn him out in the morning. We can't have thieves here bothering the customers." The keeper had replied glaring at the boy.

'Nonsense, you will probably let him off with it. Probably stealing it for you no doubt! I will whip him myself!" Finn had said as he looked around for something to thrash the boy with.

Doubt crept into the keeper's eyes as he assessed Finn's state, 'If you must sir, but please not in here. There is a whipping post out back in the storeroom."

Present: Finn came back to himself to find he had moved to the back door of the tavern and was resting his forehead against the frame. He pushed the door open and struggled through the small yard into the open storeroom. The keeper had removed the whipping post, but a depression in the ground remained where it had been. Finn crumpled into a heap in the dust and buried his face in his hands.

Flashback: The boy's hands were bound to the post and his bare back exposed. He was terrified but silent as Finn stumbled about cursing and looking for a whip. His inability to find one had only made him angrier.

'Hide the whip did you boy? Well that won't get you out of this!"

Finn pulled his broadsword out of its sheath and began to beat the boy with the flat of it. One of his friends came out to see where he had disappeared. 'Finn! Oh gods, what are you doing!"

Finn turned to look at his friend as he delivered the last blow. The blade turned just enough to send its razor edge deep into the boy's back. Sobering in an instant, he turned his head to look at the boy, blood flowing freely from the deep gash. He fell to his knees and pressed his hands to the wound, trying to slow the bleeding. The boy's sightless eyes stared up at the black sky.

Present: Finn thanked the tavern keeper again on his way out and turned back up the crowded little side street. Nothing would ever bring the boy back, just like finding his parent's killers would do nothing to resurrect them. Yet he couldn't forgive himself any more than he could let his parent's murderers go unpunished.

When he got back to his house he saddled Whinny, his mare, and grabbed Alkawandil and his travel bags. As he turned the key to lock his door he waited for the twinge of apprehension he had expected. When nothing came he smiled slightly to himself. He was ready to move on, ready to start the next chapter.

He arrived at the Guild House and tied his mare to a post out front. With flutters of anticipation he knocked on the door and waited. When it opened he said, 'I am Finn, I was told to bring this summons and report to Athelos. I am ready to serve."

Elenath picked up the small brooch that Alandriel had laid before them, stroking it gently with a finger. She turned it over, noting the excellent workmanship, then handed it back to the young woman with a sigh. "I'm afraid I can't help you much, Alandriel. This is definitely a magical object of some sort, but at the moment I can't tell exactly what it does, nor who made it. I will keep it in mind, though, and hopefully I will have the opportunity to study it further on our journey. And there are others in the Mithril Knights who have more knowledge of these things than I." Alandriel nodded, trying to conceal her disappointment. "And as for your other question... I do not know of anything that would prevent you from joining the Mithril Knights: and I'm sure that if there was, Lord Elbren would not have approved your petition. However, if you are truly not sure of what you should do, you should speak with Lord Elbren before your Initiation. He will be able to help you decide." Elenath looked at the solemn faces of the two women, and smiled. "But enough somber matters for now. Today your time is your own: you may go out and enjoy the City, or you may stay here and rest, whatever you desire. Tomorrow morning before we leave, you will have the opportunity to visit the armory here if you so desire, and choose such weapons as we have and you wish to take." She stood, and the other two followed. "We will make an early start, so I suggest you get plenty of rest tonight."

When the two women had gone, Elenath set off down the halls toward the kitchen. She had plenty to do in preparation for their journey, but her mind kept wandering back to Alandriel's brooch. She had not wanted to say very much just yet, not until she had more time to study the thing. But it was definitely a fascinating piece of work... and, perhaps, it might be very useful.

In the Tower of Orthanc

As Arwen stood near the door of the chamber, she heard voices in the hall. She turned in time to see the door open, and was surprised to see a tall, dark-haired Knight step inside. He nodded his head and smiled at her. "Welcome to our armory, Arwen, small as it is. My name is Mearan, and I am performing the duties of Master of Arms here. I can help you choose, if you like, or you can ignore me and I will do no more than watch. However, I must inspect and approve your weapons before you take them from this room." Mearan leaned back against the wall and crossed his arms, smiling easily. "Go ahead and wander around: see if there is something here which catches your eye, or calls your name."

It was Athelos who had answered the knock upon the Edoras Guild House door. She took the letter from the man and read it.

"Ah, yes, Finneran, please, come in. I am indeed Athelos and I bid you welcome to the Guild House of the Mithril Knights," she stepped aside and allowed the Rohirrim man to enter.

"I will show you to your room," she paused, "it is my task to assign you to a Mentor Knight, and I must confess, I have not yet taken care of that for you. However, make yourself comfortable, explore the library and common room to your liking, and I will seek you when the arrangements have been made."

The jewel lay before them, small and delicate against the backdrop of the massive wooden table, yet demanding and attaining a presence reverberating with shadowy forebodings. Whispers from a long lost past almost touching the very air around those present in the room. Several minutes passed in concentrated silence as both women studied and probed it with all their senses.

Vana's curiosity and outgoing demeanour was held firmly in check by an almost palpable mistrust. Had she too picked up on some negative connotation like Lord Erinhue so long ago? He had also refused to make contact. Alandriel noted the Elf's hesitance to touch the brooch although her eyes clearly revealed the desire to do just that. The eerie quietude that had fallen over the room was suddenly disturbed. Surprise furrowed Alandriel's brow as she incredulously saw her mentor reach out, slowly but determinedly taking the pin into her graceful hand. Lady Elenath scrutinized it, turning it over several times and eventually handed it back to the Ranger, her pale face mystified and perplexed.

Alandriel took in her words but could not help to suppress a sigh of disappointment. However, she was glad to hear that other members of the Mithril Knights might have a better understanding and so she resolved herself to let the matter rest. Deep down her instincts stirred giving rise to the premonition that before long, some of her questions would be answered. A prospect she welcomed yet dreaded at the same time.

Elenath's once more cheery voice interrupted her impromptu reverie:

'Enough sombre matters for now. Today your time is your own: you may go out and enjoy the City, or you may stay here and rest. Tomorrow morning before we leave, you will have the opportunity to visit the armoury here if you so desire and choose such weapons as we have and you wish to take."

A whole day to kill in Minas Tirith! But how? What to do? Alandriel was well rested from the night before and was impatient to leave the White City, to once more be on open roads and see the clear horizons without the interference of man made obstructions. No matter how splendid and awe inspiring these surroundings were, she was loath to stay any longer than absolutely necessary. But she hid her feelings behind a gracious smile as she excused herself and left the room in Vana's wake.

The two trainees stood in the corridor and looked at each other questioningly. Explore the city as Lady Elenath had suggested? Alandriel did not fancy that either but then a thought hit her mind. There was something she could do'.. or ".rather'.. there was somebody she would like to meet again. Was that person still alive? Upon her departure from the Old Forest she had remembered the old healer she had met while staying here during the crowning. She had proved to be a gentle person of great knowledge and had helped soothed her troubled mind with an excellent brew. It would be nice to see her again. Alandriel had brought a small supply of her own healing herbs on this trip as usual and maybe this would afford her the chance to compensate the healer for her kindness of so long ago. The wise woman could certainly do with some fresh supplies of plants that only grew in the North and the West.

The thought of having a worthwhile purpose here after all while waiting for the morrow lit up her face as she smiled to Vana:

'I don't know what you have in mind but I would like to look up an old woman, a healer, I once knew in this place. Her name is Ioreth and I owe her a debt of gratitude. If my memory serves me right, I should be able to enquire after her in the Houses of Healing. They are only a short walk away, one level above where we are now. If you like, you could accompany me."

Vana was mulling this over when Alandriel added: 'You can decide a bit later, if you like. Wait for me here while I quickly retrieve a small gift for her from my chamber. It won't take long."

Vana nodded her approval and Alandriel swiftly walked to her chamber. As she entered, her gaze was immediately captivated by a carefully bound scroll that was lying on her bed.

A scroll? Curiously she approached and picked it up. It sported a fine dark wax seal and was simply addressed in graceful letters 'To Alandriel, Mithril Knight in Training'. Bewildered she studied the parchment for a moment. There was nobody, absolutely nobody that knew of her presence here " apart from the Guildmaster of course. She had no relatives, no loved ones, no one that she would have had reason to confide in. So who'"? Another mystery! As much as she wanted to read it right here and now Alandriel suppressed the urge and tucked the letter into her tunic with an irritated sigh. It would not do to let Vana wait. A quick search through her travel pack revealed her well stocked herb pouch. Selecting several different wrappings for her gift, she tucked them away. Finally she reached out to pick up her dagger. It was an old and well used weapon. Maybe she would be able to replace it with a better one before leaving Minas Tirith. Lady Elenath had mentioned a trip to the armoury, something she was looking forward to. Resolutely Alandriel stuck the blade in its place in her boot. No matter how safe the city was, she did not fancy wandering around totally unarmed. She was ready to go. Would Vana indeed be interested in joining her?

After attending to several pressing matters around the Guild House, Athelos had finally managed to find a moment to rest in the quiet of her room. Sitting by the fire and gazing into its warm glow, she was faced with the problem of finding a mentor knight for the newly arrived Finn. There were not many knights around that were capable of training him, especially with the looming prospect of a serious conflict with the Red Hammer clan. In fact, most of the knights who had been in Edoras had already departed, either with Elbren or on their own quest. Neither she nor Freahelm were planning on leaving Edoras any time soon, so Finn could not train under them.

There was one person who could do it....

Athelos shook her head. No, she already knew Tempest's answer without having to ask. Besides, though the Mordorian was skilled as a warrior and strategist, she was not sure how patient she would be with a knight in training, especially one who refused to kill.

Yet, there was no one else to do it.

Tempest would be very angry with the decision, but that might not be so terrible. Athelos guessed that she would probably insist on taking Finn to Lothlorien and delivering him into the hands of Elbren to rid herself of the responsibility. Athelos knew it was not the usual procedure, but she had little choice. At least in Lorien, there were other knights who could take on the role of mentor should Tempest abandon her charge there.

She felt uneasy about putting Finn in such an awkward position, but the times were difficult, and no one could be spared. As a healer, Finneran could be a great asset to them, and Tempest would have to acknowledge that fact.

Athelos sighed and rose from her place by the fire. Her decision was made, and she took a breath and went to find Finneran. He was in the common room, looking at a map of Middle Earth that hung upon the far wall. He turned at her greeting.

She gave him an apologetic smile. "I am sorry to have kept you waiting so long. As you may know, we are in the midst of a serious conflict with the clan of the Red Hammer and many of our knights are no longer here in Edoras, so the Guild House is quieter than normal. I have good news for you, however. You will be accompaning your mentor knight, the Lady Tempest, to Lothlorien, where a council will meet to discuss the recent events that have affected us. Tempest is returning from a scouting mission and should be in Edoras within a day." Here she paused and motioned to a place on the map before him. "Have you ever been to Lorien before?"

The whole day to wander the white city and see all that was there would be nice but there was so much to get ready for their departure tomorrow. Her thoughts suddenly interrupted by Alandriels voice.

'I don't know what you have in mind but I would like to look up an old woman, a healer, I once knew in this place. Her name is Ioreth and I owe her a debt of gratitude. If my memory serves me right, I should be able to enquire after her in the Houses of Healing. They are only a short walk away, one level above where we are now. If you like, you could accompany me."

Before she could think on what was said Alandriel had vanished for her room. Vana, of course, would love to go to the house of healing so as to gather some herbs that she so absentmindedly left without when she came so quickly to Minus Tirith. So she waited for Alandriels return from her room.

As Alandriel came down the corridor Vana stepped up to the huge door and opened it leading out to the courtyard. They both scooted out the door and gazed about them. The sun shone bright and the air was crisp as if a sudden spring chill had settled upon the city. Vana smiled at Alandriel and then headed off toward the inner circle to find the house of healing. Mulling over in her head as to what herbs she wanted to be sure to get to keep with her on this trip.

They city was busy with the everyday mundain things that so many people do, yet it was all new to Vana in that she had never been here to the white city and had only been told tales by her cousin Legolas, when he would return for visits. This was so amazing for her to know that she was walking where he had and seeing the same sights that he would have taken in while he was there. The walls of the city so meticulously made and placed so that an invading army would have more work then they could possibly handle in trying to overtake the city. Its design so intricate and yet so functional. Vana watched the children playing as they passed homes and shops moving ever inward and upward in the city. The smiles upon the faces both worn and old along with the young and fresh. Vana had always marvelled at the way human faces age. They were wrinkled and worn but yet so happy. This was a sign to her that their king had indeed been the best thing to happen to them. Oh to meet the Lord Aragorn, Vana thought how wonderful that would have been but she knew that it would never happen. But still,...... she thought, it would have been great!

Soon they approached what surely was the house of healing. The smells were those that one would expect to find there. The scent of nature and herbs so strong that it soothed the soul of those that passed by. Voices softly speaking as they entered in. Vana walked in and asked kindly for the herbalist who could help her as Alandriel got information about her friend that she sought.

As Vana was escorted to the supplies, Alandriel went on to find her friend, who was thankfully still there, to the delight of Alandriel. It was evident on her face as she was lead out of the main room.

Vana went in to the herbalist and was given all that she needed. Herbs for eating and healing, both. Things for tending to wounds both small and great and the final instructions on the use of them. She would remember for she had been taught of such uses in her home house of healing, but then humans do things some different yet the herbs she needed were of common usage. Though she was not a great healer as some others she knew of, she still had the talent to use most to the comforting of others which was all her use would be for. More experience healers would be called if she could not handle a situation or wound. Looking about and not seeing Alandriel, Vana stepped out of the house of healing when she had her bundles ready and stood outside enjoying the sunshine and the fresh air.

Vana continued to think about what she needed to get things in order and ready to go. She was glad that Lady Elenath had said they would be given weapons as Vana had not brought anything with her but her bow and quiver and they were still in the stables with her beloved Glory. Cared for by the stable hand. It would be nice to have a sword, but other then that she couldnt think of anything else she would need. Of course she had never been on a mission of this sort so she didnt know what she might need. She had confidence in her mentor to be told what she may need.

Tomorrow would be a day of much change. Going down to Dol Amroth! Vana had never been that far from home let alone that close to the sea. What excitement this would be yet she knew very well she was already feeling homesick for her friends. This had been a definate year of change and now this too. Vana took in a deep breath then sighed.

"What is this you silly girl?" she thought to herself. "You have been living as you wish away from so much that was to be yours and now you suddenly miss it?" She shook her head and sighed again.

She set her shoulders and decided this is what she must do if she is to go on. Whether she ever went back to her friends or if she went back to the woods, the choice would not be made today. She had an obligation now to herself to get the training that she needed to be the most useful. This is what she had always dreamed of and had always wanted as far back as she could remember. Vana would not get cold feet nor turn from her path now. The way was clear and the time was set...... tomorrow!

Vana and Alandriel passed many well tended lawns studded with trees upon their approach to the Houses of Healing. Their protected south facing position afforded shelter from the biting northern winds and some tiny spring flowers were already in bloom. The very first stirrings of spring, Alandriel noted with surprise. The crisp, clear winter air was laced with rich aromas of fresh and dried herbs as they approached the simple yet serenely inviting gates, guarded by two men in the livery of the Citadel. After a brief, polite exchange both women were granted entrance and directed to an ante-room. Vana asked permission to replenish her stock of herbs and was soon taken by an attendant to the chambers of the herb master. Alandriel's enquiry as to the whereabouts of the healer Ioreth was met with a soft chuckle.

'You are indeed lucky. Ioreth vowed to spend this winter with her family in Imloth Melui. But it seems her old bones are not taking kindly to the harsh village life anymore and so she has returned just two nights ago." Shuffling some papers on her desk, the official then shot Alandriel a curious glance: 'What is your business with the old woman? She leads a quiet and mostly retired life now, on occasion helping to instruct the young ones and lending a hand in the herb gardens. Do you know her? Are you a relative?"

'No, kind lady, a relative I am not', answered Alandriel, smiling covertly at the unlikely suggestion, 'but I had the good fortune to meet her some years ago. Her skill with herbs was quite excellent and I am indebted to her. My travels have led me to this city yesterday and I would detest departing without speaking to her. I also brought a small gift to express my gratitude for her kindness." Alandriel removed the herb packages from her tunic and opened them for the woman to inspect. 'Could you tell me where I can find her or lead me to her?"

'You are versed in herb-lore then?" The administrator enquired incredulously, raising an eyebrow, while making a quick appraisal of the goods in front of her.

She closed the satchels once more, satisfied, and then handed them back to Alandriel, adding with an affirmative nod: 'Very well then. Seat yourself on one of the benches in the inner courtyard and I will see she meets with you."

Alandriel thanked the woman and stepped into the courtyard as directed, settling on one of the seats. Would Ioreth remember her? Nine years'.. not a long time really' a life time though for Alandriel, in so many respects. The healer had already been well on her way to old age on their first meeting. Would the years have been kind to her? The ranger remembered their encounter, her kindness, council and care as if it had been yesterday'. her expressive face, wrinkled by uncounted years of happiness, sadness, joy and grief, each groove and line testimony to her gentle and caring spirit. Ioreth had been a beacon of light in the darkness and Alandriel owed the healer much, much more than she could ever know.

Out of the corner of her eyes she saw a young girl approach, slowly leading a bent figure shuffling along on tired feet. Alandriel rose and walked towards the two women, carefully taking the older ones arm, guiding her to the closest seat. Once settled, the maid excused herself as the old healer looked questioningly upon the ranger, her clear and alert eyes searching for any clues as to the intruder's identity.

'I am sorry, Mother' Alandriel begun, 'for having disturbed you uninvited. My name is Alandriel and you have shown me great kindness, long ago. It was after Elessar's crowning, after the wedding we met, when'." She gulped involuntarily, the sentence left hanging in the air unfinished. The words would not come forth; too many emotions and memories crowded her mind all at once. She cast her head down, trying to regain her composure when she heard a soft chuckle:

'Yes, I do remember now, although your name still eludes me. There was little I could do at the time, if I recall correctly, except for soothing your sleep. There were no potions to cure your ailment and I believe to this day there still is none."

Alandriel smiled bitter-sweetly as the memories of those days played out in her mind. Ioreth took her hand and with a tender look she added: 'Unlike me though, you seem not to have aged a day. Except your eyes'. there is yet much pain there, and doubt'. tempered though by knowledge and experience. I can see you have changed much, learned a lot. Take heart, child. One day you shall find true happiness, although it might not come in the manner you expect. I hope for you that you will have the wisdom to recognize it, when it knocks on your door."

Those last few words spoken by the wise woman touched Alandriel's ears as if from far away and she had to blink to come back to the present, to hear the woman's next words: 'Never mind child, let us not talk of the past nor of the future. I don't believe you travelled all this way just to talk to me'.. so, what brings you to the White City?"

Alandriel let a moment of silence pass, searching for the right words: 'I have applied to join a group of valiant people and my training will commence soon. Minias Tirith was our meeting point and tomorrow we will be leaving to Belfalas."

Ioreth took in the information with a nod as Alandriel continued: 'I wanted to take the opportunity to see and thank you before leaving, something I failed to do upon my last departure many years ago. " Again, the healer nodded, waiting for the Ranger to conclude her tale. 'Since then, I've occupied my time by studying herb-lore and healing. I believe, you are one of the persons I have you to thank for that turn, since your kind gestures played an important part in inspiring me to choose a different path."

Alandriel reached into her tunic to retrieve the herb satchels, handing them to the old woman. 'Here, Mother. Those are for you, a few herbs from the North and East that are not easily found in Gondor. The first is Cuilrif, Bark of Life. Mixed with the second, Melthigolf or Golden Rod, it will make for a strengthening and warming tea to help ease the pains of winter. The last one is Garaphyg, also called Wolf Berry. A concoction made of this will keep the senses sharp. Please accept them as a small gift of friendship and as a token of my gratitude."

The old healer took the packets, inhaling their fragrant smell, and then smiled: 'You are very kind child. Indeed, I can see you have studied our ancient craft well. Maybe one day you could share your knowledge by helping instruct our acolytes. Our Warden is always looking for good teachers."

'I would very much like that. But it will be many years yet until I will be capable to do so. Indeed I must take my leave now although my heart would be content to stay for a while. The road beckons and on the morrow I must be on my way. I yet have to prepare for the journey. Can I escort you to your chambers, my lady?"

'No child, let us say our farewells here. The sun is yet weak but I enjoy the warming rays on a splendid day like this. I shall rest here awhile before returning to my chores. May the light shine on your path and may Eru keep you."

'And you', Alandriel whispered, as she squeezed the old woman's hand gently. She stood, smiling one last time at Ioreth, and then left the courtyard.

Outside she found Vana resting comfortably against the thick stone wall, her eyes closed as if dreaming, the sunlight reflecting off and catching her golden hair. 'How beautiful she looks', mused Alandriel. 'There is a certain grace, nobility in elves that makes them ". well' 'other-worldly'. Although this one seems to have both feet firmly on the ground, except now, when she thinks herself unwatched." Involuntarily Alandriel chuckled at that last thought and the soft noise disrupted the Elf's reverie.

'Did you find what you were looking for?" Vana nodded affirmatively.

'Good, then let's head back. I believe it is almost time for lunch and I think we should not pass by the opportunity of a fine meal while we still have the chance. Roadside fair will be our companion for many days to come."

Vana laughed light-heartedly and both women threaded their way back to the guild house. Sir Feathan opened the door and bid them enter. 'Lady Elenath is still occupied with the preparations for your departure. She bids me tell you that you can take your meal in that room. " He gestured at the chamber where they had breakfasted earlier. 'There are also food supplies laid out for you of which you may take freely as you wish. Afterwards each of you, separately, will be given the opportunity to visit the armoury to choose your weapons as you see fit, except for Mithril items and relics as per Lady Elenath's instructions. I will escort you there once you are ready." With these words he left the two trainees and disappeared down the hall.

Tempest arrived in Edoras just as the sun's golden orb dipped below the horizon and vanished against the encroaching darkness. Her horse had slowed to a weary trot and each breath it took sounded painful even to Tempest's ears. She dismounted and stroked the horse's neck soothingly for several minutes, whispering softly against the drooping head. She made certain that the stable boy gave the horse enough food and water before she trudged inside the Guild House to find her own food and drink.

She had not failed to notice that the stable was nearly empty, and she guessed that the other Knights had already left. She hoped that they had not departed long ago, for then she would be forced to follow swiftly, and she was weary from heavy travel.

Athelos greeted her warmly. 'Did you find what you were looking for?" she asked.

'Unfortunately," Tempest answered, her eyes scanning the room for any hint of food. She was famished.

'You must be hungry. I'll have something brought out for you shortly," Athelos said with a smile. Tempest nodded in gratitude. 'In the meantime, I have a certain piece of news that you may find interesting."

'News? I hope nothing bad'"

'That depends on how you look at it. We have a new petitioner to the Guild here in Edoras. He is from Rohan and his name is Finnerin. Have you heard of him' Athelos asked.

'No. Should I have?"

'I don't suppose so," Athelos halted.

'It seems to be a strange time to be taking in petitioners. We should be focused on our task at hand," Tempest noted.

'Elbren feels that Finn would be a welcome ally with us. It has been decided that he will be a knight in training."

Tempest shrugged. She didn't really care as long as this Finnerin didn't get in her way. Why had Athelos even bothered to bring up the subject? She should have known that it would interest her very little. Tempest yawned in spite of herself. 'If Elbren feels that way, then so be it. Now, where is that food you were talking about?"

Athelos looked uncomfortable. 'It's just that'.well, Finn needs a mentor knight."

Tempest's eyes narrowed. 'I'm certain Elbren has already taken care of that."

'Yes, he has. He left the decision up to me."

'Well?"

'And, I have chosen you."

Tempest looked at her in disbelief. 'What?"

'I chose you. I think that it would be a beneficial experience for both of you."

'It won't be so beneficial when I end up killing him! There must be someone else to do it!" Tempest insisted.

'There is no one else. I need you to do this Tempest. There is no other way," Athelos replied calmly.

'I think it is most unwise! Have you forgotten that not even a fortnight has passed since I nearly forsook the Mithril Knights? Besides, I am not the ideal mentor. I have not the patience for it!" Tempest protested.

'As I said, there is no one else. You can take up your complaints with Elbren in Lorien, but for now, Finn is your responsibility. You give yourself too little credit. You have been a dedicated member of our Guild, and your advice invaluable to us."

'I have not the'the personable qualities that make for a good mentor," Tempest said haltingly.

Athelos could barely suppress a smile. 'I don't think I've ever seen you afraid of anything before," she said.

Tempest's face hardened. 'I am not afraid. I am simply stating the truth."

'So am I. He will train under you. Oh, and one more thing: He is a healer. He refuses to deliver a blow that he cannot heal."

'Are you saying that he will not kill?" Tempest asked, a strange horror dawning on her.

'Yes."

Tempest's face was livid with conflicting emotions. 'It will be like taking care of a child! I am a warrior, Athelos! I can't be looking over my shoulder to watch him in the heat of battle! I'd like to know what exactly you are thinking in burdening me with this'this knight!"

'He will not be a burden. And as for his convictions, you can ask him for yourself. He is expecting you. I told him you would be in to see him. Go, speak with him. I will bring your supper in to you there."

Tempest started to protest, but Athelos hurried away towards the kitchen. The Mordorian was left standing alone in the darkened passageway, silently cursing her luck. She briefly considered leaving the Guildhouse and riding to Lothlorien that very night to chide Elbren with Athelos' foolish decision, but she was weary from travel. Athelos' words still rang in her ears. She was not afraid. She would not be accused of cowardice.

She hesitated momentarily before the door, but then she stepped into the room where Finn was sitting, warming his hands by the fire. His back was turned to her, and she took one look at him and went back out the door. 'What's the matter?" Athelos asked, surprised at seeing her again in the hallway.'What are you doing?" she asked.

'Nothing!" Tempest snapped, and went back into the room where Finn stood by the fire. She cleared her throat and he turned around.

'Finnerin, I presume. I am Tempest. Athelos tells me that I am to be your mentor Knight."

He looked like he was about to speak, but she held up her hand. 'I understand that you do not believe in killing. I hope you do not expect me to hold the same view." She winced as if the words rang harshly even in her own ears. Now, now, she could be civil if she chose. She would save her anger for Elbren when next she saw him. Until then, she could not blame the man before her for this unfortunate situation.

She shook her head apologetically. 'You must forgive me. I am too blunt sometimes, to my own misfortune. I am certain you are a noble man, else you would not be here. Please, let me begin again: My name is Tempest. It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance. Athelos tells me you have some'interesting ideas about warfare. I would like very much if you would share them with me'.."

'You must forgive me. I am too blunt sometimes, to my own misfortune. I am certain you are a noble man, else you would not be here. Please, let me begin again: My name is Tempest. It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance. Athelos tells me you have some'interesting ideas about warfare. I would like very much if you would share them with me..."

Finn recognized Tempest's effort at civility, but it did little to soothe him. His sharp hearing had picked up every word that had been spoken in the other room. He glared at his 'mentor' with stormy eyes and without a word, walked to the corner and grabbed Alkawandil.

'Lady, it is true that I will not kill another man, or an elf or dwarf for that matter. That does not make me helpless, or dependant on your protection. However, we will settle this matter now. Choose your weapon, if you are able to land one blow, I will leave this place and trouble you no more." Finn saw a brief look of amusement play across her face followed by shock as she realized he was deathly serious. That slowly gave way to anger and a grim determination to be rid of this whacko after all.

'Very well Finn, I tried to be civil but it seems you open the door for me with your arrogance. I will fetch my sword." With that Tempest stamped off to retrieve it.

Athelos interrupted, 'As entertaining as this is, could you please take it out onto the practice field, and Tempest, please use a practice sword? I don't want Finn to have to display his healing arts on himself." She gave Finn a withering look as he brushed past her. 'Elbren is not going to like how this relationship has begun."

'Elbren does not have to know, this is between Tempest and myself. If I do not establish myself to her now and earn her respect, we could very well be the death of each other."

Finn went out back and onto the worn dirt of the practice yard. There were practice dummies and various pieces of equipment meant to enhance physical strength and endurance, but the only focus for Finn was Tempest who was swinging a blunted sword and looking fiercely determined. He hoped he had not made a mistake, but the time for doubting his decision was past as almost instantly she was upon him.

He assumed his defensive posture and began to parry blow after blow. Alkawandil responded, absorbing each impact and distributing it down it's length such that Finn barely felt it. Block, dodge, parry. The dance had begun and Finn was now reveling in it. He was glad Tempest had chosen a sword, since he had at one time been pretty good with one himself, and was therefore familiar with the footwork and attack patterns. Gods but she was a fierce fighter, far superior to any level of skill he had once possessed. Several times she nearly snuck one through, but Finn was fresher and at an advantage, having been well fed and rested today. Her style was unlike any he had ever studied and he caught himself looking forward to studying it further. One thing at a time, first he must pass this test.

He dared not take the offensive, for there he was much less sure. Focusing strictly on defense, Finn knew he was practically untouchable, if not particularly dangerous. He could parry all day, but exploiting gaps was something he did not excel at, and often left himself open as a result. No, he could wait. She had been through much that day already and was bound to tire soon.

Just as he thought she was about to call it off she renewed her attack, obviously frustrated at not having vanquished him already and feeding off of her anger.

Athelos stood off to the side, eventually taking a seat as the engagement stretched out into the evening. She smiled as the blows and blocks began to slow down in frequency and potency until finally Tempest and Finn both collapsed into sweating, heaving, heaps. She quietly turned around and went back into the guild house quite pleased with her choice.

'If we ever mean to defeat an army through exhaustion, we shall indeed find you useful." Tempest said raggedly. 'But you have proven your point, I will not concern myself with your welfare on the battlefield. If you do not kill though, how can you contribute to a battle? You may as well stay behind to care for the wounded." Her distaste at this last statement was evident.

'There are many ways to incapacitate a person without killing them. In certain situations it is useful to have live prisoners instead of rotting corpses. I can also use a bow, not as well as the staff, but well enough to inflict the type of wound I want. The body can take a lot of punishment, some would argue that keeping a body alive can be worse than a swift and clean death." Tempest raised her eyebrows as though she had not thought of that aspect before, and it seemed to pacify a part of her. 'Also, I have no qualms slaughtering such abominations as orcs and other unnatural creatures. In fact, I rather relish it, given my other restrictions." This gained him a definite smile from the Mordorian.

'Perhaps there is hope for us yet, Finnerin of Rohan. Let us at least discuss it over some food and drink. I am absolutely famished."

With that the two exhausted, but generally satisfied warriors helped each other to their feet and staggered into the Guild House, where Athelos had seen to it that a fine meal had been made ready.

Arwen watched her Mentor's retreating back and wondered at the things that haunted him. Looking worriedly to Thalos for answers, she was not surprised when he purposely misunderstood her apprehensions and calmed her worries over choosing weapons instead.

Looking curiously into the windowless room, Arwen found it lit with sconces: the flames flickering eerily over the neat piles of armor and weapons that graced every possible surface. She heard Thalos silently take his leave of her but did not turn for the magnitude of her decision was just reaching her. Though she had defended herself in the past, she did not know if it was within her to take the life of another living being.

The sound of approaching footsteps in the hall outside, snapped her out of her reverie. The door opened and she turned warily in time to see a tall, dark-haired Knight step inside and smilingly proceed to introduce himself.

Arwen's steady green gaze looked closely over the stranger who called himself Mearan, he looked kindly enough though as a seasoned traveler she knew that appearances could be deceiving. However she knew that as an untested warrior, Sir.Dirk would not have left her in any place where she need fear the inhabitants. Nodding solemnly to the dark-haired Knight she silently accepted his offer of helping her choose possible weapons.

