Prince of the Silmarils

by Slick146

It has been over a thousand years since the elves destroyed Númenor in the great uprising and banished the humans to the west. Now, Thunder, the king of the Dragons lies dead. Faunus wage a guerilla war in Xadia against the elves. Reports of Grimm are growing. The world seems set to descend into all-out war, as dark forces gather their strength. Dragon Prince/Tolkien/Rooster Teeth

Callum was dreaming again. It was the same dream he'd been having for about a week now. Given his photographic memory, he knew every detail by heart, but experiencing it again still felt brand new each time.

In this case, however, he didn't find it a good thing.

When it started, he was standing on a mountain, high above a vast land of golden plains and below a sky marked by brilliant light. Upon this mountain, Callum found himself between the two most beautiful trees he'd ever seen. When he was awake, Callum had tried sketching them. He already had filled numerous pages of his sketchbook with these trees, but he just couldn't capture their light. They were so divinely beautiful it was as if a goddess had made them.

One had bark that was pure silver, its leaves a dark green. Flowers bloomed across its branches, shedding silver dew of water and light. Callum sensed age and wisdom radiating from him - it was strange, but Callum simply couldn't help thinking of this tree as a male.

Then there was his mate. She had bark that was bright gold, almost like the sun itself. Plump fruits were ripening on her branches, ready to be plucked. Callum's mouth watered at the sight of them, sure that if he ate just one he'd never hunger again.

But it was their shining light which made them truly beautiful. The only thing that came close to matching them were the brightest stars. They were beacons of hope and life, driving off the darkness.

Then a figure came out from the darkness, and the darkness followed him. Callum shuddered when he gazed upon his face. Once, he must have been very handsome, but now, as his mouth twisted into a cruel grimace, Callum only saw malice adorned in large and cumbersome armor, as black as his soul. If there was such a thing as pure evil, Callum knew it dwelt in this man's eyes.

But what truly stunned him was when he saw there was hope in his eyes as well, unlike any kind of hope he'd ever heard of. It was twisted and dark, a mockery of real hope. This wasn't the hope to bring about a brighter future or create works of beauty and love. It was hope that grown into a desire to destroy, corrupt, and defile everything that existed until nothing remained but a burning landscape of fire and blood.

In one hand he held three shining jewels, stones of the same light as the trees that sizzled and burned his palm and fingers, turning them a sickening black. In his other hand was a wicked spear, head stained and dripping with fresh blood.

Then there was the darkness itself. Callum had never seen anything like it. It crawled on eight bulbous legs, body held low to the ground while what could only be described as "unlight" dripped from its fangs. Eight black, hungry eyes swept across the trees, full of hate and lust.

The man stepped forward and furiously lashed out his spear, slashing across the bark of first the white tree and then the golden, letting their sap trail out like blood from open wounds. Callum had to do something, despite his terror. He could feel the peril of the trees. It was strange to say so, but somehow, Callum could hear their cries for help. He couldn't let them die, not at the hands of these monsters. But no matter how hard he shouted or banged his fists against the darkness's thorax, he couldn't stop the darkness as it crawled forward and bent low, sinking her fangs into the open wounds of the white tree.

With a horrible crack, the bright tree began to dim and turn grey as the darkness drained away his life. Withering, he collapsed with a tremendous groan, decaying in seconds. Then the darkness turned to the second tree, and it too died, rotting into splinters as it sank into the earth. As she drank, the darkness swelled and her form changed, but still she thirsted.

And all the while, the man laughed madly.

The moment the golden tree died, he and the darkness fled, running as fast they could. As they did, the land around Callum collapsed, and he fell through a black void, arms flailing helplessly until he landed face-first on a floor of polished stone. Callum groaned as he pushed himself to his feet, rubbing his forehead.

He was in a throne room. Massive pillars stretched upwards from the floor to the roof, framed with banners of gold and silver. Through windows of silver glass, Callum saw the world was shrouded in a night with no stars. All light came from floating lanterns, blazing with fire.

Callum was surrounded on all sides by people. Wait, no. That was wrong. These weren't people. They looked very similar but radiated a kind of power beyond mankind's potential. Some has pointed ears like the elves, others were physically identical to a human. Two, in particular, stood out, however.

One was a large, powerful man, with a short grey beard and hair as white as the clouds. Callum was struck by how much he resembled the evil who had destroyed the two trees. His eyes were a silver that shone like lightning but they were softer and kinder than those of the dark one. It was he who was seated upon the throne, and upon his head was a crown of silver metal, forged to resembled the raging winds. A mighty eagle was carved into the crown's exact center, wings spread across his brow.

