Lay of Athrabeth

by Alassea Telrunya

"Do candles pity moths?" (flashbacks of Aegnor and Andreth's memories)

Notes: I have been a Tolkien reader for some time and of all the pairings in Tolkien, the story of Aegnor and Andreth touched me more so I thought I would write about these two. There are so few stories of these two preciouses so I couldn't really stay in my seat and wait. Before you read my little one-shot, I REQUIRE you check out the Athrabeth first. Seriously.

Normal Font= Present Time

Slant Font= The Past

Disclaimer: I do not own J.R.R Tolkien's masterpieces

The sound of metal creaking, iron doors slamming and anxious shouts and voices filled the vast elven warfare room. The smell of burnt steel and polished armor lingered in the air. Swords, bows, arrows, axes, spears and many other instruments used to take life took up most of the space and attention of its holder. The room was mostly occupied by male elves whom were eagerly dressed for battle. Their long braids flickered back and forth as they rushed from one place to the next. When the night approached, a heavy door opened to reveal an ellon with bright, yellow hair and mild blue eyes. His royally pampered clothes rustled as he adjusted the hilt of his silver sword and scanned around the tense room with keen elven eyes. His fair face deepened into a little frown as he spotted a dark silhouette in a corner and he strolled towards the shadow.

Sharpening his intricate and gleaming blade, the sitting silhouette turned his golden head to reveal another ellon that bared a slight resemblance to the one that approached him. Sharp grey eyes looked up at the towering man. The sitting ellon gave no hint of surprise at his new visitor and simply went back to running a stone against his knife back and forth. The yellow- haired elf stood there for a moment and listened to the harsh sound of the blade grinding against the hard piece of solid repetitively.

A few minutes passed and he decided the silence was getting rather aggravating.

"Aegnor, how are you faring?" Grey eyes looked back again to cyan blue and the sound of the blade stopped.

"I am quite well, I thank you for asking," was the even reply.

Finrod looked at the wrinkled and worn clothes Aegnor wore and his face twisted in much concern as he studied the dark circles underneath his younger brother's large eyes. His already high cheekbones accentuated more during these past weeks and it was obvious that his brother had not been eating properly. Aegnor, the sharp flame whose visage used to shine with so much joy and poised with purity was now gone. The current figure before him was, but a flickering flame that has lost its brilliant glow. His weary back was now upright and his aura held intensity and melancholic wisdom.

Finrod decided to approach a different subject when his brother gave no sign of continuing the conversation.

"Angrod and his own squadron of soldiers have just began heading south in the direction of Anfauglith. We are to bring him more of our stallions tomorrow for usage."

Aegnor gave a silent acknowledgment but did not bother to fully turn his head. Finrod gave a sigh.

"Our half-cousin Maedhros messaged us to ready our regiment and report any shortage of weaponry and food supplies immediately. From what we can gather, this is the one battle we must absolutely not fail. The consequences are mighty and can easily link to other…"

Aegnor put down the little arrow that he was examining and turned to face his beloved older brother. His mouth quirked into a little half-smile.

That smile hardly reaches his eyes no more. With this war against Melkor, no one can have a peaceful night's rest. Finrod mused to himself.

"Certainly, you are not here to tell me about Angrod's well-fare and Maedhros' message, dear brother." Aegnor's forthrightness was not a question, but a curious statement.

"No, brother… You are indeed right; that is not the reason why I am here." Finrod answered. The two siblings sat together in a peaceful silence. Not a word was spoken and yet both seemed to know the other's thoughts.

"How is she?" Aegnor asked after a moment. Finrod let out a breath he didn't realize he was holding.

"Andreth was well the last time I saw her. She is still audacious and saucy as ever!" Aegnor gave a soft chuckle.

"Then she is surely my Andreth." His eyes twinkled gently at the fond memory of the blazing and independent woman that once had and still enraptures his heart.

The slight, agonizing delight on Aegnor's face wrenched Finrod's heart and he decided to use this time to pry out more of the story between his little brother and the mortal girl. From what his younger peers told him, he gathered that the two took an unwise interest in each other, frolicked around a bit until his brother had settled to stepping out before they got any further from doomed realization. The poor girl was left in bewilderment and bitter rejection. But surely there was more to it wasn't there?

"Perhaps, telling me about it can lessen any distraught you have, brother." Finrod said quietly as he placed a hand on his brother's clothed shoulder. Aegnor looked out the window and saw a bright moon creeping out a satin grey cloud.

"I first met her when Angrod and I took the titles as lords of Dorthonion. She was living with her aunt and mentor, Adanel, in the small settlement of Ladros. The first time I gazed upon her slight form, I was amused by the blazing spirit that she radiated around her."

---

Dipping the wooden brush in the bucket of murky water, Andreth began scrubbing the velvet, white fur of the new mare that was given to her. It was a warm, spring morning and seventeen year old Andreth was told she was allowed to hang around the stables of Dorthonion. As a child, she has read books about adventures of princesses, dragons, daring horses, evil witches and noble princes. The evil witch would curse the princess; lock her inside a high and dark tower guarded by a fire-breathing dragon. A handsome prince would come, slay the dragon and get all the glory and they all lived happily ever after. She had dreamt of the day she got to have her own adventure and romance just like the fairytales she read about. To have those kinds of journeys, you would need a horse to take you around. At the ripe age of seventeen, Andreth shrieked in joy when she learned she was going to have her very own steed.

Her aunt, Adanel, had never approved of her niece's childish fantasies of heroes and romance. She found them tedious and impractical. Her brow would furrow irately whenever Andreth mentioned them during her lore lessons.

"Oh, will we be damned if the firstborn ever find out that little naïve mind of yours came from the house of Bëor!" Aunt Adanel always said in exasperation and waved her two hands in the air.

The firstborn, Andreth had read about. Her studies required her to learn about the race of people that are to rule the lands Andreth's kin inhabited in. The legends of the elves or rather what they call themselves, 'Eldalië,' told her of their great and heroic deeds as well as their fell ones that often changed the course of history. The first elves that arrived upon Arda had passed through the dangerous and terribleHelcaraxë and many lives were lost. Of those elves included the seven sons of Fëanor, Maedhros, Maglor, Celegorm, Caranthir, Curufin, Amrod and Amras, the four children of Fingolfin, Fingon, Turgon, Aredhel and Argon, the four children of Finarfin, Finrod, Angrod, Aegnor and Galadriel. Apparently, these groups of Eldar were exiles from Valinor. The legends told Andreth that they defied Eru Ilúvatar and went about their way as they wished and so were banished from their true home. The lands of Middle Earth were distributed and the sons of Fëanor, Fingolfin and Finarfin had land of their own to rule over.

She was not sure if she liked the elves or not from what little she heard. The fact that Andreth and her family were about to be ruled upon by these elves out of nowhere peeved her just a little. She was often told that the eldar or elves were considered wisest and fairest of all beings. Andreth found that hard to believe because her deceased mother was the fairest and smartest woman she had ever known aside from her aunt. Her father, Boromir, and her older brother, Bregor, were brave, strong and handsome. She doubted anyone, even the elves, can match up to them.

"Andreth!"

The sound of her name from a female voice made her jump out of her thoughts. She put the brush down and turned towards Beril, her younger sister by two years. The pretty adolescent girl with her long, wavy ginger hair, streamed behind her; her face was flushed and full of smiles as she approached Andreth.

"What is it?" Andreth asked. Beril grinned eagerly.

"They're coming! The elves that will govern Dorthonion are about to arrive." Her younger sister said all in one breathe. Andreth's brown eyes widened and she suddenly felt nervous.

Both sisters ran outside to see men, women and children scurrying around and making room around the gate for their visitors. The huge wooden doors were opened wide and from afar, Andreth could see a few figures running towards them. As the figures got closer, she could make out a few heads of golden hair, gleaming in the sunlight and stallions fairer and bigger than the ones they owned. The sounds of horses neighing and merry laughter filled the air as three golden elves in dark cloaks and about a dozen elven guards came running into the Edain village.

"Your majesty and my noble lord, Finrod! I bid you welcome to our humble village. Everything is prepared for you and your brothers as you have asked. The furniture is dusted, our food supplies are enough to feed 1,000 hungry bears and we have plenty of wine to pleasure ourselves with. We wish you and your kin a contented stay while you are here."

Andreth stood on her tippy toes as she tried to peer over the crowd and discern the voice of her father speaking to the elven princes.

"My gratitude to you and your people, lord Boromir. I hope we have not troubled your people's good graces by arriving with such sudden design." It was the leader of the fair group that spoke. His hair was the color of pure gold, his icy eyes a rich azure hue and an elaborate, silver circlet adorned his brow.

"No, no. It is our duty as your people. We hope only good tidings for the future. Please, the stable is this way."

Another elf came up to Boromir and offered his condolences. This one stood out the most of the elven lot for his golden hair had a reddish tone to it that made it appear not unlike fire. The long locks contrasted nicely with his fair skin and steel grey eyes. A silver circlet was also pinned upon his brow. His movements like his other brother, was quick but not inelegant.

"Please wait just a moment, my lords." Andreth barely heard her father spoke the words.

"Andreth!" The shout was so sudden, she gave a leap and quickly looked at her father's direction in silent questioning.

"Our princes need some refreshments after their long journey. Will you please bring in the glasses of ale for us?" The human lord of Ladros asked. Andreth quickly took the tray of ale-filled glasses from the low counter behind her and made her way towards them, mutely begging Manwë not let her trip. When she got close to the eldar, her stomach lurched with overwhelming nausea. They were truly beautiful and magnificent creatures and she never doubted the legends she read ever again. Still, they don't match up to her wonderful father, she insisted to herself.

When Andreth got to the one with reddish-golden hair, she could see his grey eyes had a tinge of playfulness as he eyed her. She let her eyes drift downward and found her shabby boots interesting. Being around these fair lords made her self-conscious of her soot-covered face and the men's work clothes she 'borrowed' from Bregor. The drink was taken from her.

"My deepest thanks, lady." The melodic voice of the elf was directed to her.

Andreth swiftly ran back to her post without a word and watched her father lead the elven lords deeper into the village and get them settled.

---

It was not often that Andreth is taciturn and when she is, then something is obviously troubling her. Usually, her moodiness ends quickly just like how it starts. However, recently, Andreth has been more quiet than normal and she often gets so lost in her own world, she does not notice her surroundings anymore. She is getting more and more distant with those around her and friends had stopped talking to her. At the age of twenty-one, Andreth was getting around to completing her studies with her aunt, Adanel, but with her continuing distractions and lack of concentration, Adanel was thinking of prolonging her years in the study hall. That is why Beril is getting worried. Really worried. She had caught her older sister accidentally breaking a few porcelain dishes when she was organizing them in the mahogany shelves. The scars and bruises increased everyday on Andreth's pale, freckled skin.