As she walked through the room, she could almost hear the beating of her own heart in the encroaching silence. All manners of swords, axes and spears as well as coats of mail, hauberks, greaves and vambraces, helms and shields surrounded her. She shuddered to think of what had become of their previous bearers, for surely none of these were newly wrought.

Many of the making of the weapons were unfamiliar to her for her people rarely made use of such things as axes or spears. Much of her skills were in archery and in the use of the short-sword, but she knew her longbow from Lothlorien would be quite unmanageable if she were traveling mounted--- though she would still take it with her. Her father's sword and scabbard rested lightly against her hip as she moved around reminding her that she was not completely without arms.

She managed to pick out a mail shirt that--- though not mithril, was light enough not to tire her slender frame should she need to travel afoot. The soft clinking sounds of the metal links running against each other accompanied her deeper into the room. She didn't think she'd need anything more than and was about to turn when a flash of fire on green caught her eyes.

The swords were mounted on the walls; their hilts and scabbards were worn but clean. A sword, much smaller than the rest was off to the side and Arwen peered at it closely for it seemed almost familiar. Looking down at own sword she saw the small green gem in its pommel wink at her in the firelight. Unbuckling it from her side she held it up to the one on the wall and couldn't help the small gasp of surprise that escaped her trembling lips.

At the slight sound Mearan was suddenly right beside her. Following her shocked gaze, his eyebrow rose slightly as he considered the two identical weapons before him. He had never seen that design anywhere before and in fact the existence of that particular short-sword in the Knight's armory had completely slipped his mind, for no one in all his years, had ever claimed it. He'd seen Arwen's weapon as soon as he had stepped into the room and he doubted that any of this had been planned.

Taking the sword off the wall, he told Arwen to unsheathe hers as he did the same so they see if the blades were identical as well. Arwen soundlessly did as she was told; she already knew what she would see etched onto her own blade and she was intrigued as to whether it was the same on the other. The marks were different' though in the same indecipherable script and she longed to be able to read the words.

'Do you know what it says?" she asked the Knight hopefully, but to her disappointment, he shook his head in negation. They slid the weapons firmly into their scabbards and for the first time Mearan noticed the startling resemblance of the green gems to the color of the peredhel's eyes. Clearly having decided that she had made her decision, Arwen refastened her belt to her waist and picked up her chosen mithril shirt and silently held them out for the Arms Master's inspection. With only the slightest hesitation Mearan picked up the twin of her sword and told her to follow him. Nothing was purely coincidence.

Mearan took the strange sword, and the mail, and led Arwen out of the room. Thalos was waiting for them in the hall. Mearan handed him the sword and the mail. "The lady has made her choices, and they are good ones. Take her to Sir Dirk, if you will." He turned to Arwen. "Speak freely to your mentor about your swords. He will help you to discover what this means." Mearan smiled warmly at Arwen. "I wish you the best in your training, Arwen." He bowed, and strode off down the corridor.

"Sir Dirk'll be waiting for you at the main gate in an hour's time." Said Thalos as the dwarf and the peredhel walked the obsidian halls of Orthanc, every stride of Arwen's doubled or trebled by Thalos in order to keep pace.

Arwen's brow furrowed as she was about to ask a question (apparently about her mentor knight's disposition, Thalos thought) but they stopped abruptly before a set low double doors not far from the dining hall where they had shared the earlier meal. Thalos pushed the swinging doors open to reveal a vast kitchen.

"The pantries here, there, and there," the dwarf pointed at curtained alcoves, "will have food fit for traveling. Provision yourself for a week, if memory serves right. For then you'll find yourself among the northmen of Dale and the Dwarves of the Lonely Mountain and finer wine and meats you'll not find any any other region." Thalos paused, recalling a fond memory of a feast at Th‡in's table: roast Mutton on the bone, vast loaves of soft bread with honey and butter and the wine of the men of Laketown south of Dale.

He shook his head in order to clear his mind of such useless daydreaming. "Once you've made ready, find your horse and meet Sir Dirk at the gate. You'll be many leagues from here 'ere you stop fro rest, if I guess Dirk's mind rightly. Now I have many things to see to, and I must beg your leave. Forgive me for not seeing you to the door." The dwarf was backing out of the kitchen, "It was grand to meet ye, Arwen. May your road be safe and your reward be swift. When next we meet, you'll be wearin' the cloak of a Knight, I'll warrant. Fare well!" With a low bow, Thalos exited the room and left Arwen to fend for herself amongst the pantries of Orthanc.

**********************************

Dirk leaned against the cold stone of the archway, alternately watching Endl—m‘ graze outside the gate and the approach from the Tower for his charge. He was calm, for the battles were behind him now and this mission held no danger. It was more of a diplomatic envoy than a military one. What's more he was returning to the land of his childhood, where he knew the people and there moods. The dwarves of Erebor would be easily read by the astute Dœnadan; he would know of their anger or grief at the destruction of the Arkenstone before they expressed it.

At that moment, Dirk espied the form of his half-elven Knight in Training riding towards the deep archway. He remained still and waited until her horse was under the stone to speak.

"I trust you are outfitted and ready to travel?" Dirk's gravelly voice turned Arwen in her saddle with a start and sent her horse skittering away from him. She managed to get her mount under control and peered into the shadows to see Sir Dirk. His black garb and deep blue cloak had hidden him completely in the twilight.

"Forgive me, I did not mean to startle you." He stepped closer and reached out to her mount's neck, stroking it gently and instantly calming the horse.

"There is nothing to forgive, lest it be my lack of wariness." replied Arwen.

"You had no need to be wary on these premises." He attempted to adjudge her mood, but in the dark tunnel at dusk he could not see her eyes well enough. "Well, let us gather my errant steed and be on our way."

The lady nodded and they walked, horse and man, out onto the road beyond the gate. Without a word or signal, the black stallion raised his head from his grazing and cantered to the wating travelers.

Dirk mounted deftly and led Arwen away, across the Isen and out of Nan Curun’r. They rode on across the plain of the westfold towards the east for several hours. Dirk guessed that they had gone some forty miles and decided that they should stop. They tied the horses up to a stunted tree and made their camp upon a grassy knoll. Dirk gathered what wood could be found amonst the brush and squat trees in the hollows about their little hill and made a fire. As they ate their little meal, prepared from the stock they had taken from Orthanc, Dirk began to describe the road ahead for Arwen.

"Tomorrow, we make for the crossing of the Entwash called Entwade. It is some ninety miles southeast from here. Then we will turn northeast across the Downs to the East Wall of Rohan. The Rohirrim have set up a ferry that will get us across Anduin. From there, we travel within sight if Greenwood's eastern eaves until we reach Esgaroth and my...father's inn, the Golden Dragon."

Unsure if Arwen caught his hesitation, Dirk paused to get a sense of her reaction.

"Have you travelled the lands before us?" he asked after a few moments.

Dirk tore a piece of bread from a loaf and munched it fitfully whilst he awaited a description of Arwen's travelling experience in the east of wilderland.

Their lunch was soon finished and Sir Feathan returned to escort Vanaladiel to the armoury.

Alandriel, once more alone in the room, took the opportunity to select some dried meat and fruit as well as some cram for the road ahead, packing the supplies tightly into one of the leather satchels provided for just that purpose. What sight would await her there, when it was her turn? For certain, the weapons room would be well stocked, especially here in the White City, it being now the very heart of Middle Earth. Alandriel barely suppressed her excitement at the prospect of being given her turn soon. Meanwhile she would have to wait until called and since she now found herself all alone in the room, this was the perfect time to read the correspondence she had received.

Seating herself once more at the large table, she retrieved the parchment from her tunic and studied the seal once more. It was of a dark vermilion colour not unlike that of a precious ruby, but there were neither markings nor any other signs that would reveal any clues as to the identity of the sender. There was only one way to find out. Quickly she broke the seal and unfolded the scroll. Her eyes scanned the letter briefly and came to rest on the signature at the end: Rholarowyn! Of course! It made sense! Rho, being a Mithril Knight would now of her petition to join the guild. She might even have supported her application. Why had she not thought of that? Silently Alandriel chided herself for not having remembered her friend of old. But then'.. it had been a long time since she last heard of her, their ways having parted fairly soon after that fated Bard wedding.

A warm smile crept over her face as she recollected the events of that wondrous day. Then she read the missive in full:

***

Dear Alandriel,

Warmest greetings to you my friend. I cannot express my happiness enough when Elbren informed me that your petition for the Mithril Knight Guild had been accepted and that you had begun your training in Minas Tirith. Lady Elenath and I also went through our Mithril Knight training together and I can assure you that she will be an excellent mentor knight for both you and Vanaladiel.

One of the reasons I am writing is to let you know that I have recently received a letter from our friend Moujhadin. You may have already received one from him too. If not you will shortly since he also mentioned that he has sent one to you as well as sending similar letters to Jiyadan, Edain, Mealgwn, and Bardhwyn. It appears there are some new developments happening in the East and Moujhadin is requesting our aid. The enemy which they are currently fighting against has begun to use extreme and cruel tactics to keep our friend and his troops engaged in side battles, preventing them from fighting the true battle against the Sultan's troops.

This brings me to the other reason I am writing to you. Since Elbren is taking some time to visit his family in Lothlorien, I am going to answer Moujhadin's request and travel to the East. Actually it will be closer to Harad. He has left me detailed instructions as to where I can find him, and hopefully some of the others will be able to join me in coming to his aid. I also seek to learn more about this enemy he's facing and will try to learn as much as I can to see if there is any connection between them and the Clan of the Red Hammer. This new enemy of ours appears to be very invasive. If their hand also reaches East and South, then it would be better for us to know now, than to be surprised later.

My only regret is in the timing of Moujhadin's request since you will not be able to travel with me. I would have enjoyed your company on this journey and understand how delighted you would have been seeing our Easterling friend again. But just so you know, I will not be traveling alone. Chirion, my wolf companion, will be accompanying with me. This shall prove most interesting when I arrive. While Jiyadan knows of Chirion, Moujhadin does not. I will pay close attention to his response upon our arrival, so I can share the details of this little surprise with you when I return. I will be sure to pass on your greetings to him, as well as the good news of your Mithril Knight training.

Well the time has come for me to conclude this letter. The wonderful smells of dinner are now reaching my room and soon the dinner bell will be ringing. Tonight we are celebrating the membership of our two newest Knights, Nienor-Niniel and Anorast. I look forward to the day when we will be having this feast to you too. I will make it a point to be back from the East so I can join you in this celebration.

Good luck with your journey to Dol Amroth and I look forward to the day when our paths will cross again.

Your friend,

***

Sighing, she put the letter down and reflected for a moment upon this news. Rho was travelling to the East to help a man Alandriel had forcefully banned from her mind for a long while. What were her words? "" and I understand how delighted you would have been seeing our Easterling friend again'" Delighted? Yes, but also apprehensive. Moujhadin'. That name stirred so many conflicting feelings, emotions she had buried deep inside, thinking she would eventually break free of them. There was a certain fascination swayed back and forth by sentiments of concern and regard as well as antipathy, bordering at times almost on repulsion. Their encounter had produced intense spells of feeling strangely connected at a very deep level accompanied by an all-encompassing understanding, an inner knowing that had touched upon her very soul. However, those almost magical moments had been all too often interspersed by instances of utter bewilderment, anger and even hatred, mingled with a sense of being cast helplessly adrift in an emptiness full of doubt and fear. Most of all though, she felt guilt, regret for having followed her instincts unquestioningly. Her discoveries had irrevocably changed his life and she was uncertain whether she had done him a good deed or if she had brought doom to his doorstep.

From Rho's letter it seemed he was facing renewed difficulties in Harad. Would that she could depart and answer his call for aid. That at least would give her a chance to make good for the past and maybe afford her more insights into his compelling character. Alas, it was not to be, not now in any case. Part of her was actually relieved to be engaged here, with the affairs of the Mithril Knights, she noted with surprise. It would give her more time to mentally and emotionally prepare herself for their inevitable meeting sometime in the future. A confrontation that would be rife with conflict and powerful emotions, she knew.

Rho wrote of the intensifying skirmishes in the South and East having possibly something to do with the Clan of the Red Hammer. Alandriel made a mental note to ask Lady Elenath for further details as she did not quite understand what it all meant. Maybe on their ride to Belfalas her mentor would inform them about the recent events involving the guild. As to Chrion, Rho's wolf companion, she chuckled at the thought of the Easterling's possible reaction. Alandriel had not met her friend's faithful companion but they had shared many fire side stories and it was clear that Rho was immensely fond of her four legged friend.

A knock on the door followed by Sir Feathan's entrance interrupted her reflections.

'Are you ready to visit the armoury?"

Alandriel stood and slung the small provisions satchel over her shoulder. 'Yes, I am', she answered simply.

The Mithril Knight beckoned her to follow him and he led the way through several hallways to a sturdy door guarded by another knight in Mithril livery.

'Read this plaque before you enter' he commanded her, pointing at a large stone plate that hung on the wall beside the door. She could make out many carvings, the light from a torch mounted beside it reflecting off its polished surface. Then he added stern faced but not unfriendly: 'I shall be waiting here until you return."

Alandriel nodded and turned to read the etchings presented there:

The Oath of a Mithril Knight

1. Chivalry is a high code of honour which is of most ancient origin and must be lived by all who would be a Mithril Knight.

2. It must be keened that thoughts and intent put forth on this middle earth will wax strong in other worlds beyond, and return...bringing into creation, on this world, that which had been sent forth. Thus one should exercise discipline, for "as ye do plant, so shall ye harvest."

3. "This above all...to thine own self be true."

4. A Mithril Knights' word must have the validity of a signed and witnessed oath. Thus give thy word sparingly, but adhere to it like iron.

5. Refrain from speaking ill of others, for not all truths of the matter may be known.

6. Pass not unverified words about another, for hearsay is, in large part, a thing of falsehoods.

7. Be thou honest with others, and have them known that honesty is likewise expected from them.

8. The fury of the moment plays folly with the truth, to keep ones head is a virtue.

9. Contemplate always the consequences of thine acts upon others. Strive not to harm.

Upon reading that article she swallowed hard. If one could but just know the consequences of ones actions, if the paths and decisions were always clear " it would be easy indeed. Contemplation was very well but her experience had shown that no matter how much thought was put forth, events more often than not unfolded in a most surprising and often unintended way. The great weaver was forever working her tapestry and many times Alandriel had felt powerless, tossed this way or that in the winds of time.

All one could do was act truthfully and with the very best of intentions, then step back and let matters unfold'..Sighing, she continued.

10. Dignity, a gracious manner and a good humour are much to be admired.

11. Courage and honour endure forever. Their echoes remain when the mountains have fallen and crumbled to dust.

12. Pledge friendship and fealty to those who so warrant. Strengthen those of the brethren and they shall strengthen thee.

13. Thou shall not reveal the secrets of the Mithril Knights Guild or any secrets trusted to you by a fellow Guild member.

14. Have pride in thy self and seek perfection in body and in mind. For it is said "How cans't thou honour another, lest thy honour thy self first?"

Worthy commandments indeed. The Mithril Knights had a high code of honour and conduct. Would she be able to live up to them?

With a last glance back to Sir Feathan she finally stepped into the armoury.

If she had been less tired, Tempest would have indulged her anger more and retired for the night with a few sharp parting words, but her hunger got the better of her, and she sat down at the table with a nervous anticipation as Athelos brought out the steaming food. With contentment written all over her face, she looked with approval at the spread before her and quickly made short work of it.

It was not until she was done that she sat back and examined the man sitting across the table from her. He had impressed her during the fight, and she was pleased that he had been such a worthy foe. At least she wouldn't have to be watching out for him, for in these perilous times she needed her wits about her.

She still did not understand why he held such conviction about killing. To her, orcs, men, dwarves and elves held the same darkness, for she had seen each race commit acts that shook even her cold heart. But of the four, the orcs alone held her pity, for it was not in their nature to be anything but slaves. Such was their Maker's design for them, and their evil was deep and consumed their very hearts.

Finn was looking at her now, as if waiting for some sort of answer to an unspoken question. She turned to Athelos and asked, 'When did the others leave?"

'Yesterday," she said.

'And we are to follow them to Lothlorien?"

'Yes. Did you find anything in Mordor that can be of help to us?" Athelos asked.

'Perhaps," she eyed Finn for a moment. 'Are you strong enough to travel tomorrow?"

'I am ready whenever you wish to leave," he answered.

Athelos protested at her words. 'You just arrived and are weary from travel. You should not strain yourself too much, lest you have not the strength when you need it. Wait but a day or two."

Tempest shook her head. 'The matter is urgent. Even now Saruman has sent spies throughout the lands, and I doubt even Lothlorien will be safe much longer. As it is, our path may be treacherous and given a few days, it could even be overrun. Remember, we still do not know where he is going."

'If that is your wish, then Eru protect you."

Tempest turned again to Finn. 'You have joined us at a perilous hour in which the fate of Middle Earth again hangs in the balance. Our enemy is clear, but his plans are not. Tell me, why is it that you have come to join the Mithril Knights at such a time?"

As Alandriel and Vana had their meal they spoke of things they had seen thus far this day. As they finished Sir Feathan came and called Vana to follow him to the armory. Obediently she followed leaving Alandriel alone in the main room.

Walking down the corridor Vana noticed the decor.... though it was simple was elegant in it nature and true to what she would have expected from a Guild of Mithril Knights. The furnishings were clean lined and simple but still very regal in its appearance. There was not frivolity to the furnishings what so ever but yet it felt homey and comfortable. The corridor was well lit with candles and sconces of cast iron works no doubt made by the dwarves. The ceilings high but not too high. The corridor itself was roomy enough that a good sized group could be escorted down the hallway without anyone in discomfort.

When Sir Feathan had led her a while he stopped by a large stone plaque and told her to read.

The Oath of a Mithril Knight

1. Chivalry is a high code of honour which is of most ancient origin and must be lived by all who would be a Mithril Knight.

2. It must be keened that thoughts and intent put forth on this middle earth will wax strong in other worlds beyond, and return...bringing into creation, on this world, that which had been sent forth. Thus one should exercise discipline, for "as ye do plant, so shall ye harvest."

3. "This above all...to thine own self be true."

4. A Mithril Knights' word must have the validity of a signed and witnessed oath. Thus give thy word sparingly, but adhere to it like iron.

5. Refrain from speaking ill of others, for not all truths of the matter may be known.

6. Pass not unverified words about another, for hearsay is, in large part, a thing of falsehoods.

7. Be thou honest with others, and have them known that honesty is likewise expected from them.

8. The fury of the moment plays folly with the truth, to keep ones head is a virtue.

9. Contemplate always the consequences of thine acts upon others. Strive not to harm.

10. Dignity, a gracious manner and a good humour are much to be admired.

11. Courage and honour endure forever. Their echoes remain when the mountains have fallen and crumbled to dust.

12. Pledge friendship and fealty to those who so warrant. Strengthen those of the brethren and they shall strengthen thee.

13. Thou shall not reveal the secrets of the Mithril Knights Guild or any secrets trusted to you by a fellow Guild member.

14. Have pride in thy self and seek perfection in body and in mind. For it is said "How cans't thou honour another, lest thy honour thy self first?"

Vana was most honored then to be a petitioner for membership she felt. For this truly was a guild of superior standards. One of which she did hope she could live up to. Her heart set on doing her best and learning all she could be so that she could fulfill her dream of truly helping in the fight for Middle Earth against the evil that bred like comtempt against anything good. She knew full well that she would come to know Mithril Knights who could lose their lives in the fight for the freedom of the peoples they would represent. Vana also knew that would mean she may be called upon to give her own life for the cause and with the numbing pain inside that seemed a very acceptable offer.

Sir Feathan then had her enter the armory to seek the weapons she would carry on her mission with the arms for Dol Amroth.

Stepping in she drew in her breath as she looked about the room with it numberous weapons all ready for use and kept lovingly for future use in great battles and conquests. Vana stepped in lightly and with awe as she turned everyway to look upon the weapons of the guild. Daggars, swords, bows, quivers and the likes as she had never seen. Gingerly she walked through examining each and every item before her, admiring the workmanship and feeling of it in her hands. Picking up a sword with a leather scabbord she drew the sword out and held it in her hand the weight seemed very light and the balance was exceptional. There were markings on the hilt that she didnt recognise but it fit well and almost seemed to mold to her delicate hand. The hilt long enough to wield it two handed should she choose to. This she decided would be good for her to use. She swung the sword around a bit showing she had some skill with such a weapon but wasnt necessarily the best, for she knew she had a lot to learn still to be considered a good swordswoman, but she did appreciate a fine sword. Next she spied a small daggar that could easily be tucked in a boot or bodice of a gown. This had some tooling that she did not recognise upon it so she wondered if it might be a weapon from some other area captured in some battle and added to the armory for use by anothers hand. So with great care and respect she picked it up to examine it as well. Again being a small daggar it fit her hand very well so she chose to take it as well. Finally she spotted a quiver of fine grain leather with markings she did recognise. It was from her own woodland realm and the arrows were exquiste so she decided to take it as well, for her own was well worn and she liked the look of this one and she may need the arrows to go with her long bow that she already possessed. She hoped that her choices were acceptable to Sir Feathan and the Lady Elenath and she would be allowed to keep them on this trip at least.

So finally Vana stepped from the armory and as she walked up to Sir Feathan it was apparent on his face that her choices had indeed been accepted as both good and wise. He led her back to her room and told her to get some rest as that evening they would be gathering all their things together for they would have lots to do to prepare for the morning and having one more meeting with the Lady Elenath before they took their nights rest. Then at first light or even before they would head out on their trek to Dol Amroth.

Suddenly Vanas excitement must have shown for the stoic Sir Feathan almost grinned at her as she felt all the anticipation come to the surface.

"Thank you Sir Feathan for all your help and support here as we prepare for this next phase of our training!" Vana said softly to him as he turned to leave. He nodded and went on down the corridor. Vana turned and closed the door behind her and leaned back on it with a big smile upon her face. She was really here and really going to do it. Her thoughts then turned to another face and her smile almost vanished.

A heaviness settled in upon her heart again as she quietly walked over to the bed and sat upon its edge. Would he think her a silly girl for wanting this? Was she thinking straight or going foolishly to danger? She sighed deeply then layed back on her bed and closed her eyes as a tear ran down her left cheek and she drifted off to sleep.

**Vana's Dream**

The air was crisp and the room bright with the spring sunshine filtering in the window at first light. She woke to see herself still at the bedside in the Lucky Fortune Inn. He laying there so quiet and pale with the bandages about his chest. She could only feel the grief of having been the cause of the injurious wound. Only just before had he come dashing into the Inn shouting her name wanting to know if that was a Balrog he had seen leaving the Inn out the back. Then suddenly she was safe in his arms. Oh the joy she felt in her heart to see him come for her. Terrible anger and rage suddenly taken out on the Inn and her Thalas because the Balrog had returned to find her in Thalas' arms. Thalas screaming for her to get out and away as the terrible battle waged. Her brother SmaugsBane jumping in to help Thalas as they chased the Balrog out to the meadow and the woods beyond. Tears suddenly started to flow as she saw them carrying in Thalas all bloodied and unconscious. Was it all her fault? She couldnt help but blame herself.

(She twitched in her sleep as the dream continued to pull at her heart.)

She had to leave the room but only for a moment and when she returned he was not in his bed! The horror of not knowing what had happened in just a few brief moments tore at her again. Where was Thalas? Then suddenly the startling movement by the window and the smile spread upon her face as her eyes met his! "Oh Thalas!" she had exclaimed with great joy and he held her in his arms. Though she had to be ever so gentle for the serious wound. He led her to the chair where he sat down and had her sit upon his lap so they could talk and look upon each other again. The joy that flooded her soul. The dream then darkened as if evil was just waiting for her to find joy so that it could spoil it.

A messenger came shortly after Thalas and Vana had become Knight and Lady. A messenger that brought more grief for the pair. She was being called home to marry whom her uncle King Thranduil chose for her. What terrible fates were these? Her joy torn asunder again by duty and honor. The look upon Thalas' face when she cried to him about it and he saw the letter. The hurt and pain were very plain to see even more so then the wound upon his chest. Her heart crushed as he grabbed his things and left not even saying goodby. Left to her grief .... alone!

The trip with Leoba and SmaugsBane at her side to meet her intended. Her sorrow wore heavy upon her heart again. But this elf her uncle chose proved to be a very handsome and loving elf from a noble family of Lothlorien. But alas he too would leave her alone and in a place where she wished she could die. Shortly after she had written the note and included the strands of her blonde hair to Thalas hoping to find him and bring him back to her. The long weeks and months waiting.

A joyous wedding of friends there at the Inn when another young man, a gondorian spoke such kind words to her only to give her the news of Thalas death. Her love lost to her forever! The fates were not with her when it came to love and she was now resigning to that. Every love she had ever had was destroyed or faded faster then it had started. Her heart weary of the hurt and struggle deciding to live alone and so she set out to protect her heart from ever feeling again. **

Vana startled awake in the dark. There she cried feeling the loss again...... alone .... in a strange place and with no one who would or could understand her pain. So she vowed to keep it within herself and say no more.

Wiping a hand across her face to brush the tears away she rolled over and sobbed silently in the dark! Not knowing when but crying herself to sleep once more.

The armoury was a fairly large chamber, more long than wide, with a highly polished black stone floor. The somewhat eerie atmosphere created by the glow of many torches set at intervals into the rock faced walls was only intensified by brilliant shafts of light penetrating the semi-darkness from high above in the vaulted ceiling. But what really took Alandriel's breath away was the sheer amount of war gear on display, enough to supply an army. Had she been transported back in time to the fabled armouries of Thingol? A glance over her shoulder back to where she had entered however reassured her of the presence of the knight and guard that awaited her return.

Hesitantly at first but more boldly as confidence returned with each step, she slowly paced the many rows of arms and weapons until she had completed a turn of the room. What to choose? Her life to this day had not demanded that she carry armour or heavy weapons. That, however, was about to change. Why else would Lady Elenath have given her access to this treasure trove? Wise must be her choices, taking into account her predispositions, skills and possible situations on the roads ahead. Threading her way once more over to where all kinds of armour were presented she fingered several pieces of chain mail but shook her head. These would do very well for any strong bodied and fairly tall fighter, but she, being quite small of stature needed something lighter, more manageable, less cumbersome and heavy.

Her searching gaze settled on a pile of leather items: jerkins, breeches and bracers. A closer inspection revealed them to be surprisingly pliable, giving and soft. Rummaging through the pile she soon found a jerkin, one devoid of extended shoulders like so many here, that she could wear covertly under her tunic. To test its strength Alandriel pulled out her dagger, giving it a good stab and slice before securing it in her boot again. Not a mark! Had the fine elvish engravings or the slight silver sheen something to do with that? With a content smile she noted that it fit like a second skin. Now all that was needed to complement her armour was a matching set of bracers. However, none of the ones in the pile seemed to be small enough for her. Then her eyes locked on a pair that lay almost forgotten to the side, half buried under a stack of impressive helmets of many sizes and shapes. Pulling them out gingerly in order not to upset the stash, she noticed them to be of a dull, much worn charcoal grey colour. As she picked them up, some rune-like inscription flashed for a split second but was gone in an instant. What'.? Stepping closer to the torch light she studied the arm guards in detail. She could have sworn that she had seen some engravings, but none were apparent now. The bracers felt light, yet sturdy under her probing touch. Then an unsuppresseable urge to put them on flooded through her. Slipping and fastening them over her grey-green tunic sleeves they seemed to shrink ever so slightly until they hugged tight yet not uncomfortably her wrist and forearm. A warm tingling feeling crept up both her arms but soon dissipated as an inner knowing set it: 'these were meant for you." How very strange!

Should she replace her old blade now as she had thought earlier? With what? Just another dagger, or something more'.serious, more deadly? Only unwillingly had she wielded a sword in all the years before, always having preferred bow and arrows as a more impersonal method of fighting. Her excuse had always been that she was too small in stature and not physically strong enough to make an effective swords woman. However standing now here in this magnificent hall amongst all these splendid weapons, a previously unknown power rose in her, instilling a new sense of faith in herself, banishing all previous reservations.

Yes, she had made an oath when she became a healer: 'Thou shall do no harm', and she would keep to that promise to the best of her abilities. But when attacked she would need to defend herself as well as others in whose company she would ride soon. Somehow her old and worn dagger seemed not adequate enough anymore for the tasks that lay ahead. A sword she would choose.

Her fingers trailed tentatively along the many hilts and sheaths of long swords, each more magnificent than the next, as she wandered along the long rows of stashed weapons. No! Such a weapon she would never be able to master, too massive and bulky for her. But there, towards the end of the line were several rails containing short swords.

Approaching, she gasped in amazed shock, her eyes widening with disbelief, almost rejection, as she stepped ever closer to focus on'".There, right in front of her stood the very sword, complete with belt and sheath, that had haunted her dreams; that had teased and mocked her during many confused nights, always leaving her to startle awake with a lingering feeling of yearning and a sense of foreboding. Never had she been able to understand these fantasies. But now, somehow, it became clear in her mind that she was meant to carry and wield this blade although as to the why and how she had no answers.

Could it truly be? Stunned, she blinked a few times, fearing the image might vanish into thin air - just like it had done in her reveries, each time she had reached out. But no, this was no fantasy, no trick of her mind. The sword did not vanish as she cautiously extended her arm. Alandriel slowly removed it from the stand and held it reverently in her trembling hands. For a long time her eyes wandered along the shiny, obsidian-like metal sheath, taking in the beauty of the many small red gems adorning the encasing and hilt. They glittered dangerously in the semi-darkness, awakening feelings in her she never thought she possessed. Steadying herself, she drew in a deep breath, exhaling slowly as she freed the razor sharp blade. It was a truly stunning piece of NumŽnorean blade-smithing, leaf shaped, with an icy blue tint, decorated with intertwining damascening. It had a perfectly balanced feel, she noted with cool satisfaction, as she sliced the air around her with a couple of practice swings.

Assured by an inner knowing that she had found what had been preordained, she carefully re-sheathed the sword, fastening the belt resolutely around her waist. For a moment she just stood there, relishing the feel of her new found treasures that somehow already were familiar, the exhilarating sensation of being, somehow, complete. With bold strides that clearly echoed the undaunted spirit now freely flowing through her she made for the exit.

'I have chosen and hope you will approve' she called out to Sir Feathan who had been waiting patiently.

His eyes narrowed slightly, as he took in the sight of the Eket at Alandriel's side. 'You have chosen an ancient NumŽnorean blade?" he asked, astonishment clearly ringing in his voice. 'I will need to ask Lady Elenath for final approval'.. however, for now you can keep it."

Alandriel let out a small sigh of relief. At least he had not immediately dismissed her choice as unfit.

As he escorted her back to her room she heard him mutter, quite uncharacteristically for such a serious mannered person that would not normally take to thinking aloud: 'Very strange. Somehow that woman and that sword seem to belong together. I wonder'.."

Aloud he said: 'Take time to rest and prepare for your departure tomorrow. At first light you will be woken and we expect you to be ready to leave the White City. I will have Lady Elenath or one of her assistants contact you with regard to your choice of weapon."

Alandriel nodded her understanding, and then quietly entered her chamber.

Picking up on his slight hesitation Arwen watched covertly as her mentor tore up his bread into little pieces and chewed agitatedly. She wondered what it was about his past that he was reticent to tell her but as she respected him well enough by now to know that he would not endanger them, she did not ask.

