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

[Serenoli]

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[Rían]

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[Earniel]

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[Gordis]

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[Valandil]

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

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

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

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

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

Valandil looked at Oreturion, curious to hear more.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[Telcontar_Dunedain]

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

[Rían]

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[Rían]

RÃ*an had had a long, tiring, and very emotional day, and now to hear her brother talk like she was just some sort of prize to be handed out, without any concern at all for how she felt in the matter, pushed her over the edge.

"I am NOT a prize to be handed out!" she yelled, stomping her foot in anger. "I will NOT be treated like a little girl, with no mind of my own! And I WILL reach for the wind, if I think what I desire might be found there!"

Alagos lost his temper with his unpredictable sister. Here he was, trying to secure her happiness, and she was fighting him! "You don't know what you want, RÃ*an, that's the trouble with you!" he said angrily. "I'm just trying to help you!" But his anger died out and he regretted his hasty words as he saw the tears spring into her eyes.

RÃ*an looked around wildly - she felt like an animal cornered by hunting beasts, and wanted desperately to escape. The men weren't looking at her now - Tyaron had grabbed Alagos' shoulder and swung him around, angrily admonishing Alagos for overstepping his bounds. The tree they were under didn't have any low-hanging branches, but she spotted one fairly close by, and ran for it. Jumping up to catch the lowest branch, she quickly pulled herself up and rapidly climbed a little higher, until she had to stop and cling to the trunk because of the tears that were blinding her eyes. She shouted down through the branches to her brother, "You tell me that I'm reaching for the wind, but I don't see you married, either! Why aren't you married, brother?"

Alagos, chastened by Tyaron's talk and by his own good heart, walked slowly towards the tree with his hands reaching up towards his sister. Tyaron walked cautiously behind, alert for any problems. "I'm unmarried, RÃ*an, but not by my own choice," he said. "I have wished to marry several times since the fall of our city, but as soon as my parentage is known, they turned me down. Not all are like Tyaron and our parents, who know that the heart is more important than the outward things."

RÃ*an's anger at her brother melted away as he approached her with outstretched arms and repentant face, and her tears came welling up again. "Oh, Alagos, I'm so sorry," she said with compassion. Tyaron, afraid of what he thought might happen next, called out, "RÃ*an, be careful!" and ran as fast as he could towards the tree, but it was too late: RÃ*an, starting to climb down, missed her footing in the dark and tear-blurred tree, and fell.

[Serenoli]

Sitting under a tree he was aware of the words that came floating down the wind:
"Go to the North Gate. There are stables on the left. Put your horse there. Then, go to the East Gate, there is an entrance to the Palace garden. Circle the Palace and wait there near the fountain. I shall call you later, when I am alone."

He got up to do as he was told. The other Nazgul would probably not be so obedient as he was... not now that the downfall of Sauron had set them, to an extent, free, to da as they pleased. For him, more than for any of the others, the downfall of Sauron had been but as a death-knoll, for with Sauron's fall, his own purpose in life had vanished.

Once, long ago, when he had been the fair and beloved prince in a loved kingdom... then his purpose had been the good of his country. No one had striven as much as him. In every battle, he was at the forefront, weilding what weapon he had... be it sword, spear or axe with equal deadly skill. In every period of peace he was the most diligent in the people's welfare. Add to that the fact, that he was tall, manly in manner and appearance, and very fair to look upon... and it is easy to understand why he was the darling of the nation. In fact, it was a grief to most that he was the younger son, and thus not in line for the throne… his elder brother, though a noble man, had none of his flair or popularity.

And then had come news of the treachery of Sauron to the Elves of Eregion, and they were allies who rushed to the help of these Elves, in the ensuing battle with the Enemy. That battle was lost… but the war with Sauron continued long afterwards. Things were looking bleak when on a chance meeting, a fortune-teller gave him a good-luck charm, a small ring, made of a black shiny metal, encrusted with deep blue and green jems whose names he knew not… and from then on, luck did indeed fall his way. He became a mighty warrior, legendary even, known and feared by all who encountered him.

But the ring worked on him all the same, and soon he had become as evil as he had formerly been good. Deluded in his mind, he convinced himself, that his father and brother were traitors, and that they coveted his ring. He murdered them both in their sleeps, and made himself king.

His reign was short and bloody. He became unrecognisable, and many who would formerly have given their lives for him, hated him from their blood now. But he was all-powerful, and maintained his rule with a cruel hand, and then one day, he was gone. He had left in the night, alone, taking only the barest minimum.