Despite all this, her older sister kept insisting that she help around the Bëor house and has something to keep her busy. Andreth never told Beril any of her personal businesses, but Andreth scrubbing the floor violently and enthusiastically doing the laundry daily was starting to disturb Beril.

On this particular day, Andreth and Beril were sitting in the tea room, sewing. The room was a nice and cozy area with a big, circular window behind the chairs the two sisters were sitting on. From the window, the sunlight streamed through brightening the soft, flower embroidery on the tapestries.

For the seventh time, Andreth pricked her ring finger with a needle and gave a frustrated sigh. She tossed the red table cloth she was stitching next to the table on her left. Beril looked up at Andreth. Her dark, brown eyes were glazed over and dark circles were beginning to show underneath.

"Andreth, what is going on with you?" Beril asked, stopping her sewing.

"What do you mean what's wrong? There is nothing wrong with me." Andreth coolly replied, rubbing her eyes.

"You have changed." Beril insisted, concerned. "You have been working like a slave these past months. Aunt Adanel is fretful for you. You are beginning to break things and father's favorite vase. As if you weren't already careless and clumsy before. I can see the little blisters on your fingers reddening. Not to mention, you are beginning to show attitude."

Andreth said nothing and continued to look out the window at nothing in particular. Beril sighed. She was not sure if this was the case, but she had to ask.

"Is it our lord, Aegnor?"

Andreth looked back at her sister, alarmed. "What?" She blurted out. Her younger sister's irritated frown transformed into something that resembled an impish grin.

"Oh, I don't know. Could your recent behavior have something to do with that one golden-elven lord you seemed to be spending time with in the past years?"

Andreth turned to look back out the window.

"I don't know what you are implying, Beril. I don't let a man dictate how I behave." She answered. The ginger-haired lady laughed softly.

"Father would approve, you know. It is always good if we can 'form a strong bond with the firstborn for our lives now depend on them' he says."

Andreth kept staring at an evergreen tree indignantly.

"We don't have to let our lives depend on them. We are strong on our own and we don't need their help." The brown-haired woman snapped. "And whether I have father's approval or not, there is no point anymore. Nothing is going to happen."

The way her older sister spoke so sullenly, Beril wondered what really happened between the elf and her sister.

---

After the dinner celebration at the main hall of Bëor, Aegnor bid his brothers a good night and took off without telling anyone his destination. Earlier that day, he had come by a small, white citadel located deep inside the woods of Dorthonion and it stirred up his curiosity. Aegnor was an inquisitive person by nature and it hardly bothered him if people accused him of snooping around.

Inside the white building was a roomful of old and worn out weapons passed down by the Edain over the years. A few tattered spears peaked out dangerously from its equally dilapidated restrainers. Deeper inside, one could see many old paintings of famous battles, respected mortal figures such as Bëor himself and even prophecies that have not yet come to pass. Aegnor studied the painting techniques and elaborate details the artists added to each canvas; marveling the sumptuous skills that could possibly rival the skills of the Noldorin eldar.

Outside in the woods, Andreth had eaten her fill and thought she would take a little walk. It was nice night if one ignored the humidity and the moon shines over the land. She contemplated the chores she would have to perform on the morrow and all the fresh pigs she and her sister would have to prepare for dinner. Ever since the arrival of the princes, everyone was restless and they worked with extra effort hoping to impress and satisfy the elves all according to the orders of their Lord Boromir.

When Andreth arrived near the citadel she was told forbidden to strangers, its wide open door peaked her suspicion. She came near and peered inside for any sign of a living person and found a dark shadow standing in the far back. The soft rustle of clothes indicated it was a live individual. Andreth did not know who the person was and if she asked, someone might scold her for walking out in the night alone in the first place let alone near the white building. The notion of speaking to a stranger also terrified her. From the door, Andreth could see that the lone figure was extremely tall with a regal posture; probably male. She had a feeling that the person knew she was there as well, but gave no hint of saying anything or walking away.

With her heart beating rapidly in her chest, Andreth cleared her throat and began to address the shadowed person.

"Excuse me, this is forbidden territory you are in. Please show and name yourself stranger and make sure you leave here quickly or I will have to call the guards." She said with false confidence and tried to hold her chin up.

As Andreth backed out into the clearing, the mysterious stranger stepped out of the fortress to reveal golden-hair and a smiling face. It was none other than prince Aegnor of the Noldor and one of the leaders of her people to Andreth's dismay.

An amused laugh was her answer.

"And I don't believe I recall you telling me your name either. Pray, do enlighten me with that information, stranger."

A gasp caught in Andreth's throat as she quickly looked to the ground. Shame and embarrassment melted into her. She tried to catch the words from her mouth before she made an idiot of herself again.

"P-prince Aegnor! My deepest apologies, my lord. I didn't realize that it was you-that is to say…" She hoped lord Ulmo would bring a miracle wave and swallow her whole. But of course the Valar were not so merciful.

The young mortal lady in front of Aegnor looked like she was about to either pass out or run away. He had a feeling she was leaning towards the latter and he did not want that to happen now that he had a companion that could join him on his nightly walks. Andreth on the other hand was muttering apologies and was about to walk off and call it a night.

"You still have not told me your name, dear." Aegnor stated, trying to hold back a grin. He settled for trying to calm her down a little.

Andreth shot her head up from her internal rant and gaped at the prince in confusion.

"Andreth, my lord. Daughter of Boromir." She answered carefully if not suspiciously this time. Why would someone like him care for her name? Her little human self is of no significance to this great elf lord's life.

"Ah, so you are one of lord Boromir's daughters then."

"That is indeed, my lord."

Aegnor considered thoughtfully and rubbed his chin at the young girl's formality and rigid manners. No, that will not do.

Andreth was getting uncomfortable in his imposing presence.

"My lord, I will take my leave now if you will you excuse m-" The elf lord interrupted her before she could finish her sentence.

"Aegnor."

"What?" Andreth looked at him with confusion once again and he laughed.

"I believe I prefer you calling me by my birth name than that tedious title, Andreth."

She blushed slightly at the informal address, but kept her head held high.

"I would rather not, my lord. You are a prince of the Noldor. A lowly person such as me has no right!"

Aegnor clicked his tongue at the mortal's stubbornness, but was not about to let her leave anytime soon.

"Andreth, I am giving you the right to do so for I do not wish to only be your superior. Please, let go of the title."

Andreth still glared defiantly and Aegnor realized she was a stubborn one. No matter.

"Come, walk with me." He said and grabbed her hand albeit gently before she could protest.

"But, my lord! I mustn't!" She tried to wriggle her hand free, but he did not let go. Only a few minutes of walking when Andreth was finally on the verge of keeling over. She had no hope of winning against the elf. He could be forceful when he wanted to be and Andreth had thought about kicking him in the shin and taking off, but father would probably disown her for that.

Aegnor, however, was busying musing over his annoyed companion's name. Andreth. It was the sindarin word for patience and serenity. Why, it does not suit her at all! She is not unlike his own little sister, Artanis. He thought, jesting with himself.

"Aegnor." She said exasperatedly. He did a little triumphant grin and turned back innocently.

"Yes?"

Andreth narrowed her eyes at him and frowned.

"For someone who wants formalities dropped, you still give orders willingly." She huffed. Her elven companion laughed merrily and squeezed her hand a bit with his larger one. Andreth decided that he was the touchy-feeling sort of person. For some reason, she did not seem to mind.

"If giving orders meant bringing you out of your comforting shell and I, having a walking partner for the night, then I would happily complete the task." He replied a bit too joyfully for Andreth's liking.

"But why do you keep insisting I walk with you?" She asked and looked down at her feet shyly. Aegnor looked at her with mild puzzlement.

"Do you not find yourself enjoying my company?" He asked, skillfully dodging her question. She looked up sharply, but then remembered the he was the one being pushy towards her after all.

"Well, it's not that…" She was not sure how to answer, but Aegnor took it positively anyway.

"Wonderful! Then we shall do this every night." The Noldor prince heartily replied.

"E-every night?!" Andreth stuttered.

"But of course! During the day, I have political affairs with my brothers and my half-cousins. Things are quite busy and exhausting as of late you see. It would be best if you and your people did not wander too far from Dorthonion and our protection, my lady." His lips were set in a thin line and his eyes turned hard as he stared ahead. The abrupt change of mood from the joyous elf disturbed Andreth.

"Why? What's out there?" She asked him quietly. Aegnor glanced sharply at her. Surely she has heard gruesome stories of orcs and other vile creatures out there lingering in the dark places of Arda hasn't she?

"Well, for one, we have the spawns of Morgoth who are out there to kill and make everyone's lives miserable. It has gotten worse over the years and it does not help that my brash cousins from the house of uncle Fëanor are still trying to regain the Silmarils Morgoth has stolen."

"Morgoth is still alive?!" Andreth gasped softly. It had never occurred to Aegnor that this mortal girl could be so naïve. Apparently, she has been living a very sheltered life and her soul was still pure and innocent. After all the horrid history and bloodshed his long life had shown him, he would hate to suddenly break this image of purity and innocence standing next to him. Aegnor shook his head and gave Andreth one of his kindly smiles.

"No mind, Andreth. Come, it is getting rather late. I shall walk you home. Do you mind telling me where your house is?"

Andreth glared at the elf, clearly insulted. Did he think she was just a child that did not need to know about these things?! Her aunt Adanel had always answered her prodding questions.

"Please tell me more about his Morgoth! I have read a little about him and was it because of that evil Valar that you are now an exile?"

He did not answer and kept on walking. Andreth gave a huff and trotted behind. When they arrived back to the main Bëor hall, Andreth's older brother, Bregor, was there waiting for her.

"There you are little sister! Where were you?" He came running towards Aegnor and Andreth. His tousled brown hair framed his pleasant and round face. He came to an immediate halt when he recognized the prince and gave him a deep bow.

"My thanks for taking care of my sister, my lord. She is still young and has many years before she can stand on her own."

Andreth gawked at her brother, slack-jawed and made a mental note to kick him later for that remark. She was not a child anymore! The familiar laughter of Aegnor came rumbling from behind her.

"It was my pleasure, little one, to enjoy your sister's company even if the time was shortened for the light of Tilion alleviated wearily." Aegnor then turned to Andreth.

"I bid you a pleasant night, my lady. I hope we become better friends in the future." He said with a quirky half-grin.

Andreth felt her face heating up. The strange elf lord's unpredictable and otherworldly nature was really grating on her nerves. She then quickly turned away before he sees and followed her brother back to their own home.

When they arrived, Andreth asked her brother, "I wonder why he didn't kiss me."

Bregor looked at her puzzled.

"Why would he do something like that?" He asked incredulously.

"Because he is a prince and I am his princess, right? I wonder when he is going to sweep me off my feet and carry me to his snow-white horse. Isn't that how the story goes?" Andreth asked like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

Bregor just stood there and gaped at her until he burst into guffaws. Andreth's face heated up again.