However, he seemed to still be waiting for an answer from her but she was hesitant to give it. Though it was nothing of which to be ashamed, she now felt that her many years wandering from place to place--- searching for her father, had all been in vain.

Gazing into the flickering fire, she tried to surreptitiously ease the slight soreness in her thighs. It had been many years since she'd ridden astride--- always preferring to walk, and while today's ride had not been arduous, her unused muscles protested the exercise.

Her voice was a dusky timbre when she finally answered. "I have," and she nodded though he didn't see it, "...though years have past since last my feet wandered farther than the borders of Lothl—rien. When I was younger I traveled as far south to where the Anduin flows into the Bay of Belfalas though I never went farther inland than shadows of the Ephel Dœath. Save t'was never traveling for its own sake and I was... searching."

Always searching... even now. Admit it to yourself if not to him! Arwen thought to herself then snorted self-derisively at her private musings.

"And did you find that which you sought?" his question came equally soft and when he turned his disturbingly perceptive gaze toward her, all she could do was shake her head in negation. She was relieved that he did not push for more detailed answers because she had none to give.

"To answer your question' The Onodl— is familiar to me and I have oft kept company at Thranduil's Realm, so do I know the borders of Mirkwood and its outlying lands. You needn't worry that I might find myself lost o'er these lands for I have always managed to find my way home." She reassured him in case that had been his worry.

Dirk listened in silence and when she stopped there was no other sound but the crackling of the fire in the still air and the soft snuffling of their mounts grazing in sleep. Dusting the crumbs off his tunic, he pulled his Mithril cloak closer to ward off the chill of the night.

Motioning for his charge to do the same with the Galadhrim-woven cloak she'd brought with her he told her to rest while he took the first watch and that he would awaken her when it was her turn. Placing Neleg Amlug next to his side where he would be able to reach it speedily should it be required, his keen eyes looked out into the night.

Unnerved, Arwen settled down across Sir.Dirk. She had never before had a traveling companion--- always preferring to travel alone, and the method of taking turns, as lookout was unfamiliar to her. More often than not, she'd rested at available Inns along her roads or if none were available, she could sleep as well up high in a tree as in a bed for never was it entirely safe for a solitary traveler.

Keeping her own longbow and quiver close at hand she closed her eyes and thought of the sword she'd found that morn in the armory and Mearan had told her to keep, despite her own misgivings. She hadn't had the chance to ask her mentor as yet whether or not the identical swords meant something--- if anything! And she didn't know if she even wanted to find out.

The one had been given to her by her mother when she'd first left home and the only thing she'd been told was that it had belonged to the mystery that was her sire--- whom she'd set out to find. At first she'd hoped that it would reveal something about him but it hadn't and over the years she'd kept it for protection more than any sentimental value--- or so she told herself.

The second was as much a mystery as the first and the peredhel reminded herself how much she hated such ambiguity.

Trying to clear her mind and get some rest, Arwen found that the mysterious markings refused to leave her mind and she fell into a restless sleep filled with unanswered questions.

**************************************

Sir.Dirk's light touch on her shoulder brought her back to alertness. It was still dark though she could smell the beginning of a new day in the air. Soundlessly stretching from her cramped position she prepared to take over the night's watch. She would awaken him at dawn and from then they would travel out of Rohan toward Esgaroth.

As the Knight settled down for his turn at rest, his weapon never leaving his side, Arwen pulled up her legs in a meditative position that kept her mind and body vigilant. Looking across the banked fire, her keen sight made out Sir.Dirk's form rising and falling steadily in sleep. She envied his ability to fall asleep so quickly--- for thoughts of many things had besieged her even in repose.

The stillness of the night soothed her restlessness and she looked up at the stars. Though sunrise approached, Menelvagor shone brightly still in the northern sky. Unable to take her mind off them, Arwen stealthily removed the twin blades from her saddle and unwrapped them--- perhaps the answers would come to her if she stared at them long enough; though she doubted that.

The blades reflected moon- and starlight as she ran her fingers carefully over the inscriptions. Placing them side-by-side on the grass before her, Arwen thoughtfully rested her chin in her hands and after much internal deliberation' decided to name them.

Though she must have had the first sword for over a century now, she'd never been tempted to name it, but tonight, surrounded by starlit silence she resolved that every good weapon needed a name. And she felt that both would serve her well in times to come...

The first she would name çva-aunet‘-ni --- 'Forget-me-not', because it was the unforgotten part of her father's legacy to her. And the second she'd decided, would be Enyali‘ --- 'Remembrance', because it had reminded her that she must never forget the past that made her.

The conversation of the next few days was similarly banal. Both Dirk and Arwen deftly skirted deeper issues, parrying each other's thrusting questions with ease. Dirk thought that since they would be travelling for some time together, eventually the right moment would present itself and they would get to know each other on more than a superficial level.

The morning of the forth day out of Isengard broke clear and cool. Although stormclouds darkened the skies behind them to the south, only high, thin wisps flew overhead. By mid-morn, the sun strengthened and the chill began to fade. Dirk pointed to their left.

"There is Greenwood."

Arwen followed Dirk's outstretched arm and saw upon the horizon the shadow of the eaves of the great forest.

"We will continue due north from here." He continued, "The borders of Mirkwood will angle to meet us. Hopefully, if the weather holds out, we will ride along the banks of the Celduin in three days' time. Then, after two or three more days, we will pass the Old Forest road and the Emyn-nu-Fuin , and come to the Long Lake and Esgaroth, where my father will put us up in soft beds and feed us roasted venison and the finest stout ale in all Middle-earth!"

Dirk seemed renewed, reinvigorated. He rode now with mirth and actually sang a song or two in his unflattering guttural voice. Arwen followed along behind a few paces, taking in the new scenery and contemplating the mood swings of her mentor Knight.

They ate their midday meal in the open. Dirk chatted seemingly endlessly about his childhood in Laketown and his five brothers that she would meet when they got there.

Later that afternoon, they rode cheerily along, for Dirk's mood had begun to grow upon the peredhel. Suddenly, without a word, she sprung past Dirk and Endl—m‘ at full gallop. Dirk spurred his stallion and had no trouble catching up to her.

"What is it?" he shouted, reading alarm in her facade.

She pointed wordlessly ahead of them. Dirk strained his eyes and saw a horse milling about aimlessly beside the game trail that currently served as their road. A dark shape lay in the grass beside the trail. Her half-elven sight had spotted the downed rider before he could have.

They reached the scene in a matter of moments and dismounted before their horses had come to a stop. As they approached, Dirk espied the unmistakable midnight blue of his cloak - the fallen rider was a Mithril Knight. He knelt beside him and pressed his ear against the man's chest.

"He lives."

Arwen knelt also, pulling back the cloak to reveal the deeply-embedded shaft of an orc arrow. It had struck him just above the waist on the right side.

"He has lost much blood." She said, "I am no healer, but I have some rudimentary training. Would you please fetch my pack, Sir Dirk. I have some linen that I could dress the wound with and herbs for the pain."

Dirk, knowing very little of healing himself, became the apprentice and obeyed the half-elf's request, running to her horse and returning with her pack.

He arrived once again at her side just in time to see her remove the dart with a great effort.

"It's just barely nicked the larger blood vessels. I can keep the bleeding to a minimum." She grabbed Dirk's hand and placed it over the wound. "Hold pressure here. Don't let up."

She rummaged through her pack and removed a few leaves. These she placed in her mouth and chewed a bit, wrinkling her nose. She reached down, removed Dirk's hand, and packed the wound with the bitter leaves. She followed this with a pad of clean linen.

"It will only slow the bleeding. But it should suffice for long enough to get him to a real house of healing. Where should be go?"

Dirk contemplated for a moment the distances between there and Thranduil's hall, but then settled his mind, "Lothlorien. If he can survive the back of a running horse, we can make it in thirty-six hours."

They then carefully lashed the man to his horse and tethered the horse to Endl—m‘.

They traveled with all the speed they dared muster due west until they skirted the eaves of the forest. Making a wide arc around the southern reaches of Greenwood, (Dirk surmised that though it took them off of the straight-line path to the Golden Wood, it would still be faster than picking their way through the dense trees) they found themselves upon the opposite bank of the Anduin, just above where it met the Celebrant. It had taken a little longer than he surmised, but the trio arrived mid-morning, forty hours after they found the fallen knight. They were exhausted and hungry, for they dared not stop, except to re-dress the man's wound, until now. Dirk and Arwen dismounted and approached the shore, allowing the horses to drink.

"Our approach would not have gone unnoticed. I imagine that if we wait, the Galadrim will greet us."

As if on queue, a small boat with a swan's head on the prow broke the mist and crossed the river towards them. Before it landed, a tall elf called out from the boat.

"Hail Mithril Knight. What brings you to the border fo the Golden Wood?"

Dirk saw that it was none other than Galathil, the elf who had challenged him on the southern border only two months ago, when he came to begin his own training to become a Knight.

"Mae govannen, Galathil. You undoubtedly recognize Arwen Sol, for she hails from Lothlorien."

"I do, Mae gavannen, Hiril."

"The lady is now training under me to be a Mithril Knight." He pointed to where the horses stood with their long necks still craned towards the cold water of the Great River. "We were on our way to the Guildhouse at Erebor on an errand of the Mithril Knights when we came upon this wounded Knight. L—rien was the closest place we could travel to save his life. I would love to reminisce, but we run short of time and must get him to the healers among your people."

"I understand, mellon. Please, take the boat and I will see that your horses are ferried across behind you. It is good to see you wearing the Cloak, Sir Dirk."

They gingerly removed the Knight from his saddle and laid him into the boat. Once across the river, they found that a small contingent of elves waited. They had seen what transpired on the other bank and made all haste in transporting the fallen Knight to Caras Galadhon. There he was given a room in the Guildhouse and the finest healers in L—rien were brought to treat him.

Lord Elbren was notified before their arrival of what had transpired and had already arrived. It was he who had the room made ready and the healers summoned. The Guildmaster disappeared into the room with the healers and the injured Mithril Knight, leaving Dirk and Arwen in the hall.

An hour later, he emerged, followed by the healers.

"He will live. He is resting now, as you should be. You have done a fine job in saving this knight from death. It is very fortunate that you came upon him when you did."

"Do you know him?" asked Dirk.

"Aye, I cannot recall his name just now, but he is a newer Knight, based out of the Erebor guildhouse." The Lord's face softened, "There is much to discuss, but first you need food and rest. Do not worry, I will summon you the moment he awakes."

He patted Dirk on the back heartily, turned and strode down the hall. Two elves in fine white livery led them to separate rooms where hot baths, fresh food and comfortable beds awaited them.

Elenath had wanted to be there when her charges chose their weapons, but she found her time taken up with the preparations. She decided to send Feathan to watch over them instead, and to inspect their choices in the morning. Later, he returned, and told her about Alandriel's sword. Elenath looked at him thoughtfully. "Yes, that is interesting... And you felt it to be a true match?"

Feathan nodded. "It felt as if it was made for her, and she was already quite attached to it."

"Yes... Thank you for your help, Feathan." He bowed and left, leaving Elenath to her thoughts. A Numenorean blade... and a woman who already had a mystery to be solved. She shook her head, putting her thoughts aside for the moment. She still had much to do tonight, and the morning would come soon enough.

----------------

Alandriel and Vanaladiel were woken early, just as the sun was rising. They were instructed to bring their bags, and to join the Lady Elenath for breakfast shortly. They were led to the same room where they had eaten with their mentor before, arriving there at the same time. Elenath was standing by the table, waiting for them.

"Good morning to both of you. I hope you slept well?" They both nodded, although Elenath thought that Vanaladiel's eyes belied her. "Good. I know that you both chose weapons from the armory yesterday: may I see them?" She indicated the table next to her.

Vanaladiel stepped forward first, and lay on the table a sword, a small dagger, and a quiver of arrows. Elenath looked closely at all of them, drawing the sword from its scabbard, and inspecting the arrows as well. She smiled at Vanaladiel.

"You have chosen well! These are very well-crafted, and should serve you quite well. May they keep you safe in the years to come." Then she turned to Alandriel, who, with some hesitation, laid the sword she had chosen on the table. Elenath ran her hand over the red jewels on the scabbard, then slowly drew the leaf-shaped blade. She examined it in silence for a few moments, then looked at Alandriel.

"Is there any particular reason you chose this blade?" she asked. Alandriel hesitated for a long moment before answering.

"I have seen a sword like this one in my dreams, Lady Elenath. Exactly like this one, down to the last details. And it... it just feels right... I don't know how to explain it."

Elenath nodded, re-sheating the blade. "It is an unusual blade, Alandriel. May it serve you well." Elenath's lips twitched as Alandriel sighed in relief. "Now, let us eat. We will leave as soon as we have finished."

-------------------

The three ate quickly. When they had finished, Elenath led them to the stables, where Elenath's and Vanaladiel's horses were already saddled and waiting. Alandriel, having left her horse outside the city, would walk with them down to the Gate. Elenath leapt lightly onto her horse, casting a quick eye over everything. She nodded approvingly, then led the way out of the stable and down through the city.

By the time she had finally crawled into bed, it was almost morning. Tempest had informed Finn and Athelos that they would be leaving tomorrow, but, seeing as how late it had become, she agreed to wait until it was later in the day before they departed. She was particulary anxious to go, despite Athelos' urging to wait a few days. What she hadn't told the others was that she had a feeling, almost a premonition that time was running out. She was certain that, as it was, Finneran and she would have difficulty making their way to Lothlorien. She was convinced now that Finn would make an able warrior, but even the greatest warrior cannot win against overwhelming numbers of orcs and dwarves. She just hoped they would be able to slip by unnoticed. She had selected the two swiftest horses in the stables, though she wondered whether Finn, being from Rohan, had brought his own horse with him.

Lothlorien.

She had only been in the Golden Wood once before and its beauty still lingered in the recesses of her mind. If they could make it there alive, it would be like stepping into a dream. Her son was also there, and it had been too long since last she saw him.

She realized suddenly that she had not asked Finneran about his family, and she wondered if he was married, or had children of his own. "What a terrible mentor you are," she chided herself again. "He probably wishes he had never petitioned the Guild in the first place. You really must try to make an effort to be pleasant. What will Elbren think when he hears how you dueled with him within a few minutes of introduction. It's absolutely appalling."

Vana lay the sword, the daggar and the quiver of arrows down before Lady Elenath and then stepped back as her mentor examined them. Lady Elenath smiled at Vana as she looked over her choices.

"You have chosen well! These are very well-crafted, and should serve you quite well. May they keep you safe in the years to come."

Vana then bowed to her mentor and picked up the weapons with pride for they were now hers to keep and learn to wield well in battle. She stepped back again out of the way as Alandriel took her chosen weapons and placed them before their mentor.

"Is there any particular reason you chose this blade?" she asked. Alandriel hesitated for a long moment before answering.

"I have seen a sword like this one in my dreams, Lady Elenath. Exactly like this one, down to the last details. And it... it just feels right... I don't know how to explain it."

Elenath nodded, re-sheating the blade. "It is an unusual blade, Alandriel. May it serve you well." Elenath's lips twitched as Alandriel sighed in relief. "Now, let us eat. We will leave as soon as we have finished."

Having accepted the choices that the two trainees had made and having eaten their breakfast, they prepared to set off. Going to the stables Vana greeted her faithful steed Glory, a beautiful golden palamino. Glory nuzzles with her for a moment then Vana placed her blanket and harness to the horse. Finally getting her bow and satchel with her meager possessions she mounted Glory and waited for the final word to proceed to the gate to leave Minas Tirith behind.

The traveling party of Dwarves waited just outside of the gates to Minas Tirith, their two wagons heavily laden with their cargo from the Lonely Mountain. The journey had been long, but it was nearing its end with Dol Amroth only days away now.

The leader of the Dwarves, Dalchar, stood with his hands upon his hips, staring at the gates of Minas Tirith, apparently scrutinizing the recent repair work.

"Ho there! We need to get through! Move your wagons!"

Dalchar turned to see a group of Human merchants attempting to enter the city but holding back their own wagons and waving at him.

"What's the problem, mate? Plenty o' room for ya to enter!" Dalchar called back, slightly annoyed.

"We need a bit more room! Move your wagons, Dwarf!"

"I won't move my wagons! Ya have plenty of room ta enter; just come around a bit!" Dalchar retorted.

"What part aren't you getting, Dwarf? MOVE YOUR WAGONS!"

The voices finally rose to shouts and attracted the attention of the gate guards...

Upon hearing that the injured knight would eventually recover, the ashen pall that had fallen across Arwen's features as she'd watched him disappear into the infirmary, lifted. Relieved, she listened and tried to unobtrusively fade into the shadows as Lord Elbren greeted her mentor and the two men exchanged words.

Though he did not openly acknowledge her, Arwen knew that the Guildmaster was quite aware of her presence and when Sir. Dirk turned to follow the liveried elves, she unhesitatingly did as well. Distantly, she thought it ironic that she'd left here only a few short days ago and her journey had brought her full circle and she wondered if her mother was still residing within the Golden Wood.

Walking down the gilded halls, Dirk surreptitiously watched the storm of emotions paraded clearly on the peredhel's expressive face as they walked. And he might have guessed a little at her feelings about coming home for he tactfully kept his mouth closed.

The two white-blonde elves stopped in the hallway and motioned them into two opposite rooms in the guest area. Dirk waved Arwen into one, indicating that he would take the other then watched as she spoke with them quietly in the elvish tongue, her emerald eyes less veiled in the company of her own people. Once they'd left, he gave his knight-in-training a laconic grin and entered his room, shutting the door firmly behind him. As his eyes adjusted to the dimmer interior his ingrained sense of preservation sought out a variety of escape routes, just in case.

Walking into her own room, Arwen had no such compunction as she'd lived in L—rien most her life and did not fear attack. She realized that her own personal rooms were located elsewhere, more toward the heart of the city, but she had not protested when she was led to a guest wing--- that was another part of her life, that, for now would be separate from the task at hand.

Stripping out of her stiff, dusty clothing, she unwound her hair from its braid and stepped into the silver tub of steaming hot water. Her muscles were still tense from the recent flight to LothloriŽn, especially since she'd been worried about the wounded man's survival. She'd never before used her healing knowledge in such a drastic situation though in her early years she'd been trained, as all her people were, in the art.

Arwen hadn't realized that she'd dozed off; until a resounding knock on her door startled her awake, causing her to spill some of her now chilled bath-water onto the floor rugs. Struggling to pull on a set of clean garments from her pack, she wrung the extra water from her long hair and opened the door. Sir. Dirk stood without, himself looking freshly washed and rested though his mouth was set in a grim line.

'Come," he commanded, then turned on his heel to walk down the way they'd come earlier. Trying to ignore the uncomfortable dampness of her hair at the nape of her neck as well as the line of water she was trailing behind her, Arwen could do nothing else but follow his lead.

Lord Elbren awaited them in the corridor. He stood at a closed door and greeted them.

"Hail, Sir Dirk. And greetings, Arwen. Under different circumstances, I would greet you properly, with food and drink and conversation, however, we must forgo such pleasantries." He turned to Dirk, "The knight you brought in is called Beland. He is the son of a Dale toymaker and about your age. He has been a Knight less than a year. He caught an orc arrow in the shoulder, which he managed to remove himself with much damage. But the dart contained a poison from which it will take weeks to recover. I have spoken with him, but I think it better that you, Dirk, hear his message first hand. He is sedated now and weak from the poison, so he may drift in and out of sleep. Also he suffers from fever; but he is in command of his wits."

Elbren pushed the door open and ushered them to Beland's bedside.

"Sir Beland," the Knight opened his eyes and focused on the Guildmaster, "This is Sir Dirk, and Hiril Arwen Sol, his Knight in Training. It was they who found you upon the road."

Beland turned his head with much effort and smiled wanly at his rescuers.

"I thank you." he whispered.

Elbren stepped back, allowing Dirk to lean in close enough to hear the sick man. "Sir Beland, please tell them what you told me. Give them your news of Dale."

"Dirk?"

"Yes?"

"Son of Drake, from Laketown?"

"Yes. Beland it is I."

The feverish man's face twisted in confusion as he searched Dirk for any resemblance to his stocky, blond, fair-skinned foster father.

"Drake, and his sons - his other sons - marched with five hundred men from Esgaroth to help defend Dale and Erebor. When I left, they fought against thrice their number in the east of town, where orcs and dwarves have crossed the River Running and are ransacking the town."

The attendant, a female elven healer, wiped his sweaty brow as Beland closed his eyes and drew a deep breath. Dirk leaned in closer. He was visibly shaken by the news and anxious to hear more.

"They lived still when I left, but were being driven westwards, toward the main force of the Red Hammer." It was the first time he mentioned the name, and Dirk sucked his breath between his teeth. "West of Dale, the gates of Erebor and the Mithril Knight Guildhouse are beseiged by Red Hammer Dwarves. By now, it is likely that the whole of the people of Dale and the brave men of Laketown are surrounded and being pressed against the rock of the Lonely Mountain."

Again the weakened Knight paused to rest.

"Sir Dirk." Dirk knelt, allowing Beland to whisper into his ear. He lifted his head from the pillow and reached out for Dirk's shoulder. "Go. Save our people. I was sent to find help - to find the Mithril Knights - to find you. You must stop the Red Hammer."

Dirk was at once angry, enraged nearly enough to storm Dale alone, and humbled. He felt tiny and helpless. He was but one man - one young man who commanded no one. One of the newest in the Order of Mithril Knights, who as yet carried no stature among them. Beland fell back upon his pillow; his eyes pleadingly searched Dirk's.

"Yes," Dirk said, reaching out to the man's hand, "I will go. I will do what I can."

Beland smiled and closed his eyes. Within seconds, his breathing became regular and he was fast asleep. His elven nurse then shooed the three of them out of the room. In the hall, Dirk, with Arwen silently by his side, beseeched Elbren.

"Lord Elbren, what can I do? I must go to my people, my father. But alone I can do nothing. Will the Mithril Knights help?"

"I have heard Beland's tale, but I must consult with the wise of the Galadrim and the other Mithril Knights. At sunset, we shall hold a council in the main hall of the Guilhouse to decide what we will do. Until then, gather your thoughts and rest, if you can." He turned to Arwen, "Lady, you, too should rest. You are tied to Sir Dirk for the time being and whither he goes, so shall you. I think that before long, you shall find that rest and safety are unavailable luxuries."

With that, they split. Elbren left the Guilhouse for the chambers of Celeborn and the wise of Lorien. Arwen made for what Dirk assumed to be her room. And Dirk left the center of the Elven city, to walk quietly among the Mallorns at the outskirts of Caras Galadhon, until the time of the council.

When Tempest awoke, the sun was shining cheerily into her window and she could tell from the slant of the rays that it was already near noon. She sat up cautiously in her bed, for a strange foreboding lingered in her mind, as one waking from a terrible dream but unable to remember it. She had lived too long not to trust premonitions, for truth is often understood in the shadows of dreams. All she knew was that she was suddenly afraid and wished to be gone.

As she dressed quickly, she noted that the fatigue of yesterday had melted into a dull ache, but she felt much refreshed and her mind was sharp. Still, she could not shake the urgency she felt to leave Edoras, so before going downstairs she rapped several times on Finn's door. She waited for a moment, but there was no noise within. She tried the handle and opened the door to an empty room. Of course, it was already late. He was probably downstairs waiting for her so that they could depart. She went back to her room and hastily gathered her things. She almost ran into Athelos and managed a muffled apology before asked where Finn had gone.

'He's waiting for you in the stables. He's been up for hours. Did you sleep well?"

'I'm fine. We're leaving now and should hopefully reach Lothlorien by tomorrow. Something tells me the tide has turned against us. Edoras might yet fall within the grasp of the Red Hammer. Be careful, Athelos. Be prepared to flee at all hours. Keep a horse always ready." Tempest cautioned.

Athelos smiled. 'I always do. But I am more concerned about your safety. We have heard reports of roving bands of dwarves and orcs and most communication with Lorien has been severed. We do not even know if Elbren and the others made it there safely. "

'We will be on our guard. Good luck to you, Athelos. May we meet again soon."

The messenger arrived from Thranduil's Halls that same afternoon and delivered the news from Thranduil and his son, Legolas: A request for aid had been received from Erebor. Men and Dwarf alike were in need and already some villages had been destroyed entirely.

Elbren read the parchment a third time and then placed it upon the table before him. The Red Hammer was strong in the North...and growing stronger. The Elven Lord stood and walked to the ornately carved door and opened it quietly; just outside in the hallway of the Guild House, three Mithril Knights turned in anticipation.

"Prepare a summons to be sent to all Guild and Safe Houses. We are needed in Erebor. All who can come should make for Thranduil's Halls and the Guild House of Mirkwood," Elbren hesitated a moment, "send word to the Border Guard to keep a close eye out for travelers..." his eyes stared past and through the other Knights for a moment, as if seeing something far away, but then he simply said, "double the watch."

As Elenath, Vanaladiel and Alandriel neared the Gate, they heard shouting ahead. Elenath exchanged puzzled looks with the others, then nudged her horse forward. As she neared the gates, she saw one of the guards leave his post and head toward a group of dwarves, who seemed to be arguing with some merchants behind them. Elenath swore under her breath, and trotted her horse down to meet them. The merchants were complaining loudly to the guard, but they broke off when the elf pulled up her horse next to the dwarves.

"Would you be Dalchar?" she asked the leader of the dwarves.

He nodded curtly, glancing at her cloak. "Aye, and you would be Lady Elenath?"

Elenath nodded, then turned to the merchants and the guard, directing her question to all those present. "Now what exactly is going on here?"

Athelos accompanied Tempest out into the sables where Finneran was waiting. His back to them and he was standing by the entrance looking out upon the western road. Tempest was about to speak when he lifted his hand.

'Someone's coming," he observed.

'Is that so unusual?"

'He rides in haste."

Tempest joined him and peered out at the approaching figure.

'It's a messenger," she noted, immediately interested.

______________________________________________________________________

Athelos glanced over the contents in surprise. 'It is a summons," she said gravely. 'All able Knights are to make for Thranduil's Halls and the Guild House of Mirkwood. It seems we are needed in Erebor."

'War is coming, and indeed has already come to the North. We shall feel its trickle down affect here before long," Tempest said. She glanced at Finn. 'Rohan may yet fall under the shadow." She paused and an unspoken question seemed to lay between them. After a moment had passed, Tempest said softly, 'Now is not the time for training. Go back to your family, Finn. They will have need of you in the coming days. Rohan will need you too."

She saw the hesitation in his eyes. 'When this is over, I will send word to you and we will begin again. But now is not the time."

He seemed to accept this reluctantly, but realizing the danger posed to Rohan and his family that he had left behind, he saw the wisdom in her words and, after wishing her all speed and safety, went back into the Guildhouse.

Athelos studied Tempest's face. 'Where will you go?"

'Lothlorien. My path remains the same."

'I fear for you."

'Athelos, if something should happen to me, I would have you know what I found in Mordor. Sauron kept very few things of Morgoth, but he had a symbol, a large hammer that hung in his innermost chamber. 'The Hammer of the Underworld' is what the history books call it. I looked it up in our library and little is said except that it smote Fingolfin before the gates of Angband. But, I do not think it only speaks of that. It is a symbol of a different time. The mace in itself means little, but it represents the strength of Morgoth as he strode to possess the Silmarils."

'And you think this has a connection to Saruman?"

'I don't know, but this power that Saruman uses, it is an ancient power, and I fear there are few left in Middle Earth who understand it, since most have departed for the Undying Lands."

______________________________________________________________________

Tempest rode hard, her horse's hooves seeming to barely touch the ground. Night fell swiftly, but still she rode, not willing to stop until she was within the Golden Wood. She did not know she was in trouble until her horse reared up suddenly, nearly throwing her. Her only glimpse of the enemy was the dark form that came flying at her from the ground.

Her horse screamed in panic as several other dark shapes leaped at his throat. Tempest was busy trying to draw her sword and avoid the snapping jaws of the wolf that had lunged up at her. She found her dagger out and plunged it repeatedly into the wolf's side, but it wasn't until she pierced its lung that it gave a howl of pain and fell lifeless to the ground.

She managed to kill a few more creatures before her horse found its footing and fled, its throat slick with blood and the saliva of the wolves. The onslaught continued most of the night, for the wargs followed behind and gave the wounded horse no rest. Tempest herself had received several slashes, though none of them deep. Most had been deflected by her armor. Every time they would stop to catch their breath, the wargs were upon them again. Her horse had taken the worst of it; large pieces of his flesh hung open and bleeding in the moonlight. His breath was labored and a white froth lingered around his gasping mouth. Fear alone gave him endurance, for he had already felt the sharp bite of his enemies, and he did not want to fall under their power again.

When they were finally within sight of the woods, Tempest looked back and noticed a black feathered arrow sticking out of her horse's flank. So, they were being followed not by wargs alone, though she saw no other creatures with them. They must be there, somewhere in the darkness watching her, or giving directions to the wargs.

Her horse was near exhaustion from haste and loss of blood when they stumbled under the comforting leaves of the Golden Wood. She might have wept if she could have mustered the tears, but instead Tempest managed to whisper 'Take care of my horse," before she collapsed, blood-caked and trembling into the arms of the elven watchmen.

Dalchar nodded at the Human merchants behind his own company, "They seem ta think that we're in their way, but no matter, you're here and we'll happily move along now and make for Dol Amroth."

The Dwarf motioned to his companions to prepare to ride, and to Elenath, Dalchar said quietly, "We have heard strange tales upon the road South...tales of a Dwarven enemy and the wielder of the Red Hammer. I suggest that we make all haste to Dol Amroth for I fear that the South, too, will soon find the roads unsafe for travel."

Much of the evening Alandriel had spent in silent broodings. The brooch, the gauntlets and the sword'.No doubt there was a connection. It all somehow fit, like pieces in a puzzle. Yet all her attempts at trying to make sense of the slowly emerging picture failed.

Nobody came that night. Whether or not she'd be allowed to keep the Eket she'd find out in the morning.

A knock on the door woke her from her disjointed dreams. She rose with a start, instantly awake, and received instructions to make ready for departure. Quickly she dressed, strapping on the jerkin under her tunic, fastening the dark grey bracers, putting on her boots before her eyes came to rest lovingly on the Eket. With slow, almost reverent movements she traced her finger along the gem studded sheath then resolutely fastened the sword belt around her slender hips. Hoisting her light travel pack over one shoulder she strode for the corner by the door to retrieve her bow and quiver and finally her saddle. She was ready.

Moments later she joined Vana in the corridor and both women were led to the breakfast room. After greetings were exchanged Lady Elenath asked to inspect the weapons they had chosen. Vana stepped forward first and received a commendation. Then, with hesitation that almost bordered on reluctance, Alandriel unstrapped her belt and laid the short sword on the table. Long moments of silence passed as Lady Elenath examined the weapon. After a short exchange the elf eventually nodded, much to Alandriel's relief: ""It is an unusual blade, Alandriel. May it serve you well."

Breakfast was finished promptly and they made for the stables. Seeing a large box strapped secure on a chart elicited raised eyebrows and several frowns from both trainees but they thought better of asking questions. Alandriel took position on the chart while Lady Elenath and Vana mounted their horses, the former taking hold of the lead rope of the pack horse. A short ride through the winding streets brought them near the gates. Suddenly, raised voices and angry shouts rang out from the gates. After exchanging surprised glances Lady Elenath tossed the lead rope of the chart horse to Alandriel and approached the site of clamour. While Vana guided her horse closer cautiously, the ranger followed suit now having control of the wagon.