He had felt the call. He travelled all the way to Mordor, and in his mind, all pretence was gone. He saw clearly how Sauron had tricked him… but he resisted no more. From the day, he kneeled before Sauron, and pledged himself, his purpose in life became to serve Sauron. His very existence was built around his master.

And even now, when Sauron and his Ring, were both lost to him, he wished ardently for the old state of things to return. He was wasted as a free man. Practically the only thing he enjoyed was battling, so he often hired himself out as a mercenary, only to kill as many as he could on both sides. He wandered Middle Earth, looking for someone to battle with, and sometimes to visit old strongholds. He lived in the past, and wished for it back. That is why, when he felt the call, he knew not who made it, but it reminded him so irresistably of the last time he had felt such a calll… and he came at once to Tharbad. And so he still obeyed Ilmenzor to the letter, even though he was no longer under him, as he would have in the past. Of all the Nazgul, he would be most likely, if he found the One Ring, to think of giving it back to Sauron.

And so Tolvadok did as he was bid. Untying his horse, he mounted it, and made off, swift as the wind. Depositing his horse, in the stables, he went out the Gate, and then went left as the Chacellor had directed him. The streets were well-nigh deserted at that hour and he passed unnoticed. And soon, he was before the East Gate, and lo! The Palace loomed in front and this time he had no need to search for a Gate, it also loomed.

And he went, circled the building, as desired, and ended up where he was told to, right beside the fountain in the inner garden. That is, not exactly, right beside… like many wraiths, he feared water, and the sight of the water gently splashing was not very pleasant, so he stood some way from it and waited. Water and Elves all over! Really, the Chancellor had no idea how to make a homely Nazgul home!

[Udukhaturz]

“A trap, you say?� Udu’s eyes narrowed as he looked as Khamûl. The Easterling’s mind was impenetrable, well-shielded. “As for learning wisdom, I, too, have spent long years in the East and am well acquainted with treachery. I trust no one, not you, not even the lovely Aiwendis.�

The blue opal on Udu’s hand had lost its light, but still Khamûl had not taken the sword from his hand. “I have no doubts that you would best me in combat by one means or another,� his cold eyes grew harder. “I will not fight you simply because I do not wish any disputations between us to attract attention in this city,� he said coldly as he sheathed his sword, never taking his eyes from Khamul’s face.

“Now that I have learned both wisdom and manners,� he hissed sarcastically as he folded his arms across his chest, “I cannot say that I like either your lessons in wisdom or in manners. They remind me too much of the type I learned all too well at the hands of our fallen Master.

“As for your company, Khamûl,� he said disdainfully, “I do not enjoy it, and I do not consider this,� he gestured with his hand at the room, “a party. I would much rather be elsewhere. I found the maidens who danced at the reception of some interest, and I would much prefer to be in their company than yours! Now do you object to my getting a drink of wine?� He surveyed Khamûl arrogantly. "Perhaps then we could all talk peacefully."

[CrazySquirrel]

"Riight", laughed Khamul, "pour yourself some wine, Udu. And don’t forget to pour some for Buz. Make yourself comfortable, and you will have your third lesson today. And that is: "never forgive anyone"! You both will surely enjoy watching how I deal with our darling Little Lil…"

With that, Khamul picked Lilly, who lay squirming on the floor, and threw her on the bed. A thin horse whip appeared in Khamul’s left hand. In his right, he still held his long, slightly curved oriental sword.

"Why me?" shrieked terrified Lilly. I did nothing at all! Ask them - she pointed at Udu and Buz.

Khamul laughed again, an evil cold sound.

"Look at your robe, Lilly. I believe, you spent all the evening studying, that’s why you have candle wax all over you. Yes, you must have been writing your three scroll paper in Commerce! That explains ink-stains on your ample bosom. And on your face, Buzukkumarz", he hissed, turning with a lightning speed and pointing his sword at Five’s face.

[Udukhaturz]

“Yes, a drink,� Udu said as he walked to the table, reaching down and picking up his half-filled bottle of wine. “Perhaps you would care for some too!� he said as he hurled the wine bottle towards the back of Khamul’s head. The distraction took Khamûl’s attention from Buzukkumarz for an instant. Then Udu rushed upon the Black Easterling, dragging him down to the floor with him. As they fell, Udu pulled a dagger from the sheath at his belt.

“Filthy Tark!� hissed Khamûl, his eyes blazing red, as Udu held the knife to his throat. Then Udu slapped him backhanded across the face twice with his other hand.

“Another thing you should learn, my friend, on the road to wisdom is never leave your back unguarded. Flee Lilly! I cannot hold him for long!�

[Valandil]

As the carriage wheeled its way along, Valandil sat staring out the window, deep in thought. He was recalling the contact he had made with his father's sword that evening, and how it had even tried to warn him - that enemies were about and even not to drink from the cup! How foolish he had been to go through with it, he thought. Still... nothing to do of it now, and no harm seemed to have come from it anyway.