"What?" She asked indignantly.

"Oh, little sister! You really have to grow out of that dreamy mind of yours before you embarrass the Bëor house and me!"

As time went by, the elven lord Aegnor and the girl of the Edain, Andreth spent more and more time together. Aegnor often invited her to his and his brother's mansion in the far, country side of Dorthonion when he learned that she was interested in history and lore.

The first time he asked her to visit his older brother, Finrod, so the two can discuss and learn from one another and their racial differences. She initially refused out of shyness although she was both flustered and flattered for being asked.

After a lot of coaxing and maybe a little bit of threatening, Andreth finally relented and started going to the Finarfinian house with her sister and brother.

"I am surprised your father let you come to us." Finrod spoke thoughtfully. "I didn't realize that young ladies were encouraged to learn the art of lore and philosophy nowadays. Time and generations do change as the years go by."

King Finrod was sitting on an armchair, next to his two other brothers facing Andreth, while sipping his wine. The dark room was light up by a single fireplace, illuminating the dark violet walls of the elegant elven mansion.

"Well, father didn't approve of me studying something that was originally reserved for men at first. When I learned that my aunt Adanel was a wise woman, and that she had a lot of interesting knowledge to her, I wanted to be just as smart. I kept begging my father to let me study with her. She wanted it also."

"I see." Was the answer from the lord of caves. Andreth went on.

"It is quite refreshing when you can learn so much like how the Eru had created the Valar and Maiar and the Valar in turn created Arda to resemble Valinor, but then Melkor had to come and mar it all.'

'Besides, I believe that we females have just as much right to know and learn things as well as men do. I think our old traditions are foolish and useless, don't you think?"

The three firstborn brothers laughed and the mortal girl looked at them questioningly and wondered if she said something she shouldn't.

"I told you, brother. This human has a spirit in her and you will have to start watching yourself." Aegnor said pleasantly and took a sip of wine from his goblet.

"She certainly is interesting." Angrod added in. Before the brown-haired mortal beauty in front of them could answer, one of the elven guards came in; his face was twisted with worry. He came up to the three Finarfinians and the group started speaking urgently in what Andreth could make out as Quenya.

The conversation went on for a while and she was getting discomforted with her presence not being wanted and not understanding anything the elves were saying. Finrod seemed to notice this.

"Oh, dear. I apologize, my lady Andreth. We realize we are being quite rude, but I'm afraid my brothers and I are going to have to head to Dor-Lomin soon for some pressing matters with our cousin. If necessary, we will stay there for a few days, thus our next meeting shall be postponed."

Aegnor nodded and asked, "Shall I walk you home, my lady?"

Andreth was a bit disappointed she did not get to spend more time with the elves, but tried not to show it. Pressing matters were pressing matters and her pettiness would very much be unwelcome. These ethereal beings were the rulers over her land and more, while they were kind and thoughtful towards her and her kin; they treated her as an equal. No special treatment for anyone when it comes to the eldar.

"No, I am fine. The walk back to Ladros is not far from here." She smiled softly, "and I happen to enjoy walking."

The routine went on like this for a while. Andreth would have her occasional visits with the sons of Finarfin and they would speak of philosophies, languages, art, differences in the psychology of men and elves and so on. There were also times when Andreth would be hanging around by herself when she did not have housework or private classes, and Aegnor would sneak up on her unexpectedly to her thrilled distress. Her siblings and father had noticed their dreamy family member began to open and socialize more.

There was a time when the two were taking a walk around the main area of beauty in Dorthonion. Tarn Aeluin, one of the fairest lakes in Middle Earth and Aegnor's favorite spot to spend his time in. Andreth was greatly delighted when the elven prince decided to invite her to join him for it was her first time there. She had heard of its wondrous beauty, but her family had never really let her go further than outside of Ladros.

As the two enjoyed the scenery surrounding them, Aegnor asked Andreth of her family, her interests, her ambitions, the fairytales she always dreamt about and other personal topics. She found herself answering and talking about them with ease in front of the elf lord to her surprise. He never laughed when she thought she had said something idiotic and if he thought her stories amusing and foolish, he did not show it. Rather, Aegnor was a great listener, only adding little comments here and there.

Aegnor once commented that Andreth was just like a little moth. When Andreth took offense to the 'tactless' remark, he explained that it was because of her boundless curiosity and that she always ran towards objects and subjects of her interest just like how a moth will not stop flying around a flame even if it knows the flame could burn it. The Bëorian girl had no answer to that.

It was inevitable that they would start talking on the subject of love. Andreth's face had turned redder than the crimson Pelargoniums that grew in Finrod's treasured garden when she found herself suddenly asking about Aegnor's wife. It was an impulsive question on her part and they left her mouth before she could think.

"I am so sorry; I hope I did not offend you with my question." She quickly said, but the golden-haired elf just smiled, clearly amused with how easily embarrassed the mortal was.

"I am not married." Was his easy reply.

"Oh. I see." Andreth was shocked when she realized a feeling of relief washed over her, but brushed it off as something silly.

"Do you have a husband or a lover, my lady?"

Andreth blinked, but then laughed loudly. Aegnor blinked and asked her what part of his question was so funny to her.

"No one is good enough!" She exclaimed. The two of them were sitting on the soft green grass a few feet away from the water now.

"All of the boys in my village are either too shy, too awkward, to rude or just plain pig-headed. The thought of me marrying one of them is a nightmare. They are nothing like the heroes that I have read about."

"They cannot be all that horrible. Your mother found someone as wonderful as your father, did she not?" Aegnor offered, but Andreth shook her head.

"My father was one of a kind and only a person as great as him appear once in a blue moon. The same is with my brother." She said sadly. She did not dare include the firstborn of course. She was not stupid. She knew they were elusive and including them would be foolish for they were completely out of any mortal's reach. After all, who has ever heard of such a thing between the two races? No, she must not think of it!

Aegnor raised an eyebrow and chuckled a little.

"Are they truly the only great men in your eyes? Perhaps you ought to broaden your horizons more. Pay attention to the good points of people and it might sweeten your judgment a little, my lady. " Andreth flushed and knew she must have sounded vain and haughty even if there was nothing to be arrogant about.

"I don't mean to sound arrogant, my lord. I just can't imagine myself being caged and married to someone who won't approve of my knowledge of the outside world and my longing for adventures. He might make me submissive to him and I will have to do housework day and night for him and I don't want that." She said quietly. Aegnor's face softened at that.

"Then you shall not be caged, my lady for you are born with a better fate than that! You shall grow wise every day and men and elves shall honor you for your intelligence and spirit." He said gently, and placed his hand on hers.

An involuntary shiver ran through her body when she felt his warm skin touched hers. The way he said that sentence gave her a feeling she could not comprehend. It was a mixture of happiness, relief and sadness all at the same time. When he looked at her, it felt like his piercing grey eyes could see right through her and she felt vulnerable. Aegnor, son of Finarfin confused her to no end and it drove her insane. He was always kind, but there were times when she could detect an undertone of coldness from him. He was always trying to get Andreth to open up, but he shared naught about himself. A reserve nature that Andreth mentioned to him once, but he just laughed and told her that he was content with just listening to her voice and that was enough for him. He just listened and before she knew it, she told him her entire life story. Kind and yet distant. That was what Aegnor was and she had thought she was used to it by now.

"Of course I don't include any of the eldar when I was complaining about the men back in my village, my lord. Especially you! Especially you…only you. I lo-…" Her cheeks turned cherry red; she quickly clasped her hand to her mouth.

Once again, Andreth almost said something she should not. Not because it was something she was not allowed to say or maybe it was, but she would never forgive herself if she said something that would make him pity her. She was after all, a secondborn. Whether Andreth likes it or not, she was the hopeless moth here.

Two hands firmly, but gently held her warming face and tilted it so that Andreth had no choice but to look at him. His eyes had a playful and yet wandering glint to it and his mouth curved upwards a little.

"'I what,' lady Andreth? Pray, do finish what you were going to say."

Her stomach was turning in all sorts of knots and Andreth had to fight to breathe properly.

"N-nothing." She managed to let out. Her face couldn't turn any redder and Aegnor found it painfully endearing.

"Nothing?" He asked. He did not let go of her face.

"I never should have said anything.' The hopeless feeling was returning.

'It was nothing important, my lord. Nevermind what I was about to say." She pushed herself away from him and began running back to the village.

He did not call for her and she did not look back.

That was the day when Andreth realized she was in love with Aegnor and she had a dreadful feeling that she would not be able to climb out of this water.

A few weeks passed with Andreth not going to the Finarfins and they did not bother her. She and Aegnor did not speak to each other ever since the incident at Tarn Aeluin. Aegnor did not see her after that and she did not see him. If Bregor noticed anything amiss with his younger sister, he did not question it and simply left her alone, dismissing it as 'women problems.' Beril on the other hand, took a lot of badgering to get her to leave Andreth alone.

Aegnor was also attending to his own work and business although whenever Angrod or Finrod asked why Andreth was not showing up anymore, he plainly told them that she just did not want to see him anymore and said naught more than that. Finrod was a bit consternated at the cryptic reply, but left his brother alone.

At Hithlum, Fingolfin, Fingon, Angrod, Aegnor and all the other leaders of the Noldor were having disagreements over whether or not to attack Angband directly. The ominous Noldorin leaders insisted that they build their own personal kingdoms throughout the land first. Fingolfin and his group, Aegnor and Angrod's group agreed that it is wisest to attack Angband head on before Sauron and his minions can think of giving the elves a surprise attack.

"Oh, won't those absurd so-called leaders of the Noldor ever listen to reason if they expect our people to be protected!" Fingon exclaimed, clearly annoyed and threw down his golden circlet on an ivory, marble table. The four noble firstborn were gathered around the massive hallway of the castle after the long conference.

Fingolfin, Fingon's sire, took a seat and began to rub his temples after the argument between their kin.

"What are we to do then? Without the support amongst ourselves, we do not stand a chance Morgoth and his army. They are breeding more orcs, balrogs, spiders, dragons and Eru knows what else. I sense that the Easterlings are leaning towards their side as well." Angrod said; his shoulders tensed.

A door burst open and in came an ellon. His magenta cloak swayed back and forth with each smooth stride, his sunlit, golden hair trailed below his knees and his green eyes were shadowed with worry and disconcert.

"Well met, my good friends and cousins. I see you know about the Noldor's decision to not partake in any preparation activities for the war?" The elf asked in a low voice. Aegnor came up to him and the two elf lords greeted each other in the traditional Noldorin gesture and embraced one another.

"Greetings, Glorfindel, cousin mine. I am distressed to say you are correct. Have you, Ecthelion and Maedhros' regiment strategize how we are going to divide our troops in all Ard-Galen and Dagor Aglareb?" Aegnor asked.