Although Alandriel could not survey the situation properly from her situation, she overheard the exchange between her mentor and several people, one of which spoke with a low, growling voice. As the angry merchants dissipated somewhat her line of sight cleared and she saw a stout, sour faced dwarf standing amidst a company of dwarfs. There were also two heavily laden wagons.

'So, that is Dalchar' the ranger mused silently now being able to put the previously noted name to a face.

'And that seems to be the bulk of the shipment of arms Lady Elenath had mentioned."

Dwarves. Although she never had had direct dealings with them she could not help but feel an instantaneous dislike; creatures that spend most of their time digging up riches from the pits of the earth. The very thought sent a cold shiver down her spine. Unbeknownst to her, the silver pin she carried fastened to the inside of her tunic had grown warmer yet; the leather jerkin she had strapped on for the first time this morning preventing the slight increase in temperature to be noticeable.

After a short regroup the company was ready to proceed and Elenath took the lead together with Dalchar, exchanging a few hushed words. Vana and Alandriel followed with the rest of the dwarves and their two wagons. Probably some 30 strong, the ranger estimated. They rode in silence for some time, Vana casting curious glances at the sour faced dwarfs, Alandriel pointedly ignoring them.

When they were a good distance out of town, the ranger gave the chart horse an encouraging whip, answering Vana's questioning look as she rode past her: 'I don't particularly favour riding like this. Now that we have put some miles between us and the White City, I will find my friend."

Smoothly she brought the chart alongside Elenath and then, with a wink, tossed the lead rope into her hands. 'I'll catch up with you shortly' she called, as she jumped from the chart, the saddle already tossed over its side. Elenath grabbed hold of the ropes and retorted humorously:'Don't feel like being part of the baggage, do you?"

The ranger laughed at the comment as the company rode by. When the dust settled, she picked up the saddle and gave it a few good blows. Then she stood and put two fingers in her mouth. A loud whistle rang out over the plain, answered after a minute of silence by a spirited neigh. Moments later she was nuzzled by her dark brown stallion. 'Missed me, have you?" she teased the great beast, as she ran her hand lovingly along his strong muscled neck. Ethalon stamped his hooves impatiently as she secured the saddle and travel pack. 'My sentiments precisely my friend; let's get on the road'.

Having heard the noise of raised voices as the three women approached the gate of the city, Lady Elenath handed the wagon reigns to Alandriel and then she rode on ahead to check out the scene before them.

Vana unable, even on the back of her golden palomino, to tell what all was happening but it involved several dwarves and men. One dwarf imparticular was very put out by the men. His growls and grumblings could be heard by all present. The Lady Elenath spoke with the dwarf and soon they seemed to be willing to settle things and be on their way.

As the dwarven wagons pulled out, Alandriel riding the wagon and Vana riding her horse beside the cart trailed behind at the end of the now grown train of wagons. Quietly Vana surveyed the group trying to place who was in their chain of command. Several dwarves with several wagons, as well as the three ladies headed off to the East along the mountains. Shortly Alandriel smiled at Vana and snapped the reigns to hurry the wagon up to Lady Elenath, then tossed her the reigns to the wagon and jumped off after tossing her saddle off the wagon.

Vana pulled her horse up short to see what Alandriel was up to. When Alandriel whistled and a neigh from some distance away started to move closer, Vana knew that she was calling her faithful horse companion. Vana smiled to see the two reunited and knowing they would both be happier now together.

After securing the saddle on her beautiful friend, Alandriel mounted and joined Vana as the two took up their place once more at the back of the procession headed East. Time dragged on as they continued their march to the East before heading to the south and on to Dol Amroth.

Vana started to hum a song then slowly and quietly started to sing.

An Elvin-maid there was of old,
A shining star by day:
Her mantle white was hemmed in gold,
Her shoes of silver-grey.

A star was bound upon her brows,
A light was on her hair
As sun upon the golden boughs
In Lorien the fair.

Her hair was long, her limbs were white,
And fair she was and free;
And in the wind she went as light
As Leaf of linden-tree.

Beside the falls of Nimrodel,
By water clear and cool,
Her voice as falling silver fell
Into the shining pool.

Where now she wanders none can tell,
In sunlight or in shade;
For lost of yore was Nimrodel
And in the mountains strayed.

The elven-ship in haven grey
Beneath the mountains-lee
Awaited her for many a day
Beside the roaring sea.

A wind by night in Northern lands
Arose, and loud it cried,
And drove the ship from elven-strands
Across the streaming tide.

When dawn came dim the land was lost,
The mountains sinking grey
Beyond the heaving waves that tossed
Their plumes of blinding spray.

Amroth beheld the fading shore
Now low beyond the swell,
And cursed the faithless ship that bore
Him far from Nimrodel.

Of old he was an Elven-king,
A lord of tree and glen,
When golden were the boughs in spring
In fair Lothlorien.

From helm to sea they saw him leap
As arrow from the string,
And dive into the water deep,
As mew upon the wing.

The wind was in his flowing hair,
The foam about him shone;
Afar they saw him strong and fair
Go riding like a swan.

But from the West has come no word,
And on the Hither Shore
No tidings Elven-folks have heard
Of Amroth evermore.

Vana trailed off her singing though the sound of her voice was very soothing, the sad song did not bring her peace of heart this day. She fell silent and remained that way for a while as they continued to plod along the road.

Vana didnt know if there was any need to be on guard and listening for anything that would be a warning but she did anyways. Setting on her friend she looked relaxed almost as if she was drowsily resting with her hood pulled up but actually she was listening intently to the conversations of the dwarves, trying to learn if there had been any trouble with the shipment so far from outsiders. Her senses were on high alert but no one would have guessed. Her right hand rested on her thigh only inches away from her dagger and sword, her left hand holding the reigns loosely for her horse. Her bow in front of her and her bow string pouch strapped for easy and swift removal at her belt, her quiver full and within easy reach should the need arise.

The Dwarves did not ride horses, but instead rode in their wagons. They were all armed in mail coats and their axes were never far away from their grasp; to the Mithril Knights, the Dwarves did indeed appear to be on alert and easily agitated.

"Well, lass," Dalchar said as they rode along, well within earshot of the two Knights in Training, "there were rumours last year that some Dwarves came from the East and had settled into an old fortress in the Iron Hills," the Dwarf grumbled something and then went on, "but we never heard nor saw any sign of'em."

"That's ridiculous," said another Dwarf, "they ARE Dwarves...how would we KNOW if we had seen them or not?"

"Eh, well, the lad is right. Turns out they must have been mingling with our own folk and, in the end, they stole the Arkenstone...along with other things from the tombs below the Lonely Mountain. Odd...I don't know what one would do with some of those things."

"Sell them," retorted the younger Dwarf again.

"You canna sell the Arkenstone! No one has enough money in all of Middle Earth...besides, whomever laid claim to it would know that the Dwarves would be upon them. It would be just a matter of time." Dalchar reached into a pouch tied to his belt and drew out his pipe, "but it wasn't just the Arkenstone that was taken. Other precious jewels, weapons...always things that were rumoured to have come from Belegost long ago."

"Nothin survived that," said another Dwarf, "that's nonsense, Dalchar."

Dalchar shrugged and packed his pipe, "Think what ye like, lads..and ladies....but some of ole Smaug's treasure went back to long, long ago..."

A cry ahead caused them all to stop the conversation and look towards the road as it stretched out before them.

"What's tha' ?" Dalchar muttered.

Three riders were rapidly approaching, well armed and wearing the badges of Gondor.

The crispness of the morning slowly faded and with it the stark shadows of the nearby rugged mountains as the company continued their journey at a leisurely walk.

Alandriel would have preferred a more brisk ride, but since they were in a convoy of wagons this was not possible. As the sun rose every higher, they eventually left behind the Emyn Arnen, entering the fertile valleys and hills dotted here and there with small settlements. Soon they would reach the bridge over the river Erui, still following the South Road that would eventually lead them to Pelargir. It had been many years since she had travelled in these parts of South Ithilien and she wondered, whether Lady Elenath would lead them via the ancient Gondorian port city. She had only seen it once from afar.

Vana's song had brought smiles to Alandriel's face yet had failed to dispel the ranger's uneasiness. They were riding towards the back of the convoy and Alandriel enjoyed the warming rays, eventually relaxing and settling into the unfamiliar tempo of the journey.

For lack of anything better to do, she concentrated on the dwarvish conversations and bickerings issuing from the wagons around the two trainees, trying to understand the heavy and rough language, watching their strange behaviour and antics. It was no use. Their language was far removed from Westron, Rohirrim and Sindarin, the three tongues she was familiar with. Not being able to make any sense of their mutterings, Alandriel eventually reverted to her own musings. However, as her train of thought was repeatedly interrupted by dwarfish outburst and rantings, she spurred on her horse ill-temperately, falling in behind Lady Elenath at the front of the company. Maybe she would be able to learn something from her mentor's ongoing conversations with Dalchar. At least they were speaking in Westron. Vana followed to take up a position alongside her, disconcerted somewhat at the Ranger's sudden move.

"".there were rumours last year that some Dwarves came from the East and had settled into an old fortress in the Iron Hills," she heard Dalchar say "but we never heard nor saw any sign of'em."

And then, after an interjection from another Dwarf: "Eh, well, the lad is right. Turns out they must have been mingling with our own folk and, in the end, they stole the Arkenstone...along with other things from the tombs below the Lonely Mountain. Odd...I don't know what one would do with some of those things."

As the two dwarves continued their conversation, Alandriel saw that Lady Elenath's expression had changed to a stern and concerned look. Then a cry ahead caused all talk to cease and Alandriel, along with Lady Elenath and Vana, abruptly stopped their horses. The company behind them came to a grumbling and grinding halt, angry shouts ringing out from the dwarves behind them at the suddenness of the halt.

Alandriel stood in her saddle to see three riders approach at full gallop, the noon sun sending sparks flying off their armour and weapons. As the neared, they drew their mounts to a hasty halt in front of the convoy and the ranger recognized their livery: Gondorians from the southern contingent.

'What necessitates such speed? You nearly rode us down." Lady Elenath called out to the man wearing the insignia of a captain.

'We bear ill news that must reach the ears of the King immediately." The captain retorted, impatiently drawing the reigns of his nervous horse.

'What ill news?" Elenath probed, her voice concerned. 'We ride with a convoy of arms to Dol Amroth and if there is trouble in the south we have need to know."

'Very well then' the captain answered, having recognized the Mithril cloak Lady Elenath was wearing. 'Five Haradrim spies were apprehended in Port Pelargir yesterday and a plot to attack the south was uncovered. If their information is correct, an army of Southrons will cross the Poros within days. We need to call for re-enforcements immediately." Then he added urgently: 'Forgive me, but we must be on our way."

With that, the captain raised his hand and urged his two companions on. They quickly picked up speed and disappeared in a small cloud of dust behind a range of hills.

'Ill news indeed', Alandriel heard Lady Elenath mutter, as the Elf pondered this information and then motioned the company once more on their way. The dwarves exchanged disconcerted glances and reverted to their grumblings.

Alandriel exchanged disturbed looks with Vana as they picked up their walk again but neither of them spoke. Seeing that Lady Elenath was much absorbed in her own ponderings both trainees also took once more to their own thoughts.

The arkenstone, stolen along with other dwarf treasures? Part of Alandriel's education had entailed to familiarize herself with the ancient lore of Middle Earth. Yes, she knew of the legends surrounding the Arkenstone but certainly had never paid much heed to the history and tangled connections of dwarves. There had always been something about them that made her loath them, a dark feeling that certainly had not been conducive to further her ability to retain the finer details of their history. As far as she remembered the Arkenstone was somewhere in the North, in Erebor, supposedly in their possession. Now, if those rumours where indeed true, it seemed another band of dwarves from the East had stolen it?

Dwarves! Her mind silently spat. How could anyone trust them? Yes of course there had been a number of valiant and trustworthy dwarves throughout history. But she looked upon those as an oddity rather than the norm. A conclusion that had been only deepened riding in their company today. And what of the news of the Gondorian riders? Did these somehow tie in with the letter she had received from Rho? Although she had not planned to share the missive, it being rather of a 'private' nature, it was obvious that she would have to do so as soon as an opportunity presented itself.

As noon progressed and the shadows began to lengthen again, some dwarves spoke up and demanded a stop to ease their jostled limbs and take some food. Lady Elenath however intervened, much to their annoyance:

'There is no time, we must make our way south as fast as we can. Eat from your rations if you're hungry. We won't stop till nightfall."

And so the company trotted on, the grumpy utterings of the dwarves soon being replaced by various other quite crude noises as they filled their stomachs. Alandriel did not feel hungry.

The afternoon soon faded into dusk as the company made their way south. As the last rays touched the line of jagged peaks of the Shadow Mountains far off in the west, the call for making camp rang out. Alandriel was pleased to note, that the dwarves lined up their wagons to form a ring around the company upon Lady Elenath's orders, making for a line of defence should this prove necessary. Several sentries were stationed and a small fire was kindled in the centre. Soon everybody turned to their routines and settled, the camp turning fairly quiet.

Alandriel pulled out Rho's letter, gave a wink to Vana to follow her and approached Lady Elenath. The elf was just finishing a quiet discussion with Dalchar. Seeing them approach she gave a nod to the dwarf who strode off, and then turned to her trainees.

Holding out the rolled parchment Alandriel said: 'I received this from Rho just before leaving Minas Tirith. You better have a look. Maybe it will shed some light on the recent developments. " Then, after a short pause and inclining her head to motion towards the boxes stacked on the wagons: 'Also, I think you need to tell us more about what it is we're carrying. Why so many boxes? And why to Dol Amroth?"

Concentrating on Lady Elenaths forthcoming answer, the Ranger failed to notice the movement of a shadow that slunk smoothly into the darkness under one of the wagons.

The day had been passing without incident but with much grumbling by the dwarves which Vana found quite amusing to be honest. She had heard tales from others of the squabbles that were recorded as history now between her cousin Legolas and his companion Gimli in the quest of the ring as members of the fellowship. She smiled under her hood to think this is what Legolas had heard and found so funny with the dwarves. Their ill manners and constant chatter. No wonder they could hear dwarves from so far away.

Alandriel had spurred her horse forward to join with Lady Elenath and so Vana chose to join them to see what had caused her training companion to move up in the line. It had been nothing really it seemed but did turn to their advantage as they suddenly stopped at the Lady Elenaths command.

As the Gondorians rode up at full speed and then drew up to the convoy, Vana's senses were aroused by the tension in their manners and message. The air was so heavy suddenly with the concerns that were now laid upon their travel south with the arms for Dol Amroth. The Lady Elenath didnt seem too pleased with the news but didnt let others know this. But Vana being half elf herself could sense the change in the Lady. As the Gondorian rode on in haste the trek south with the shipment was continued.

As the dwarves called for a time of break and rest the Lady Elenath notified them that they best eat of the provisions they could deal with as they rode on for there was no stopping till night fall when they would set up camp. Only then would they stop. Though the dwarves were not happy with this they complied with Lady Elenaths instructions. So the wagon train continued till night fall.

Sometime after all was quiet for the night, Alandriel winked and motioned Vana to follow as she saught out Lady Elenath. They found her around away from the fire talking with the head dwarf. Momentarily he was dismissed and the trainees were motioned forward to join Lady Elenath there and to sit upon the boxes that doubled as places to sit. Alandriel stated her business with a letter handed over for Lady Elenath to read. As she read again Vana felt the heaviness of the tension return to the aire about them.

Suddenly as if but a blink Vana noticed something move or was it just a shadow playing tricks on her elven eyes. Vana quietly excused herself from the group and walked away back to the direction they had come then she slipped into the shadows herself. Slowly she moved as if a part of everything around them. Only another elf could have seen her movements as she worked her way around the encampment to sneak up on the shadow or to at least solve what it was she saw. Slowly and quietly she moved inching her way to the spot where she had seen the shadow. As she got around there she could not see anything. But whatever it was had gone or moved out of her sight or perhaps it was watching her. Vana knew she could not lower her defenses for something was watching them indeed but what it was she could not tell.

It was mid afternoon when the outline of Pelargir finally appeared on the northern horizon, and while Rho's journey to Harad had been successful, it had also been unsettling, as well as unnerving. There were still many aspects of the trip she was trying to make sense of as well. However, the land of Harad had taken her by surprise. It was barren and harsh with so many endless miles of nothing but sand interspersed with rugged forms of life, and yet there was a beauty in its simplicity, along with a vividness enhanced by the stark landscape. And if her journey had not been military in nature, Rho would have almost been able to describe the land as peaceful.

A few hours later, the shieldmadien found herself walking down one of the rows of a local street market that was just on the edge of the town. The smells of food cooking, herbs, and even some floral fragrances were lingering in the air, along with the sounds of a few friendly voices chatting and bartering. Her gelding, Tamir, was comfortably resting in a stall at a local stable, and she had left Chirion with him. The desert trip had been hard on her wolf companion and Rho felt it best to let him stay with her horse.

After stopping at one of the booths to look at some leather pouches, Rho continued down the isle, her eyes searching for that one familiar stand where some of the best produce in Pelargir was sold. As she passed booth after booth, many of the merchants we starting to close down for the evening, although there were always the savvy few trying to make a last minute deal and Rho found herself telling more than one trader that she wasn't interested.

But soon a familiar voice was heard, calling out over the others, 'Rholarowyn'you have returned!" Turning around, Rho found herself in the midst of a bear hug from one of her long time friends. The Mithril Knight tried to answer him, but his embrace was barely allowing her to breath. However, he finally released her, and placing his hands on her shoulders the brown haired Gondorian man pushed Rho back and gave her a quick evaluating look.

'Well I see that this desert did not destroy you, but it did darken your skin quite a bit. Tell me was this journey worth it?"

Rho could not help but smile at her friend. 'No Gabrim, Harad did not destroy me, and yes the journey was worth it."

The man looked at her a moment longer, and then finally dropped his hands. 'Well I'm on my way back to my booth. Liliala is there'wait do you have a place to stay tonight? You must stay with us! And you can join us for dinner too!! I bet you are more than ready to have a good Gondorian meal after trying to live off of desert food for so long."

Rho's smile turned into laughter as Gabrim's enthusiasm, as well as his evident relief got the better of him, but finally she answered. 'Yes, I can stay the night and dinner would be great, but please will you allow me to buy us a chicken for this feast?"

Gabrim quickly agreed, and after Rho handed him a few coins, and he went off to buy the bird. She continued walking down the row until she spotted Gabrim's wife closing up their booth. When Rho finally reached her, more embraces were exchanged and the shieldmadien was also then greeted by a very happy three year old. Kneeling down Rho scooped up the little girl, and gave her a hug too. Then she grinned when the child held up a half eaten apple in front of her face.

'Rhola, wanna bite?" The child proudly offered.

Rho graciously took a bite and then nodded her head. 'Thank you Treada, that is a very good apple."

After placing the little one back on the ground, Rho and Liliala continued to visit for the next several minutes until Gabrim return with dinner in hand. A short while later, the three adults had loaded up the couple's cart with all the left over produce and were just getting ready to leave the almost deserted market place when the sounds of men shouting reached them. At first Rho dismissed them thinking it was some last minute deal that had gone awry, but when the voices got louder and more intense, the shieldmadien quickly decided to check it out.

As she and Gabrim approached the scene, Rho evaluated the situation quickly. There was a young man lying motionless on the ground with another man, a dark haired man, who had a short sword drawn, slowly backing away. But it didn't take long for her to realize that this man from the East wasn't backing away willingly, he was being forced back by another well dressed, blonde haired man, who had drawn his much longer sword and was yelling obscenities about the vileness of Easterlings.

Just as the harsh words began to register with her, Rho saw two more men emerging from behind the building. Their hands were upon the hilts of their swords. Clearly they had been hiding there, waiting for the right moment to emerge. And from the looks of their clothing, it took only a second to know which man they were friends with.

Gabrim had come to the same conclusion and along with another man, both were able to prevent the two 'new comers' from interfering any further. But the blonde haired man, caught up in his hatred didn't see what had happened to his companions, and so he made his move, challenging the Easterling, and the two were quickly engaged in a fight. Both men fought hard as the sounds of their blades hitting rang out.

Thoughts of Jiyadan and Moujhadin, her Easterling friends, quickly entered Rho's mind as she watched the scene play out in front of her. But it was the look of wickedness building in the well-dressed man's eyes that began to give her cause for cause for alarm. Whatever had started this little argument no longer mattered. It was apparent this man wanted to go for the kill, and that's when Rho intervened.

Quickly joining in, the Mithril Knight used some of the Eastron fighting maneuvers Jiyadan had recently taught her, and that this Easterling seemed to be familiar with, and in a short amount of time, and by working together, the two were able to disarm the blonde haired man and they held him by pinning him to the ground. Although this rogue seemed to find a certain level of enjoyment spitting upon Rho once, just before a couple of local soldiers arrived.

'Dog of an Eastron. May all your people rot in the hells you deserve, you should all have been wiped off the face of the earth you orc-loving murderers' " the words fell easily from the lips of the blond man facing Tallain, and with a grin he unsheathed his broadsword and advanced on him. 'How dare you interfere, this will go very badly for you and soon you will be joining all of your filthy brethren in the mire you belong', with these words he stepped forward and swung his sword at Tallain.

The tall Easterling sighed as he brought his sword up to parry, and as he did so he reflected wryly on his luck of late. He had just lost a commission, his horse was lame, he had virtually no money, he was tired, hungry and had not rested in many days trying to reach this Pelargir, only to find that the group he was supposed to escort, had left early.

And now, to top it all, this bigoted Westron was attacking him because he had the 'audacity' to interfere and try to help the man who was lying wounded on the ground. He groaned, parrying yet another wild lunge, just his luck, his stupid idiotic tendency to help those who seemed in need was going to get him into yet another scrape. He was unlikely to get any aid, for most people would not look beyond his skin and his manner, they would see only a hated 'Easterling pig'.

He smiled again, which only seemed to infuriate his attacker more. With a cry the blond man launched a strong attack, and in his tiredness, Tallain knew he was going to be hurt badly. Then suddenly, out of nowhere, a sword intercepted what would have been a very painful blow. A female was suddenly at his side, blending herself perfectly in the dance of the sword, as though she had been trained to be his partner.

Tallain rallied, even in the face of his exhaustion, ignoring the complaints of his muscles, he added his blows to hers and together they disarmed his attacker and managed to pin him to the ground until a few guards arrived.

Tallain felt himself falling, he fell to his knees as the tiredness, hunger and hard living he had put himself through these past weeks caught up with him. And even then he smiled at the picture he must be showing to those who had gathered around. Poor pathetic Eastern-born, unable to endure a little fight " grunting with effort he forced himself upright again, and was just about to thank his female saviour, when a groan from the man on the ground diverted his attention. He moved over to the prostrate man who was moaning on the ground, and let his senses reach out to him.

The feeling relayed to Tallain was one of pain, of anger, and of consciousness slipping away. The darkness surrounding the injured man's aura, for that was what Tallain called it, was growing.

He turned, quickly, to the lady who had assisted him so skilfully in his hour of need 'My Lady " I apologise in advance for my apparent lack of manners, but I am afraid that should we not treat the injuries this man has sustained in a swift manner, then he will not be with the living for much longer. His wound is far more extensive than it appears at first glance." The blood from the man's injury was indeed spreading, covering his tunic in its dark, crimson stain.

He stood unsteadily, smiling once again at the picture he must present, and looked at his saviour 'My thanks, though belated, for your most welcome assistance. I am in your debt and I hope that I can show you my full appreciation, but I would beseech your further aid in helping this fallen gentleman'.

Whilst waiting for her response, he studied her, noting the long brown hair, piercing green eyes and somewhat troubled look. Her skin was tanned and she had a travel-worn look about her clothes and possessions. Then his eyes caught sight of the dagger that hung at her waist " the look of it at first glance appeared Eastern in origin, beautifully carved and ornate. His eyes caught a flash of precious stones before he was grabbed, roughly, by the guards who had arrived at the scene.

It was midday when the Rohirrim found himself walking up to the Mithril Knight Guild house in Minas Tirith with the letter from Elbren in hand:

To Bryttar,

Make your way to Minas Tirith and see the Mithril Knight Guild House in that city. It is within the Fifth circle and can be found built into the mountain itself. Ask for Lady Elenath who shall instruct you further on your task. I shall meet you as soon as I am able; which may require me coming to you or you traveling to me; Elenath will know.

Varda keep thee safe

Lord Elbren

However, once he was safely inside, the servant who'd answered the door, read the letter and then quickly left him standing in the entry hall mumbling something the man could not understand.

A few minutes later, a Mithril Knight greeted Bryttar and invited the Rohirrim to join him for lunch. So it was while the two were sharing this meal that Bryttar learned he had missed the departure of Lady Elenath and the two Knight's-in-Training by at least 4 or 5 hours. Although the two men quickly concluded that with a fresh horse, Bryttar would be able to reach the group most likely by nightfall since they were traveling the South Road to Pelargir and moving at a slow pace due to the wagons.

After the knight wished him safe travel, the Rohirrim made his way back to the old Steward's stable where he had left Cresterl, and quickly made arrangements to borrow another horse. A short time later he had tacked up the large black gelding with his own saddle, bid Cresterl goodbye along with a promise he'd return soon, and then made his way to and then out of the city gates.

Bryttar and the large gelding, Radan, moved at a good pace for the first hour, stopping only when they met up with three Gondorian soldiers. And when the Rohirrim told them the nature of his journey, he was quickly informed that indeed they had past such a group, several hours ago. They also stated if he continued down the road, he would surely be meeting up with them by dusk or shortly after.

When the soldiers departed, Bryttar once again urged, Radan, into a slower canter and began to ponder the information he'd just received, surprised that the Gondorians had actually revealed as much as they had with him. Although Bryttar quickly realized that even though he no longer rode for the Riders of the Mark, much of his clothing and equipment revealed just where he had formally served.

Urging the black horse on, the two continued down the road throughout the afternoon and well into the dusk. Meeting no others on the road, which the Rohirrim found odd for this time of year. Finally when the grayness of the evening sky gave way to black, Bryttar saw what he was looking for. A group of wagons off in the distance, set up in a defensive position, with a campfire going in the middle.

Slowing Radan down to a walk, Bryttar began to hear the loud voices of dwarves echoing in the night. 'They really were loud folk," he thought to himself with a chuckle. But though they were loud, he knew that he never wanted to catch one off guard. So when he finally was near enough to the group, he shouted out.

'Hello there, I would like to know if Lady Elenath happens to be traveling with this group?"

'Who wants to know?" came the rather gruff reply.

'My name is Bryttar'from Rohan," the Rohirrim answered. 'I have a letter with me stating that she is to be my Mentor Knight. I'm to accompany her and two others'a Lady Alandriel and a Lady Vanaladiel, along with a group of dwarves to Dol Amroth'."

But Bryttar's words were cut short when the shouting broke out.

'He's mine, I tell you he's mine!" the one Dwarven voice yelled out, only to be followed by another.

'I saw him first! So you can't have him'" then came the sound of something scurrying over near the wagons on his right.

Bryttar quickly moved his left hand to the hilt of his sword, not sure what these dwarves were up to. But with the next sentence, the Rohirrim chuckled when he realized that he was not the source of this argument.

'Hey you two, he's under my wagon! Therefore he's mine! And if you want a piece of him, you'll have to trade me something for 'em."

Patiently Bryttar waited until the deep grumblings of dwarves died down, and a woman's voice then called out asking him to approach her. Dismounting, he walked forward and formally introduced himself to the Lady Elenath when he reached where she was standing.

A short time later, after Radan had been untacked and tended to, Bryttar was sitting comfortably next to the fire and was about to find out that Lady Elenath had a letter from his cousin Rholarowyn in her possession.

As they kept the blonde haired man pinned to the ground, Rho's eyes met that of the Easterling's and she could not miss the gratitude that they held, but the moment was short lived. Before she could stop them, the two guards grabbed the Eastron man and began to pull him away.

'What are you doi'" She angrily began to voice her objection, just before the man on the ground took advantage of her distraction.

Rho felt the top off his foot hooking her behind the knee, which caused the shieldmadien to loose her balance. In the next moment she found herself falling down on top of the man, his fist then hitting her squarely in the stomach. Doubling over from the pain and gasping for breath, the shield maiden quickly rolled aside onto the ground, only to be grabbed again and turned over onto her back. But this time she was prepared. While her left arm clutched her waist, Rho's right hand immediately went to the hilt of her dagger. Instantly she withdrew it and held the Haradrim blade up against the blonde haired man's throat.

'STOP!" Came the command from one in authority.

Two additional guards, who had just arrived, quickly pulled the large blonde haired man off from the top of her. Dropping the hand that still firmly held the dagger, Rho closed her eyes and hoped for a moment of peace while she tried to regain her breath. But the moment was short lived.

'So Rholarowyn'you are back. Did you enjoy your little stay in the desert?" The deep voice asked with and edge of sarcasm.

Opening her eyes, the Mithril Knight knew who would be 'greeting' her and sure enough she was right. Bandoril, the Captain of the Pelargir guards stood towering above, although surprisingly his hand was extended out to her. Resheathing her dagger, Rho then took his hand and allowed him to pull her up, but once she was standing the Captain gripped her hand more firmly, gave an extra tug, and pulled her directly into him.

'It's bad enough you go taking off to Harad, but'" He whispered coldly and then took in a deep breath in what appeared to be an attempt to control his emotions, although the disdain in his voice did not disappear, "'did you have to bring one of THEM back with you?"

Jerking her arm free of his hold they held each other's gaze, their contempt for one another clearly revealed. But it was Gabrim's voice calling out that brought them both back to the moment at hand and drew the Captain's attention to the man on the ground.

Without hesitation the Captain went over to check on the wounded man. As Rho began to follow she was told a firm 'no' by Bandoril, so instead the shieldmaiden walked over to the two guards holding the Easterling man and then spoke to them instead.

'Take him over to that bench over there and let him sit down."

The guards quickly complied, and the shield maiden followed. And just after the man from the East had sat down, the Captain, after giving Rho a stern look which she knew meant, 'Stay put!" called for the two guards to assist him.

Sitting down on the bench with the Easterling on her left, Rho then held onto her stomach and leaned forward trying to relieve some of the pain. But the concerned voices of the Captain and the guards over the wounded man caused her to sit up, and lean back against the wall, just as the Eastron man was doing. Keeping her arms wrapped around her stomach, Rho stared at the scene in front of her and then looked up towards the late afternoon sky, not realizing that she had spoken her thought out loud.

'That was stupid'I know better!"

With her head still resting against the wall, Rho then turned to look at the Easterling. His dark eyes held both appreciation and apprehension. Her attention then went to his long black hair, which was pulled back, and she also noticed the earring he wore. But when she quickly assessed his overall appearance, that's when her concern grew. The man had clearly seen better days.

'M'lady'" The Easterling began but then stopped.

Rho smiled to herself thinking how strange it sounded to be called that title by a man with an Eastron accent.

'Do you not mean kheha*?" She asked and then watched as the man's eyes widened in shock. But quickly she reassured him. 'Yes, I am familiar with a little of your language..."

'You know Eastron?'How?" The man interrupted clearly puzzled.

'It's a long story 'but please, right now you must tell me everything that happened here up to when I arrived'" Then she paused.

'Wait'forgive me'first, my name is Rholarowyn." Still looking into the Eastron man's eyes she then asked, 'And you would be?"