He resisted the desire to touch the pommel of his sword and try to renew contact. Oreturion would surely know if communication of some sort was going on, and Valandil wished to find out whatever he could first by himself, before revealing this to Oreturion. He wasn't even sure if he should tell Estelmo about it. Still though, Estelmo had known his father much better than Oreturion - for Oreturino had only met Isildur when he had fled north to Arnor.

"You really liked her, didn't you?" asked Estelmo, interrupting his thoughts.

"Wh-who? Earniel? Aiwendis?? ... Rian???" asked Valandil, caught a little off-guard.

"Oh," said the elder, "I was referring to the Chancellor's daughter, although you danced with some other fine young ladies this evening - but missed a few as well, I noticed. Still... young men like to fancy Elven ladies and all that, but that Aiwendis now... SHE is a fine young lady of full Numenorean heritage... and more fitted to be the wife of a Man.... the Queen, perhaps, of a King."

Valandil's thought's raced, and he found that he still knew no more of his heart than he had weeks before, when he had first come to this place - even though he had met the enchanted Lady of Nin-in-Eilph. Fortunately for him though, the carriage came to a stop and the door was opened. They had arrived back home and the hour was late. It was time to retire for the evening.

And no reply need be given to Estelmo's questioning... this time.

[Gordis]

Surrounded by servants bearing lanterns, the Chancellor and Aiwendis walked through the garden towards the Palace. Aiwendis’s mind was in deep turmoil. She looked at her hand, now resting on Ilmenzor’s forearm. It still felt warm from the contact with the King’s, the palm still tingling from his kiss.

"Have I ever been troubled so deeply by a mortal? Perhaps, long ago, when I was young. I can’t remember anymore…"

But troubled she was. She stole a glance at the Morgul-Lord, afraid that he would catch her guarded thoughts. But he was paying her no heed, lost in his own plans and schemes. She felt relief, when with a nod and a cold "Goodnight, my daughter" he dismissed her. Aiwendis hurried into her chambers, where the troubling moonlight was shut out by heavy curtains, and fell face-down on her bed.

A dark figure hidden in deep shadows by the fountain moved slightly when the Chancellor’s procession walked past it. But the garden was now swarming with activity: servants cleaning the table, maids hurrying in all directions, somewhat unsteadily moving professors returning to their appartments. The figure hesitated, then melted again in the shadows of the trees by the wall.

What is happening to me? thought Aiwendis. "Why have I suddenly found the smell of human blood so attractive? No, I can’t be in love with a mortal, it is just crazy. Do I want to become a queen so badly?

An ancient quarrel with Lilly flashed through her mind. "You never loved anybody!" cried the angry Readhead, "all you EVER wanted is to become a Queen!"…No, it was not true, Lilly never understood me, because it is exactly the way Lilly HERSELF always thought…

…Lilly!... Aiwendis sat bolt upright, remembering the plight of those in Orrodel. Lilly, Buz and Udu. In her silliness, she sent Udukhaturz into the trap herself. How could she now forget? She was a selfish, besotted fool! Now perhaps they have already killed each other!

All thoughts of Valandil left her instantly. Silent and invisible Aiwendis ran on her light feet towards the Chancellor’s chambers. On and on she ran through endless dimly lit corridors, some empty, some swarming with servants. They seemed like pale shadows, smelling of human blood and sweat, and in some passages Aiwendis had to flatten herself against a wall and wait, not to bump into someone.

"Look, Ul", she heard one calling."Close that blasted window in the corridor, there is an awful draught here. Look like that door swings open all by itself!"

[Gordis]

Aiwendis never before risked to go invisible through a crowd, unless in dire need. Today the need was desperate. At least the passage, leading to the Chancellor’s chambers, was empty. Flinging the last door open, she rushed into Ilmenzor’s study.

The Morgul Lord sat at the table, a forgotten book open before him.

"My Lord, we have to go to Orrodel, now!" cried Aiwendis, forgetting all caution. "Khamul, is there, I am sure! He will torture them again!"

The Chancellor’s face was stern. "Pray tell me, how does it concern me? Khamul was slighted, he has the right to repay the debt. I believe he has done so already"

"But I sent Udu there!" They must be fighting between themselves!"

"They are always fighting between themselves, unless they are drinking or whoring. That pretty much sums up all their possible activities" laughed the Morgul Lord.

