Once the darkness had been Nostariel's friend, but this time it was full of dreadful nightmares that made her cry out in fear rather than pain. The events of the past three months, Ruscien, orcs, goblins, balrogs, and the red eye of Sauron mingle together in her mind. Her head tossed restlessly on the pillow as Legolas placed her on a vacant bed in the Houses of Healing, touching her face and whispering elvish in her ear. And then he was gone, he turned and fled out the door, a determined look on his face as he headed towards the seventh level of the citadel.

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Zirakzigil ai menu Duzhuk! Zirakzigil, at your service!
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Naerwen and her companions had been ushered into rooms to recuperate. Naerwen paced back and forth in her bedroom. What have I done? If I had stopped the orcs would have gained on us. But if I had stopped and tended to my friends wound then maybe she would not be in the state she is in now... Her mind was full of turmoil. How could I have been so reckless? Why didn't I spot the orcs sooner? Why did I let my guard down?

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Nostariel was becoming increasingly restless and nothing the healers did could sooth away her aggitation. The wound had been cleaned and stitched up without a trace of infection, but still Nostariel could not be comforted. It was as if a grey cloud hung over her, waiting to devour her.

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Naerwen did not have time to feel sorry for herself. King Aragorn had to know what was happening. He needed to know about the threat that was looming. Naerwen left her belongings in her room. All she took with her was her twin blades that lay in their sheaths around her belt. Slowly she made her way up to the seventh level, pushing her way through alleys, narrow passageways and market places.

Naerwen reached the sixth level where the Houses of Healing was situated. She paused nervously. Her legs wanted to keep moving, but her mind wanted to check upon her friend. Suddenly she threw herself in the opposite direction and made her way into the Houses of Healing. A healer was tending to the gardens in her break. Naerwen approached her. "Excuse me, my lady. I do not mean to trouble you, but could you point me in the direction of Miss Greenleaf's room please?" The healer grunted as she straightened her back. "Sure, Miss. If you take a right down the corridor. Her room is the second on your left." Naerwen bowed her head in thanks and carried on her way.

Her legs seemed to become stiff. Her feet reluctant to move as she drew near Nostariel's door. Biting her lip tightly she raised a hand to knock on the door. Knock knock.

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Rhavaniel had grabbed her opportunity and bolted against her better judgement, pulled along by Nostariel's sure hand. She had swung into her saddle and urged the dark coloured horse forwards, glad that she had managed to snatch up her bow, even if it had meant taking a long sharp cut to her side- It mattered not. Having trained since birth to ignore pain she had snapped her bow-string at the orcs face and it, terrified by the threat of an armed elf had fallen back in fear. It had clutched its face, checking for arrows but by the time it had realised it had been a ploy, Rhavaniel was gone.

Gondor- Minas Tirith. It had been a long while since a King had sat seated on the ancient throne. She had entered the city with her newfound companions in silence. Her heart was beating fast- Soon Ruscien's death would be made public. Her betrothal to him was voided and useless and she felt a deep sinking in her chest. What was to become of the political peace between her family and King Thranduil's? The trade deals with Esgaroth and the gold mines in the mountains?
Her family had laboured for years to gain the dwarves trust, Thranduil had always wanted access to it and her marriage to Ruscien had seemed like a perfect solution. The elf had made his interest in her known during a diplomatic visit to the lake town under the mountain. She had smiled coyly and told him he would have to work harder. And he had, gently wooing her for years until she cracked and they became engaged.
All the Mirkwood king's careful planning, his support for their union had gone to dust. Rhavaniel was glad it was Legolas who would hear the news first and not his father, who was well known for his temper. She had known the prince for years and had spent a time travelling with him after Locien's passing- He had been interested in visiting the ruins of Angmar and Dol Guldur whilst they had been free of orcs. But that had been so many years ago.

She had watched the prince take his daughter to be healed, a part of her wanting to tell him then and there, another part quivering in fear of the repercussions of not having done more to save her. Rhavaniel had hung back with Naerwen and dismounted in the shadows of the tower, giving the reins of her horse to a stableboy in her usual half-haughty manner.

"Do not fear him," she said, the words tasting bitter in her mouth "We have nought to answer to."
She didn't believe what she was saying though, and was feeling grateful that the young boy would have recognized her and alerted her companions from the south of Mirkwood that their leader had returned. 'Alone', Rhavaniel thought 'returned to Minas Tirith alone.'.
She watched Naerwen leave without a word and knew that the other elf was feeling the same gut-wrenching guilt. With a heart-felt sigh she made her own way to the Houses of Healing. The cut to her side would need some attention before she could present herself to her kin.

The healer worked fast and quietly, and Rhavaniel was grateful for it. Once the wound had been closed and bandaged up she stayed seated in the room and looked out to the windows towards Osgiliath. The door had been left open and a pleasant breeze sweept through the room, calming her nerves somewhat. She had washed and changed, but she did not truly feel much better. Her elf ears pricked as she heard footsteps coming down the corridor and she rose immediately. There was no use hiding. Surprised she paused as she heard a knock on the door next to hers and stepped out to see Naerwen looking worried. She trusted Naerwen, there was something kind about her and somethingthat made her seem like a good person. And yet she too had witnessed her not able to help the prince's daughter.
"Aaye," she said with a forced smile.