Elenath took the rolled parchment from Alandriel and read it carefully. She smiled at Rholarowyn's comment that she would be an excellent mentor knight, remembering their time in training together. A few other lines stood out to her: "It appears there are some new developments happening in the East... The enemy which they are currently fighting against has begun to use extreme and cruel tactics... I also seek to learn more about this enemy he's facing and will try to learn as much as I can to see if there is any connection between them and the Clan of the Red Hammer. This new enemy of ours appears to be very invasive. If their hand also reaches East and South, then it would be better for us to know now, than to be surprised later."

Elenath mulled over the letter silently for a few minutes, hardly noticing when Vanaladiel slipped away. But she did notice when a voice called out, 'Hello there, I would like to know if Lady Elenath happens to be traveling with this group?"

She turned sharply. A man on horseback had approached their camp, a Rohirrim from the look of him, and was saying something about having a letter from Lord Elbren. The dwarves started bickering about something, and Elenath sighed and waited until they quieted down before calling the young man over. He dismounted and walked over, introducing himself as Bryttar.

"Bryttar, welcome, I'm glad you were able to catch up with us. This is Alandriel, and..." she looked around, then gestured to Vanaladiel, who was coming back toward them. "And this is Vanaladiel. Please, make yourself and your horse comfortable, and then we will talk more."

When they were all seated around the fire, Elenath took out Rholarowyn's letter and handed it back to Alandriel. "Thank you for sharing that, Alandriel. I hope that Rholarowyn has found something on her trip, and that she returns safely." Elenath thought she saw a flicker of something in Bryttar's face, but she kept going. "The situation in the East and South is something we will have to keep in mind as we travel in this area. And that brings me to your questions, Alandriel: why so many boxes, and why to Dol Amroth? The boxes are from the dwarves of the Lonely Mountain. They had several... items... that they wished to keep safe, as far from the Red Hammer as possible. That is one reason why a connection in the South would be quite troubling."

Elenath sighed and shook her head. "But there's nothing we can do about all that now: the only thing we need worry about is getting this shipment to Dol Amroth. So I suggest that we all get some rest: we will be leaving early in the morning."

The three knights-in-training stood up and left the fire, but Elenath thought she heard one or two of them speaking in low voices. She sat, lost in thought, staring into the coals until they faded to darkness. Then she stood up and stretched, looking up toward the stars.

Suddenly Elenath froze, staring upward. Something was wrong. Terribly wrong. Where the Star of Earendil should be, there was only blackness. "Elbereth berio men," she whispered. Elbereth protect us. What could have happened, that Earendil's light should shine no more?

Uneasiness sat heavily in her stomach, and would not leave even when the sun rose. She woke the dwarves, speaking rather sharply to their grumbles, and woke the trainees also. They at least didn't grumble, but she could tell they didn't like waking at this hour. Nonetheless, she pushed everyone to be ready as quickly as they could, and set the horses a faster pace than the day before. She was aware that she was being rather short-tempered, but the loss of the Star had unsettled her deeply. They needed to reach their destination quickly, and find out what was happening.

Breathing heavily, Tallain did not struggle when the guards grabbed him and pulled him roughly away from the Lady, who was still holding his attacker still. She turned her head to berate the guards for their treatment of him, which surprised Tallain, and while she was distracted, the man she held attacked her. Tallain struggled to go to her aid, but his guards misinterpreted his actions as those of someone trying to escape, and hit him squarely in the stomach.

Doubling over, he almost retched and missed the events that followed, although he did hear the lady's voice talking to another man, and then heard her soft command to his guards.

He staggered gratefully to a seating position and then leaned back, watching with concern as his benefactor had obviously been hurt herself. Once again he studied her " she seemed strong and sure, no stranger to a fight, but her movements spoke of control as well. He smiled, a mystery, but a very pleasant one.

He watched her eyes flicker to the group attending the man he had gone to help, who still lay on the ground although now assisted by several guards. Then those green eyes turned to him.

He cleared his throat, ashamed and apprehensive of her all of a sudden, and said 'M'Lady' ..

She interrupted him with a smile that disarmed him completely, and then shocked him totally by saying 'Do you not mean kheha .. and admitting she knew some of his language.

Tallain was stunned. Never had he met someone who held even a remote interest in his heritage beyond a certainty that he was an evil rogue who was not to be trusted.

He swallowed following her request for his version of events, his throat was parched and he reached around to grab his water bottle, offering the lady some first.

She then introduced herself " Rholarowyn.

He repeated the name in his mind and felt his gift surge involuntarily, and reached out to the woman seated beside him. He felt anger and concern for him within her, which was unexpected, and great turmoil, before managing to pull himself under control and rearranging his own troubled thoughts.

'Apologies Lady Rholarowyn " I am unaccustomed to speaking to someone who has not only interest in one such as myself, but also courtesy and manners. My name is Tallain. I have been travelling in these lands for a few years now, but this is the first time I have come to this town. Unfortunately, my stay here has not, so far, been a pleasant one. I was supposed to meet a group of travellers and provide them with some assistance in reaching their destination in Minas Tirith, but when I arrived here I found they had left before me .." his look told much of his belief as to why they had left early.

'It is possible that perhaps the thought of travelling with one of the East as an escort was more frightening than any dangers they might encounter on their journey alone " However, that is besides the point ! I had stabled my horse in a nearby establishment, and had just left to partake of some nourishment, when I was drawn to the cries of a man ."

Tallain gestured to the injured man on the floor " 'He was already bleeding and the one who you so gallantly assisted me with, was standing over him with a drawn sword, although he sheathed it swiftly when I challenged him. I asked him whether the man needed assistance and was just about to try and provide some, when he attacked me with words and actions " that was when your timely arrival intervened in what was surely going to be a very unfortunate incident .. for me !"

His dark brown eyes showed humour " Tallain had learnt to laugh at himself, it was a way he kept sane.

He turned to her, 'That is my story Lady Rholarowyn, although of course it is a matter of my word against that of a man who, although a rogue, is of this land when I am not." His last words sounded bitter in his ears and no doubt in Rholarowyn's, and he closed his eyes. He felt so tired, sometimes he wondered why he had left his own lands at all !

Taking a deep breath he turned to her once again. 'Once again accept my thanks and apologies for the somewhat rambling nature of my story, but my recent days have involved much riding and little sleep so I don't doubt that I do not sound very coherent .. " and then with a mischievous grin he added, 'And although kheha is certainly a term I would use in addressing such a gracious lady, I would add 'lind’ssima'* to that description."

As the three trainees bid their mentor a good night, Alandriel could but notice that the newcomer, Bryttar, was eyeing her curiously. She ignored his glances though, remaining seated by the fire while Vana and the Rohirrim finalized their arrangements for the night. Drawing her cloak close against the increasing night chill, she stared into the slowly dying embers while pondering Lady Elenaths words.

Several 'items''items? Obviously something valuable and not just 'plain' armour or weapons as she had initially supposed. Something that the Lonely Mountain dwarves wished to keep safe ". or hide'.. from the Red Hammer'.. sending it far away to Dol Amroth? But why Dol Amroth? Why had they not instead opted to send what ever it was that seemed to be so important west, maybe as far as the Blue Mountains? There should still be some dwarf settlements there''And just what exactly was the Red Hammer? Too many questions!

Dwarf business! Who would ever understand dwarf meddlings? But, she put a hasty halt to her venomous-turning thoughts, obviously Mithril Knights business as well. Though how these two came to be intertwined ".. she shook her head.

Alandriel looked over to Vana who was contemplating the night sky and with an inclination of her head invited her over. The peredhel approached quietly, a worried expression on her face.

'What's wrong?" Alandriel asked her. 'And what happened earlier that made you leave?"

'There is something terribly amiss," Vana began, 'The Star of Earendil'". It's not there."

Alandriel fixed her gaze at the spot in the sky where the star should have appeared and gasped. 'You're right, Vana. This does not bode well." Both women took to silent ponderings of the meaning and implication of this discovery until Vana broke the silence once more.

'To answer your second question'..while you showed Lady Elenath the letter'"

As that last word was spoken by the peredhel, Alandriel noted Bryttar turning to better overhear the conversation. His ears had pricked earlier and he had followed their gazes skywards.

'I thought I had seen a shadow creeping under one of the wagons and went to investigate. But' there was nothing'." Her voice trailed off.

'If you excuse my intrusion'." Bryttar approached and came to rest opposite the ranger. His shoulder length blond hair partially obscured his face as he leaned closer: 'When I entered the camp there was a commotion amongst the dwarves. From their reactions though I supposed they were going to pursue some ".. additional dinner." A slight smirk crossed his rugged face.

'Bryttar, " Alandriel grinned then addressed the Rohirrim, her voice serious, 'on our way today we came across three Gondorians."

Bryttar nodded and it was clear to both women that he must have had the same encounter on his way to join them.

'Yes, I know," he said, 'and they relayed the news that some spies had been apprehended in Pelargir."

Both Vana and Alandriel nodded.

'Don't you find it strange that trouble is stirring in the south, Haradrim spies are caught and we have an elusive shadow?" Not to mention that we're accompanying a mysterious shipment and that the star of Earendil is missing' but she left that thought unspoken. Alandriel's voice was almost a whisper as she added:

'Maybe I am making too much of it all but I certainly think caution is advised. Rho's letter'"" the ranger pointedly fixed her eyes on the Rohirrim.

'The letter you showed to Lady Elenath?" he asked, then added after seeing Alandriel's questioning glance. 'She is my cousin. I have not had news from her in a long time. Could I'..?" He left the question hanging in the air.

'Rho is a cousin of yours?" Alandriel, incredulous, sought reassurance while Vana's eyebrows slightly knitted together.

'I am sorry Vana. Rho, or rather Rholarowyn as is her proper name, is a friend of mine and we have shared some travels together. Strange though'" the ranger once more turned to look at Bryttar, 'she's never mentioned she had a Rohirrim cousin."

Bryttar chuckled: 'Well, Rho does not usually bore people with her family connections. Let me explain briefly: Rho's father and my father are brothers and both families used to manage a horse farm in north-western Rohan until'" never mind." His voice trailed off with a tinge of sadness. Then he finished: 'So you see, that makes us cousins."

Alandriel smiled yet a tinge of melancholy crept over her face. Family! How lucky Bryttar was'.to have one'. to know who is relations were.

'Oh, of course' Alandriel snapped out of her train of thought, 'you would want to see the letter. Keep it till tomorrow, if you want." Bryttar accepted the offered parchment with a grateful nod. Then the ranger stretched her legs and stood. For a moment she contemplated searching for tracks around the wagons but then decided against it when she saw the place packed tight with sleeping dwarves. A run-in or a lengthy explanation was not something she fancied right now and so she said:

'I bid you all a good night then. It seems we will have to rise early tomorrow as Lady Elenath is eager to reach our destination. I think I will catch some sleep while there is yet time'. and so should you. Somehow I think our peace here won't last."

* * *

Just before sunrise they were woken and instructed to make ready. Alandriel, unlike the loudly protesting dwarves, did not mind skipping a proper breakfast and instead chewed on some dried fruits as the wagons slowly got into line. Vana and Bryttar were eager to be going too and the threesome soon took up their position behind Lady Elenath and the sour faced Dalchar.

As they settled into a slow trot, Alandriel leaned over to address Bryttar:

'So, young Rohirrim. Have you found the letter interesting?"

Vana's elven eyes searching the shadows could detect nothing persievable remaining there. Whatever had caught her attention was gone now. With her keen sense of hearing alerted she knew that someone new had entered the ring of wagons upon a large black horse.

Walking back to the fire just as Lady Elenath was introducing her. "And this is Vanaladiel. Please, make yourself and your horse comfortable, and then we will talk more."

Upon Bryttars return to the fire Lady Elenath went on to talk with this Rohirrim, about their business and the wagons with their load. Curiosity did tend to grab Vana's imagination as to what may be in the wagons that was of such importance to the dwarves to secretly and so guarded, send it to Dol Amroth. She remained silent and kept listening and pondering things within her heart.

Finally Lady Elenath dismissed them to get rest for another day of travel. The three trainees headed to their bed rolls, Vana stopped at hers and stared up contemplating the night sky Alandriel watched her closely, then with an inclination of her head invited her over. Vana approached quietly, a worried expression on her face.

'What's wrong?" Alandriel asked her. 'And what happened earlier that made you leave?"

'There is something terribly amiss," Vana began, 'The Star of Earendil'". It's not there."

Alandriel fixed her gaze at the spot in the sky where the star should have appeared and gasped. 'You're right, Vana. This does not bode well." Both women took to silent ponderings of the meaning and implication of this discovery until Vana broke the silence once more.

'To answer your second question'..while you showed Lady Elenath the letter'"

'I thought I had seen a shadow creeping under one of the wagons and went to investigate. But' there was nothing'." Her voice trailed off.

'If you excuse my intrusion'." Bryttar approached and came to rest opposite the ranger. His shoulder length blond hair partially obscured his face as he leaned closer: 'When I entered the camp there was a commotion amongst the dwarves. From their reactions though I supposed they were going to pursue some ".. additional dinner." A slight smirk crossed his rugged face.

Vana was not amused with this strangers lack of concern with so much so amiss, but she decided not to discuss it further with him.

Alandriel started talking with him again about her friend Rholarowyn, who so happened to be Bryttars cousin. Vana decided not to tell them she too knew who Rho was but let them go on and listened intently to their conversation.

Finally Vana wrapped herself in her blanket and settled back and closed her eyes and acted asleep. Softly the conversation between Alandriel and Bryttar faded off and Vana rested till just before the rising of the sun Lady Elenath nudged her awake and motioned to the sky and then the wagons.

So quickly Vana prepared herself and her mount to move with the wagons. The dwarves were not a happy bunch so early in the morning but Vana just stayed out of their way and watched. Alandriel and Bryttar joined Vana shortly mounted and ready to ride.

As they settled into a slow trot right behind the Lady Elenath, Alandriel leaned over to address Bryttar:

'So, young Rohirrim. Have you found the letter interesting?"

Vana almost immediately lost herself in surveying their surroundings and the ground as they passed searching for tracks that may have been left the night before by the mysterious shadow that had caught her attention. She could see none and decided either it was her imagination playing tricks on her or the shadow was very good at hiding tracks or remained behind following them.

Several times during the mornings ride Vana would slow her horse and check back behind them using her elven eyes to search for any movement not with the wagons. Every once in a while she would spot a bird flying off on the horizon or high above them moving through the clouds. The day was not hot but with the dust from the road it was thick and dry.

Vana wondered if her silence would be interpretted as being distant or unconcerned with the rest of the group but she was trying to figure how she fit in to all this. Yes their mentor was a elf more so then herself but they hardly got the chance to speak. Vana had not been accustom to riding with such a varied group for any kind of adventures. She was not unaccustomed to these races of people from Middle Earth with her years at the Lucky Fortune Inn and her travels with friends but this was different.

These were strangers to her and their mission unclear other then their quest to get the wagons through to Dol Amroth. Vana was still excited to be training to be a Mithril Knight as her dream had always been, but she still didnt know what to expect from people she had never known before. She would watch and learn a lot about a person by what they said and do in most daily circumstances but this was a true adventure in the making, she didnt even know what they were to protect from this group or enemy called the Red Hammer. Why could they not be made privy to the contents that they were protecting? Vana couldnt help but wonder if it would cause a problem amongst the dwarves and themselves if they knew.

The morning wore on and only the dwarves could be heard grumbling and talking. Singing songs to themselves about their wonderous mines and dwellings. Vana would smile now and then when an arguement came up about who had the nices mine, Moria or the The Iron Hills. Vana daydreamed a bit about the tales that she had heard of the Iron Hills and the dragon Smaug as well as the tales of the great fellowship to destroy the ring and their perilous trek through Moria. She was glad she had not seen many of the things that others spoke about. Who would want to meet a balrog? She had heard tales of them as a young elf and the fear they strike in the hearts of all middle earth.

Vana looked to the sky for some sign of what had seemed so dark the night before and had hidden or removed the Star of Earendil. Nothing in the daytime sky looked amiss so Vana decided she would watch the stars again at night to see what she could to try and understand this event of mischief in the night sky.

Not much talking went on between the trainees as they rode along but they would look at each other now and then and smile reassuringly that none of them were alone.

Rho listened intently as Tallain relayed the details of the events prior to her arrival and when he was finished, she didn't miss the humor in his eyes. Clearly it wasn't there because of the way things turned out. No, one thing Rho had learned with her other Eastron friends is that each one had found a different way to deal with, or deny, their Easterling backgrounds.

With her head still resting against the wall, Rho continued to listen while she looked at Tallain, until he added, 'And although kheha is certainly a term I would use in addressing such a gracious lady, I would add lind’ssima to that description."

'Please," she interrupted. 'Could you tell me what this word means? I have heard it before."

After Tallain's explanation, the shieldmadien turned away to hide the blush on her face remembering when Moujhadin had once called her that. But it wasn't until now that she realized the misunderstanding. For at the time Rho thought he'd been teasing her and had jokingly referred to her as a 'laughing bird'.

'Rho, could you come here please?" Bandoril asked in a tone that was calmer than before, interrupting her thoughts.

The Mithril Knight did not look at Tallain as she pushed herself up off the bench, but did tell the man she would be right back. Reaching Bandoril, he led her away from the group and the two began talking. Several minutes later, as some of the guards were taking the hurt man away to a local healer, and the remaining guards led the three well dressed men off, clearly against their will, the Captain then called Gabrim over.

After several more minutes had passed Gabrim departed from the two and then Rho and the Captain concluded their conversation as well. Making her way back to Tallain, the Mithril Knight turned around when Bandoril called out one last time.

'Rho, please, be careful." His eyes now filled with concern.

Whatever animosity the two still held for each other was now set aside. The information the Captain had just shared with her gave them both cause to forget their personal feelings for now.

'I will," was her only reply.

Reaching the Easterling it was Rho who now spoke with concern. 'Your name has been cleared and you are free to go. However, the Captain thinks you are my traveling companion, so he has asked, well just short of ordered me, to get you out of the city. Will you come with me?"

Had she not been so disturbed by the recent information she'd just learned, Rho might have found this man's confused look about him being her traveling companion, amusing. But it was for his safety she hoped the Eastron man would say yes, if he didn't, Rho doubted he'd last the night.

When the man finally agreed, the two began to walk down the deserted market street. Luckily, both of their horses were being kept at the same stables, but it was as the two passed the last empty booth that Tallain stopped and finally spoke up.

'Rholarowyn, please, explain to me why that Captain thinks we are traveling together? Do you often travel with Easterling men?"

Rho stopped along side him and smiled for a moment. 'We shouldn't stop, come on." But she attempted to answer his question as they made there way to the stables.

'Yes I have traveled with Easterling men before, but you see I've just returned from a 3 month journey to Harad, and Bandoril thinks you've come back with me."

'Harad!" He quickly replied. 'What were you doing in Harad?"

Seeing the stables just up ahead, Rho answered him briefly. 'A friend requested my help and I went to assist him. But I also went to investigate some things'there were some things I needed to..." But her explanation was cut short when they finally reached the stables and the stable master greeted her. It was also when Tallain informed Rho that his horse was lame.

After the two examined the sad looking horse Rho quickly left Tallain alone in the stall. A few minutes later she returned and explained to the Easterling that she was able to find another horse for him, although they would have to take the little lame mare with them. But before they departed Rho also introduced Chirion to Tallain and thought that the man took it quite well when he learned that she traveled with a wolf.

A short while later, the two were riding northwest and heading towards Gabrim's farm. Back in Pelargir, her friend had continued to extend his offer to Rho for dinner and a place to stay even though the Easterling was now going to accompany her. And Gabrim's willingness to do this just for the night had even seemed to bring Bandoril some relief, as well as the Captain's promise of protection if anyone was to ever find out.

The Mithril Knight and the Easterling rode slowly mostly to accommodate the lame mare, which Rho was beginning to realize would be a nice horse with a little love, some good care, and perhaps a year off from any hard work. She then wondered if Tallain would be willing to give the mare to Gabrim and decided to ask him about it later.

The two spoke briefly as they traveled until the farmhouse came into view just as dusk was falling. Reaching the barn, Rho and Tallain then untacked their horses, quickly groomed the three, and then threw their mounts some evening feed.

As they were leaving the stables with Chirion right behind them, and the three were heading towards the house, Tallain spoke up.

'Is this OK? I can stay in the barn if it would be better."

Rho turned and looked at him seeing that his apprehension had returned.

'Tallain, it's alright. This has all been worked out and agreed upon. We are both invited to the evening meal and then there is a small guesthouse you can sleep in tonight."

But the man clearly seemed stunned, perhaps even overwhelmed.

'Tallain'you probably have more questions for me than I can give you answers to right now, but if you would feel more comfortable, I can go get you some food and bring it to you out here."

'So, young Rohirrim. Have you found the letter interesting?" Alandriel asked not long after they were traveling back on the South road.

Bryttar chuckled, but it was a nervous one, 'And just how much younger than you do you think I am Lady Alandriel?"

The red headed knight in training gave him one of her sly smiles and Bryttar quickly decided to change the subject.

'The letter, yes I did find it interesting, and a bit unnerving. Rho venturing off to Harad with only Chirion by her side, but that wouldn't stop my cousin if she set her mind to it'. However, it does sound like Lord Elbren was aware of her destination. Did you happen to notice that her letter was written about 3 months ago?"

Alandriel nodded, and then they both were distracted by some of the more humorous discussions that a few of the dwarves were having. When the discussion was over, Bryttar silently rode along side the woman and thought about the current situation. The shipment they were now accompanying didn't bother the Rohirrim too much, but a star missing from the evening sky would give anyone cause for some serious concern. Then his thoughts went to Rho and her journey to the south, as well as what little he'd been told about the Clan of the Red Hammer.

As the morning gave way into the early afternoon, the group continued their slow journey down the long dusty road. Stopping only once after the dwarves complained so loudly about the fact that they had to eat breakfast on the road, they had no intention on repeating this strange action twice in the same day.

The day continued to progress into the late afternoon, and Bryttar finally began to enjoy the light conversation he shared between Vanaladiel, Lady Elenath, and Alandriel. There was an underlying sense that each one knew there were more serious matters weighing on each of their hearts, but no words were said to convey this. And while their journey had been uneventful up to this point, the other thing that the four found unusual was that they passed no other travelers on the road as they headed towards Pelargir.

The afternoon wore on into early evening as the company continued on their way. The last outcrops of the White Mountains were barely visible through a mist that had settled in to the north. Only the highest peaks, illuminated by the last beams of the sun could be gleaned as if floating above the haze, Alandriel noted as she repeatedly scanned their surroundings. The hills of yesterday had slowly flattened and transformed into ever widening plains as they had passed the half-way stone mark earlier on. If the 'shadow' of last night was still following them, it would find its task to stay hidden increasingly challenging.

As much as Lady Elenath had insisted on making good speed, it was clear that yet another night camp would be necessary before they'd reach the port city on the morrow. Darkness was setting in when finally the call for a halt was issued. The wagons were ordered into the same formation as the previous night and it was deemed safer to light several small fires instead of one large one. Guards were posted as before around the periphery of the camp.

The three trainees spend time together over dinner with their mentor, relaying tales of their past and generally becoming better acquainted to each another.

Alandriel and her companions learnt that Lady Elenath, being of Noldor and Sindar descent, had wandered Middle Earth for countless years, having been born during the time of peace before Men were discovered. The elf told them of the love she harboured for the sea, having spent many years at the mouth of the river Sirion in West Beleriand.

'Then you must look forward to entering Pelargir and be close again to a mighty river, with echoes of the sea nearby?" Alandriel ventured. Elenath nodded yet her solemn expression also conveyed that she was somewhat uneasy. 'We must be vigilant and careful', she said quietly.

Dalchar approached and drew their mentor away for a conversation in private. As the pair walked off the dwarf pointed to several of the wagons. The trainees could not make out any details of their conversation but it seemed that the dwarf was concerned about the safety of the shipment. From his mannerism Alandriel concluded that he was reluctant to enter Pelargir; amongst the shreds of words drifting through the light night breeze the ranger thought to have detected the urgent mention of Dol Amroth several times. As to Lady Elenath's reaction, however, she could not venture even a guess as the elf kept a closed composure and her voice undetectable, even to the ranger's trained ears. Alandriel's eyes followed the pair as they approached one of the wagons where a particularly heavy box was secured. As much as she strained, she could not make out what the ensuing argument was all about. She cast a questioning look into Vana's direction, but the peredhel shook her head. They were too far. With a slight shrug of her shoulders and a sigh, Alandriel stood and readjusted her sword belt.

'I'll make a round before going to sleep." Drawing her elven cloak close, she stepped out of the ring of small fires and wagons, vanishing into the night.

Her search revealed to clues as to anything out of the ordinary. No tracks other than those of their company. No unusual sounds apart from the occasional soft snorts from one of the horses or some rough grunts from the dwarves who were, one by one or in smaller groups, settling down for the night. Yet'.

The camp grew quiet yet the uneasiness at the back of her mind would not let up. However, no matter how hard she tried, she was unable to interpret her vague intuition. Alandriel was sufficiently aware of her ways of thinking to know that her incessant mental probing at the elusive feeling would merely drive any answers deeper into hiding. Like a shrewd predator, all she could do now was mentally wander off " occupy her thoughts with something else " knowing that eventually the prey would quietly reappear. She smiled slyly as she stepped back into the ring of wagons, settling next to one of the dying fires where she had earlier spread out her bedroll.

From her travel pack she pulled out her whetstone and oil rag, unsheathed the Eket, bending her full attention to honing its edges. A short time later she re-sheathed the Nœmenorean short sword with a satisfied sigh, the sound of the blade sliding into its casing slowly fading from her hearing into the still night air.

That was it! It was too quiet! There had been none of the usual soft sounds of nocturnal activities. It was as if every night creature was holding its breath. There was something out there, she was sure of it now. Determined, she once more tightened the sword belt around her slender hips and made for the periphery of the camp with soft, measured steps. Some distance away stood a group of shrubs she had examined earlier. Crouching low next to a wagon, the ranger bent all her senses towards that spot. The small hairs at the back of her neck stood, a sure sign that something was out there, even if at this point she could neither hear nor see it. Keeping herself as low as possible, she ran the short distance and came to a crouching stop a few feet in front of the prickly shrub, listenening intently.

Snug and undetected, or so he thought, the Haradrim pulled out his earthenware flask. Content that his latest foray to the camp had finally yielded the information he had been seeking, he worked the tight cork until a soft 'pop' could be heard. Then he took a long draught to quench his thirst.

Alandriel drew her sword slowly and quietly, tensing every muscle in preparation to dart towards the source of the sound. As his ears picked up the slight rustle of leaves, he instantly dropped his flask and drew his curved dagger. Wheeling around, his weapon pierced Alandriel's tunic effortlessly, coming to an abrupt stop forced by her leather armour right over the spot of her heart. The red-jewelled Eket came to rest on the side of his neck, a thin line of blood starting to flow where the blade had pierced his dark skin.

Both opponents fixed each another in a deadly stare, weapons drawn and ready to strike should any of them as much as flinch.

Then the cracking sound of a bow string being drawn tight could be heard as well as the soft clinking noise of a sword being unsheathed.

Following his recount, the kind warrior Rholarowyn had asked him to explain his last words to her, and had almost blushed once he had done so, but he could sense that she thought of one other than he " he cursed his insight and shut his intuitive gift away before it could reveal more than was proper of the one who had come to his aid,.

He closed his eyes again and tried to ignore the rumble coming from his middle " how long had it been since a warm meal had crossed his lips ? Too long "

Opening them again he noticed that Rholarowyn had left his side and was now talking to the head of the guards.

He watched as the hurt man was attended to and removed, presumably to a healer, and as the attackers were forcibly taken from the scene. As they left he saw the man who had directly led the attack and caused the whole incident, turn to him. He could almost feel the hatred and loathing, and the silent promise of retribution that he sent forth to Tallain.

He closed his eyes. Sometimes he wondered whether anything he ever did would change the attitudes of those he encountered. For the first time in many weeks he could almost taste the darkness of despair, could almost feel the black hubris that threatened his mind in ever increasing intensity this season. Although he strove always to assist, to show his willingness to change, to take the Westrons' disdain and anger towards him with a smile of understanding, there came a time when it all became a little too much for him. He was, after all, young in years and experience, and had led a sheltered life in many ways until he had left his homeland. In fact, Rholarowyn's kindness and willingness to aid him in this unhappy set of affairs, had been the first in almost his entire time in the West.

He opened his eyes, not able to hide the despair from the astute lady who now stood once again before him, and with her next words almost undid him.

'Your name has been cleared and you are free to go. However, the Captain thinks you are my travelling companion, so he has asked, well just short of ordered me, to get you out of the city. Will you come with me?"

Tallain could almost not believe his ears, he looked at her with such wonder and astonishment, that he almost thought it was yet another cruel joke that these Westerners were playing on him. Then his senses could feel that she spoke sincerely and honestly.

He tried to stammer out a response, to show some measure of his thankfulness, but the tiredness, hunger and emotional drain were threatening to overwhelm him, and he followed her lead as though in a dream.

Then he stopped, needing to ask her for a reason, and as she answered his query with yet more riddles and questions for his mind, he resolved to keep quiet for now and stored the information she provided for him in his mind, to be thought of later.

Tallain watched as she knowingly assessed his lame mare, and then seemingly out of nowhere managed to procure for him another mount. He barely glanced at the animal at first, so taken up in the warmth of being treated as a person, and not as a hated 'Easterling'.

So it was that he was barely surprised when this amazing warrior introduced him to her travelling companion " a wolf she addressed as Chirion. Tallain reached out to the animal, offering his reassurance. Although he knew he could not communicate with the beautiful beast, he nonetheless could provide assurance of his good intentions .. often had he joked with himself that at least he could get understanding from animals that he was not a threat, more so than from their owners and masters.

Somehow, he found himself mounted on a magnificent horse, an animal of breeding and character, who he knew in the back of his mind that he needed to acquaint himself with when he could calm the turmoil in his mind and soul.

Events were moving so fast, everything had changed for him, here he was, free, accompanied by a beautiful and seasoned warrior who addressed him with courtesy and manners " he was aware that he had spoken to Rholarowyn during their short journey out of Pelargir, but could not recall what it was they had spoken about. Tallain felt as though he was in a dream. And he did not, under any circumstances, wish to wake up.

They came, presently, to a small house in a clearing and dismounted, leading their horses to the stable. Once at the stable, he untacked his mount and standing in front of him, proffered his hand to the horse. He noted the noble sweep of the horse's crest, the long but groomed mane and tail. The colour of the mount was a beautiful dark, glossy bay, almost black in some areas, but it shone like polished mahogany.

Tallain was subdued " only at his fathers' had he met a horse of such breeding.

He let the horse snuffle his hand, and slowly reached his senses out, offering friendship and companionship to the animal, who lowered his head and butted the Eastron almost playfully.

Tallain smiled, a true smile, and scratched the gelding's dark head, before grooming him swiftly.

He enquired of Rholarowyn during their care of their mounts, whether the horse had a name, but she professed her ignorance of this detail, so he decided to think about it and perhaps name the animal the next day. Tallain felt that such a magnificent beast should be named, even if he himself were only to partake of his companionship for a few days.

It was only as they were reaching the house, that Tallain felt a moment of doubt. He was conscious of his dirt, the grime of the road, the darkness of stubble on his cheeks, his unwashed hair. 'I must look like a layabout', he thought ruefully, and he hung back, turning to his companion and saying :

'Is this OK? I can stay in the barn if it would be better."

He looked almost fragile in the gathering dusk, and wished suddenly that it was night so that his yearning for company and happy voices should not be seen.

