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

[Serenoli]

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

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

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

[Rían]

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

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

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

[Valandil]

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[Grey_Wolf]

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

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

[Gordis]

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[Earniel]

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[Serenoli]

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[Rían]

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

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

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

[Rían]

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

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

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

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

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

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

[Grey_Wolf]

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

[Butterbeer]

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

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

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

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

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

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


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

[Rían]

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[Rían]

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

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

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

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

[Udukhaturz]

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

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

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

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

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

[Gordis]

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

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

Lilly wailed in frustration, dropping her blade as well.

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

[Lotesse]

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

[Butterbeer]

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

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

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

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

[Grey_Wolf]

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

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

[CrazySquirrel]

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

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

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

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

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

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

[Rían]

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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