"We have sketched out a basic plan, but nothing is set in stone I am afraid for we have yet to gain approval from lord Thingol and the others." Glorfindel replied solemnly. Fingon scrunched up his nose and slammed his hand against the wall.

"This is ridiculous! Have no one got any common sense anymore. We shall all perish!" Fingolfin shook his head at his son's impertinent behavior.

"Peace, my son. Peace everyone. We will have to think of something another time. Evening is arriving and we have been doing nothing, but lingering on bickers that will get us nowhere. Morgoth will make his move soon, but we don't know when. For now, we can only wait and gather as much men from the Edain to join with us."

The elven men perked their heads up at lord Fingolfin's direction.

"And if they refuse?" Angrod asked. Fingon and Glorfindel had mild skeptical looks on their expressions. How can such weak mortals hope to stand up against the might of the dark Vala? The only children upon all of Arda that can manage against the upper beings are those of the eldar for they possess the supposed skills of the Valar and the Maiar.

"We eldar were the ones who took over their lands after all and we have built settlements and kingdoms upon it. Will the mortals fight for those whom have made them bow before the firstborn?" Aegnor added, resting his chin on two clasped hands. He sat behind the marble table and watched his peers intently.

Fingolfin's face was grim. "We are to tell Maedhros to build an army with us. We will recruit as much elves and men as we can in all of Beleriand. An army and union that history will not forget."

"Such actions could cause our human allies to turn against us." The Lord of the Golden Flower warned.

"We have no choice. Those who turn against us shall be immediately slain without mercy." Fingon's father concluded. A moment of silence filled with troubled thoughts and anxiety passed and Fingon's head perked in Angrod and Aegnor's direction.

"My friends! I heard there was a dinner celebration tonight for the son of lord Boromir, lord Bregor's begetting day. Shouldn't you two be getting ready?"

Angrod sat straight up, realization flooded across his face and Aegnor turned pale.

"How rude of us. How could I have forgotten?" He exclaimed, rubbing his face.

"Be still!" Beril whined as she tried to get her fidgeting older sister to stand still as the young girl tried to tighten her waist by securing the laces on the back of her deep, indigo dress. Although the gown was made of soft linen, Andreth had difficulty breathing as Beril kept pulling on the silk ribbons.

"I can't be still! You're hurting!" Andreth complained as she gave her sister a sideway glare.

"Of course it's going to hurt! Securing your fat stomach takes a lot of work you know." She shot back. "Besides, I heard the princes and the elves are going to be there. Should we not look our best?"

That seemed to trigger something in Andreth and she stood still for Beril to finish up with the lacings.

"What is the point of dressing up if the elves are going to be there? The elven maidens are going to outshine us all." Andreth grumbled and Beril rolled her eyes.

"Well, it is no question that we edains stand not a chance against the elven ladies and even more when they are in their fineries and jewels. However…" Beril flipped her curly, ginger hair back and she flashed Andreth a sly smile. "Didn't you say that it is more than the high cheekbones and creamy skin that matters? Why are you getting upset now?"

Andreth shifted her eyes and was about to protest her denial, but Beril interrupted her.

"I am starting to wonder if one of our princes has touched your heart because you have been acting rather peculiar lately, sister."

"What?! How so?!" Andreth questioned, genuinely confused, but not really. Pink began to color her cheeks. Beril laughed.

"Not to worry! I am not about to let you attend our dear brother's begetting banquet looking any less beautiful than an elf maid." She gave Andreth a wink and the browned-haired sister narrowed her eyes at Beril in suspicion.

"Now then, it is your turn to do my hair, Andreth."

Bregor's Begetting Day celebration was held in the main ballroom at Bëor's castle. The ballroom was decorated expansively with crimson wax candles hanging on the gold chandeliers, marble floors were glossed until you could see your reflection, the layered, sequenced drapes were dusted and an abundance of dishes and cakes garnished the rectangular, mahogany tables.

The elder brother of Beril and Andreth was greeting the vast amount of guests along with his father, Boromir. Friends and family from all over Beleriand sent greetings and congratulations on Bregor's coming of age and all brought gifts for the heir of Ladros. When the people of men finished with their greetings, the wide group of firstborns came and gave Bregor their respects and compliments. He looked like he was about to weep from joy. Everyone was dressed in some of their finest clothing and no one looked out of place, Andreth noted. The elves especially, looked the most glorious: in their shining circlets and headdresses, their sparkling gowns and robes stitched from the most skilled of hands and their long hairs looked more lustrous than usual.

After all of the guests have arrived, Bregor stood on the tallest platform in the back of the room and said his thanks to all that have come and hoped them a most pleasant and splendid evening. The servants then came out with bottles of wine and the supreme dishes to feast on. Andreth and Beril sat by Bregor and their father. Andreth and Beril, however, were not permitted to drink wine yet much to the two's disgruntlement.

When dinner was over, everyone sat down on their chairs pushed back from the center of the enormous room to make space for dancing and music. One by one, people began to enter the center of the ballroom and dance the traditional dancing of Dorthonion according to the music. The styles of the dances change with each different folk songs the musicians play.

Andreth stood in a little corner, trying to search for a certain elf lord, only to find him happily socializing within his group who were all apparently of the Eldalië. She could make out a male elf with long black hair which was braided in many thick plaits with gold. There were a few other elves drinking wine with the golden elf lord, but what caught Andreth's attention were the female elves standing on his right. One had ivory skin and raven black hair down her back. She was dressed in all white and it snugged on her beautiful, slender figure perfectly. The other elleth was also dressed in light colors, but her hair was her most splendid feature. The floor length locks were an interesting mix of gold and silver that seemed to glow around her body and her face had a shocking resemblance to that of Aegnor and his brothers. Just as Andreth had predicted, the two ellyth were gorgeous beyond words.

She stood back in her little corner and her eyes drifted towards the dancers on the floor. Beril had apparently left the palace after some suitor decided to sweep her from the dance floor and the two quickly left the castle to their own personal love affairs.

The movement of bright colors flashed back and forth continuously before Andreth's eyes and the music slowly and gradually droned out her ears. She stood there for a while and thought of the mysterious elven prince that had suddenly shone up in her life and all of the disorienting feelings and thoughts she had been having as of late. She thought of what had been and what could be if there was going to be anything between her and the prince. She thought of what has yet to come and remembers back on the dark shadow that clouded his eyes and hesitated.

Aegnor had said something about the dark curse of the Noldor, but offered her nothing else. "It would seem I do not have the most normal of relatives." Aegnor once said with a wry grin then his eyes grew withdrawn and pensive as he gazed at nowhere in particular when he and Andreth were on one of their nightly walks.

From where Aegnor was standing, his keen elven eyes let him make out a familiar figure huddling in a little corner in the back of the room. Andreth was beautiful tonight. A soft indigo dressed hugged her body nicely, flattering out her trim curves and it was off the shoulders, showing a little bit of skin. Her long dark hair was unbound and Beril had carefully placed tiny diamond, look-alikes on her thick weaves making her resemble a bit like the female Valar of the stars. Varda. Her face looked lost and Aegnor dove into her mind and emotions to feel and see what she was thinking and his stomach gave a painful squeeze as understanding and agony flashed across his face. It would seem his lady was beginning to grow feelings he and her both know would be the doom of them both. For what sort of elf could ever love a dying mortal, he always asked himself. In the end, there would be nothing for them both, but bitter spirits. Against his better judgment, he began to walk towards Andreth.

A hand shocked her out of her thoughts when it landed on her shoulder. She glanced back only to find Aegnor himself smiling down at her. He took her shocked gaze as her acknowledgment of his unforeseen presence and said:

"Shouldn't this lovely maiden be dancing out there with many a young suitor?"

Andreth turned back from where her eyes had been. "I cannot dance. Nor do I wish to, less I humiliate myself." She answered. Actually her mother had taught her many traditional, Dorthonion dances, but after her mother passed away from an unknown disease, Andreth's memories of her also passed away along with her.

Aegnor frowned in the same kindly puzzlement he often displays when there were some traits about mortals that were odd to him. Aegnor knew she can dance. He had seen it in her before; she was just being difficult and refusing to.

"Was there anyone that asked to dance with you?" He asked and Andreth shook her head and gave a little laugh.

"Not really. Most men go after my sister, Beril. She is more outgoing than I am and I do not wish to stumble on my feet."

"I can teach you then and you shall not stumble." Aegnor said.

"No it is fine, really. I will embarrass myself terribly out there." She stubbornly asserted as she gave a glance towards the ever graceful elves' fluid movements as they maneuver around the room. She cannot risk annoying her partner if she were to make a mistake with something like dancing.

Aegnor gave a click with his tongue. "Alright, this won't do. I will show you how to dance and I promise with all my heart that you will not embarrass yourself."

He carried her across the room, ignoring her objections and violent protests all together. Slowly, he began to show her the steps to the music and Andreth reluctantly followed. As time passed, the two began to enjoy themselves and Andreth was soon laughing gaily as Aegnor twirled her around the room.

When the moon elated, a sweaty and exhausted Andreth ran out of the castle and headed straight for her favorite lake, Tarn Aeluin. Without her knowing, Aegnor trailed right after her on silent elven feet.

Once she reached the lake, Andreth took off all her clothes, carelessly threw them on the black grass and jumped right into the cool waters. It was a hot, July night and the water felt euphoric against her skin. She looked up to see a vivid, yellow crescent moon with white, dotted stars twinkling against the dark sky.

Aegnor stood there and stared at the oblivious mortal maiden bathing in the lake. Her pale skin illuminated beautifully under the light of the moon and her dark hair was like ebony, cascaded over her shoulder as she raked her fingers through it. Her breasts and nipples gleamed heavenly as the water from her hair dripped in little columns upon her flesh and trailed down into nothingness. Aegnor had to hold his breath as he walked towards the breathtaking scene.

Andreth turned around and when she saw the elf lord, she gave a loud gasp and quickly snatched her dress and covered herself. Greatly mortified, she glared slightly at the man across from her; her face heating up.

"How dare you. I do not know if it is the same with the firstborn, but it is common courtesy amongst the secondborn to turn away when a woman is unclothed, my lord." She said, pretending to sound haughty.

A faint smile played on Aegnor's lips.

"It is a shame then for I do not think it is so courteous of the secondborn to have to look away from such a lovely sight like you, my lady." He replied and he took another step towards her until his flesh can barely feel hers against his lose tunic. He in turn felt his own body heating up as he imagined the contact her body could do to him.

Andreth's face heated up at his eloquence of speech and even more when she noticed the close proximity between her and Aegnor. She did not back away, however, and took his imposing presence with a calmness she knew she did not feel at all.

"Such talk! You eldar have no manners at all. Now then, if you would please turn away." She said; her heart was beating rapidly against her chest as she tried to compose herself under the elf lord's intense gaze.