Rholarowyn smiled at him, she reassured him as best she could, and then, following his continued look, which she took for stunned disbelief (which in some part it was), she continued by saying .. 'Tallain'you probably have more questions for me than I can give you answers to right now, but if you would feel more comfortable, I can go get you some food and bring it to you out here.

Tallain was overwhelmed with thoughts, and visions, that swept him " he could feel kindness and warmth, he could sense her concern and her feeling of wanting to do the right thing for him. How could he convey his complete lack of human kindness offered to him in the last years, without seeming too " insincere.

Tallain took another deep breath 'My Lady Rholarowyn, there is nothing that would give me greater joy at this moment, than partaking of a meal with those who have helped me out of my predicament today. My lack of words probably best conveys the way I am feeling, which is essentially, speechless. It is a long time since such kindness has been offered to me and I am unsure of how to show how much it means to me "" he said these last words quietly, sharing a feeling in his soul that he had not shared before in this land.

He bowed to her " 'I would be honoured to partake in this meal, and would be more than happy to then sleep in the barn as I am afraid my lack of funds means that even a guesthouse is beyond my meagre resources, I would also be happy to assist your friend who has offered this hospitality, in completing any tasks that he may have outstanding around his land in recompense for his kindness."

With that he smiled, wryly, and waited for her to precede him, his stomach continually making noises. It was the least he could do to show his willingness to somehow repay their kindness.

Surprised that the man was bowing, Rho reached out and touched his shoulder reassuringly for a moment.

'Tallain, please, you do not need to bow to me, and as for assisting Gabrim in return for letting you stay here, well, I doubt my friend would let you. I am a guest here, and since you are traveling with me, you also are considered a guest. And guest's do not need to work off that which is given to them freely'and guest's do not sleep in the barn." She added with a smile.

But the look in his eyes said more to Rho than any words he could have spoken. The Mithril Knight had seen that same look in Jiyadan's eyes and in that moment she was grateful for all the long conversations that she and Jiyadan had shared. For he had helped her to truly understand what it was like to be an Easterling traveling through these lands. And it was not a journey to be taken by the faint hearted. In fact Rho too now understood what it meant to have friendships with a few of the honorable people from the East and the South, since the prejudices and rejection that were usually reserved for the Easterlings and Haradrim were now becoming a part of her life too. And again it was Jiyadan who had helped her to learn how to deal with both of these as well as the resentments and long standing hatred that others were now casting onto her as well.

'Rholarowyn, are you coming?" Came the friendly call from the house.

'Yes Gabrim, we'll be right there." She quickly replied. Then turning to Tallain, 'You're in for a treat. Gabrim is a wonderful cook, in fact he used to cook for my uncle in Minas Tirith. As you can see, he is quite loyal to our family."

The two began walking again while Rho continued. 'After the War of the Ring, and all that happened, Gabrim decided to leave the White City. So he moved back to the country and started his own farm. I do think that he is much happier here too."

When the Mithril Knight and the Easterling reached the house, Liliala met them at the door with a plate of food, which she promptly handed to Rho and explained that it was for Chirion. Smiling, Rho took it and quickly set it down for her wolf friend to eat and then returned to and entered the main house.

Gabrim's dinner was wonderful and as usual he spent most of the time sharing his humorous stories, which Rho never tired of hearing even if she had heard them dozens of times before. He also spoke of his two sons, now serving in Minas Tirith, and the pride in his voice could not be missed. But after the meal and as the evening progressed, the host began to realize just how tired both his guests were.

A short while later, Rho found herself leading Tallain outside to the guest house. The evening sky was exceptionally clear and the stars shone brightly as the two finally reached the door and entered.

Rho showed him where everything was that he might need during the night, then set the oil lamp down on a table and turned to leave while Tallain sat down on the bed, clearly exhausted. Just before she was about to shut the door, Rho turned back to tell him goodnight, and could not miss the look now contained in his eyes. Resting her hand on the edge of the door and then leaning her head just above her hand, Rho then tired to give this man the best explanation she could think of.

'Tallain, an Easterling man once saved my life, and to him I will always be grateful...you see I have learned that just as there are ruthless and cruel Easterlings, there are also honorable ones, and these men, Moujhadin and Jiyadan, I am proud to know and call my good friends. And just as there are honorable Westron's, there are also some that are cruel and ruthless, so I do not stand here and judge you by where you came from, or who your parents were. You did a good thing today in trying to help that man, and luckily there were a few honorable Westron's who were at the right place at the right time."

Rho took a deep breath, 'And now I think I better leave you to get some sleep." And with that she gave him one last smile and then turned and shut the door behind her. Several thoughts ran through her head as she and Chirion made there way back towards the main house. But Rho's own exhaustion from her long journey was finally catching up to her, and so the shieldmadien's usual gaze into the nighttime sky was forgotten this evening, the same evening that the Star of Earendil did not rise.

***

It was well into midmorning when Rho finally woke up and found Chirion was still sleeping next to her. The night's sleep had been restful, but the Mithril Knight was still feeling physically drained. After she had risen, Rho was pleased to find Liliala attending to a few things in the house, one of them being a bath for her.

'Good morning." Rho spoke up.

'It's almost afternoon!" The woman spoke playfully.

The two talked for a few minutes and then the women left Rho alone to clean up in privacy. An hour or so later, after Rho had bathed and eaten breakfast, she found herself sitting with Liliala on a wooden bench outside and enjoyed some light conversation with her friend. Gabrim and Treada had gone into town for a few items and would be returning shortly. It seems that Rho's visit was being treated as a mini celebration, and that her friend had decided not to open his produce booth on this day.

Occasionally, Rho would glance over in the direction of the guest house and wondered. She knew Tallain was extremely weary, but she had never inquired if he was actually wounded too. So when a pause in the conversation with Liliala finally came, Rho excused herself and headed towards the small house.

When she reached the door, Rho knocked gently, 'Tallain, are you awake? Is everything all right?"

The day wore on with only the grumblings of the dwarves casting any shadow upon their journey. As the mountains gave way to the plains, the company slowly moved on. The dusty road along with the dry weather caused some irritable dwarves to want to stop for their meal. They pressed ever on in their efforts to progress as fast as they could with the wagons in tow.

Having friendly conversation was a happy exchange with the three trainees and their mentor. Each carrying the weight of their own troubles keeping them to themselves for the moment. The friendly banter welcome from the somber trip that they knew would be coming later.

As the day waned and the evening came with the dusk, Lady Elenath once more had the camp set for the night. The many fires that night were for more then just warmth or for cooking. It was to place a guard on the camp site for they were getting farther and farther from their safe beginnings and the guild house. The road had been unnaturally empty so far and that made many of the company uneasy.

With The Star of Earendil still missing from the night sky and the heavy silence that could be felt, Vana was ever watchful.

As she watched Lady Elenath called away, Vana at first listened to hear the conversation. She could make it out but then they continued to move away farther into the nights darkness away from the fires. Alandriel gave Vana a look as if she wondered if Vana could answer for what was being said. Vana shook her head lightly to let her know she was unable to hear any longer what was the dire conversation. Yes they had heard the mention of Dol Amroth and the references to the wagon load but other then that the conversation was private and mostly unheard. The Lady Elenath careful to speak low and softly. The excitable dwarf followed her example and spoke low as well.

Though Vana heard more then she should have she shared it not with the others. Her ability to hear things others cant was not to be used to pry into the business that the Lady Elenath had. Vana tried to focus on other things so as not to eaves drop on what she did hear, knowing that if they were to know then the Lady Elenath would divulge the information to them as well when she returned.

The three trainees continued to visit for a while then slowly went to settle in for the night as the dwarves were doing. Alandriel had moved to her bed roll by the fire but then seemed so concerned and aware of the silence that Vana had felt all day. Vana watched as Alandriel moved away from the fires and out into the darkness. Able to see her outline for some time Vana didnt worry to see her moving around the perimeter of the camp and wagons but when she crouched to the ground Vana silently and quickly moved away herself to the darkness. Keeping an eye on Alandriel, Vana knew that she had seen something or heard something so she quietly fell in behind Alandriel without her knowing it.

Alandriel had set her sights on a little bunch of brush that was not too far from camp but in silent darkness. Vana watched as she moved to one side ready to pounch as a lion on her prey. Vana silently moved to the other end of the brush and waited too listening to the deafening silence when "POP" a flask cork was pulled.

Alandriel was ready to pounce when she stepped in some dried leaves. The noise sounding extremely loud in the silence.The uninvited guest sprang out of hiding and had his simitar to Alandriel and she her sword to his throat. The sound of Vanas bow pulled and ready stopped any further movement from the stanger now in their midst. At that same moment another sword was unsheathed and Vana realized she was not alone either.

Once again, the lady astonished and humbled him. Tallain listened to her words barely believing what he heard, he felt, almost, as though his entire journey for the past 2 years had been leading up to this meeting, to this point, to someone who was treating him as no one outside of his immediate friends and family back in his homeland, had treated him.

He listened with interest as she spoke of his host's past and cooking prowess. Once again his stomach reminded him of his lack of repast for the last few days, and he tried in vain to control the effect the smells emanating from the house were having on his body.

The lady of the house, Liliala, met them at the door with a plate of food for Rholarowyn's wolf friend. Tallain bent over her hand in homage and thanks for his guesting in her house, Liliala almost blushed, but quickly bustled him in, handed him a drink, which was very welcome to his parched throat, and made him feel almost as welcome as his avuela* had back home.

A lump came to his throat before the meal, it had been so long since he had sat, at a table, with people who actually wanted him to be there.

Tallain enjoyed the evening immensely, and fought off the rapidly advancing tiredness. He forgot the fact that he smelt terrible, that all of his muscles ached in ways he had not experienced before, that the wound in his side throbbed as though alive, and the bruises in his legs ". He forgot it all as he basked in the excellent food, and most importantly of all, the company.

Tallain was quiet most of the time, he interjected a few comments here and there but was content to enjoy the atmosphere.

At the end of the meal, Tallain and Rholarowyn were yawning and he was virtually asleep on his seat, their hosts bustled them off to their beds and rest. Before he left the house, he turned to Gabrim and Liliala. He touched his hand to his heart, then bent over and kissed Liliala's hand again. 'I can only begin to convey my thanks for this extremely generous and bountiful meal. I am in your debt " should our paths cross again my honour will be pleased to repay your kindness. Ral'e ravdol 'oe majilai."**

Then he turned and followed Rho into the darkness.

The evening sky was clear, but Tallain noticed, as he often did when he was tired and not able to control his gift as strongly, that there was a strange feeling in the air, as though something was not quite right " a strong feeling, as though a thunderstorm was about to erupt.

He muttered softly to himself, but knew that he was not going to be able to think about whatever it was, this night. His body required rest, now that hunger and thirst had been quenched. And he knew that he would sleep well, wound not withstanding.

As he came upon the guesthouse, he turned to Rholarowyn, his expressive hazel eyes conveying all that he was feeling, all the pain and all the happiness he felt for her and her friends' trust and friendship.

Tallain listened to her explanation with interest, remembering her blushes earlier on in their encounter that afternoon, and wondered whether they had been for one of these friends.

As she finished, and turned to leave him " he bade her good night softly in his own tongue, and then turned to the room.

It was simply furnished, but cosily laid out, so that a guest would feel welcome but not overwhelmed. It was luxury compared to what he had been experiencing for the last few weeks. True luxury.

And the following day .. he could have a bath " Tallain closed his eyes in near bliss " he knew that his body needed rest and he also knew, however, that his wound was not healing well, the recent hardships and the fight he had that day had not helped in its healing, coupled to the fact that his knowledge of herb lore was limited. Perhaps he could find a herb woman before leaving "

As he prepared for bed, he felt the wound " it was angry, but he did not feel infection. It was deep and ugly, a backslash that had only partially been blocked.

Tallain sighed as he lay down " what an incredible day. As he closed his eyes, he could feel the strange oppression coming from the outside.

Tallain knew he was dreaming, but as always happened when he dreamed with his gift, it was too real to be denied. Around him were elves, in strange and glorious armour, fighting a dark and hideous foe. He tried to hold a sword, to draw his bow, to help them, but he was too slow, too encumbered by his wound, by his inadequacy, by his heritage. The luminous beings around him continued their strange battle, but he knew none of them. Until suddenly he saw Rho " she was wearing a strange but stunningly beautiful cloak, shimmering and deep midnight blue. She was battling with a number of others, their faces blurred and unclear, but she was with friends.

Suddenly, a path opened toward her, he ran down it, trying as hard as he could to reach her before the fighting encircled and overwhelmed him " as he ran the battle changed and he was running through the night sky " the stars shone with their holy, all enveloping light, and surrounded him, whispering their shimmering magic " Tallain felt secure, warm and happy " but then the feeling changed " a darkness was growing in the east of the sky " a shadow called out, pulling the stars away. Their voices faltered and they began to fade, one by one being swallowed by the darkness as it crawled over the sky. Tallain felt himself dwindling, felt his body shrinking before the darkness, felt its evil overtake him, call him, pull him " he awoke with a cry, sweat covering his body.

It was a long time until sleep claimed him again and when it did, it was a deep sleep, but he awoke feeling worried and his head was pounding.

When he did awake, he heard Rholarowyn'a voice calling out to him, and he forced himself out of bed. His voice was husky with sleep but he responded to her worried call :

'Yes my lady .. I am " awake now. It has been a long night and I apologise for my tardy rising."

Rho was obviously worried, but she did not press him, for which Tallain was grateful. His dream was slowly returning to him and he was unusually affected by it. It felt more than a dream.

He got up, pulled on a shirt and grimaced at it's filthy state.

Rho reminded him about a bath and he responded far more enthusiastically. He relaxed deeply in the bath and felt far better, but his wound was still throbbing and he knew he was going to need help with it.

He found Rholarowyn with Chirion, and after a respectful greeting for the wolf, Tallain asked the warrior lady :

'my lady Rholarowyn " I sustained an injury in one of my previous battles, it is proving a little harder than normal to heal, do you know of anyone with herbs that I could request assistance from ?"

His eyes looked haunted and had a strange darkness to them.

He lowered them from her gaze, and said with a wry smile, 'Once again I will be in your debt, but I am hoping that you are going to find a way of allowing me to repay this before it gets too large "

*avuela " maternal grandmother

** My honour and life " a term Tallain's house uses to convey a debt that will be repaid.

It was early the next morning Rho and Tallain found themselves ready to depart from Gabrim's farm. As usual Liliala had packed them enough food for a week, despite Rho's protests that if everything went according to plan, the would reach Minas Tirith in close to two days. But the woman quickly reminded Rho that one could never be sure all would go according to plans, so more food was better than not enough.

After Rho and Gabrim had tacked up both horses and had led them out of the barn, the two waited while Tallain said good-bye to his other horse.

'Are you sure you two should be departing already? Tallain still has that serious wound, and you Rho, you still could use another day's rest." He finally asked.

The shieldmadien smiled at her friend knowing he was right, 'You know I would stay if I felt that I could, it's not often I get sit around for a day or two and just rest. But the sooner I get Tallain away from here the better. And now with the Star of Earendil not appearing in the evening sky for two nights, well, I fear there are some darker forces at work too."

'I am ready now..." Tallain spoke as he walked up behind them. But just then the cheerful voice of Treada running up interrupted him.

'Rhola, this is for you." And as the young girl reached the shieldmadien, Rho was presented with a beautiful purple wildflower.

'Thank you Treada," Rho responded as she knelt down, hugged the young girl, and then took the flower. 'I will braid it into Tamir's mane so I can look at it while we are traveling." Then as she stood up, the young girl then went over to Tallain and presented the Easterling with a yellow wildflower. It was clear to all that the man was clearly touched.

After saying their good-byes, Rho and Tallain mounted their horses and slowly began down the road away from the farm. Just as they reached the trees, the two turned around and waved to the family one final time, then they turned left and urged their horses forward as they turned off the road and onto the narrow trail that led north.

For Tallain's safety, Rho and Gabrim had agreed that it would be best if the two did not travel on the South road until they were well beyond Pelargir, and both had decided that this route would be the best way.

As the sun continued to rise and warm up the day, beautiful songs of the wild birds graced the Easterling and the shieldmadien as they continued to ride in their own silence. Rho had noticed that Tallain had seemed a bit more distressed since yesterday, or perhaps it was concern. Whichever it was, she was reluctant to question or to push the man for any explanations. It had been apparent to all he had been overwhelmed several times by the kind treatment he'd been receiving. It fact he was so moved at one point he offered Gabrim his mare, and then became quite embarrassed when he remembered she was now dead lame. It took much reassurance from both Rho and Gabrim that despite her current condition, the little mare was indeed a good horse and would be a welcome addition to the family.

Rho continued to play back all the events of the last two days as they rode on until her mind settled on the previous afternoon. After they had both eaten and bathed, Rho and Tallain spent a short time talking, and then had returned to the guesthouse where she had attended to the Easterling's wound. It was a deep wound; about 6 inches long, located under his right arm and ran towards his chest. And while it didn't look infected, it clearly needed to be stitched and bandaged. Grateful for some of the healing skills she'd been taught over the last year, Rho did her best and when she was finished, and had packed up her supplies, the two returned to the outdoors and found a spot near where Chirion was sleeping to resume their talk.

But their conversation was short lived when Liliala appeared only to discover that neither one of them had any thing even remotely clean to wear and would not leave them alone until she had provided them both with temporary clothes and had taken all of their clothing to wash it herself, at the same time promising to repair the one of Tallain's shirts.

It was then that Gabrim and Treada returned from town and the man had quietly pulled Rho aside, while the young girl went off to help her mother. It turned out that the entire town was talking about the fact that the Star of Earendil had failed to rise the previous night. He also informed her that two of the five Haradrim spies who'd been captured a few days earlier, had somehow escaped, although Gabrim quickly informed her that the latter was not common knowledge.

Rho's mind came back to the present day when the trail took a sharp turn to the east and she noticed they were about to immerge from the shadow of the trees. Gabrim had mentioned that when they had reached this point, the South road was not far off.

Sure enough, a short time later, they'd reached the road, turned left, and then headed north to Minas Tirith.

As the flames from the evening campfire continued to dance, Bryttar found himself deep in thought after the conversation between the knights-in-training had ended and the two other trainees had moved over to their bedrolls. Several minutes passed by before his thoughts returned to the present, just in time to see Alandriel slowly leaving the light from the fire with Vana close behind. Bryttar quickly rose to his feet and decided to go to the right and circle back around in case there was something actually out there.

A few minutes later the Rohirrim quickly found himself coming up behind a Haradrim man with his weapon drawn. When he reached him. Bryttar then placed the edge of his dagger at the spy's throat.

'I would suggest that you drop your blade."

The Haradrim tensed for a moment, and Bryttar pushed the blade a little closer.

'I wouldn't do that if I were you." The Rohirrim quickly added. 'Right now there are at least two blades within striking distance and an arrow pointed directly at your heart."

The Haradrim man chuckled, but then slowly lowered his blade until it dropped on the ground.

Both Alandriel and Bryttar held their position, not moving their blades one inch from their current position. 'Vana, could you please get us some rope? I think we have him under control' Alandriel finally spoke up.

Vana slowly let down on her bow, and then turned away. A minute later she returned with some rope as well as with Lady Elenath and a few curious dwarves who wanted to see what was up.

Together the mentor knight, Alandriel, and Bryttar were able to tie their prisoner hands, and then lead him back over near the fire where they then bound his feet as well. Meanwhile, Vana had her hands full trying to stop the Dwarves from rummaging through the Haradrim man's pack. But eventually she was successful and finally able to bring the small pack, still intact, over to the fire.

Much of the next two hours consisted of the knights going through the man's pack and asking him questions of him which he would not answer. The Haradrim's only reply was to sit there starring directly into their eyes with a smug smile upon his face.

Finally Lady Elenath decided that they shouldn't waste any more time with this man, and decided that each one of the knights would take a turn keeping watch over the spy during the night. Bryttar offered to take the first watch.

When morning finally came, all of the knights were ready to travel on. However, none of them had slept very soundly. And surprisingly enough, even the Dwarves were quiet now that there was a prisoner in there midst.

Before they departed from the camp Lady Elenath asked the three knights-in-training to quickly go over the area where the spy had been apprehended to see if any additional clues could be found. After doing a good and thorough search of the area, Vana, Alandriel, and Bryttar all reported back that nothing else had been found and the only unusual footprints in the area belonged to the spy himself. This also informed them that the Haradrim was traveling on foot and not horseback.

So as the group finally departed from their latest campsite, the spy, who was still bound, now found himself sitting on the back of one of a wagon and facing directly towards Bryttar and Alandriel who were bringing up the rear.

As the morning progressed into early afternoon and the group continued to travel south, there were no further incidents to cause any concerns. The prisoner remained silent and calm, and Bryttar noted that he almost seemed content. Or he at least traveled as one who had no concern over his upcoming fate.

The Rohirrim was about to say something to Lady Alandriel about this, when Vana called out. Apparently the peredhel had spotted two riders off towards the distant horizon. They were traveling on the South road and heading in their direction.

The encounter with the Haradrim spy had unsettled Alandriel more than she would have cared to admit. Despite the cool of the night she was flushed and hot, unsettled, her mind troubled. Neither their search of his belongings nor their attempts at questioning the man had been successful; and just where he fitted in with the information she had so far received the ranger was unable to deduce. All of it was disturbing'.

Alandriel was relieved that Bryttar agreed to take up the first watch, affording her a much needed respite. And so, while he took to his duty and the rest of the camp settled down again, she walked off to a small brook she had noticed earlier during her rounds. Settling into the soft, moist grass at its edge, she cupped her hands and drank eagerly from the clear stream. Having quenched her thirst she took off her tunic, then the jerkin and splashed cool water all over her face, neck and chest. The gentle night breeze made her moist skin prickle with the cold, but she welcomed the feeling, closing her eyes and drawing deep, steadying breaths.

Feeling refreshed and much calmer she took hold of her travel shirt and slipped it over her head. She was just about to reach for her jerkin when she noticed, for the first time since leaving the city, the touch of the warm silver pin against her chest. Immediately she realized the difference. Surprised, she unfastened the clasp and the small jewel came to rest in her palm. Her eyes widened. Not only was it indeed warmer to her touch than before, it was also glowing brighter. She pondered this turn of events when, all of a sudden, her ears picked up the sound of heavy footsteps not far off to her right. She straightened and her head shot up, turning to take in the shape of an approaching figure. The pin dropped from her hand as she reached for the eked lying in the grass beside her.

'Woa, lassie! You gave me a good fright," the startled dwarf half shouted half grumbled. 'I was just going for a "'argh! Ahh, ya know'too much ale..." he continued, uncomfortably shifting his weight and making some hapless gestures. Alandriel smiled. The crude manners of his folk so far had not gone unnoticed.

'Then, by all means, do what you need to do, Master Dwarf and get back to sleep," she answered, relaxing once more. 'Dol Amroth is still far off so rest while you can."

The dwarf however, did not move. He cocked his head, took a few steps closer and ventured, pointing to a spot in the grass from where a soft glow emanated:

'And what's that? That thing that just flew out of your hand?"

There was no chance to hide it now. Alandriel sighed and recovered the brooch, then held it out for the dwarf to see.

'Hmmm'..", he growled in a low tone, walking over and then shot her a questioning look. Alandriel held out her hand further and his chubby fingers, to her surprise, took the pin gingerly. He turned it slowly several times while the ranger watched him silently and intently. Eventually the dwarf shook his head, handed the pin back and then fixed the woman with a frown:

'From Erebor this is'. no doubt'..the snails there are particularly famous for their beauty and size. But this is most strange'. that you should have such a jewel'..it's the kind of thing a dwarf woman would possess." He shot her another, most bewildered look. 'And it glows and is strangely warm'.How come'.?"

'It's a gift," Alandriel retorted haltingly, not willing to reveal too much information to a strange dwarf. But seeing that he was not satisfied and was about to voice another question she quickly added: 'It's the only thing that I have left that connects me to my family. They have all perished now. As to why it glows and emanates heat'. I do not know."

'You should speak of it to Dalchar, he might know something'." The dwarf grumbled while stifling a yawn.

The ranger nodded and then mumbled her farewells as he took off. Her eyes followed his dark, stocky silhouette until it disappeared from view, then she focused once more on the pin, lost in deep thought. How long she sat like that she did not know, questions upon questions tumbling over each another in her mind.

Eventually, she fastened the pin to its place again and stood. It was no use brooding like this! Bryttar deserved to be relieved. She could continue her musings while keeping an eye on the prisoner and the camp. At least, that way her inability to relax could be put to some use. Gathering her belongings, she walked back to the camp.

****

'Bryttar! My turn! " she called out softly to the Rohirrim who stood guard next to a wagon, ignoring his questioning look at her absence from the company.

'Go take a rest. I can't sleep right now anyway."

Bryttar nodded, mentioning that there had been no movements from the sleeping prisoner and settled into his bedroll. The hours passed without disturbance and when finally sleep crept over the ranger, she woke Vana who took the last watch.

***

The next morning early they broke camp and continued on the road. The sun was slowly etching its way passed midday as the ranger and the Rohirrim were silently riding as rear guards behind the wagon of the prisoner. Alandriel like Bryttar had studied their charge over the last few hours, but she was still far from reaching any kind of sensible conclusion. The prospect of being rid of him soon pleased her though, as she suspected Lady Elenath would hand him over to the authorities as soon as they'd reach Pelargir.

Bryttar was about to address his companion when a cry rang out. It was Vana. Guiding her horse slightly off to the left, the ranger strained to see what had caught her friend's attention. Dust was rising from the road up ahead and she could make out the shape of two riders, approaching at a measured pace.

She shot Bryttar a questioning look but he only shrugged and said: 'We'll find out soon enough." They fell back into their place. Shortly after, Lady Elenath's hand came up and the company ground to a halt again. The two riders stopped at the head of the column. Alandriel and Bryttar both stood in their saddles to gain a better view and then turned to each another as if in reassurance that their eyes had not been tricked. Both their faces lit up in surprised astonishment and with pleasure as they realized just who it was that was now greeting their mentor: Rho!

Alandriel quickly called out to the next wagon and ordered a couple of dwarves to change position and take station, temporarily, in the vehicle of their prisoner.

When they were in place they both spurred their horses and rode up to the head of the column, falling in at Elenath's and Vana's side. Alandriel's face flashed a broad smile as she took in the familiar figure of the shield maiden of Rohan who sat relaxed, holding her reigns, her face tanned from long days under the hot Eastern sun. But that was not the only flattering addition she soon came to realize as she listened to the exchange between her and their mentor. An ornate dagger hung from her belt, its jewels glittering in the sunlight. It and the black, long sleeved shirt of silk she wore strongly reminded her of Moujhadin. It seemed then that her travels had been successful and, obviously, quite rewarding.

Then her eyes strayed to the figure that had so far been only half visible from the ranger's vantage point as Rho turned in her saddle to present her companion. The ranger's eyes widened. Rho had brought an Easterling along! She saw his dark complexion being somewhat lightened by a tired if not weary smile and noted he sat with a slight hunch. Their eyes met for a split second as the introductions were made and for Alandriel that glance hit her in a full blow of a deja-vu.

Drawing in a forced breath she watched his every move intently and with mounting curiosity and concern. His demeanour was reserved and watchful, yet also courteous. Studying the stranger, dressed, to her eyes, in the splendid attire of his people so similar to one that had wrecked havoc in her life she could barely suppress the urge to cry out. She vowed to take the first opportunity that presented itself to speak to Rho first and then to confront him. She had to know.

The air was pleasantly warming to Tallain as he and Rholarowyn rode at a gentle pace through the trees towards the north road. Neither talked much, although it was a companiable silence as both of them had much on their minds. He could see her faithful companion Chirion, loping in and out of the bushes ahead, his nose always keen to sniff the air for impending danger.

Tallain was enjoying the gait of his horse, who he had now officially named Vento " a colloquial term for Wind in his mother's tongue. He was also feeling physically well, although the wound in his side still pained him, Rholarowyn's ministrations of simple but effective healing skills had ensured it was clean and well on the way to closing. Tallain felt as close to happy as he had felt for a very long time, maybe even a year. He was extremely well fed, he had slept in a comfortable, warm bed for 2 nights and had been treated as part of a family who were themselves warm and inviting.

He closed his eyes, letting the cool breeze that was lifting the heat from the air, ruffle the hair on his head, and thought back to his previous day at the home of Gabrim and Liliala.

After having had a welcome bath and requested assistance from Rholarowyn, they had not been able to exchange many thoughts as she had spent some time cleaning, dressing and stitching his wound, before their talk had been interrupted, though in a welcome manner, by a scolding Liliala who had proceeded to remove all of Tallain and Rholarowyn's spare clothes, admonishing them for not having asked her to wash them before.

Tallain was reminded so much of one of his åma's at home, that he was rendered speechless and unable to resist Liliala's intent until it was too late. He had then spent some time with Treada, which had been most welcome for him as he missed his little sisters greatly " she had enjoyed his stories of life on the road, and he had performed a number of courtly bows to show her how his father expected to be treated, being rewarded by peals of laughter and then subsequently, a beautiful yellow wildflower.

Tallain smiled to himself, remembering her earnest face, and how he had been so touched that he had covered his feelings with a flourish of thanks and a swift brush of his lips against her hand, before calling her 'My Lady' which had elicited blushes and grins from her kindly parents.

Indeed, he had so enjoyed his stay, that during a talk to Gabrim, he had offered him his lame mare, and then felt terrible after remembering her ailment, although the family had assured him that she would be most welcome and would heal " a fact that his senses confirmed after feeling their delight.

Yes it had indeed been a most eventful 2 days. He had managed to talk a little more to Rholarowyn and she had convinced him that his wound needed yet further healing, that he was still not out of danger and should continue to accompany her Northwards. As he had not yet travelled to the fabled city of Minas Tirith, Tallain had enthusiastically agreed, for once not doubting that her quiet relief sensed by his gift was for his well-being, rather than fear of him.

Tallain's quiet reverie was broken by the memory of his dreams, that had repeated over and over, awakening him with a scream of fear, and leaving his body covered in a layer of sweat.

He had only understood a little of what Gabrim and Rholarowyn had exchanged regarding the failure of a 'Star' to rise in the heavens, but it appeared worrying enough that the warrior intended to make a hasty trip to Minas Tirith. A small worry wormed its way into his mind, making him wonder whether the darkness he sensed in his dreams possibly had something to do with the sudden dark in the heavens, but he also decided not to mention anything unless Rholarowyn told him about her concerns. He did not wish to appear scare mongering and worried just because he had bad dreams.

And yet - Tallain turned to look with curiosity at the warrior - the cloak she wore in his dream was of definite import as its detail and power had increased with the second dream, as had a little clarity surrounding the faces of those who fought with Rholarowyn against the Evil.

He also remembered a small detail that had become clearer with the 2nd dream " a large twinkling diamond-like jewel that hung, turning in the sky and was slowly swinging over the 2 groups of fighters, like a pendulum .. he frowned remembering yet another feature " the fact that as it swung, the success of each group seemed to either grow or lessen depending on which way the jewel was swinging ..

Tallain shook his head .. this was far too complex for his simple mind on this day .. he preferred to enjoy the day and the sun, and the fact that he was riding an extremely good horse in the company of someone who, although not speaking, had made no secret of the fact that she valued his presence and in some way, his company.

As the sun reached midday, he saw a large group of riders and wagons ahead. Rholarowyn stopped and scanned the group ahead, also noting that Chirion's manner was relaxed and indeed anticipatory, motioning him to move off the road, which he was about to do, and then her face relaxed into a broad smile " he quickly scanned her feelings, but they were filled with pleasure, happiness and .. relief in some way.