Aiwendis’s eyes filled with tears. She went around the table and fell to her knees at the Captain’s feet. "My Lord, I beg you…"

The Chancellor chuckled softly, studying Aiwendis’s face and figure. "You are so attractive, when upset, my darling. I will do what you ask, though I admit I had other plans for the night..." He traced the outline of Aiwendis's cheek with his fingers.

Aiwendis blushed, discerning an impish gleam in his eyes. But she would not be deterred now. "I am most grateful, my Lord", she whispered. Taking the Chancellor's cloak from the sofa, she held it for him to don. But the Morgul Lord shook his head. "We shall go invisible".

Quietly they slipped into the garden. In the Shadow World, the fog was moving in white waves made radiant by moonlight. It was a fairy-night, when all the little spirits of air, water and earth ventured out to dance under the waning moon. Aiwendis spotted a family of tiny winged fairies on the lawn near the fountain with an old kobold playing a flute on the rim.

Old Akoradur, a ghostly Numenorean soldier, kept his watch on the wall, his severed head held firmly under his arm. The ancient fortress had many ghosts, some held in Middle Earth by a curse, some by desire for vengeance. Aiwendis knew all of them by now, as the ghosts were eager to chat with someone who was able to hear them. Akoradur was older than Aiwendis, killed by his own brother in the early years of Tharbad, when the men of Elenna were shipping wood down the Gwathlo to build more ships for King Tar-Aldarion. The old fool was still looking for his brother, to cut his throat in turn, though the brother was long dead and gone to Mandos and beyond…

Now, though, Akoradur shuffled quickly out of sight, frightened by the bright gleam of the crown on the Morgul Lord’s head, and the fell light in his eyes. All the fairies dispersed as well, in awe of ringwraiths, the Lords of the Spirit World.

The Pale King paused by the fountain and called "Lord Tolvadok, come with us!"

[Serenoli]

Tolvadok stood in the shadowy garden of Aiwendis, alone, and it seemed forgotten. Soon, however, he was forced to become invisible, as the garden became a thoroughfare for servants cleaning up, and for professors to come home in pairs, and quiet little groups, some very obviously drunk. He did not wish to be seen, and when anyone passed too close, he shuddered.

Then among the crowd milling about, he saw them walking the Chancellor, and the lovely Aiwendis on his arm. He stepped forward: surely the Chancellor had come for him?

But, no, he did not even look at him, and walked past. No doubt he did not wish Tolvadok to be seen among all these people.

He waited some more, and slowly the garden cleared. But while the live people became less, increasingly more and more ghosts appeared. This garden was clearly haunted, and after the nasty shocks he had recieved from seeing the elves, he felt slightly more at home with folk more like to him. He did not talk much to them, though. His mind was preoccupied with thoughts... why was he here? Had it been the Chancellor who had called him? If so, why? Did it have something to do with the King, who, apparently was here, partying with the Lord of the Ringwraiths? If it had been he, he would have killed the son of the tark Isildur, but the Chancellor chose to party!! He wondered vaguely if Lord Ilmenzor was turning good... the thought made him laugh.

And finally, when even fairies had ventured into the deserted garden, the two Nazgul appeared, both invisible, and Ilmenzor ordered him, "Lord Tolvadok, come with us!"

He came out of the shadows, bowed low to the Chancellor, and then to Aiwendis, taking her hand to bestow a light kiss on it. She was still staring at him in amazement, clearly, Ilmenzor had not told her of his arrival.

"How do you do, Aiwendis? You look lovelier than ever before. You don't look too glad to see me, though...", he said smiling, still holding her hand.

[CrazySquirrel]

Lilly felt miserable and did not want any lessons. She didn't want to be tortured either, but she knew it would come to that, once the Easterling was done taunting her. Lilly moaned pitifully. It seemed that her brilliant idea with the wax-figure spell, was not so brilliant after all.

Suddenly a bottle came flying at Khamul’s head, knocking him down. Udu and Buz jumped at the Easterling from both sides, like two blood-thirsty hounds. Lilly lifted her head, watching three men fighting on the floor. Udu soon had the upper hand, it seemed, as his dagger was at Khamul’s throat.

"Flee Lilly! I cannot hold him for long!" ordered Udu in his usual matter-of fact voice.

Lilly tried to get up, but her hands and legs were still frozen by Khamul’s spell. She was as good as bound. Lilly started to panic. Her head felt like an overweight troll had been merrily jumping on it for hours.

Meantime, Buz stepped on Khamul’s sword hand, pinning it to the floor. The Second’s eyes were burning bright red, he muttered something under his breath, either a spell, or a curse in his native tongue. Lilly knew, that indeed Buz and Udu would not be able to hold him for long.