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

With no reply at Nostariel's door she turned to leave when she heard Rhavaniel's voice. Naerwen's face brightened with a smile. She waalked to Rhavaniel thankful of the delay of seeing Nostariel in an ill state and thankful of the delay of telling King Aragorn about her findings and concerns.

"My friend!" she said. "How are you feeling?" Naerwen eyed Rhavaniel curiously. "Are you injured...too?" Her brow furrowed.

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(Rhavaniel: Oooooh! Two elves betrothed to the same man, this is sounding good! A nice twist in the tale! )

Nostariel barely heard the knocking at her door, but was too weak to even call out even if she had wanted to. She knew her father had left to find the King and she was glad that he wasn't there. Sooner or later she would have to tell him about her betrothed's death and treachery, but she had not the energy nor the inclination to do so yet. The grey fog wrapped her in a numbing embrace and she went under again.

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( May I add a tiny 'mwaha'? I guess I always saw Thranduil as a sort of bad elf ever since I read The Hobbit )

Rhavaniel touched her side "'tis but a scratch," she said lightly "I've had far worse."
Far worse indeed, she added silently, dark horrifying memories creeping up from where they were safely locked away. The elf regarded the door and then her new found friend "I take it you are here for Nostariel?"

-The Duke's Room, The White Tower-

Morfindien sat perched on the window-sill and was giving the young page in front of him a very stern look indeed. Like his sister, he too had inherited their father's midnight black hair and fiery temper. He had also spent long years as a Hunter, but at their father's passing he had inherited a great deal of land and gold and had decided to take up the less dangerous task of working as an advisor to Thranduil. He had never found a mate and had always regarded love as a problem that clouded rationality. Perhaps his mind was too keen, but he had never managed to find an elf who had suited his tastes. It came as a great shock to him when his younger sister declared her wish to wed again, even more so when she had explained who her new husband to be was.
Ruscien was a dashing young elf whom many maids had their eyes, but by being to closely affiliated with the king he was deeply involved in the court politics and should, in Morfindien's eyes have chosen another as his companion. As a business-man the duke had not complained, but had immediately taken up measures to calm the frosty climate between his men and the King's. He had known, that with war brewing in the south the elves would need to stand united if anybody was to survive- And survival meant profit.

"You say Rhavaniel has returned alone?" he asked slowly.
The page, who could not hold the elf's glare looked at his feet "No, my lord. With the Lady Nostariel, Prince Legolas' daughter. And another of your people."
"And you say Nostariel is sick?" Morfindien stood and poured himself a goblet of strong elven wine.
"Wounded, my lord, badly."
"Then I had better offer Legolas my condolences- I wouldn't want to cause offense to his royal highness," the tone of his voice suggested his didn't think much of the title "And then to luncheon with King Aragorn. How perfectly charming."
"My lord?" The page glanced up.
"Take me to the prince, quick now, I do not think I could bear you standing so stiffly for much longer, boy." the duke smiled toothily.

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

Nostariel lay there for a time, fighting the fog in her brain that told her to just stay and die. Just when she thought the greyness would win, she felt a touch on her shoulder and a gentle voice saying, "Be at peace." The mist left and she fell into a deep sleep.

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

As Rhavaniel and Naerwen cracked the door open, unable to withstand their curiosity any more, the former started. Leant over Nostariel and stroking the hair out of her face was the tall dark figure of Morfindien. The duke stood up slowly and turned around with a surprised look on his face.
"Sister," he said raising an eyebrow the formality in his voice unmistakable.
"Brother,"Rhavaniel replied, used to his cool demeanor. "What are you- How is she?"
"She will live. There is no place for her in Mandos' Halls as of yet- Her father will be most pleased," he took a step away from the bed and arranged his sharp features to give Naerwen a soul-freezing stare: "Who is this?"

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

Linnadhiel sat next to Nostariel's bed as she was healed. She never took her eyes away from her face. It was pinched up and afraid. She reached over and grabbed Nostariel's hand as they stitched up the blade wound. "How are you, Nostariel?" she smiled through teary eyes.
A dark haired elf whispered something to her, and her face relaxed. A soft snore came from her mouth. Linnadhiel smiled, looking up at him in thanks. She stayed at her side.

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

ot: Do you guys mind if i join?

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( Go ahead, make a profile and jump in! )

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

(Aww! How cute, Eru! )

Legolas returned with King Aragorn in tow just in time to bump into the group huddled around his daughter's bed. Looking at Linnadhiel, he asked, "How is she?"
Nostariel's eyes twitched before they slowly opened; this time they were clear and devoid of pain.
"Ada!" A small smile graced her face as she looked up.
"Well, Legolas, it looks as if I am not needed here after all." Aragorn slapped his friend on the back and then grinned down at the girl who had been like a niece to him.
"How are you feeling?"
"Better now that I am in a real bed again." The statement sent everyone in the chamber roaring with laughter.

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Name: Evelyn
Age: 2360 (appears to be in her early 20's)
Race:Elf
Look:
Weapons: bow and arrows, long slim sword of evlish make, two small daggers
Family: Evelyn is the ambassador and friend of Lady Galadrial and Lothlorian. Haldir is her brother. (if that is okl
Companions: none presently. She was one of the few elves who stayed behind in middle earth during the war of the ring. She has come now to offer her assistance, due to the ties of Aragorn and Arwen (and others) had to Lady Galadrial

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(Perfect! )

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