At that moment the wound in his side twinged sharply, and he hunched over to avoid the acute pain. Vento skitted sideways, responding to the change in pressure, and he had to calm the bay down, with a reassuring burst of feeling and a pat on his strong neck.

Tallain looked up, seeing a group of riders approach at speed at the head of what looked like an escorted caravan. He quickly scanned them as they came closer, seeing dwarves in the rear and then 2 beautiful and commanding elves, dressed in good quality armour and carrying excellent looking weapons. His gaze strayed over a young rider who was looking very pleased to see Rholarowyn " a close friend perhaps ? Tallain could not tell but it was clear that he was self assured and confident. Tallain smiled wryly " at least he himself was presentable and not dirty and in need of a good meal any longer.

But it was the female human accompanying them who caught his eye. He saw her as she neared, and at sight of Rholarowyn her face lit up, but when her gaze passed over him, it froze. Her eyes narrowed and she looked both shocked and then suddenly almost angry.

Tallain was taken with her striking good looks, especially the beautiful dark red hair, but most especially with the aura that surrounded her " he had never met someone who was so obviously possessing of magical talent, although elves were always magical in their own way.

Tallain reached out with his gift almost involuntarily, sensing curiosity, some pain and a rising determination as well as a sharp power. He quickly retracted his sensing, not wishing to arouse her suspicions.

As Rholarowyn dismounted and quickly made her happiness known to her comrades, Tallain collected himself, knowing that what was likely to follow would involve suspicion, anger and antagonism. He sighed, it had all been far too good thus far .. then he smiled " well, he would not let it bring him down from his current good humour, and he owed it to Rholarowyn to be as courteous as possible.

Her eyes had not been deceiving her, as Rho and Tallain approached the group of travelers it was none other than Lady Elenath's group and much to her surprise Bryttar was now traveling with them.

Smiling and happy to see some friendly faces, Rho turned to Tallain and gave him a reassuring look. When the two groups met the shieldmadien was quick to make the introductions. Making sure that she introduced Tallain as a friend.

After dismounting, Rho made her way over to Bryttar and gave him a warm hug. It had been close to a year since the two had seen each other. But their reunion was cut short by the gruff voice of a dwarf.

'What is this!?!" He growled. 'We carry a Haradrim behind us and now there is an Easterling in front of us'"

Lady Elenath shot the dwarf a quick glance, which he did not miss. Scoffing he then turned to go back to the others and walked off, grumbling and obviously upset.

Rho then looked over towards the red headed knight-in-training and saw that she was staring at Tallain.

'Alandriel?" Rho called out. 'What is this about a Haradrim?"

The lady broke her gaze from the Easterling. 'He's a spy, we caught him last night and are taking him to Pelargir to turn over to the authorities."

Her curiosity was peeked by this latest revelation, but Rho decided to deal with the necessities first. 'Elenath, we are in need of a rest and have been provided with more than enough food for our journey to Dol Amroth. Shall we all stop for lunch?"

When the Mithril Knight nodded her head yes and then passed the message onto the dwarves there was a mixture of grumbles and cheers from them.

Turning to her cousin Rhowhispered, 'Bryttar please help me to keep an eye on Tallain. He is an honorable man and has a serious wound. He is not up for anything or anyone who could challenge him at the moment."

The Rohirrim nodded his acknowledging her statement, but there were many questions he had planned to ask her later in regards to her latest traveling companion.

When all their horses were secured, and the other were opening up the various packages that Liliala had provided Rho pulled Alandriel aside.

'Where is this Haradrim?" She quickly inquired.

'Over there at the back of the wagon. We have him secured to it." Alandriel replied.

As Rho started off in the direction she had pointed, Alandriel was quickly behind her. When they approached the man, his eyes widened.

'You!" He cried out. 'What are you doing here?" It was the first words the spy had spoken since he'd been captured.

'Rho looked back at the man in disgust. 'I should be the one asking you the same thing. Although I suppose that this really shouldn't surprise me. Tell me how was it you were so careless to allow yourself to be caught by some of us 'inferior' Westrons? That is what you called me, although those weren't your exact words if I do remember correctly."

The Haradrim almost growled as he turned his head in frustration, shook, and tugged at the ropes that held his hands bound.

Turning back towards her friend Rho provided a bit of information for Alandriel.

'This man was in the Haradrim army, one of Moujhadin's men actually. But he deserted him at a rather crucial point in a battle. In fact many lives were lost because of his cowardice, and if I didn't need to travel north, I would return him to Moujhadin myself. Let's leave him be." And with that, the two women walked back to the group and joined Elenath, and Vana as well as Bryttar and Tallain who were sitting next to each other.

Out of the range of the dwarves and the spy, the two Mithril Knight's, the three knights-in-training, and the Easterling, enjoyed the various breads, sliced meats, cheese and fruit. After Alandriel and Rho had joined them, the conversation had begun on some lighter subjects, but quickly progressed to some of the more serious matters at hand including that of the star that failed to rise for the last two evenings as well as Rho informing the group of the two Haradrim spies who had escaped from the prison of Pelargir the day before.

There were several questions presented to Rho about her travels to Harad, what she learned there, and what possible connection there could be between the star, the Clan of the Red Hammer, and the Haradrim, but the shieldmadien was unable to answer. Some she didn't know, others she was unable to say knowing that the information needed to be given to Elbren first before it was provided to anyone else. But the one thing that Rho was adamant about the fact that while Haradrim man they had in their presence was indeed a coward, he was also a very dangerous man, trained in the deadly ways of the Haradrim and the sooner he was turned over to the authorities, the better it would be for all.

Elenath had been on edge all morning. The loss of Earendil's Star had unsettled her more than she would admit to the others. Ever since the Star had first appeared, a sign of hope when all seemed dark, its light had strengthened her spirit. And now it was gone. As she rode, memories rose before Elenath's eyes: she saw again Earendil standing tall on his ship, and then Elwing jumping into the waves, fleeing the slaughter of her people, bearing the Silmaril to Earendil. A shudder ran through Elenath at the thought of the Silmarils: so much pain had come from those jewels, so much sorrow.

She was almost relieved to have her thoughts broken by the arrival of Rho and Tallain. Elenath greeted Rho warmly, remembering the time they had spent together as trainees, and glad to see a fellow Knight. As the group ate their lunch, Elenath questioned Rho as closely as any, but drew back when she saw that Rho couldn't - or wouldn't - tell them much. Her anxieties began to return as they discussed the Red Hammer, the Star, and the Haradrim: in fact, Elenath became so involved in her thoughts that she didn't notice the undercurrents in their small group that would otherwise have caught her attention.

Alandriel's eyes widened in astonishment: Rho knew their captive! The ranger followed their short exchange closely as well as taking in the shield maiden's explanation that followed as they returned to the others. Rho's revelations however did not alleviate any of Alandriel's concerns or questions but rather gave rise to many more. However, since they now had rejoined the group there was no opportunity to press her friend privately. Having finished their meal, Rho relayed her news and tried, to the best of her abilities, to answer the many questions that now freely poured forth. However, she was unable to shed any light upon any possible connection between the events in the South and East and the Clan of the Red Hammer.

Tallain had sat quietly through most of their discussion in close proximity to Bryttar. To Alandriel it seemed curious that the Rohirrim should take such a 'close' interest to the Easterling when she suddenly remembered how Rho had caught her stare earlier and then had exchanged a few whispered words with her cousin. Rho no doubt knew of Alandriel's impulsiveness when it came to dealing with Easterlings; but was she seriously worried? Concerned enough to have assigned Bryttar to guard the stranger?

Alandriel turned her gaze once more to Rho, Bryttar and then back to the Eastron and a small smile curved her lips. 'No, you have nothing to fear from me, not while in such company', she thought. 'Yet I will find out'.."

How she would accomplish that was clear in her mind, for she had caught how the young man had shifted his position several times and how his jaw had been set, only relaxing when having readjusted his cross-legged position. That and the memory of the way he had sat somewhat hunched on his horse and how he had carefully dismounted left no doubt in Alandriel's mind that he was injured. All the ranger needed was an opportune moment'.. and she had to get rid of Bryttar.

A short time later Lady Elenath was called away by Dalchar. The dwarf seemed anxious and pointed to the sky, the afternoon waning fast. 'We will have to push hard if that's possible with the wagons' Alandriel mused 'or ride in the dark if we want to make Pelargir tonight." These thoughts were echoed a moment later when the elf returned and addressed the company:

'The hour turns late and we must be on our way. Make your preparations." Then she addressed Rho: 'And I need a word in private with you before we leave."

As they wandered off in direction of the tethered horses, Vana looked at her fellow trainees:

'Are you coming?"

'Let's go then," answered Bryttar as he picked himself off the floor, extending a helping hand to Tallain.

Just then Vana caught a movement out of the corner of her eyes and as her head turned, the trainee's eyes followed the same direction. Alandriel gasped: the Haradrim was standing and holding something to his mouth, facing the direction of the two Mithril Knights. How could that be? The ranger was stunned for a moment but Bryttar and Vana reacted immediately. The Rohirrim yelled out in warning: 'Rho'Lady Elenath!" , then sprung up and sprinted into their direction. Vana jumped for the wagon with an agility only possible of those whose veins carried elven blood. Yet before she could reach the Haradrim, he turned and at that moment Alandriel saw that he held a small tube to his mouth pointing now directly at Tallain. 'Tallain!" she yelled out in horror, realizing the possibility that he would be struck by a poisoned dart any moment and threw her full weight against the Eastron. They both tumbled to the ground.

Moment's later and still pinning the Eastron to the ground, she raised her head and yelled: 'Vana! Bryttar!! Are you all right?"

As the group watched the two riders approach, Lady Elenath and Vana could both see clearly that they wore Easterling garb. Also it wasnt hard to see the friendly face that accompanied. Vana smiled but said nothing at seeing Rholarowyn again. They had not been close friends but Vana respected her and her ability to handle herself both with weapons and the like.

As they drew up with the Lady Elenath, Vana noticed the pain that Rho's companion was in. Kind exchanges and introductions were made. As Rho's companion lowered himself from his horse it was evident that he was wounded and that he was tended to already so Rho must have been seeing to his needs on that manner. It was not hard to see the disqust on Alandriels face for the Easterling but she didnt do anything to make a move on her apparent feelings so Vana didnt worry about it at that time.

Vana's senses were on high alert with a Haradrim spy and an Easterling that was wounded along with the wagons they were seeing to Dol Amroth. So many things with the missing Star of Earendil, it seemed as if nature itself was warning them of the dangers that lay before them on their trek to Dol Amroth. Not knowing what to expect or where from, Vana remained on alert her senses scanning with her eyes all around them and her ears listening for the slightest sound out of the norm.

When suddenly there was a movement from the wagon that the Haradrim was in. Vana turned to look, the others eyes followed her sudden shift in her thoughts and attention. To see him standing no longer bound, Vana jumped up and moved with graceful speed, grabbing her bow and an arrow from her quiver then moving quickly to the wagon in hopes to stop the spy. Bryttar shouted to the Lady Elenath and Rho. Alandriel froze for a second and then realizing that the Haradrim had a weapon to his lips she moved with swiftly knocking down the wounded Easterling and shielding him with herself. Vana let her arrow fly.

Once she had the Easterling down, Alandriel shouted to Vana and Bryttar to see if they were okay. Vana's arrow had pierced the heart of the Haradrim and dropped him at the tail of the wagon. His body fell off the wagon with a sickening thud. The blow pipe lay still near his lips and the poisoned dart slid slowly out of the pipe and lay beside him. He never got a shot off before his life was snuffed out. Bryttar stopped when he fell then moved up to the wagon. Vana stood as if frozen in time, she was breathing fast and felt as if there was no other course she could have taken. Looking down now and feeling a bit sick to her stomach she moved away and walked out from the camp, letting her bow fall to the ground near the wagon.

The Lady Elenath moved towards the wagon with Rho as Bryttar stood there. Alandriel helped the wounded Easterling to get to his feet and make sure she hadnt broken anything open in her attempts to aid him.

Bryttar started to move in the direction Vana had gone when Lady Elenath took his arm.

"Let her go, she will return. She just needs a little time." She smiled at the others then got two of the dwarves to dig a small ditch to bury the Haradrim in. She explained they didnt need any dead weight on the wagons as they needed all the speed they could get now.

By the time the others had readied their horses Vana returned quietly. Alandriel had retrieved Vana's bow and was holding it for her. With a gentle "Thank you!" Vana mounted her horse, Alandriel returned her weapons then Vana rode behind the wagons for the rest of the trip that day and night.

Tallain leaned carefully back, he felt tired, but it was a good feeling. The herbs that Rholarowyn had dressed his wound with were beginning to work hard at the healing process and he could feel the torn edges of the wound working to pull together. He pulled the sensing away and looked at his companion " Rholarowyn had introduced him as her cousin, Bryttar, and Tallain could see the family resemblance.

Bryttar had behaved as courteously as Tallain could ever wish someone in the West to be towards one of his kind, but then, he supposed that was because Bryttar must know of Rholarowyn's dealings with the Easterlings she had mentioned but in passing in their brief talks together.

He found himself warming to the young man who spoke with enthusiasm of the beauty of his land " Tallain was intrigued and interested and both soon talked of their experiences travelling through the lands of the West.

Tallain noticed that the red-haired lady, Alandriel, was watching him. He could sense that she was .. waiting " anticipating almost.

Tallain narrowed his eyes, wondering what was happening .. what subtleties was he missing ?

Suddenly he jumped to his feet as Bryttar turned, saw the spy that the group had caught in their camp earlier standing, unbound, and threatening Rholarowyn. Bryttar immediately ran towards Rholarowyn and the Lady Elenath shouting a warning, Tallain tried to help, when he caught the Haradrim turn and place a tube in his mouth, aiming it at himself.

Tallain was caught completely by surprise, as his gift rose, involuntarily to help him, he hammered into the man's head and caught snatches of thoughts, and flashes of images, they whirled into his head, freezing him with their intensity, before Alandriel called out his name and threw herself against him, out of harm's way, as the dart went whistling past the place where his face would have been.

He lay beneath her as she called out to her comrades, checking they were well. His head was pounding by the words he had caught from the man who just tried to kill him, from the images " an eagle, a wolf, stars in the sky, a parchment with a familiar picture, and the words - Destroy the Breaker of Dreams " Destroy him .. Destroy him ".

Tallain shook his head to clear the strength and intensity of the imaging, and soon became very aware of the lady who lay upon him .. her gaze was almost as powerful as his own, and his awakened gift reached out to her almost involuntarily.

Already intense, Tallain felt supremely and wonderfully alive, he could smell the strong scent of honeysuckle, the grease from the axles of the wagons, the cook fires being put out .. the subtle perfume that surrounded the lady so close to him. And he could feel .. suddenly he felt something in particular, a shape, almost burning him, pulsing with a strange aura, from the inside of Alandriel's tunic. He closed his eyes and almost saw it " a stunning broach made of silver, so intricately carved, so beautiful, a snail.

He struggled to gain control of his gift and felt a name " Erebor " echo around in his head, competing with all of the other images, he knew not whether he had said the word, but he knew it was important " then his gift recoiled from the power of her magic as her eyes met his again.

His mouth was dry but he knew he had to say something to break this connection before it engulfed him " he fought the gift back under control and smiled at her wryly before saying :

'My Lady ! We have only just met ". And already I am in debt to you twice over " once for saving my life, for which I thank you greatly, and secondly for allowing me to admire your beauty at such close proximity."

Bryttar was both relieved and shocked when one of the two riders turned out to be Rho. The relief came from seeing her safe and sound from her journey to Harad, but he was shocked to see she was traveling again with another Easterling. 'Had her previous ventures with the other two not caused her enough problems already?" The next surprise came when Rho had asked him to help protect Tallain. While the Rohirrim quickly complied he wondered exactly who it was Rho felt the Easterling needed protection from.

But it didn't take Bryttar long to warm up to the man, especially when the two started talking about their various travels though out the land, and it was then that the Rohirrim began to understand why Rho wanted to help him.

When the conversation between the two men had died down, Bryttar stood and offered his hand to the Easterling and then helped the man up. But suddenly he detected a quick movement out of the corner of his eye.

'Rho, Elenath!!" He shouted, and sprinted towards the two Mithril Knights.

But Vana's quick reflexes stopped the Haradrim in an instant, and the next moment he lay dead upon the ground.

Bryttar watched as Vana walked off, and he felt he should say something to her, but then he looked over at Rho who stood staring at the Haradrim's body. The look in her eyes was distant.

'Vana! Bryttar!! Are you all right?" Came the question from the red headed knight in training.

'Yes, Alandriel." Bryttar answered quickly. 'We are all fine."

Slowly the Rohirrim walked over to his cousin. The look on her face hadn't changed.

'Rho?"

But when the Mithril Knight didn't reply, he placed his hand upon her shoulder and tried again.

'Rho!" And then she looked towards him.

'What is it?" Bryttar asked, knowing that it was not the close encounter with death that had affected her this way.

Slowly she turned to him. 'I can't tell you now, not here, but I do need your help. We need to take all of his personal belongings off of him. Not his clothing, but everything else."

Then Lady Elenath's voice reached her ears and Rho heard her tell some of the Dwarves to begin digging a grave for the body. Silently Rho agreed. Considering the circumstances, it would be for the best.

Quickly Bryttar and Rho searched the man and removed several items from his various pockets, including more of the poison darts, coins, several very small bundles of herbs, along with several other items that Rho didn't take the time to explain what there uses were.

When the two had finished removing everything but a small leather pouch tied to a cord around his neck, Rho then asked Bryttar to go get the Haradrim's mans pack.

Bryttar quickly made his way over to the wagon and was about to pick up that pack when he saw a nail sticking out of one of the planks. Below the nail was the frayed rope that had once bound the man's hands.

Picking up the pack, the Rohirrim turned around and saw Rho take her Haradrim knife, place it just under the cord that was holding the small pouch, and then quickly she sliced though it. Setting the pouch down beside her, he then watched as she took the spies hair, which was bound together by a leather cord, and in one quick stroke with the blade, the Haradrim's ponytail was lying loosely in her hands.

The last two things that Rho did while he stood watching was she removed the arrow from the man's chest and laid it down beside her, and then she spoke something in another language.

'Jihiyndi ulta b'neld wita, oe jihadi shi'ur s'ahi'latshna im'kalelah. Neld b'neld ravdol, tsayka." *

When she appeared to be done, Bryttar finally approached her.

'Rho," he said gently as he knelt back down to the ground. 'What exactly is going on here?"

He watched as his cousin took a deep breath and then listened as she began to explain.

'There is much about Haradrim culture I still don't know, but while I was in Harad, Jiyadan taught me many things about how they handle the death of their warriors, the honorable ones as well as the dishonorable ones. This man was a skeldak, a deserter or a traitor. And so I am treating him in such a way."

Then Rho picked up the small pouch. 'See this? Not all Haradrim's wear this, but there are some who still do and they believe that their essence is tied to this pouch. By removing it I have severed that connection the man has to his spirit. But I'm not sure if what I'm supposed to do with it now since this is a much older custom, so I've also placed a Haradrim death curse upon his spirit. As for his hair, well I made his hair short since long hair is Harad is a sign of status to which this man is no longer entitled, even in death."

Then Rho handed both the pouch and the ponytail to him, along with the arrow and asked him to place these things in the Haradrim's pack.

'What are you going to do with this pack?" Bryttar then asked.

'I will take it with me to Minas Tirith and then send it to Moujhadin. There is a messenger who travels between Harad and our land from time to time. I know he will be able to take it safely back to Harad. The pack, pouch, and the hair will be proof to Moujhadin that indeed this man is now dead and he will know what to do with the pouch. I'm also including the arrow since this is what killed him. I think that Moujhadin will be proud to know that this skeldak's death came from a pierced heart."

When he had placed everything in the pack, and had returned it to the wagon, Bryttar then went over and checked on the hole. He was pleased to see that the dwarves had worked quickly and had almost finished. After watching for a few moments he then returned to Rho. Together they lifted the body over to where the dwarves stood and they laid it down.

The dwarves worked just as quickly to fill the large hole back up, and Bryttar watch his cousin closely, examining her expression. The distant look had returned, and the Rohirrim wondered what all had happened to her while she was in Harad. 'What had she seen? What had she experienced?

When the grave was covered Rho then looked over to him. Suddenly she seemed to connect herself back to her current surroundings.

'Bryttar! Tallain? Where is he?" The Rohirrim turned around and looked over to where he had left the Easterling. 'He's right where I left him Rho, sitting over there, next to Alandriel."

(*Your ghost will find no peace, and your spirit will wander the deserts of the dead. You have no honour, animal!)

Lady Elenath set as fast a pace as the horse-drawn wagons would allow. No one complained, not even the dwarves, relieved to put distance between them and the small earthen mound that stood out amongst the grassy knoll where the Haradrim lay buried.

Apart from the rumblings and creaking of the sturdy, iron reinforced wheels and soft clatter of hooves there were no other sounds intruding on the soft rolling hills, now cast in gentle light of the waning afternoon. Slowly the shadows were lengthening. It seemed to Alandriel that they not only encroached on the landscape, but also invaded everybody's mood.