"Kill the bastard, Udu!" cried Buz shrilly, "Kill him before he prepares his spell!"

[Udukhaturz]

His knife at Khamûl’s throat, Udu had pinned the Black Easterling down on the floor and stared down into his glaring eyes. Udukhatûrz’ eyes were flaming with an intensity equal to that of Khamûl’s. He could sense the total abject fear in Lilly, who lay upon the bed, immobilized. Buzukkumarz had stepped on Khamûl’s sword hard, holding it imprisoned.

Khamûl’s eyes glowed with hatred. “Insolent Tark!� he snarled as he began muttering a spell.

Udu heard Buz shrieking, “Kill the bastard, Udu!�

Khamûl struggled against Udu, his Ring glowing. Udu sensed the presence of metal hidden somewhere beneath his clothing. The Easterling had more than one dagger concealed on his person! Another ripple of hatred flared from Khamûl’s eyes. Udu felt the old killing passion ripple through his mind and soul.

With a look of malicious hatred, Udukhatûrz firmly gripped the knife handle in his right hand. Then he slashed the dagger down, ripping over the side of Khamûl’s neck. Khamûl hissed in pain and cried out, cursing. A blinding flash from Khamûl’s Ring hurled Udu across the floor, and he crashed into the side of a table and chair, splintering the table as he fell across it.

[Rían]

Tyaron was just a split second too late. RÃ*an hit the ground and lay there without moving, her lovely hair strewn across her motionless body. He fell to his knees and bent over her, calling her by her names, then pulled her into his lap, cradling her head to his chest. Alagos came running up, and falling to his knees, bent over her anxiously, trying to smooth the hair back from her face so he could look into her eyes. After a few moments that seemed like hours, they heard her trying to say something in a faint voice, and they strained their ears to listen.

"Why must I always fall? Why must I always fall?" she said over and over in despair. Tyaron stopped the words that were on the lips of the quick-speaking Alagos with a look that said, "Let me handle this," and bent over her protectively. "Why must I always fall?" she said plaintively again, and he answered her, "So I can pick you up, sweetheart," and held her even closer. Alagos, seeing that his sister was going to be fine (at least physically), moved quietly back to let her lover have a free hand.

But RÃ*an, as she gathered her wits about her (admittedly a quick task; those who loved RÃ*an didn't love her for an overabundance of brain), wasn't quite sure that she wanted to be picked up by Tyaron, and she started to struggle against him. The hand to his front pushed him petulantly away, but the arm behind his back clung tightly to him. Sometimes our bodies speak more truly what is in our hearts than our words do, and RÃ*an was indeed in two minds about this swordsman from Gondolin.

"I don't want you to pick me up," she said plaintively, "Go away!" And she settled in more comfortably against his chest.

Tyaron, praying he was reading the conflicting signals right, started singing.

He sang the songs that he sang to Alagos during those long, weary days of his friend's illness. He made his voice, which was strong and deep, as soft as the breezes that blow in the treetops that RÃ*an loved so well. He let his voice caress her, because she wouldn't let his hands caress her. He sang of flowing water, and sparkling fountains, and the sound of the sea. He sang of the flowers that bloom in the secret places in the meadows, and of the birds that nest in the hidden places of the trees. He sang of the raindrops hanging like jewels off of the tree branches, and the snowflakes that fell like presents from the sky. And as he sang, her hand slowly stopped pushing him away.

[Rían]

Tyaron finished singing and was still. After a moment, there came a soft voice from the little tyrant nestled safe and warm in his arms - "Tyaron, don't stop singing! Please sing some more," and he smiled.

"I have sung of things that we have seen; now I will sing of things that we have not seen, but are nonetheless true," and he started singing again. He sang of the pearl-strewn beaches of Alqualondë, and of the light of the two trees in Valinor. He sang of the Eldar awakening at Cuiviénen, and of their wonder at beholding the stars. And he sang of the loveliest song of all - the Ainulindalë, the music of the Ainur by which Ilúvatar made the world through the power He granted to them, and how Morgoth had tried to ruin the song, but Ilúvatar, in his strength and power and beauty, overcame the evil and turned it into something even more beautiful. She sighed, and reaching up, took a lock of his hair in her hand and started absentmindedly running it through her fingers and across her cheek.

Tyaron had no idea that a person's insides could feel the way that his did at that moment.

The last notes of the song drifted away on the wind, and again he stopped singing. He waited quietly to see what she would do next.

"Please keep singing, please," came the request again, as she played with his hair.

Tyaron decided that it was time for a different type of song.

"Now I will sing to you from a long and beautiful song of the Eldar," he said, and a curious smile spread across his face...