Evelyn shook her head. "My dear Naerwen, I am afraid I know less than you on the matter." Evelyn leand in closer, eager to learn more. "There are two few of us left, if any at all, in Lorian to keep up with things. That is why I am here." she added eagerly, then fell back to brooding. "What if...scouts were sent to Mordor? You say no one knows what is going on there?"

Evelyn was suddenly distracted by the rustle around her. So, Morfindien had saved Legolas's daughter, indeed? She followed Legolas and Morfindien with her eyes. She had heard of the children of Legolas and Aragorn, and others she had once known, but things in Lorian had kept her from seeing them herself. Perhaps she finaly would. As she watched the two elven men leave, she couldn't help but realize that Morfindien was avoding her eye. He's hideing something...or upset. she thought, then wondering how she knew that, pushed the matter to the back of her mind, and focused respectfully on Naerwen for an answer.

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Naerwen watched after Morfindien a pang of guilt running through her. She could tell from his words, let alone his actions, that he was hurt. Naerwen stood nervously. "My Lord Morfindien. I spoke out of turn. I am also sorry you had to hear about Ruscien this way too. Forgive me," she bowed her head to him before looking up into his eyes. "I am truely sorry."

Naerwen reclaimed her seat and took a deep breath. She looked around the group. "It is clear whatever is going on is to be kept from us until the opportune moment. I wish I could believe that we are not in danger. Unfortunately I cannot. I have witnessed too many orcs in this past while, which leads me to believe that they are multiplying and massing. I only ask if activity has been seen coming from Mordor, because that seems to be the direction they are coming from." Naerwen laid her head in her hand with a sigh. "We have many places to scout, but not the number at our disposal." Images arose in her mind again. Osgiliath burning, masses of orcs attacking Minas Tirith and her homeland left in ruins. She shuddered violently.

(A leggy?)

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( A Legolas )

Morfindien paused on his way out and looked back at her: "I am sorry too," he replied in a cool voice and then turned to face Legolas "My lord- I apologize that you must hear of my sister's engagement in such a way. Ruscien was a fine warrior and would have been a welcome addition to our family. Their marriage would have cemented the political peace our two peoples have come to agree on."
There was a low murmur of concession from the gathered elves of South Greenwood that was.

Rhavaniel downed her drink in one "I cannot believe this is real," she muttered, reaching for Naerwen's "I think I'm dying of embarrassment." As her friend shuddered she offered it to her "Drink, it helps."
Aragorn gently guided her hand back to the table "It may help some, old friend, but not you. I am deeply sorry for your loss. Forgive me-" he leant forward conspiratorially and lowered "I may be out of the loop- Was not Nostariel engaged to Ruscien?"

Rhavaniel choked and spluttered loudly. The noise drew many a curious glance from the courtiers. She gave the king an alarmed look:"My lord! 'tis no laughing matter! My beloved turned his sword on his kin," she hissed angrily. Her face bore stunning resemblance to the duke's. With a deep breath she composed herself and set her courtier's smile back on her face as she turned to Evelyn: "I am told Nostariel and Ruscien were close friends, my lord, nothing more. If they had been engaged, well... Thank Eru they were not. I forget you have not been to Gre- Mirkwood in some years." She took another breath: "I apologize for my brother, it has been many years since he was the diplomat he was in the old days," discomfort gripped her as her companions fell silent. Desperately she continued: "I fear if we send out too great a number we risk drawing attention to our weakness: We do not know where the enemy is?"

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. O r b i s N o n S u f f i c i t .

"It is a strange thing indeed then, that we do not know where the enemy is multplying, nay, that we do not seem to know the enemy at all." Evelyn responded to Naerwen and those around her.

Her eyes widend at Aragorn's muse, but quickly squinted closed as droplets from Rhavaniel's drink splatterd her face. She whiped them away, unhinderd. Evelyn sank back in her chair, musing herself. What with all this talk of peoples beloved dieing, (and people being betrothed to the same person,) and with the outbursts from many of her companions at the table, Evelyn knew there was not only strife from the enemy, but quarrles within their ranks. It paind her, Though she knew it was none of her buisness.