The other looked more like an elf than the one seated upon the throne, with green skin and horns like seashells. His beard was dripping wet and hung in waves like seaweed. About his body was robes of icy blue and golden sand, adorned with chains of seashells. In his hand was an iron trident, and across his back dwelt a blue sea dragon. Callum was sure he knew who this was. Ulmo, Lord of Waters, the Dweller of the Deep. If this truly was the elven god of water, then did that mean… was Callum in the presence of the Valar, the gods of the elves?

Speaking of elves, a Sunfire elf was standing before them, tall and brooding. His broad, fiery red horns curved backward, like a sweeping flame through his equally fiery hair. His dark skin was adorned with an orange and white tunic, over which was plate armor of the finest craft. A blade was safely tucked away in a scabbard at his hip. Upon his face was intricate markings, straight lines running from his forehead to the bridge of his nose then his chin, flanked by two rays that curved around his eyes, both a burning yellow. His head was held high and he glanced at the Valar with wary suspicion.

One of the Valar stepped forward. She was a tall, beautiful woman, wearing a green, wooden crown on her head that must have been grown instead of carved, her robes that same shade as the forest. She spoke, but Callum could hear nothing. He didn't need to, however, to see she was imploring the Sunfire elf for something. Her eyes were desperate and begging, pleading with this man for some kind of boon. For a moment, Callum saw something noble in the eyes of the Sunfire elf, accompanied by a dull, sickly whispering. But then he sneered and turned his back to her, glaring upon the other Valar with eyes of dark fury and scornful pride.

As he left the hall, however, another Sunfire elf came upon them, bowing low before his brethren. In his hands was a crown that resembled golden fire, the middle splitting into two mighty horns like those of a dragon. The newcomer was breathless as he spoke, saying something that caused the proud Sunfire elf's sneer to transform into an expression of horror and shock. Clenching his fists tight, the Sunfire elf took deep breaths, gritting his teeth together before letting loose a mighty yell as he drew his burning hot blade - the first words Callum had heard in this entire dream.

"MELKOR! I, Fëanor, name you Morgoth! Black enemy of all! By my name, I swear that I, my sons, nor their sons, shall not rest until the Silmarils have been reclaimed and my father avenged!"

When it melted away again, Callum found himself in a dark cavern filled with black pools. The man who had destroyed the two trees was standing before them, hands outstretched as he whispered ancient incantations in a dark tongue. Then the pools stirred and bubbled as a clawed hand emerged from it, followed by a snarling creature which seemed to be a mix of man and wolf, with eyes a burning red. The creature talked toward its master, who stroked its head as more crawled out of the pools.

Then it was all gone, disappearing in a cloud of black dust. Now, all Callum saw was a city turned into a battlefield. Dark Sunfire and seaweed green Oceanfrost elves battled one another and hordes of dark creatures - the Grimm, monstrous parodies of life. Somewhere a fire started, and the city began to burn while the Grimm descended in droves. Oceanfrost elves, men, women, children, the infirm, all screamed in fear and terror, pleading for deliverance. The Sunfire elves fled in boats across the ocean, leaving their wounded and Oceandeep kin to fend for themselves. At the brow of the mightest ship was Fëanor, proud and tall still, blood upon his sunforged blade and his hands.

Now Callum was with a vast caravan of humans, marching west across green fields and fresh woodland. There were old men carrying sleeping grandchildren on their backs, proud men and women guarding the sides with wooden spears and stone axes. In wagons pulled by horses were sat pregnant women, sleeping infants, wary fathers, and dying grandparents.

Suddenly, there came a roar and feral screech, then a pack of beowolves swarmed towards them, a massive Nevermore flying overhead. The people began to scream while those with weapons gritted their teeth and prepared for battle.

The Nevermore screeched and swooped down to attack, only for a bolt of green light to slam into it from the side. It screeched in pain as he fell to the earth, trying to regain its footing. It never did, as a stone spike shot up from the earth and impaled it through the chest.

Callum turned around to see a dark haired man with bronzed skin man holding a staff topped by a green orb. A grim expression was on his face as he moved his staff again, drawing a rune in the air with the green orb. Then he struck it with his hand, sending out a blast of green light while silently moving his lips, and vines sprang upwards, entangling the pack of beowolves in their thorny brambles. The Grimm howled and whined as they disintegrated into ashes, drifting away like dust in the wind. By his side was a blonde, pale woman with a purple jewel set in her necklace, her eyes a light green. The two scanned the distant horizon, hands glowing with the energy of the orbs that vanished as both returned to the front of the caravan.