Aegnor gave her words no mind and instead, paid attention to the way her brown eyes glared playfully at him, the pink that dusted her cheeks, the wet hair that clung to her skin and the soft, pink lips that moved lusciously as she chastised him. He swore that whenever he is around this mortal woman, he loses all sense of coherent thoughts.

"I am sorry, my lady. I fear I simply cannot turn away from such wondrous beauty and can only bring myself to feel and touch it instead." He gave a little grin. "As wise as we are made out to be, you will have to learn it is a terrible fault of mine that is very human as well."

Andreth wondered if all elves had a silver tongue. She gave a little scoff and was about to walk away, when one of the prince's hand held her waist firmly, but gently. His other hand graced her cheeks and his fingers trailed down her throat. His parted lips were only a speck further from hers.

Andreth had to fight to breathe normally as her eyes locked with his stormy ones with apprehension and the longing she knew she felt inside. Was that love and longing in his eyes?

Aegnor caught himself when he was about to take her addictive lips in his own like he had longed to do for a while now. These past few months had been a torture. He had tried to restrain himself around the innocent human girl and kept watch of himself and tonight, he had just broken it.

This woman that he had fallen in love with was a mortal. She would soon wither away and die like all other edains and leave him alone to all of Arda. The thought antagonized and pained him to no end. Then there was this issue with the war against Morgoth and the curse of the Noldor. He, just like his brothers has involved themselves with their cousins and their foolish actions at the kinslaying of the Teleri and the march against the will of the Valar and Eru. He, like most of the Noldorin, is an exile and lord Námo Mandos had already warned them of their impending doom.He will not involve Andreth in it and that is the one mistake he will not make.

Andreth looked curiously at Aegnor as he brought his hands down to himself and moved his face further away from her. His loving expression had turned troubled and forlorn and Andreth wondered what could be wrong with the elf's sudden change of demeanor.

"What is wrong, Aegnor? Where did all those smooth words of yours go?" She asked, trying to lighten his humour.

He was looking down at Andreth's reflection in the lake and she looked down to see what has caught his interest.

"What? What is it?" She asked when all she saw were disjointed images of her along the light waves.

Aegnor gave a soft chuckle. The laugh sounded amused, with the slightest touch of sadness in it.

"I see even the stars seem to follow your presence, dearest lady Andreth." He murmured.

Andreth looked down at her reflection more closely this time and indeed, there was a beam of light amidst the wealth of her brown hair. Such a little thing to her was nothing short of stunning to the elf lord and he stared at the reflection of the girl in the water and dared desire to caress it.

He looked back at Andreth who was staring at him, clearly perplexed with the whole situation. Andreth thought his mood swings were strange enough and now he was making anomalous observations about her. His eyebrows furrowed and he looked as if there was something that needed to be said between them.

In the end, all he said was: "I am sorry, my lady."

He then left the bewildered girl standing in the lake alone.

---

"I believe you have made a wise decision in leaving her, little brother." Finrod said as he took the reins of his milk-white horse out to the open of the field where his troops are going to line up the next day for battle.

Aegnor too, readied his weapons and placed them next to his steel, elven armor.

"But may I ask why you chose not to continue pursuing your lady? I want to hear it coming from your mouth."

Aegnor let out a sigh as he sat down on a boulder in front of his and Finrod's tent, his elbows rested on his wide, open knees.

"There was never a love like ours. Elda, I am and edain, she is. I have forever to live while her life is, but fleeting. She will grow old and become ashamed of the two of us standing next to each other as lovers and she will die, and I will be left alone in this world." He said and Finrod sat next to him.

"And even then, this is a time of war and as a Noldor, I have the duty of fighting against our enemies first."

"Indeed, that is true. The differences between our races are too much and your love for lady Andreth is the first between the two of our kinds. The very first to have ever happened upon middle earth, I am certain of that. My foresight has shown me something however. There will be a union between elf and mortal." Finrod replied. Aegnor lifted a golden brow.

"Is that right?"

"Yes, except it will not be an elven man and woman of the edain. It is the opposite in fact, but their love will not prove fruitless and I hope that brings you joy, Aegnor."

"I see. That is good to hear then." The younger prince said and then gave a short laugh.

"It is ironic is it not, Finrod? I heard there was this one story of a fellow dwarf who was in love with a mortal maid not too long ago." This caught his older brother's immediate attention and he turned towards him with a smile on his lips.

"Is that so?" He asked. Aegnor nodded and continued.

"The maid had eventually returned his feelings and they were wed. When I was younger and an unwise elfling, I had always thought men and naugrim inferior to us for we were immortal, wiser, stronger and even fairer. Foolish as I was, I now find myself envying them more than anything. Men and dwarves are very different, but they have one thing in common and that is their mortality."

Finrod pursed his lips and understanding melted into him as he gazed at his younger brother in melancholy.

Aegnor smiled bitterly. "For all the greatness that Eru gave us, it is also a blind curse. That human girl and the dwarf get to meet each other again, even after death and go to a place that will forever be restricted to us eldar."

That night was the first time in a long time that Aegnor wept. What for?

For everything…he would answer to himself.

The next morning, all the troops of soldiers from all over Dorthonion lined up in the front of the Pass of Aglon. Men and elves were all covered in armor and weapons, prepared to defend their land and also to die. The atmosphere was one of heavy pressure and solemnity.

Maedhros and Maglor were on the left, in front of their troops. Finrod, Angrod and Aegnor were on the right in front of their own men. All faced the Pass of Aglon in anticipation.

"Did you love her?" Finrod quietly asked Aegnor out of the blue.

Aegnor was not sure if he heard right so all he did was gave a little gawk at his older brother at his sudden abruptness. How could he answer such a question and especially at such a time? Andreth does not know and may not believe it as of now, but she is everything to Aegnor and what he is fighting for. She is the reason why he could bring himself to wake up this morning because he knew in the end, everything he is doing now is all for her.

He felt it last night. No one knew; not even his precious brothers. Last night, as he wept, his elven foresight gave him knowledge. A knowledge that he will never mention to anyone and no one has to know. His time from Arda was almost near and that was just fine with him. In the end, everything he does will be for her.

"I loved her and I will always love her for all that is beyond Arda." Aegnor said with finality. He was not even sure if he was answering Finrod or himself. His older brother studied him carefully and said nothing.

When the troops began heading towards their destination, Finrod asked one last thing of Aegnor.

"Tell me how you left her."

Aegnor knew that memory very well and acquiesced to his brother's request.

---

Andreth marched up to the infuriating blonde-haired elf that was outside of the stable, saddling his horse and fastening the leather bracers on his forearms. He was dressed for extensive riding and traveling, snugged up warmly in a woolen, grey cloak. His silky, red-gold hair was clubbed up in a loose pony-tail.

"Where have you been?!" She shouted once she was right in front of him. He looked up from shoeing the horse's feet and stood up, looking at Andreth inquisitively, but tiredly.

"I have been where I have always been, my lady. Around Dorthonion and outside of it if need be." Aegnor replied. Andreth snorted, her face indicated she was not convinced.

"Where you have always been? If that counts as you disappearing for weeks without having spoken with me in forever, then I might say you are lying or hiding something from me." She said. Aegnor sighed.

"Andreth, now is not the time for us to be frolicking around anymore. There is a war and I have a duty as a firstborn to my people."

"…Frolicking?" She asked, looking at him disbelievingly. Was that all it was between them? She had thought he had loved her. He did, didn't he? Surprisingly, she found a surge of rage, shock and disappointment hitting her like jagged rocks when he used that word to describe their time together.

"Frolicking?" She repeated, her voice low and careful and her eyes were to the ground as her emotions began processing. "Is that what it was? All of this?"

Aegnor's eyes were on her and he stood completely calm.

"Yes, my lady. We were simply frolicking and I enjoyed spending my time with you as a fellow friend. I apologize if you misunderstood my intentions otherwise." He said through tight lips, his back was straight and his eyes held no emotion as he held his gaze upon her form.

Andreth went still as the words slowly went through her mind. Her stomach lurched unappreciatively and she felt her throat tightening as her head went hazy.

"I see." She replied and Aegnor's elven ears could hear her voice cracked.

Before she knew it, her eyes were glistening with liquid and she furiously tried to blink them back before the prince could see.

"Are you going to leave?" She resolved to ask. Deep inside, she angrily knew she was afraid of his answer and mostly feared her reaction to it.

"Yes, my lady."

"Why? I thought that we-I thought you liked it here in Dorthonion!" She cried.

"This is not about whether I like it here or not, Andreth. Morgoth is going to attack anytime soon and I am not just a prince, but a warrior. My duty lies with my kin and that is the finality of things." Aegnor said simply.

"Your kin! Your race! That is all you talk about now. Is there anyone else you care about?!" She demanded, clearly frustrated.

"My lady, Andreth. Indeed there is someone I care for more than my own life and I beg you to not make this harder than it already is. Stay in Ladros and do not leave. Protect your family and your people." Aegnor ordered.

"Why?! You and your people can just run away! You all can go west with my people; there is no need for this. There is no need to fight!" She protested. She knew she was acting childishly, but cannot take back her words. This was, after all, how she truly felt.

Aegnor took a deep breath and closed his eyes. Andreth stood there in anticipation, tears were leaking down her face now. Finally, he opened his eyes.

"Did you not hear what I said? My obligation remains with the eldar. You, better than anyone, know what is to come and I had thought you were prepared for this day. What are you asking of me, my lady?"

Andreth looked up at him and pursed her lips. She could not be scared of it now. Scared of confessing for what has she to lose anymore? Nothing after the conversation that has just passed between them save the little dignity she has left.

"I thought you knew…about how I feel." The Bëorian girl whispered not daring to look into his grey eyes. For what shall she find there?

After a while, she looked back at him and he stared at her with something akin to pity and perhaps something else she could not make out. The pitiful stare directed at her humiliated and angered her. Her cold, sweaty hands clutched the shawl around her. His reply, she was not sure if she could handle anymore.

"Do not forget Andreth that I am under a dark shadow of the Noldor, my family's kinslaying, Morgoth's wrath and an exile. When I am with you, I knew I was chasing after something that cannot be nor ever happen because of the circumstances of just about everything. My lady, you are hoping in vain for nothing but a shadow."

If someone were to see the elven lord at the moment, they would see a picturesque of a composed and self-possessed man, but if an elf is keen and sharp enough, they could feel that Aegnor's fëa, his spirit, was in soundless agony as he said those cruel words.

He turned to leave, took his horse by the reigns to head out the iron Gate. Andreth held back a sob. She clenched her fists until her nails dug into her skin and made it bleed. She ran and dropped to her knees in front of him.

"My lord, please! I beg you!"

And all pride had been lost. She was the moth around here after all. Her head was bent and her fists grinded against the ground, her fingers clenched the rough grains of sand.