"I am sorry as well, Rhavaniel, for your loss." Evelyn spoke gently but compassionatly, her eyes glistening with genuine sorrow. Evelyn paused, and moved her hand foward on the table subcionciously, as if to take the others troubles. Evelyn's fingertips brushed Rhavaniel's hand, and Evelyn suddenly felt a peace and hope within her, even among the stife - a peace she hoped would be transferd to her companions.

Evelyn withdrew back to herself and sat up, brooding on what was to be done again. "We could..." she said quietly, "send scouts and spies to see what is going on...to Mordor, Osgiliath...and anywhere we deem them nessicary to go: I would find pleasure in compleating the task myself - and offering my serves to my fair friends." Evelyn diped her head in acknowlegement to them, and raised her cup as if to toast them, then drank deeply.

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Naerwen took Rhavaniel's glass and drank. "Thank you, dear friend." Her hands trembled. Naerwen suddenly became aware of her body, it ached with fatigue. Her shoulders stung as did the scar on her cheek. "My lords and ladies. I think it best to retire this conversation tonight. Perhaps we should sleep on our thoughts tomorrow and continue this discussion tomorrow. Perhaps our heads will be clearer and we may even pick up on something we have missed." Naerwen rubbed at her back gingerly.

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Legolas was about to leave the room when Naerwen's words stopped him cold.
Ruscien dead?
Oh, Nostariel! Why did you not tell me?
"My lord- I apologize that you must hear of my sister's engagement in such a way." Morfinden was saying, but Legolas heard nothing more. He knew he was staring rudely at the elf, but he couldn't wrap his mind around it.
Aragorn must have seen the troubled look on his long-time friend's face for he leaned forward and asked,"I may be out of the loop- Was not Nostariel engaged to Ruscien?"
"Very much so!" He could no longer hold back his anger and confusion.
"Ruscien came to me months ago and asked for my daughter's hand; I know not why my father would keep his--" He glanced at Rhavaniel and hastily changed his word from scheme, "plan from me! He knew that we had wished for Ruscien to marry Nostariel, why would he--" He closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose in frustration and anger at his father.
"I am sorry, Aragorn, I just do not understand...I...must go!" Turning, he fled the room with Morfinden on his heels.

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Zirakzigil ai menu Duzhuk! Zirakzigil, at your service!
[~^!?]

( Close to 200 posts! )

Nostariel muttered something incomprehensible, then her eyes closed, and her breathing became more ragged. "No, no, no. Nostariel…" Linnadhiel murmured, "Wake up…"

She grabbed the rest of the water in the glass, putting it on a part of the pillowcase that wasn't bloodstained, and dabbed it on her head. Touching her forehead, Linnadhiel noticed her temperature. She was burning up. "Don't let it take you, Nostariel. You're stronger than that." she encouraged Nostariel. She dared not leave her side.

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Thanks to Lembas for the beautiful banner and avatar! <3

(What about 200 posts? )

Legolas hurried through the seventh level gate, Morfinden on his heels; if any of the other elves followed, he did notice. Charging around another corner, he nearly flew into the houses of healing, wanting, needing any kind of explination from his daughter. He burst through the chamber door, ready to do battle; what he found looked more like a massacre (Ha! I spelled it right! ). Blood-stained strips of fabric littered the floor and Linnadhiel hastily added pressure to Nostariel's bleeding chest.
Valar, no!
"Star!" He was by her side in an instant. She was too pale, save for the fiery spots on her cheeks that bespoke of fever.
"What shound we do?" He felt helpless.

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Zirakzigil ai menu Duzhuk! Zirakzigil, at your service!
[~^!?]

( The 200th post of the RP! You posted the 200th post Neniel
Also, I'm going to be away without internet until Sunday night my time, which I believe is early Sunday morning for America. Linnadhiel is just gonna hang out next to Nostariel's bed. I think I spelled Morfinden right...:I )

Linnadhiel whipped her head around at the sound of the door slamming opening. Legolas. He almost flew to the other side of Nostariel's bed. She smiled a tiny bit. He would know what to do. But his face was void of emotion. Had he already given up?