The ranger rode on in silence, flanked by Bryttar and Vana, her hood drawn deeply over her forehead. The almost hypnotic rhythm of her horse's trot brought back scenes of the last few hours' events. They played out vividly before her inner eyes as she immersed herself into the recent past as if it were the present.

~~~

Her head was almost touching the Easterling's as she shielded his body with hers. Her chest rose and fell like a storm beaten wave as she drew in almost painful breaths to steady her wildly beating heart. With senses strung to almost breaking point she mentally reached out to Bryttar and Vana, desperate for their answers. She dared not move, still acutely feeling the deadly threat, and tried to focus on Tallain's dark eyes only inches away from hers. Was he still alive? His gaze blazed and Alandriel felt a power well up in him as if a torch had been set on fire. As his energy surged her mind reeled and before she had a chance to consciously interfere, her reflexes kicked in. Her eyes snapped shut tight, the contortion furrowing her brow, as the mental shield wall shot up with a force and speed she would not have thought possible. She felt him waver and then the word 'Erebor' escaped from his lips. The sound seemed to shatter into a myriad of pieces against her barrier, each shard pounding it's meaning against her defences. Erebor! Erebor! Erebor! Over and over ". Just as she felt she would shatter and be torn herself, everything stopped.

Eyes still closed, slowly recovering from the ordeal, she remained motionless for a moment when Bryttar's voice broke through the receding rushing noises in her ears:

'Yes, Alandriel, we are all fine'.

A sigh of relief escaped her lips. She opened her eyes. Her gaze was met by wry flickers emanating from two dark orbs, dancing up to her. Mocking her? Teasing her?

'My Lady ! We have only just met ". And already I am in debt to you twice over " once for saving my life, for which I thank you greatly, and secondly for allowing me to admire your beauty at such close proximity."

The irony and humour of his words was not lost on the ranger. Her soft chuckle brushed off all awkwardness and hid her discomfort as well as the last tremors of strain that still echoed faintly through her body. She pushed herself off, came to a squatting position and offered him a hand up.

'Beauty indeed!" she laughed. 'There you are truly mistaken. But since you are a foreigner to these lands your ignorance can be forgiven. I am sure that once you have travelled these parts more extensively and have better acquainted yourself with the many wondrous sights it holds you will quickly revise your opinion. There are many inns, many towns and villages with far more delightful creatures than me ". you lack experience it seems."

He had pulled himself up now and regarded her somewhat puzzled. Just what was that woman implying?

'However, as for being in my debt'." She shrugged. 'Thank your Gods that my reflexes sometimes override my mind.. you owe me nothing." The words fell harsher than she had intended and she bit her lip as she silently cursed her uncalled for insolence.

Seeing his eyes narrow, she quickly decided to turn the conversation onto safer grounds.

'All is under control now - look! Bryttar, Rho and Lady Elenath are now are taking charge of the Haradrim' he's dead. And Vana'." her eyes searched briefly for the figure of the peredhel, then she pointed, 'ahh. She's over there'. they're all fine."

Turning her head back to look upon Tallain she added casually yet pointedly: 'You however are injured and my throwing you to the ground certainly has not benefited your wound. Let me have a look'. ", adding with an encouraging nod after noting his hesitance: 'Please'., I am a trained healer and promise, I will not hurt you."

Somewhat reassured yet still reluctant, Tallain allowed himself to be led to where Alandriel's travel pack lay on the ground. 'Sit down' she demanded gently, yet from her tone it was also clear that she would brook no opposition. He complied as the ranger busied herself unpacking various satchels and unravelled strips of bandaging material.

She gingerly undid his bindings then gently probed the wound, surprised that the cut had not sprung open again through his fall.

'You are lucky' she said and then asked: 'Has Rho taken care of this?" When he gave an affirmative nod Alandriel smiled. 'So Rho has not forgotten what I taught her' she thought warmly but then a suspicion crept into her mind. 'Or maybe you have an extraordinary gift for recovery'."

As her fingers rested on the slight swelling temptation to find answers ran high. For an instant their eyes locked and a mutual, cool and silent yet respectful appraisal took place. Her finger trailed off.

'Just who and what are you? And what do you know of Erebor?" The questions repeated over and over in her mind as she skilfully applied new bandaging. No. There would be no answers, not this time. She knew that any attempts would be doomed for, although appearing calm and composed, she had not entirely recovered from the earlier episode.

"

And so she had finished her task, packed away her belongings and without much more than simple goodbye's they had parted. Rho and Tallain rode off into the opposite direction to where their caravan was headed and as the distance between them increased ever more, she made a small truce with herself:

'Whoever, whatever he was and how ever he would fit into the scheme of things " for that he had yet to play a role and that their paths would cross again she had no doubt " did not matter right now. There was nothing to be gained by fretting endlessly other than more confusion and dismay. All would be clear'. in time'. And with that last comforting thought she banished Tallain from her mind.

Tallain watched as the group rode off " he felt torn, more confused and uncertain than he had at any other time since he had left his homeland, in haste and with little to call his own.

Who was she, that redhead who had bewitched him, who had stormed into his life, shared something unique with him and then coolly and calmly left, without so much as a parting glance. Were all women in the West so " no, he could not call her cold. His eyes closed, recalling the way her lips had parted, had almost touched his, her deep gray-green eyes overwhelmed with the feelings that he was passing to her ". The suddenly, he had felt a shock, as though .. Tallain frowned, yes, al though she had shut him out.

He took a step back, grimacing with the sharp pain in his thigh where he had struck a rock when he had fallen. Was this possible ? Could his gift be blocked ? he sighed deeply, realising how little he actually knew about what he was capable of, and how unlikely it was that he would ever learn how to use it fully.

Turning, he regarded his comrade " Rho " who was watching him as she readied her horse to leave. Chirion, too was sitting, in the shade, tongue lolling out, examining him.

He did not meet her eyes, afraid that his emotions would be mirrored in them for her to see, unwilling for her to witness how much the encounter with Alandriel had changed him. Instead he once again turned to the dust cloud that was growing ever fainter in the horizon, feeling as though eh had lost a part of himself. He knew that he was deliberately not giving thought to the words and images from the now dead Haradrim spy, for they were even more disturbing.

Tallain turned, at last, when he could no longer see the retreating figures, and said a silent farewell, quietly, with all of his heart and soul in the words, beneath his breath, whilst touching the tips of his thumbs together, then to his mouth and lastly to his heart "

Ralahn korass t'ouj es'prando

Pra dakah, cabil'ruel tija *

Then he made his way, slowly, still feeling the touch of her hands on his wound, the smell of her hair, the cloud of scent that floated around her as she moved. Reaching Vento, he rubbed him down with some dry grass, knowing that Rho would want to be moving soon.

For her part, she remained silent, wrapped in her own thoughts. Tallain had not been witness to the ritual curse she had bestowed on the traitor.

Together they pulled their belongings into various packs, resaddled their horses and after a quick check around the campsite, Rho nodded her agreement that all was ready for them to take their leave.

Tallain swung himself carefully onto the bay's back, steadying him as he settled himself into the saddle. He gave the horse an affectionate pat and promised him a proper grooming once they had reached their next destination.

As they rode North once more, he watched Rho. She seemed deep in thought and having his own demons to wrestle with, Tallain left the questions he had for a more propitious moment. They rode until dusk, Tallain felt himself relaxing as the motion of his horse drove away the tendrils of worry and concern. The wind was picking up and lifting the dark hair from his face, and he could see Rho steadying her horse as he snorted at leaves and branches.

'They just love pretending they are afraid of nothing, " Tallain remarked as Vento skittered across the road, Rho grinned in agreement and even Chirion bounded from one side of the road to the other, snapping at leaves.

Night found them ready, having searched for a suitable camp site as they rode, and spied a fairly sheltered clearing away from the road but not too deep into the grasslands surrounding them.

Rho insisted on taking charge of the horses, arguing that she was not injured and that he did not need to open his wound up yet again. Tallain bowed graciously in thanks, before taking his bow " he balanced it in his hands, running them over the smooth yew arch, feeling the swirling letters that were carved into the wood. He tested the string, tightening it and testing the pull before shouldering his quiver and setting out into the grasslands to try and catch something for their meal together. Rho watched him leave, restraining her instinct to stop him for fear of his wound reopening, recognising that he needed to feel as though he was contributing. She nodded to her wolf, and with a shake, Chirion loped after the Easterling. Smiling, she turned back to her horse, grinning as her pockets were nuzzled.

Tallain crouched, testing the wind and keeping as still as possible. He was glad of the companionship that the wolf offered, even though he knew it had been Rho who had sent him " he did not speak, slowly listening for sounds that would tell him a meal was near. Chirion's ears pricked and he stood stock still and soon after, Tallain saw them, a herd of small deer, the antlered male leading them through the tall grasses, nose and tail twitching as he picked his way slowly. Tallain breathed out, eyes skimming over the animals, before picking his target " a small buck, not yet mature. He would not harm the herd by culling one of their does or the leading male, but a youngling such as this would not hurt overly. Ever so slowly, he pulled an arrow from the quiver, tested the fletching and fitted it " barely breathing, he sighted the target , drew the arrow back and honed his sight in on his quarry, not allowing himself to move until he felt at one with the deer. Chirion kept still as stone, only moving once the buck was felled and lay still, the rest of the herd had fled as soon as Tallain's arrow had found its mark. Smiling, Tallain rose, stretched and made his way to the animal, he pulled his belt knife, laid his fingers in the buck's blood and tasted it on his tongue, before offering a similar taste to the wolf, unthinking. He was actually surprised that Chirion did not take his fingers off, but the pair appeared to be working as one, hunter and shadow.

Then he grunted as he shouldered the animal and made his way back to the camp.

Rho had already started preparing a meal, and was delighted at his catch. Tallain insisted on preparing the meat, knowing it was his duty as the hunter, and when they finally sat around the fire, the meal had been worth the wait.

As the flames danced in the shadows, Tallain sat back. He felt full and strangely content, but he knew the questions were starting up again as he turned to Rho

'My lady Rholarowyn "" he started .. then hesitated until her eyes urged him to continue .. 'Tell me, who were those people we met on the road, are they your friends ? I am sorry .. but there are so many questions I have .. so many things have happened " " his eyes looked suddenly haunted, the words Destroy the Breaker of Dreams drumming over and over through his head.

*My heart forever awaiting

for you, redhaired sweet beloved

As they rode on and the sun began to set the three trainees rode in silence each lost within their own thoughts of the happenings of this day.

Vana still hearing the ping that the arrow made and the sound of it connecting with the target. Then the sickening thud that the body made as it hit the ground. Vana let a tear roll down her cheek but kept her feelings locked till such time as she could deal with them in private. She had always wanted to be a Mithril Knight and she had known that it would mean that at times she would be called upon to face an enemy and to deal with death, but she had not dreamed that it would be so hard. Though she wasnt a healer she had helped in the houses of healing and found pride in cheering others up as they recovered from their malady. This was a new feeling that she knew she had to deal with as it was certain not to be the last time she would be called upon to do such a duty of necessity. She needed to let go and know it was the will of Eru that she was there and could do what she had done to save her companions from an evil threat.

They rode for the remainder of the day and knew that at first light they would find themselves in the city of Pelargir. So with bated breath they rode on hoping to finish this leg of their journey without any further delays or incidents.

With the first light of morning, the group ate breakfast and then found themselves back on the road. Within an hour the city of Pelargir came into view, and a half hour later they were venturing into the city's streets. Lady Elenath finally called the group to a stop, began to list off the items that needed to be resupplied, and then appointed various tasks to the knights in training as well as the dwarves. However, it had been decided before they had ever reached town that Bryttar would be the one to seek out Bandoril, the captain of the Pelargir guards, and inform him of the Haradrim spy and his fate.

So as Alandriel and Vana quickly headed off in one direction while several of the dwarves took off in another. Bryttar left Lady Elenath and a small group of dwarves protecting the wagons in search of Bandoril's residence. After a brief meeting with the captain and learning a bit more as to what the current fear was as to why so many Haradrim were now in the area, the Rohirrim made his way back to the wagon and informed Lady Elenath of this latest news. A short while later the other returned and after a quick bit of lunch the group headed out of the town on the westward road that would take them to Dol Amroth.

Finally, seven weary days later Lady Elenath, the knights-in-training, and the dwarves passed through the city gates of Dol Amroth and were making their way through the streets in the direction of the Mithril Knight Guild house.

They entered Pelagir only briefly, mostly to restock their supplies for the long journey west and by mid-day the company was well on the road again. Seven days and seven nights passed uneventfully. On midmorning of the eighth day an excited and relieved grumble went through the ranks of the dwarves as their destination came in sight:

Dol Amroth!

Never before had Alandriel set foot into the towering coastal hill fortress.

As their caravan neared the massive buttresses the ranger tried to remember some shreds of the countless fire side stories and legends that had been relayed by her DunŽdain company during many a long watch. There was an elven connection, that much she recalled but any exact details were lost to her. Something about the fortress having been built on what once were elven harbours and that being the reason why its citizens were believed to carry elven blood in their veins. Briefly she glanced over at her fellow trainee Vana, a peredhel and therefore of a mixed bloodline herself. She wondered: would she feel somewhat at home here? Vana's countenance seemed to have lightened since their approach, but then that might only be due to the fact that their long journey and mission was about to end. How would it all end?

The company rode on and as the road took a sweeping turn, a particularly stunning tower came into full view: Tirith Aear, the seaward tower, built in defence against raiders. Prince Imhrahil ruled here, a legendary man of whom Alandriel had heard reverent talk. It was rumoured that he was a descendant of a mixed bloodline stretching back centuries to a union of a Nœmen—rean and an Elf. He had fought side by side with King Elessar during the war of the ring, that much she knew, and also that his daughter had wed King ƒomer. Yet whether he still ruled here or not, Alandriel was not certain. A good number of years had passed since and maybe one of his sons had succeeded him.

Although the keep was centuries old, it had lost none of its commanding splendour. Brightly coloured flags, gleaming with silver and gold were flying high in the stiff breeze proclaiming its majestic power. Countless seagulls dived recklessly among the spires and turrets. Their cries, intermingled with the sounds of rolling breakers washing up against the rocky promontory, filled the air that Alandriel now drew in deeply. It smelled very different to the scents of woodlands, mountains, hills and flatlands the ranger was used to and left a salty, sharp yet fresh taste in her throat. She smiled: never before had she been so close to the sea. There was a special, almost tantalizing quality in the deep blue of the ocean that drew her eyes ever further to the horizon; to that fine line that separated the waters from the heavens. A sense of deep peace and awesome splendour warmed her heart. She hoped that with the end of their mission almost within grasp, they would be granted some time to rest. The soft sands that lay interspersed between many large boulders dotting the tidal edge beckoned to her and she longed to walk the ever shifting paths where water met land.

Her reveries were interrupted when she realized they had almost reached the gates. Lady Elenath rode ahead of the company and exchanged some words with the guards. Recognizing her mithril cloak, they stood to attention and soon waved the company to proceed. Alandriel quickly dismounted and un-strapped her saddle. Ethalon gave a content snort at the prospect of not having to enter the confines of the walled keep and the ranger gave him an affectionate pat before shouldering her saddle. 'See you soon' she whispered and with a spirited neigh the brown stallion took off. Alandriel fell in behind the last wagon and proceeded on foot through the winding streets. The company drew to a halt outside some buildings. Lady Elenath, now having dismounted, waved her to come close as she assembled all trainees. Dalchar stood waiting expectantly, almost impatiently, off to the side. With astonishment the ranger saw, that Lady Elenath stepped up to a non-descript house, wedged between an herb merchant and a blacksmith shop. She bid the three gather close and then said, her tone taking on an almost conspiring note:

'It seems un-remarkable does it not? Un-distinguishable from the other houses ". but look closely'."

Her fingers began to trace hitherto invisible lines.

'Here'. And here'"

Vana gave a small gasp. It seemed the peredhel recognized some faint symbols. As Lady Elenath traced the lettering again, clear runes emerged from the frames of the wooden doorway. They were easily recognizable now to all three trainees who had gathered ever closer. She smiled at the astonishment and wonder so clearly painted on the faces of her charges. As the runes slowly faded again she said, and this time it was a sense of pride that permeated her voice:

'This is the Mithril Knights Guild House of Dol Amorth, situated - as you will know if you paid attention - in the far southern quadrant of this fortress city." This elicited some smirks and a few nods. 'Although it is probably one of our smallest guild houses it contains, as all guild houses do, a library, a feasting hall, kitchens and resting rooms' and, of course, an armoury."

The fact that it also contained one special room that always remained locked she did not mention. All of a sudden the heavy door swung open and a Knight in full Mithril Knight livery greeted them. Lady Elenath entered and they were led to a large room, the feasting hall by all appearances, where they unloaded their packs and weapons.

'Your horses are being cared for at this very moment and we can take small refreshments while the dwarves make ready to unload. However, we do not have much time as I want you to supervise the transfer to the armoury and there," a smile crept over her lips as she knew the next piece of information would greatly interest her trainees, 'you will find out what it was that necessitated our escort."

Alandriel raised her eyebrows. 'So'. the moment will finally come', she thought with a mixture of excitement and concern.

They helped themselves to some mulled wine and soon most of the weariness of the long ride was forgotten.

'I shall take council with the steward of the house' Lady Elenath explained as they left the hall again and then pointed down the torch lit corridor to a massive set of double doors that now gaped open. 'That is the armoury' she explained, 'and I want you to make sure the dwarves don't mix up the boxes. They need to be stacked according to size, where ever you find enough space." Nods again confirmed that all understood. 'There will be one box' she continued, 'that stands out from amongst the others. This one will need to be placed separately."

Was the Eldar talking about the large sized box they all had seen being carried separately in its own wagon? Bryttar ventured a question to that effect, but Lady Elenath shook her head and smiled:

'No, that was the decoy. You will instantly recognize the box I'm talking about when you set eyes on it; and it's not its size or weight that distinguishes it from the others. However, do not attempt to open it, that task shall be mine and Dalchar's. I will see you shortly." And with that she excused herself and strode off down one of the side corridors.

As she disappeared from view, muttered curses were heard ringing through the hallway, followed by the appearance of the first dwarves, huffing and puffing under the weight of the massive boxes. It was decided that Bryttar would supervise the unloading outside, while Alandriel and Vana would take charge of the stacking inside the armoury.

The transfer went without mishap and eventually the second last box was brought in closely followed by the last and most massive chest they had eyed and speculated over for days. Bryttar strode in after the heaving and straining dwarfs, grinning in anticipation and shrugging as if wanting to let them know that he had unsuccessfully tried to assist the carriers. The massive chest was directed to a spot next to one of the lesser piles and Vana asked the dwarves to put down the other, by all appearances much lighter crate. When the dwarves had left, the trainees exchanged curious glances and then crowded in to the centre of the room, where the crate had come to rest. Vana pointed to the rather plain box and then a low whistle escaped Alandriel's mouth. The ironwork on the hinges and locks, three locks actually, was exquisite.

The silence in the room was suddenly broken by the slightly echoing sound of soft footsteps, soon followed by the noise of heavy boots treading their way. All three trainees turned to take in the graceful, stately figure of Lady Elenath accompanied by the stocky Dalchar emerge from the doorway. The elf now carried an ancient looking key on a strong chain and took up position at the front of the crate. Dalchar came to stand by her side and produced two similar looking but much smaller versions of the same. Lady Elenath inclined her head; Dalchar nodded and inserted his keys, then turned them. After he stepped back a few paces Lady Elenath inserted hers and a loud click almost made the three trainees start.

As Lady Elenath and Dalchar swung the lid open, Alandriel's eyes widened. She gasped. In shock she staggered backwards and had it not been for Bryttar standing close and steadying her, she might have lost her footing. Seconds later Alandriel broke free as her hand flew to her chest. Her fingers grabbed hold of the brooch, ripping it clear of the fabric where it had been attached to the underside of her tunic. Through the violent movement the clasp snapped open and broke. The small shred of material to which it had been pinned floated to the ground.

Astonishment and bewilderment clearly written in her face, her eyes darting back and forth between the chest, her mentor and Dalchar, Alandriel fully opened and extended her hand: the snail brooch lay in her palm, throbbing with wave after wave of light and heat.

When Elenath entered the room, she smiled slightly to see the three trainees huddled around the box at the center of the room. She joined them, Dalchar with her, the weight of the key in her hand. She caught Dalchar's eye and nodded: the dwarf came forward, inserted and turned the two keys that he bore. He stepped back, and Elenath inserted her key. With a loud click, the lid sprang open slightly.

The dwarf and the elf lifted the lid together, but whatever thoughts Elenath had at this moment were banished by Alandriel's reaction. The girl gasped, staggering, then tore a brooch from her clothes. It was the snail-shaped pin which she had shown Elenath back in Minas Tirith, but now it was glowing strongly. Elenath's eyes snapped down to the box: there was a cloth laid at the bottom of the box, and this cloth was finely stitched with a pattern using the shapes of snails. The very same shape as the brooch Alandriel was holding out. She looked over at Dalchar, but the dwarf made no sign, merely watched the brooch silently.

"Look," Vana half-whispered, pointing at the box. A glow was rising from inside, which began to pulse slightly in time with the light from the brooch.

"What's going on?" Bryttar asked, an edge to his voice.

Elenath didn't answer, but instead bent over the box. She reached inside, and lifted up the sword, holding it up so that all could see it. Her fingers touched the jeweled hilt and the rune-etched blade almost reverently. The light of the lanterns glinted along its edges, but the sword itself was also shining with its own light. Elenath's eyes went from the sword, to the brooch, and back again before she spoke.

"This is the sword named Orcrist, a blade that was forged ages ago in the realm of Gondolin. As you may know, this sword came into the posession of Thorn Oakenshield many years ago, and at the time of his death it was buried with him beneath the Lonely Mountain." Elenath paused, and a touch of sadness came into her face. "There was another sword of Gondolin which survived also, and was found at the same time as this one, but it no longer lies in Middle-earth." The elf fell silent, apparently lost in thought, not seeming to see the others' questioning looks. Beside her, Dalchar cleared his throat with a low rumble, and Elenath raised her eyes to look at him.

For endless seeming moments Alandriel stood motionless, as if rooted to the ground. Wide eyed, her gaze darted back and forth between the pin, the box and all present. Dalchar's countenance slowly changed from what at first had been alarm. He scratched his beard several times and seemed deep in thought. When Lady Elenath lifted the blade clear from its encasing, Alandriel was able to see the weapon in its full splendour: Orcrist " the Goblin Cleaver! She had not known that the weapon had survived intact. And the blade glowed, just like her brooch, yet not with the fierce blue flame for which it was well known and feared like its twin Glamdring. As her mentor turned the blade reverently several times in her hands, it finally became clear to Alandriel that the soft pulses emanating from the blade matched those of her brooch. Drawn, she stepped closer but stopped short when Dalchar cleared his throat noisily and came forward, positioning himself between the ranger and Lady Elenath.

He frowned deeply as he fixed the ranger. Expecting a sharp outburst or a barrage of questions Alandriel steeled herself.

Yet all he said was: 'How did you acquire this, young woman?"

Young woman? She almost affronted by that remark but then realized the dwarf had most cunningly applied the term to snap her out of her state of shock. Her fingers curled around the brooch and, almost protectively, she held it tight in her fist as she relayed the tale once more.

After a long silence, Dalchar scratched his beard again while grumbling. Then he spoke:

'Long time ago, when Dwarfs had' dealings'. with elves, brooches were made for our woman folk."

This elicited raised eyebrows from all around. Not much was known of dwarf women and it was apparent that Dalchar was uneasy to divulge much. He continued somewhat haltingly:

'Actually, to be precise, only one brooch per clan " each one specific to each area. The one you hold belonged to the dwarves of Erebor."

Dalchar almost gritted his teeth before continuing: 'They had magic abilities. Just like Orcrist, they react to the presence of'."

He growled several insulting sounding words then hissed, reverting back to westron speech: 'Orcs! Foul creatures. Curse them!" He spat on the ground but regained his composure somewhat when he noticed Lady Elenath's stern glance. He went on with his narrative:

'They were given to the wives of the clan leaders'.you see, dwarf women play a very active role, especially the wife of a leader and will often head a hunting party or take part in finding new sources of ore'."

So! The brooch was not only a stunning jewel but a warning device. Alandriel nodded.

'We thought them all lost. Yet here you stand, you, a human lass, and hold one of our most priced possessions. It came from Erebor, not from anywhere else that much is certain. These jewels never left their assigned area. And you can guess at why it glows. I must leave with my company at once and return. Something terrible has happened'"

'Then take the jewel with you!" Alandriel almost shouted, 'It does not belong to me."

'I was not the one who took it and so it is not my task to give it back."

Here it was again! The implication that she was a thief! But before the ranger could interject, the dwarf said:

'Besides, if I touch the brooch it will be a bad omen."

Alandriel frowned in disbelief and astonishment, her mind quickly recalling the incident of nine or ten days ago, when she had been surprised by one of Dalchar's men. She shook her head. Dwarves and their superstitions! That certainly did not make any sense. Or maybe it was just that Dalchar was avoiding'.. something.

'You take that pin to Erebor' he said resolutely, 'Maybe you will find answers to your questions there. I cannot help you."

Turning to Lady Elenath he gave a short bow: 'I will take my leave now and return with my company immediately. I fear the worst."

'Not so hasty, Master Dwarf," the Eldar stopped him. 'Although I do understand your concern and urgency there is yet one task for which you must be present." He would have to witness the sword being placed in the secret room as had been agreed. 'Also, there is news I need to share with all of you."

'My lady Rholarowyn "" Tallain started' then hesitated until her eyes urged him to continue .. 'Tell me, who were those people we met on the road, are they your friends ? I am sorry .. but there are so many questions I have .. so many things have happened ""

Rho looked up from the fire and gazed at the Easterling as he continued to speak.

'Yes they are my friends, but they are Mithril Knights too, well at least Lady Elenath is. She and I went through our training together. The other three, Alandriel, Bryttar, and Vana are all knights-in-training. They are currently going through their training process. If they pass then they will be initiated into the Mithril Knight Guild.

A look of confusion crossed Tallain's face. 'Mithril Knights?" He asked.

'Of course, he doesn't know." Rho thought to herself.

'I'm sorry Tallain, I forget that not everyone in Middle Earth does not know of us." Rho then went into a rather lengthy explanation of who the Mithril Knights were, some of their history, and just what it was that they did. She also shared with him tales of some of her own adventures and duties she'd been a part of.

The Easterling seemed to accept this explanation as Rho went silent again and looked back into the fire. After several minutes of silence she spoke up again. 'I know that a lot has happened to you in the last few days, and I bet you have more questions than answers at the moment. Perhaps I can better answer them for you tomorrow once we are in Minas Tirith. We should be there tomorrow afternoon. As for now, I think that I need to get some sleep and from the looks of things I bet you could use it to."

***

By the next afternoon Rho and Tallain had arrived in Minas Tirith, yet all hadn't welcomed their entry. Before the two had approached the city gates, Rho had taken out her Mithril Knight cloak and draped it over her. Under normal circumstances she did not need the extra recognition, but the last time she had approached the White City with two Easterlings, all had not gone well. This time she was only travelling with one, and she wasn't taking any chances.

When she had pulled the cloak from her pack, Rho had noticed the paled looked on Tallain's face but thought his expression was related to their entry to the city. 'There is nothing to fear." She said trying to reassure the Easterling. 'I'm just going to make sure we get inside quickly."

And indeed they had been given entry and quickly the two headed for the Mithril Knight Guild house. Upon there arrival, the servant who answered the door was relieved to see her, and shocked to see an Easterling standing next to her. But after a short conversation and a gentle reminder that upon a Mithril Knight giving their word, that a person or persons would be accepted as guests in the Guild house, therefore Tallain should be accepted and treated as such.

A short time later, after Tallain had been shown to his room another Mithril Knight came to Rho and showed her the letter that had arrived only the day before. It was from Elbren and he requested any available Mithril Knight to make their way to Mirkwood as soon as possible. The two Mithril Knights remained in the room talking for almost an hour until Tallain appeared after having a bath and putting on clean clothing.

Shortly thereafter, the other Mithril excused himself and Rho and Tallain made their way to the dining room where they were dine alone. As they waited for their dinner to be served, Rho smiled and looked at the Easterling.

'I have received some disturbing news from Elbren and will need to be making some decisions here very soon. But last night I promised you that we would talk and I think it would be best if we took advantage of this opportunity now to do so."

Tallain schooled himself to patience following Rho's response to his question.

The concept of a society of Knights, that she appeared to belong to, who assisted each other and followed a specific code appealed to him in a way he did not think possible. All his life he had been searching for something, sure that he had a role to play, a part to fill, but never quite managing to reach his goal. He had been reviled, spat upon, hated, pitied and ignored.

But never before had he been welcomed and treated as Rho had treated him " he felt he had a debt to her that he could never begin to repay and that to refuse her request to wait at this time would be the utmost rudeness.

So the Easterling held in his anxious questions, his yearning to know more, and contented himself with listening to his companion's stories, feeling an envy for her experiences of comradeship and friendship that he could not begin to explain. Chirion came over to him as he kept the watch, touching his nose to the young man's hand and offering comfort. Tallain smiled, thanking the wolf for the gesture, but stayed awake most of the night as he thought over the momentous events that had taken place in the last few days, and watched the empty place in the sky that loomed over his head. He thought also of his dream " he was certain now that it had something to do with the Order Rho had told him about, and he could not wait to find out more.

The journey to Minas Tirith was uneventful " they rode hard and fast and Tallain revelled in the easy silence that he and Rho shared, so different from the experiences he had from previous journeys.

His arrival at the White City was momentous for the Easterling as he had heard much about this incredible place, and yet his attention was drawn not to the rising spires, the beautiful gates wrought in mithril or the sounds of birds and children playing from within the city, instead Tallain was drawn to Rho's cloak that she had lifted from her bags and now lay across her shoulders " its midnight blue, the silver runes that sparkled on and through it, mesmerised him, once again he could hear the sounds of battle, the way the darkness had threatened to overwhelm all.

Rho offered him some reassurance, obviously reading his look as one of surprise at the city, and Tallain forced himself to respond, even though his senses were reeling at the memories of his dream.

They made their way swiftly to what Rho called the Knights' 'Guild House' and he once again was conscious of the looks even the citizens of this fair city gave to him " Tallain wondered if he would ever get used to the look of loathing and of disdain, but then forced himself to smile back at even the blackest look " it was after all what he had always done.

Once inside the Guild House, Rho made sure he was settled and disappeared. Tallain enjoyed a much needed bath and made himself presentable before seeking out his companion once again. He found her in one of the sitting rooms, deep in conversation with another Knight, so he presumed, who treated him with the utmost respect and courtesy before excusing himself.

Rho took Tallain through to a dining room and as they waited for their food to arrive, she turned to him, smiled and told him

'I have received some disturbing news from Elbren and will need to be making some decisions here very soon. But last night I promised you that we would talk and I think it would be best if we took advantage of this opportunity now to do so."

Tallain took a deep breath, sorting through his thoughts before making his first question " then at last he could hold back no longer ..

'My Lady Rholarowyn, firstly, thank you once again for your continued care and hospitality " as I have said before it has been something most welcome to one such as myself.

I " I would like to know more about your Order " and about whether you were ever involved in a battle, with elves, against the forces of blackest night ?" .. Tallain saw the Knight's face change to a more guarded look at his words .. he felt angry at himself that his choice of words should have upset her in some way and decided then and there to tell her about his gift " he HAD to tell her, to explain how he knew his dreams were important.

'I apologise if my words have brought you anger, that was not my intent. Let me attempt to explain why I have asked what I did.

Since my 14th birthday, I have had an ability, a 'gift' my mother called it, and indeed in many cases it has proved so, but it has also been a curse in others."

Tallain's eyes took on a haunted and troubled look ..

'I can 'feel' what others feel, sense when they are upset, angry, hurt, I can almost 'read' them through their emotions. This has often made me 'sensitive' in that my dreams many times pick up danger that is ahead of me in my path, or matters of great import. Although this is not always the case, I know when I dream in a certain way, it means something that I deny or ignore at my peril."

Rho's eyes seemed to bore into his own, but he moved his eyes away from hers, unwilling to see what he was sure was there " disbelief, worry and upset that she had maybe been 'read' by him against her will. All these he was sure she would be feeling and he fenced his gift away from her, willing it not to touch her soul and mind.

'The night I slept at Gabrim's, I had a dream " I witnessed a battle such as never before had been seen, with High elves fighting against the darkest and blackest of the Evil Lord's might. But then I also saw you, wearing that cloak, and surrounded by people who I did not know, their faces were hidden from me, but I knew they were your friends. As I ran towards you, the battle changed and I was running in the sky, surrounded by the familiar and luminous stars, a comforting and welcome experience. However it soon changed as a darkness surged forth from the east, and one by one it sucked the light from the stars, spreading out and pulling all into its grasp until I feared it would swallow the world " then I awoke. I have had this dream twice now " in the second one, there was a jewel " it seemed to balance above the battle and influenced its outcome " I did not sleep last night but I am sure that it would have returned had I done so."

Tallain stopped as their food arrived, and let Rho think these revelations over before prompting her for a response. He knew she must be worried that perhaps he had not been as honest with her as she had thought, but he truly did not like sharing the knowledge of his gift with people as seldom did they understand or wish to know even, it was a private thing that he had little control over but, somehow, he wished his rescuer to understand.

"News?" Vanaladiel asked quickly. "What news?"

Elenath pushed thoughts of the strange brooch to the back of her mind. "A letter from Lord Elbren was waiting for us here at the Guild House." She turned to Dalchar. "You were right to suspect that things are not right in Erebor, Dalchar. The Red Hammer is attacking." Dalchar hissed, but Elenath went on, turning back to the trainees. "Lord Elbren has summoned us to join the Knights, with all possible haste. We have one more task to complete here tonight," she glanced toward Dalchar, who nodded reluctantly, "then first thing in the morning we will leave for Mirkwood."

That night, while the trainees prepared to leave, deep within the Guild House Elenath and Dalchar placed the box containing Orcrist in a secret room. There were other items there already, but Elenath followed her instructions and touched nothing. When the door had closed behind them, Elenath turned to Dalchar.

"I'm sure you will be returning to Erebor now, Dalchar." The dwarf nodded, looking distracted. "You would be welcome to journey with us," Elenath continued, "but we will be pushing our horses to their limit, and..."

Dalchar waved his hand. "Don't worry, Lady Elenath. We would be more comfortable travelling on our own."

Elenath nodded. "If you need anything, just see the steward, and we will do what we can to help. I wish you and your companions well on your journey." The dwarf nodded brusquely and strode off down the hall. Elenath took one more look at the now-closed door, then left as well. There was much yet to do in preparation for their departure.

---------

In the morning, the trainees were woken before first light. Yawning, they assembled by the stables, where Elenath was waiting with the horses. Alandriel walked beside the others until they had left the city, and she was able to rejoin her horse. Elenath glanced at the others. They were riding light, carrying the bare minimum they would need for their trip to Mirkwood.

"Is everyone set?" she asked. Alandriel, Vanaladiel and Bryttar nodded, their faces solemn. "Then let's ride." Elenath nudged her horse and whispered in his ear, and he sprang away, the others close behind him.

With the Lady Elenath's words "Lord Elbren has summoned us to join the Knights, with all possible haste..... first thing in the morning we will leave for Mirkwood!" Vana's head began to swim. She was excited by the news of returning and showing her Uncle that she had done well on her training so far..........but she too, dreaded the return.

Would he make her stay and say her training is silliness? Would he let her continue with her training or would he place her back within her station? Vana was afraid of the answers. She could never go back to just being a lady of Mirkwood nor just the niece of the King. She knew what she wanted now.........to be a Mithril Knight..... not only in heart but in spirit as well. She knew she wanted to do what needed to be done to protect the innocent of Middle Earth and to keep tyranny of the dark forces at bay. She was a part of something now that she had only dreamed of and yet now she had been there and though her heart was tried with the actions she had taken to protect the others she knew that this was the life for her. To fight beside the others as a Mithril Knight!

Resting fitfully that night, with the struggles of how she would face her uncle should he try to stop her from continuing, she was roused before the dawn and joined the others at the stable. There the Lady Elenath met the three trainees with the horses. Ready they were to ride as soon as Alandriel was joined again with her horse. Facing a new task the four rode on through the dark to their next destination........Mirkwood and the Lord Elbren!

When the food arrived Rho glanced over towards Chirion and smiled, pleased to see that the cook had also remembered her wolf companion's dinner, then she returned her gaze to Tallain. He's face still showed traces of concern.

'You've just shared some interesting things Tallain." Rho finally spoke up, wanting to alleviate some of his fears at least. 'As for this special'well gift as you call it, I have heard about others who have similar powers, and have known a few who were probably gifted like you." Then she stopped and took a few bits of dinner, wanting to choose her next words carefully. His mention and question of a battle reminded her of the Initiation Ceremony, one he was not supposed to know anything about. However, this did seem to validate at least in part of what he'd said about his gift. Quickly decided to move on.

'The battle, the one in your dreams, the first one anyway'.I wonder if what you saw was one that took place many many years ago. Long before my time, but not so long ago to those of the Elven race. Now you said that the battle changed, that you saw me, surrounded by friends. Can you tell me more specifically what they looked like? What the land looked like? Who we were fighting?"

Rho listened intently to the Easterling as she continued to eat. He explained as many details as he could, but when he was finished she knew it was not a battle she'd taken part in'at least not yet.

'As for the stars." She began. 'We know one is missing, and hopefully it will remain just one, but this is the worst star we could lose in our nighttime sky. Now in your vision you said that they, the stars, were being swallowed up from the East'" Then Rho paused, as sudden realization as well as a deep fear began to settle in her heart. The star of Earendil and the jewel he'd mentioned in his vision. Were they one in the same?

'Tallain, do you know about the Simarils?"

When the Easterling shook his head no, Rho began to share with him the history of these three jewels. She told him of their wondrous beauty, the love some people had for them, and the lust and burning desires that had overtaken others in wanting to posses them. For almost an hour, the story continued as the shieldmaiden told him all, including how the two came to their demise and the third had been placed in the evening sky.

'So you see." Rho finally concluded. 'There may be more to your dream than you realize. This star is missing, gone from the evening sky, and it is one of the three jewels created long ago. I wonder if the jewel in your dream and the Simaril are the same?"

Tallain listened with interest as Rho told him about the Silmarils and their place in the history of the West.

He was beginning to wonder whether the jewel in his dream had been one of these wondrous stones, when Rho's question echoed his own thoughts.

The Easterling lay his eating implements on the plate, food forgotten temporarily in his eagerness to reach the bottom of this story.

'My thoughts were following along those lines exactly my Lady. But how could that be ? I had not heard before this day of these 'silmarils' and certainly had no knowledge of their place in Middle Earth. If my dreams are real then whoever holds this Silmaril, holds the key to winning this battle that you are all involved in."

He shook his head, these dreams were unsettling, especially when they brought forth the type of questions he currently had.

'I have to conclude that somehow, my gift is picking up things that are important to you, events you know about, and it is warning me of dangers to come. This has happened before a few times in my past and I ignore the warnings to my peril'."

Then his face grew troubled once again as he suddenly remembered the strange Haradrim and his words before he died "

" There may be more, things that I have no concept of, but that may be tied up somehow in this whole strange situation."

Tallain took a deep breath and told his companion about the Haradrim and his words, of the way he had been convinced that Tallain had to die "" .. he called me the Destroyer of Dreams .. but how could that be ? I have never been to Harad ! I had not had one of these dreams until a few days ago and how can I destroy other people's dreams if I do not even know what my own ones mean ? There are so many questions, Rho, so many questions that I do not have the answers for, but all I know is that something is happening here, and all are related, though I know not how or why'.

He took a deep breath, and then said quietly 'Does my 'gift' trouble you ? I can only assure you that I do not use it unwisely and many times its power comes to me unbidden. "

Rho looked uncertain, and Tallain sighed deeply, wanting more than ever to hear more of her Order. The Mithril Knights appeared to be so noble, so incredibly alike to all the stories of old, of groups of people joined together to fight the Darkness and Evil that threatened to overtake the world " so unlike the menial mercenary work he generally was involved in.

Rho did not answer him straight away, but she did not appear overly distressed by his question, and Tallain asked her again about her Order and what requirements it had for new petitioners. He wanted to know more and somehow he felt within him that he had to do so.

She remained silent for quite some time; thinking and reflecting on all that the Easterling had just shared with her, dreams, Harad, the jewels, and there was his gift. Finally the shieldmadien took in a deep breath and let it out slowly while pushing her plate back just a bit.

'Tallain your gift does not frighten me'well not entirely, but I will not claim to understand it or the information you receive from it. However, I can tell you that what you have shared with me here tonight may be a piece of a larger puzzle. I received word today that Elbren has requested the aid of all available Mithril Knights to make their way up to Mirkwood as quickly as possible. I plan to leave here soon, tomorrow or no later than the day after. Elbren, our Guild master, is a wise elf and I think that he may be able to provide you with some of the answers you are seeking, but I will not deceive you, this could be a dangerous journey. Would you be interested in coming with me?"

The shieldmadien paused for a moment to let the Easterling consider her words, but after only a few moments he spoke up. 'I would like to go with you."

Shaking her head in acknowledgement, Rho quickly replied. 'Then we shall stay here one more day. Tomorrow I will attend to the things that we will need, and you should get as much rest as you can."

Tallain agreed.

Rho spent the next day preparing for their journey to Mirkwood while Tallain did indeed rest. The Easterling was also aided by some of the healing herbs that were kept in the Guild house and one of the guild house servants gifted in the healing arts.

Just after the first light appeared on the following morning, Rho, Tallain, and Chirion rode between the opening gates of Minas Tirith. Turning their horses north, they urged them into a gentle canter leaving the White City behind them.