Steady footsteps came towards her until she found herself looking at the dark brown, leather boots right under her eyes. Two strong hands lifted up her face until she was forced to stand up and look at the most beautiful and torturous thing in her life; she wanted to cry even if she already is.

His cloudy eyes were no longer cold, but it was not amenable either.

"Edain you are, Andreth and eldar, I am." Aegnor gave her a brief, sad smile. "Fall in love with a mortal man, give him many children and be happy, Andreth."

And then he was gone. She did not even have time to see that he was gone. For the rest of the day, she did not cry anymore nor was she suffering. At least she did not think she was suffering. Andreth was just numb. She did not think, she did not cry, she did not smile, she did not laugh, she hardly talked, she just worked and studied with her aunt Adanel and life resumed back to its normal routine. For the rest of her days, she learned to become a wisewoman in her own right and had plenty of knowledge and aptitude to her that men and elves respected. Throughout her life and experiences, she had taught the young ones between what is right and wrong, but never enough for them to do completely what she tells them to do. Andreth teaches what she experiences and lets others do as they please until they can teach themselves from their own experiences. She never married and she did not have any children of her own. Many had thought her wise, but strong and cold. She considered herself neither.

Andreth was numb.

---

From the ground he laid on, Aegnor saw his dead older brother's body reclined next to the fiery feet of a monstrous being. A balrog.

A wound from battle kept Aegnor on the ground as his deteriorating sight could make out the sight of another balrog appearing next to the one by his brother's.

Angrod, his beloved brother and friend who had always been by his side as a young elfling to the grown firstborn he had become, now lay lifelessly on the ground; his hazed eyes rolled back in their sockets, his clothes covered in dried blood, golden-hair was matted and limbs spread out in all directions.

"Brother, you had fought valiantly this day and your sacrifice shall not be in vain. I will finish your honor and avenge you soon." He vowed, mostly to himself as he struggled to stand up.

The slashing sounds of the whips of the enormous, dark and terrible beings rung his sensitive ears as he gave a grab for his sword and shield. His battle helmet was no longer intact with his head and his hair hung all around him like the streaks of flames.

The first balrog made his way towards the elf and was about to use his whip to strike him, but Aegnor was quick on his feet despite the severe wound.

As he raised his sword up, he gave a good look at the cave-hidden beasts and finally realized the formidable foes he was up against and gave an ironic laugh.

"If this be the bane of me, then I ought to thank the Valar for willing to give me such an extraordinary and honorable death, fighting these sordid pets of Melkor himself!"

A whip lashed by and he ducked, rolled over and stopped himself immediately when the ground turned out to be discontinuous. If Aegnor rolled any further, he would have fallen straight into a large crack under the mountain. He looked down and all he saw was darkness. A few rocks tumbled down from where he laid and not a sound was heard if the rocks hit the ground at all.

That was how he came up with his plan. It was a foolish and tactless one, but now was not the time for genius strategy and a smooth exit. That role went to his older brother, Finrod Felagund.

Aegnor was not an idiot. In his state, there was no way he could battle two balrogs and make it out alive, but if he did not do something about the horrid creatures and die right there, they and the other spawns of Morgoth will head towards Dorthonion and wreak havoc everywhere and many deaths with occur. The other Noldors will not be prepared on time and any self-defense would be of no use.

And if she died…no. That will not happen. He will not let it.

Both of the balrogs made their way towards his crippled body, perpetually growling and glowing with inner fire. The smaller one raised its gigantic spear to gut him, but he was able to clasp it with both hands in time and hold it in place hovering above him.

Aegnor stood up, but still held on to the rusted, black spear with all his might so the smaller balrog cannot seize it back.

The larger balrog behind the prince took its colossal hatchet and started to bash it on Aegnor's head. From what was left of his fëa's energy, he was able to summon enough drive for one last elven power and that was to build a thin force around himself to repel the hatchet temporarily.

As his energy weakens from bodily wounds and exhaustion, the axe got nearer to injuring him rigorously and he began taking the blows as his head bled heavily.

But he would not budge and let go of the spear he was holding.

The beast angrily grabbed its dagger like tail and quickly stabbed the elf lord with it. The sharp end of the tail pierced his gut all the way through his back.

Perfect. Aegnor thought.

"I am sorry, mellon nin. I will die, but I will take the two of you to the everinexorable Mandos with me."[

He grabbed the length of the vine-like body part of the balrog and threw it around him and the other one until they were tangled upon one another, bonded. With his very last strength, Aegnor hurled the two off the ground right into the large, black cleft. The sound of fire and explosion was all he heard as he finally succumbed to his fatal wounds. Blood poured out of his body severely as he rested his back on a smoother, solid part of a wall. His breathing was getting weaker and ragged. He did not feel any pain despite his hurts.

As his eyes closed, his mind drifted faraway and he recalls back his reminiscences in Valinor, his childhood, his Atar and Amil whom he will never see again, the two trees, his uncle Fëanor's silmarils, Morgoth, the banishment from Valinor, the Helcaraxë, the journey to middle earth, and last, his dearest Andreth.

It was a kaleidoscope of colors in his mind that was jumbling around all over. His mouth was parted and he laid still, readying for the numb and the feeling of nothing take over leisurely. Random recollections from his past flick back and forth, and there was one memory that pondered in his head.

Aegnor was just a tiny child then, but he remembered that day clearly as his younger sister's glass mirror.

A young boy with unruly golden hair was playing in the central courtyard of Tirion. His parents were at the main court in Aman and his older brothers were playing with their half-cousins. Little Aegnor was told that he cannot play with them because he was too little. The bereft, unhappy child was left to play around by himself.

That day in Tirion, Aegnor was chasing around a blue butterfly roving around the large gather of lavenders near a small, silver fountain and his uncle, Fëanor, just happened to be passing by. The seminar in Aman had just ended and the man had apparently journeyed back to Tirion with Finarfin and his family.

The moment Fëanor saw the young child in the yard and the natural fire that seemed to radiate from the boy, he walked over with a contemplative look on his fair face.

The famous Fëanor was hard to overlook, even among family members and Aegnor had hoped to grow up to be just like his awe-inspiring relative; perhaps one day, even make gems and other meticulous mechanics like him. Upon seeing his uncle, Aegnor excitedly ran over to him with a reverential expression. The look looked provokingly naïve and purely innocent with his round face, still pudgy from baby fat with his overly large, spherical grey eyes to accompany it.

"What are you doing all by yourself, little one?" The deep, baritone voice of his uncle rumpled from his chest and little Aegnor grinned with glee.

"My brothers and cousins will not play with me so I am all alone. That is alright though because there is a butterfly over there by the fountain that I am trying to catch to show ada and maybe he will be proud of me." He chirped. Fëanor narrowed his eyes at his youngest half-brother's littlest son and his foolish doings. Regardless of the child's still inexperienced nature, he clearly had a blinding aura about him that Fëanor sensed that could rival even his own spiritual fire. He had the strangest feeling that Aegnor Finarfinian was to do great things in the future and surpass the great Fëanor one day. Through his brilliant mind, the gem-smith had a little idea he entertained for a while and perhaps the youngest son of Finarfin could accomplish it.

"Little Aegnor, do you have a busy schedule for the rest of the day?" He asked the elfling. Aegnor shook his head rapidly.

"No, sir. Not at all, ada and amil have their own work to do and my brothers and cousins will be busying themselves with their grown-up games so I will not have anything to do. Do you need anything, uncle Fëanor?" He said all that in a hush and his uncle chuckled at the child's eager response.

"I need you to do a little something for me, little one. Do you think you can meet me by the rose coppice this evening?"

"Yes, certainly! What do you need me to do?" Was the fervent reply.

"You will know if you promise to be there and to absolutely not tell anyone else. This is strictly between you and me, child." The smith answered back with a little smile. He gave his pony-tail a tug as he looked down at the tiny elfling expectedly.

"I promise, my lord!" Aegnor was not sure why his uncle would want to hide this from anyone else, but he was just glad that his splendid uncle had spoken to a boy such as him at all. He did a little cross on his chest and hoped to die. The tiny prince looked up at his uncle in anticipation to see if what he did was the 'correct' thing. Fëanor nodded.

"Then it is settled." With that, he left with a strong flick of his red cloak and then he was gone.

Later that evening, as promised, Aegnor arrived at the rose coppice an hour early, patiently waiting for his infamous half-uncle. When the genius smith arrived, he was not surprised to see his young nephew there early and waiting for him enthusiastically. The child always had a bold and jittery spirit to him.

"Come with me to this place Aegnor and you will soon know what I need you to do." And they left quickly but noiselessly.

After a little bit of walking, Fëanor halted and told the elfling that they were finally at their intended destination and Aegnor looked around him curiously. He froze when in front of him, stood the two trees of Valinor. The leaves and barks of the gargantuan foliage shone with such bright luminosity that if a mortal were to feast their lowly eyes upon Laurelin and Telperion (the two trees,) they would immediately be blinded and annihilated.

"What are we here for, uncle?" Aegnor asked and Fëanor looked down at him, his own grey eyes staring deep into his nephew's rounder ones.

"I need you, little Aegnor, to pick a leaf from both Laurelin and Telperion." The calmness of his uncle's voice for such an illicit task rustled the little prince's nerves.

"What?!" He gasped and gaped at his uncle, disbelief written all over his face, but then tried to recover quickly. "But isn't that forbidden uncle? These are the trees created by lady Yavanna and I cannot steal for the Valar!"

"You are not stealing from the Valar little one. You are simply borrowing from them and everything will turn out alright in the end, you shall see." Fëanor replied in a nonchalant manner.

"What do we need to borrow the leaves from the trees for, uncle?" Aegnor asked, still a bit skeptic at the notion he will have to soon undertake.

"Oh, I will simply use these leaves for a greater purpose and that purpose will eventually evolve into the most wonderful and beautiful things you will ever see, dearest Aegnor. Something even more valuable than these little trees you see now. The Valar will not mind us taking something of theirs just for a little while to make such great objects. Don't you worry, little one."

Aegnor nodded slowly. His uncle's explanation was beginning to make sense to him and he stared at the trees, contemplating how he was going to climb up high enough to reach a leaf. The trunks were impossibly high and falling from there sounded most unpleasant to the little elven prince.

"Will you help me, child? I thought you once claimed you wanted to be just like I. Will you not take this chance to prove yourself?" Fëanor asked his nephew, his mind danced with quiet delight to see the youngest son of Finarfin slowly letting the smith win over him.

"I will, my lord. I did promise you this afternoon that I will do as told after all." Aegnor replied diligently. He rolled up his trousers and sleeves for easy maneuvering and ran over to the trees.

"Once you finish fetching the two leaves, you will hand them over to me in Aman. Can you do that bidding of mine, little Aegnor?" Fëanor called up to the climbing elf.