"Stay here for a bit. I'm going to see if I can find the surgeon," Linnadhiel said rather informally to Legolas, passing him the pillowcase. She got up and ran out the door, going right. She almost ran into Morfinden (?) as she turned out the door, but she managed to dodge him.

She came back shortly after with the surgeon, pulling him into the room. He was panting like a dog, but Linnadhiel hadn't raised a sweat at all the running. "She pulled out some stitches, I think," she explained to the surgeon. He nodded, and started working on her.

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Thanks to Lembas for the beautiful banner and avatar! <3

(Almost right -I'll be away too so I'll see you all on Monday )

Morfindien felt his blood run cold- Legolas had not known? Nostariel had been betrothed to the same man? He followed the prince reluctantly, bound by honour to see to his patient and tend to his liege's son. Of course had pushed for their marriage- Rhavaniel and Ruscien had been so happy together- but it had been the king who had planted the idea in their minds.

As he saw the prince rip the door to his daughter's room, he swore colourfully. Blood had soaked through the sheets- She was bleeding out. He leant back as the one called Linnadhiel rushed out. He shoved his way into the room and took the pillow from underneath Nostariel's head. Many years he had spent in Imladris- He had been trained well. The duke moved the bloody sheets to the floor, throwing them at Legolas' feet without sparing him a glance. It took the royal elf a moment to spring into action, but then he too was tending the young woman.
Morfindien pressed the pillow onto her wound, hoping to stem the bleeding. As the surgeon entered he moved to assist him.

-

The hall erupted into a cacophony of sound. Aragorn looked around helplessly. He didn't understand the intricacies of elvish politics, but even he understood the scandal he had uncovered. The noise was deafening. Arguing broke out, with the two parties calling to each other- insults, questions, opinions- all filled the great hall.

Rhavaniel stood, swaying slightly. The hall fell silent. Aragorn moved to steady her, but she moved out of his grasp with a hiss. She turned and the king took a step back, throwing the women still seated a questioning look.
"I will be excused," the elf said. She moved unsteadily, walking towards the exit with an expressionless face.

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. O r b i s N o n S u f f i c i t .

As Naerwen and others excused themselves, Evelyn's offer to scout Mordor was lost in the Ruscien scafoffel. As others sprang up, Evelyn decided this was not her fight, at least for the moment. She shoulderd her traveling pack as she excused herself - she had not yet been shown a room - however that was no issue to her. She knew where the guest quarters were.

Evelyn decided to take the long way round to them, to give herself a tour, and to clear her mind. Walking always seemed to do that, along with hunting and sparing. Some kind of physcal activity. Evelyn allowed her eyes and mind to wander about the Gondorian acatecture. It was every bit as beautiful as she rememberd and - what was that?

A sudden shuffle up ahead, and murmerd voices caught her ear. She examind her surroundings. Of course, her feet had led her to the houses of healing. The voices must be of Legolas and Morfindien and others visiting the bedside of the Princess of Mirkwood. Curiosity took her, and for a second she considerd a pleasent visit herself...But she suddenly senced something wrong. The voices in the room were paniced, and the metalic smell of blood was in the air. Evelyn could hear the paniced heart beats.

Quickening her pace, she moved to the entrance of the room, and hung in the doorway. What she saw made her heart ach. The young elf maden, bleeding on the bed, her red blood brought out by the whitness of the sheets surrounding her. Her father and others in the room shuffeling around in a panic. No one noticed Evelyn standing there. She stood paralized for another second before takeing a steap into the room and crying, "Wait, i can help!" She looked around at the others as if for permission before takeing a few more steaps into the room.

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(This is probably going to be my only post today, I'm going out for the whole day and won't be back until evening. )

Nostariel did not know what was real any more. Balrogs, orcs, goblins, trolls, and corsairs floated through her fevered dreams making her twist and moan on the bedclothes. The grey shadow hit her again with renewed force; voices surrounded her but she did not care any more, all she wanted was to be left alone to die in peace. Someone touched the wound in her shoulder and a scream rent the air, then everything went black.

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Zirakzigil ai menu Duzhuk! Zirakzigil, at your service!
[~^!?]

Evelyn gasped and shot into the room. She had been going to wait for permission before offering aid, but the sighns were not good. She saw Nostariel's (for so Evelyn had heard her name spoken) eyes roll back into her head as she swooned.