Aegnor nodded back hurriedly as he tried to steady himself and grab the little branch up top for proper balance.

His uncle left him to do the favor and about a few hours of climbing and bruising, the prince finally obtained the two leaves. However, reckless footing caused him to tumble down the tree of Telperion and he ended up walking all the way back home with a sprained ankle. The walk was slow and excruciating with a swollen foot, but Aegnor kept himself going without a tear. He figured it would be best to hand his uncle the shiny leaves the next day since it would not do the child any good to walk all the way to Aman by himself and with a sprained ankle no less.

"Where have you been, child?! We were looking everywhere for you!" Lady Eärwen shrieked when she saw her youngest son stumbling on the large doorstep of the house of Finarfin.

"Nowhere. I was just out walking as usual, mother." The child lied through his teeth, but his mother was not fooled. She saw the strange light coming out of Aegnor's pocket and snatched his hand a bit roughly and pulled him over closer to her.

"What do we have here?" The queen of the Noldor demanded as she carefully took the mysterious, bright objects from Aegnor's trousers. His mother's grip was too strong for the elfling and he was forced to stand still. The only person Aegnor was afraid more than Fëanor was his own mother. The woman was frightening when she wanted to be and he and his family learned that trait the hard way a good many times.

Horrified recognition crossed over lady Eärwen's soft features and her eyes widened as if she had seen a ghost.

"Where did get these?" She whispered. Remembering his promise to his uncle, Aegnor kept his mouth shut and settled with just staring at the ground. Eärwen shook his shoulders and kept asking, but the boy was silent.

The queen ordered a passing servant to call for her husband and he rushed down to meet his wife's distress. Upon discovering the leaves of the two trees, the couple was finally able to get their son to answer for the horrendous felony. Aegnor confessed that they were all for uncle Fëanor and the leaves would be useful to create something wonderful and beautiful. When Finarfin discovered that this was his own half-brother's doing, he rubbed his temple and sighed. The family swiftly made their way to Aman the next day to confront Fëanor himself.

"Your son has a fire in him just like what I see in myself. He wants to be just like me; he even told me himself. So I just gave him what he desired. I made him useful like he always wanted to be and he did prove himself to be useful." The smith said, sitting on his favorite chair in his favorite study room.

"You have gone too far this time, brother." Finarfin said in a low growl. This was the first time Aegnor had heard his father speak in such a tone; His usually mild-mannered, loving and wise ada.

"Half-brother, I think." Fëanor corrected with a slow sip of his blood-red wine. Finarfin said nothing to that and just glared at the son of Miriel who took the situation too coolly for the golden-haired king's liking.

"Do you know what you could have done?! We could all have been in trouble! All of the house of Finwë would be disgraced because of your foolish and selfish ambitions, Fëanor." Finarfin snapped. This time, the eldest son of Finwë stood up from behind his desk; all tranquility drained from his sharp, angular face and was replaced by sheer fury.

"Foolish and selfish you say?" He repeated, not without scathe. "You lot should be thankful I am even taking my time to create something majestic for all of you to relish and this is what you give me in return? By calling my work and soul idiotic?!"

Finarfin calmed down a little and looked at his brother with regret and even sympathy.

"Be at peace, Fëanor. Your work had always been remarkable and I understand you continually put all your being into it, but there are limits to everything. You cannot change the impossible to a possibility. That was always a bad habit of yours, brother. Stealing from the lady Yavanna for instance!"

And Fëanor laughed. It was a bitter one, but he did not say anything to Finarfin. He turned his disturbing grey eyes from his half-brother to his nephew's. The subtle maniacal look in his uncle's eyes made Aegnor's little stomach churn and he grabbed his ada's hand, but stared back at his uncle with equal footage.

"How do you feel now, little Aegnor? Are you happy that I simply used you? Are you happy to be part of my future creations?" Fëanor asked, his lips curled back in a sneer. It did not go unnoticed by the little prince.

Aegnor bit his lips hard enough to spill blood. The taste of salt and iron filled his mouth and he licked his lips. His grey eyes looked up at his uncle; the grey eyes that used to look up to Fëanor with such admiration and adoration now held no emotion.

Silence.

The little elf suddenly broke into a wide smile. He walked up to the table that the silver and gold leaves of Laurelin and Telperion sat on and took them. He raised his hand towards his uncle in supplication.

"I hurt my right leg, but I managed to get the leaves for you, uncle. I am happy and I hope that you are happy as well." He said with a gentle lilt of his voice and for a moment there, the childish edge to his voice disappeared.

With that, Aegnor turned around and walked out the door with his father. Fëanor stared at their backs until the door slammed shut.

Aegnor smiled sardonically to himself at the memory. Another drop of blood slicked down his cheek from the head. That day was the day the elf lord discovered his uncle, Fëanor, was mad. It took a while for Aegnor to adjust upon realizing the person who used to idolize so much had turned insane and all of Valinor knows it and resents him.

He did not understand why of all the recollections running wild, this one stuck long enough for him to recall all the details, but that was what it was.

Another memory came. This one was still fresh and recent.

Aegnor opened his eyes and in front of him was a beloved and familiar scene of a lake at night. The stars were shining and a bright moon lighted up the soft waves of the water and the tips of the fern trees and grass. Inside the water was a feminine figure clad in blue, dark hair unbound flowing freely around her smiling face.

Andreth Saelind, Aegnor mouth to himself.

She got out of the water and stood over his bloodied and immobile body with a cheeky grin on her face, her eyes were alighted with mirth.

"What is the matter, elf? Where is the quick and elegant Aegnor that used to move around so swiftly and strikingly, huh?" She asked and the prince smiled.

"Aegnor?" She questioned, her eyes were now concerned.

"Andreth…" was all he said, his eyes began to water, but with quiet happiness. "If this is a dream or hallucination, then I do not ever wish to sober up."

"Dream? Hallucination? What are you going on about, my lord?" Andreth cocked her head to the side and stared at him inquiringly.

"Andreth…love…"

"Aegnor?" Andreth asked, now leaning over him. "Are you alright?"

Aegnor tried to raise a hand and brushed her cheek lovingly and gently.

"Andreth…" Was all he murmured over and over and she sat there silently, letting him caress her cheek.

Aegnor felt himself slowly fading and the hand that touched his dearest one steadily collapsed to the ground.

"Aegnor? Are you unwell?" Was her loving voice and she made a quick grab for his hand and held it to her chest. Oh how dearly he wished he could relish himself in her sound and touch for all eternity.

But life was not so kind.

With a faint and melancholic smile, Aegnor took one last look at the beautiful image of the mortal woman next to him.

"Andreth…forgive me…my love…" And his eyes closed.

He dreamed for a long while.

The image of the lake and Andreth disappeared and the insides of the cave once again, made itself known.

*A few weeks before…*

"I see," an Andreth in her forties said, "All you elves reckon that we mortals die hastily. That we are fragile and brief and you all are strong and eternal. We may be the 'Children of Eru,' as you say in your lore, but are we not children to your kin's eyes also? You might love us a little, but nevertheless, we are creatures of less worth and you may look down from the height of your power and your knowledge with a smile, with shaking heads or even with pity."

Finrod sat beside the lady in the dark room ablaze with a single fire between the firstborn and the edain.

"Regrettably, you speak near the truth." The elven King stated, his light blue eyes staring into the flames. "At least, many of my people are just like you said, but not all and certainly not me. But remember this, Andreth, when we call you the 'Children of Eru,' we do not speak lightly. We claim that you are of close kin to us and more so of spirit and body than which binds us together all creatures of Arda and ourselves to them."

Finrod paused for a moment and turned to glance at his companion.

"But if we were to consider the shortness of life; do you say we must not consider the fleeting nature of your kin? Do your people deny this?"

Andreth turned to look hard at the king. "I believe all of you think likewise and the reason for that is because of the shadow of opinions. Yet among my people, from the wise and the unwise, there is a voice saying that Men were not how they are now nor was mortality our nature to begin with. The malice of the Lord of Darkness was the reason we became thus.'

'We were not made for death nor were we born to die. Our brevity of life was imposed upon us, my lord. And now do you see? We mortals shall continue to live in fear and we try to flee from that is which our fate."

Her brown eyes were grave and the soft wrinkles were beginning to appear more prominent on her once fair face as she said those words.

Finrod frowned a little at the human woman's explanation for the fate of Men.

"I do not believe your tale, my lady. Death is just a name you give something that is tainted by the dark lord. But suppose he had not tainted your kin, perhaps your shortness of life is a good thing? I see you will not consider the diminishment that all of Arda marred suffers from, but you only recognize the enmity that Men suffer from."

Andreth pressed lips together and stared truculently into the fire. Finrod smiled and placed a fair hand on her clasped and worn ones.

"We know Melkor, Morgoth. We know him to be mighty and terrible; even so, not even in his might could he prevail against the Children of Eru. Melkor will cheat and corrupt, but to change the doom and inheritance of Men, only Eru have the abilities to do."

"It is so easy for you immortals to say, is not it." Andreth snapped, looking at him. Finrod slanted his head slightly and observed Andreth inquisitively.

"What did you Men do long ago in the dark to have angered Eru? Otherwise, all your tales you tell me are but dark thoughts from a negative mind."

"I would not know what we could have done to anger The One, my lord." Andreth replied.

"Does the Valar not know?" The elf lord pressed on.

Andreth looked up at Finrod and her brown eyes darkened with dry humour. "The Valar? How should I or any edain know about such beings? They do not trouble nor bother to care about us. Why should we them?"

"Has it ever entered your thought, Andreth, ages long past, you may have put yourself out of their care and beyond the reach of their help? I do not say this to flatter your pride, but Men are the sole masters of themselves within Arda.' Finrod said matter-of-factly.

'But let us discuss what you said before. About how you think that men and elves should have been the same in terms of immortality, what did you mean by that?"

"The lore mentioned not of you," Andreth said, "for we knew nothing of the eldar. We only learned of dying and not dying. We learned of life as long as the world lasts and only now, did the thought of a short life enter our mind.'

'We already had our lore and need none from the firstborn. We knew from the beginning we were never to die and by that, my lord, I mean: born to life everlasting, without any shadow of any end."

The elven king pondered on that thought and rubbed his chin a bit. He then helped himself with some wine from the tray next to him and took a sip.

"If you truly understand your own words, you claim that you have enduring bodies and are not bounded by the limits of Arda and yet still sustained by it. Although you may not have professed this, you claim also that the body and spirit of the edain are not in coordination. Yet the harmony between body and spirit is essential to the true nature of Arda unmarred. Of this, we eldar are certain that men and elves, though of close kin, are not the same. You see, the spirit of men will not be confide to Arda only like ours are.'

'Our kindreds perceive the nature of the world very differently and value its beauties in different ways. How shall I say this? The firstborn say that mortals look not a thing for itself; they only study and observe it too look for something else and if they love said thing, it is only because it reminds them of something dearer. And yet what are these dearer things?"