Evelyn placed her right hand on Nostariel's shoulder wound, and the girl fainted completely. "Nostariel!" Evelyn placed her other hand on the elf girls forhead. She felt a fever burn there, and hot blood also gushed over her other hand. Evelyn began muttering and whispering words of power under her breath. She suddenly encounterd a wall, a strain on the magic in her mind. Evelyn gasped and began swetting. She built up all her strenght before crying out,

"Lou Garth Nwalme Le Erin, Lou Fuin; Eruannha en Nenya esta lin ore, Nenya Meleth thalion mae le; Aman en hareth esta nor le!*"

Evelyn breathed deeply as the last words were spoken. For several seconds she stared at the unconcious Nostariel. Nothing happend, and the girl was so white, so feverd. There was an awkard silence. Evelyn bowd her head in shame, fearing the healing had not worked. Suddenly, Nostariel's brow seemd not so hot under Evelyn's hand. Evelyn opend her eyes and stared at the elf girl's shoulder wound. Though there was still blood on Evelyn's hand, she felt no more of the sticky liquid gushing over her hand. She lifted her hand off of the wound. There was no miraculous healilng. The half stitched up wound was still there, but it seemd more closed up, and bled no more. Lastly, a look of peace spread over Nostariel's face. Evelyn breathed in relef. So it had worked after all.

"All will be well in time," Evelyn breathed. She stood up and staggerd, feeling her strengh drained. She quickly righted herself, then bowed and made to leave the room and leave the patient with her family.

(* May no death torment you this day, no darkness: May the grace of Nenya rest on your heart, and Nenya's love and power heal you. May the blessing of the lady rest over you.) (loosley translated)

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The touch that had burned only moments before, changed, soothing away the deep pain and turning it into only a dull throbbing. Nostariel felt the grey mist thicken for an instant, and in that briefest of instants she saw her mother--long dead--standing with her arms outstretched to greet her. But the vision vanished and the mist evaporated, leaving the princess of Mirkwood in a peaceful, dreamless sleep.

Legolas stared in shock as Venessiel seemed to heal his daughter with only a touch of her hand.
Is it magic or witchery?He had no answer to the question in his mind, but whatever it was, his child was no longer hot or breathing as she had been only seconds before. Not knowing what he was doing, he knelt before her, grasping her hand and kissing it in gratitude.
"I and my family are in your debt, Lady."

_________________
Zirakzigil ai menu Duzhuk! Zirakzigil, at your service!
[~^!?]

"Prince Legolas, i beg you do not!" she said gently and made motions for him to stand. "It was not by my poor skill the deed was done-but rather, that of my Lady's." Evelyn spoke of Galadrial. As he rose, their hands still touched, and she suddenly grasped his forarm with her hand and drew him in close and said quietly. "But be on your gaurd, my lord. That was no ordinary wound - it had a spell, a curse upon it, passed on from the blade that made it. I felt it the moment i touched the wound. That is why it would not heal. But what ill magic this is, i do not know."

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Naerwen had remained seated in the hall. Her head firmly in her hands. She sighed deeply with despair. Her friend, Rhavaniel was heartbroken. Nostariel lay on her death bed for all that Naerwen knew. Evelyn was troubled by the news she had come to hear. All of her friends were troubled and it seemed there was no answer to be found. Naerwen watched as the members of the group disembarked.

After another drink of water, Naerwen stood and walked out of the hall. She stood and breathed in the nights cool air. There was a sense of panic in the air and the metallic smell of blood. Naerwen walked swiftly to the houses of healing. Naerwen peered through the window to Nostariel's room. Naerwen watched the comotion inside Nostariel's room, frozen by fear. A whole mixture of emotion ran through her: worry, fear, dread, guilt and lastly relief. Although she was relieved to see Nostariel relax a pang of guilt ran through her at the mention of a poisoned or cursed blade. Naerwen should have known. Bowing her head she left the company to bathe in the relief that Nostariel was safe from the shadows.

Naerwen walked slowly through the streets of Minas Tirith, her eyes cast to the ground. For once her mind was empty, fatigue finally taking over her.

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