As the Lord of Caves talked, Andreth listened. His patronizing way of speaking provoked her irrevocably, but who is she to go against the wise, older and fairer ones? She was only a mortal and any immature opinion of hers does not count. So she sat with tight lips and listened while staring into the fire.

"And yet you amaze me, Andreth!" Finrod said suddenly. "For if what you claim is true, then lo! But I still believe that the role of men in middle earth is to not be called 'followers' but the 'fulfillers.' You all will heal Arda which had been tainted by Melkor into something greater. Arda unmarred and to sing a song with Eru. The edain will be the ones to complete the music."

At this, Andreth turned to glance at the elf incredulously and Finrod continued with his thoughts.

"I wonder if the edain had not heard an important part of the past music Eru created however. Perhaps there was something in the final chords that overwhelmed men and they had not perceived it? Even then, Eru is all mighty and he might have made no music at all to begin with.'

'Worry not Andreth, once Arda dies and the world ends, all the Children of Eru dies along with it. I do mean us elves also."

Andreth gritted her teeth.

"Did you say that because you thought it would satisfy me or make me any happier?" She countered. Her clammy hands shook slightly and Finrod shook his head, chuckling gently.

"Nay, my lady. I beheld a vision that one day in Arda remade, the completed eldar will walk with men and you will sing songs to us beyond the sea bliss, the green valleys and the everlasting mountains." The Lord of Caves stopped there for Andreth sat still as ice. She made not a sound, but elven eyes made out the tears that streamed down her fair cheeks. He noted that this was probably the first time in a long time that she wept. She had been holding it all in for a while.

"Unfortunately, my lord! What then is to be done now? You speak of these things as if they are assured to come at all. But the edain are desolate, all of our powers are taken away. We can only look now for Arda unmarred: darkness lies before us, into which we watch in vain. If you mean to aid us by decking your extravagant mansions, they will not be built now." She cried and looked at him with nothing, but despair in her eyes.

"Have you then no hope?" Finrod looked at her back passively in the face.

"Hope? Do you mean an expectation of good or do you mean by 'looking up?'"

"Estel. Trust, Andreth. Do you have any hope?" Finrod answered.

"Then we have none. I apologize, but I do not know the meaning of hope nor do I have any for myself, my lord." The mortal woman sat back and stared into the fire resignedly; her hands once again, clutched each other.

She sat silent for a moment, but then said, "There are few of us who still cling to the 'Old Hope' however. Eru himself will come to Arda and heal all that had been damaged."

Finrod stared at Andreth with a brooding expression.

"You believe what I said were 'mere words.' What has passed between you and I now is, but emptiness. Surely there is more than that? Have we not drawn near at all? I can think of little to comfort you now."

"I have not asked for comfort, my lord Finrod; and I especially have no need for pity from the elves." Andreth responded. Her voice was as cold as a winter's morning.

"Indeed you have no need for comfort. For the doom of men has touched you as a woman. You fear and are angered by my brother's choice are you not. For men's fate will gradually rid you of fairness and youth of face. You will no longer be able to bear children and at an age where you cannot stand to look at him in the eyes. Do you think I do not know? Was my brother not dearly loved by you? Aegnor: Aikanar, the sharp flame, swift and eager. It was not long since you two have met and your fate was touched by this doom. And yet, you were a maiden; brave and eager upon the high hills of Dorthonion." The Noldorin king pronounced.

Andreth clenched her hands into fists. The rage she felt cannot even be described as she glared resentfully at this torturer of her world.

"Go on! Say it, why don't you! Bring back all those dreaded memories I had forced myself to forget. Tell me that I am, but a lowly wise-woman, alone and bereft. Age and grey hairs shall not touch neither you nor him. But say that it will touch me just like he once did!" She stood up and pushed her wooden chair back violently. Oh how she would have loved to plunge a dagger into the elf's heart for making her recall the past! But then that would only be insufferably regrettable in the end would it not?

Finrod regarded her calmly.

"Alas! That is bitterness right there, oh beloved adaneth: mortal woman of men is it not? This entire time, bitterness had been under all your words. What can I say to remind you of the hope you yourself have revealed?"

"I never said that I shared the same hope. And even if I did, I would still weep: Why should this hurt come here and now? Why should I love him and he love me if there is to be this damned gulf between us?" Andreth said, breathing unevenly as she stared down at the elf king.

"Because, Andreth, we are of close kin." Finrod answered gently, holding her cold hands. "We did not ask to be who we are therefore we could not see the gulf. The firstborn are not lordly in this but pitiful. I know you despise that word, but there are two kinds of pity. One is recognizing the differences between our kindreds and is near to love; the other is of a different fortune perceived and is near to pride. I speak of the former."

"Do not talk to me about either of them! I desire it not. I was a young and unwise maiden. I fell as I looked into his flame and now I am old and lost. He was young and his flamed scorched me, but he turned away and his flame burns still."

She paused and looked up to the ceiling.

"Do candles pity moths?" Andreth wondered aloud.

"And do moths pity candles when the wind blows the flame out?" Finrod retorted. "I tell you, dearest mortal woman, Aegnor the swift flame, loved you and still does ardently. For your sake, he will never take the hand of any elven bride, but will live alone until the end, remembering the morning in the high hills of Dorthonion. But soon, his flame will go out! Do you not understand Andreth? Aegnor is dying and he will not return from the halls all for your sake."

Andreth did not say a word, but was still indignant. She stretched her hands into the fire to warm it up.

"Then why did he leave? Why, when I still had a few good years to spend before I became old and wrinkled?"

"If I told you the truth, you will not be satisfied. This is the time war and elves do not wed and bear children during it. Aegnor has not trust in the outcome of this battle nor do I. What will become in this land you live in if he followed his heart? If he did as he truly wished, he would have taken you and flee far away east or south, forsaking his kin and yours. Love, loyalty and wisdom stopped him from these actions. What of you? You, yourself have said there is not escape in this world." Finrod took another sip of his wine.

"For one year…one day…for the fell flame, I would have given it all: kin, youth, hope…everything. Adaneth, I am." Said the Bëorian woman sadly.

"And that he knew, but did not dare to grasp what lay in the palms of his hands. Elda, he is. For such high trades come with anguish that is indescribable.'

'Keep in mind, Andreth. Such unions between elves and men are cause only for some high purpose of doom that will affect Arda. Brief it will be and hard at the end. The least cruel fate is that death should soon end it."

Finrod's words were cold and cruel to Andreth's ears. Unions between elves and men are only for some high purpose of doom? Why should such words shock her now of all the times she spent with the elves?

"But we mortals are forced to take it hardest. I would not have troubled him once I hit near death. I would not even have dreamed to hobble behind him as a hag when I cannot even run beside him like I once did!"

Finrod sighed.

"Will he be there when you are gone? Will he be there, bright and tall with the wind in his hair?" Andreth asked after a while. Tears still stained her face. "I beg you to tell him not to be reckless. To not seek danger beyond need!"

This time, Finrod cried as well. Why, one would ask. For everything…he answered himself.

"I will tell him, my lady Andreth. I will tell him."

---

A haggard and elderly Andreth was sitting in front of a mirror in her bedroom, staring at her reflection absent-mindedly. White was her hair and complexion drooped and thinned out. Her body was shrill and bent, draped in a simple, plaid shawl. From the corner of the glass, she saw a little shadow flickering around a light. She leant closer into the mirror and saw a little brown moth flying around a single lighted candle.

The moth flew back and forth from the flame and each time it flew back to the bright light, it got nearer and nearer to being burned.

No…Get away from it…Andreth thought inside her head repetitively, but the moth was stupid and did not care that it was going to die if it got any closer to the beautiful, golden flame.

"It does not matter if it is going to kill it. Moths will always fly back to the fire no matter what. They cannot think on their own to save themselves." Beril once said to show off what she learnt in her school that day.

The little shadow wavered closer. Before the soft ray of the flame could touch the fragile, velvet wings of the insect, Andreth shoved her chair back and ran over to the two subjects of her attention. She roughly pushed the little candle away and it plummeted to the ground with a thud. Cupping the moth in her hands, she banged open the window and let set it free.

Andreth stared back after it as it flew over the high trees and slowly disappeared from her eyes. She glanced back at the candle on the ground with antagonism and spite.

Stalking out the door of her room, she took one last look at the reason of her malevolence lying, lifelessly on the wooden floor. The flame was gone; replaced by whiffs of smoke, dancing around the tip. The white traces got more transparent the more she waited as if something were to happen.

Andreth walked over to it and picked the candle handler up gently and placed it on her vanity table. She took out a lighter and began to light it up again.

Nothing happened.

She discarded the first one and took out another lighter and tried again, but to her beginning anxiety, not a sign of spark lit up.

Over and over again, the candle would not light up and Andreth's stomach roiled as she began to panic. She continued to waste the lighters until she ran out.

"Help! Someone…help me. Beren!" She yelled and began shaking all over. Her door slammed open and in came a little boy running in with a worried look over his boyish features. He was thin and short. Tuffs of dark brown hair covered his head and brilliant, icy blue eyes shone beneath the tresses.

"Aunt?! What is wrong? Are you hurt?" He ran over to Andreth and checked her crippled body fastidiously for any sign of injury.

She pushed him away.

"Beren! I do not know what is wrong! This candle will not light up, what is wrong with it?!" Andreth said with a high-pitched voice she could not seem to hold back down. Her grand-nephew took the tiny object from her hand and took a good look at it.

"There is nothing wrong with the candle aside from the need to change the wax and oil, aunt Andreth." The boy stated, looking at her as if she had gone mad for the bizarre reaction.

She panted and looked at Beren with wide eyes. Andreth then fell down to the floor and let out a sob. Panicked and stricken, the mortal woman began to laugh and cry at the same time.

"Oh, my dear nephew. It was just a candle! A goddamn candle! What is the matter with me?" She asked repeatedly as her confused relative held her; rocking her back and forth gently.

After a moment, Beren got a new candle and replaced the old one. Soon, a familiar and comforting light lit up the room again.

Author's Note: Well, what can I say. I don't think I have ever written anything this dramatic and depressing. If this did not make you cry or tear up, I will have to try harder next time then. The last conversation between Finrod and Andreth were clips from the "Athrabeth Finrod a Andreth" from Morgoth's Ring by J.R.R Tolkien. I just reduced the conversation and simplified the words so that it will be easier for readers to understand. I added details and extra stuff obviously to show the readers what I assumed Andreth to be feeling during the whole conversation so I own no rights to NOTHING. I know that you all saw a lot of grammar mistakes while reading this. I am not a grammar person so you can correct me, but at this point, I'm too tired to make any corrections.

Anyway, leave reviews, tell you me what you think and that all these hours I spent was worth something. Thank you!