In time, the humans came upon a group of elves, all of whom had skin like the midnight sky, small dots glowing across their skin like stars. They observed the humans with disdainful eyes, whispering amongst themselves.

The man and woman came forward, hands clasped together. Their eyes met briefly, then both bowed humbly, beseeching the elves.

One by one, the Startouch elves turned their backs to the humans, abandoning them to the wastes. All save one. He remained while all the others left, the last hope for the children of man.

Three glowing diamonds were under his eyes, which sparkled gold in the night.

He smiled and extended his open hand towards them, a small flame sparking into existence in his palm. The spouses stared in wonder and raised their own hands, clasping the elf's.

Then it all melted away, to the Startouch elf and the man with the green stone grimly facing the latter's wife. But she was no longer human. Her skin was the same white as the bones of Grimm and her veins a burning black, a dark jewel in her forehead. Her teeth were gritted in rage as her eyes shone with dark energy, a ball of fire building in her hand as she raised her staff, creating a vast storm of purple clouds. Through it all, Callum heard a little girl's desperate voice - "Mommy?"

And all hell broke loose.

It was chaos as Callum saw scenes of bloodshed between men and elves, elves and dwarves, elves screaming and crying out in pain as their bodies twisted into something unnatural while animals howled within the bowels of the earth, orcs rampaging across the land, winged beasts made of fire laying waste to cities, dragons dueling in the sky, Grimm attacking whatever they found randomly as silver warriors of light fought them off, and sitting on a black thone, watching it all, was the man who had helped destroy the two trees of light. An iron crown was upon his head, the three shining jewels embedded in it like a beacon of light strangled in darkness, chin resting in his hand and a cruel smile across his lips.

Beside him was another man, otherworldly handsome with golden locks and bright blue eyes, but those eyes were as greedy and proud as his master's. On the other side of the throne was a snarling wolvish creature, far bigger than even a banther. Behind the throne were a vast array of characters, a wingless dragon, a large, demonic figure in black armor, a woman clothed in shadows, and orcs, thousands of them, lead by an albino male of their kind with a twisted grin.

Then one of the jewels disappeared from the crown and its bearer twitched, hand moving to the side while a small cut appeared on his cheek. Another jewel vanished, and the Dark Lord growled, rising from his throne. A hammer was now clutched in his hand, multiple sharp and jagged points protruding from the head. As the last jewel vanished, the throne room and the army did as well, leaving only Callum and the Dark Lord hatefully glaring into him, thudding towards him as his hammer was raised high above his head.

"The Silmarils," he hissed, "give them to me. I, Melkor, Supreme Lord of All, Master of Fate, demand what it is rightfully mine! I shall destroy you and all your kin! With my eyes shall you watch them die and my ears shall you hear them scream if you defy! Now return to me the Silmarils!"

Then his hammer came crashing down upon Callum, but as he flinched, something happened. Something completely new, a part of his dream which was unfamiliar to him.

Before the hammer smote him from the earth, there was a flash of white moonlight and two blades were raised upwards, parrying the blow. Then came a light of burning yellow, then one of soothing red, then a shadow, then so many lights that Callum couldn't count them all. But they wouldn't be able to do it alone, Callum could see that. Without hesitation, he sprang forward, raising his hand to the moonlight. They turned, about to reveal their face -

And Callum woke up to find two silver eyes towering over him.

"Good morning, prince Callum!" said a bubbly, dark red-haired girl.

Callum groaned as he rubbed his eyes of sleep crusties. "Ruby, what have I said about waking me this early in the morning?"

"That you would make me spar against Soren and kick his butt?" Ruby said, grinning. Callum rolled his eyes, not capable of hiding the smile on his face.

"No, I said I'd have Soren kick yours," Callum corrected as he sat up. Ruby shrugged. Callum suddenly noticed she was already dressed in her personalized red and black armor. He sighed, amused.

"Judging from what you're wearing, I assume it's your turn to train me today?" he asked, shoulders slumped.

Ruby nodded, hands clasped in front of her expectantly. "Yup! Sarge is going to be overseeing us both today instead of Soren, provided he doesn't go after Grif for slacking on the job again." Callum rolled his eyes, stretching his arms before pushing the blanket off. Then he realized something.

"Where's Ezran and Bait?"

"Prince Ezran?" Ruby said, brightening. "Oh, he got up early. Probably making havoc in the kitchen again."

"Ren's probably already put a stop to that," Callum mused.

"Bet you one bag of gold coins Ezran takes at least seven sweet tarts this time."

"That's not a bet I'm going to take, Ruby."

"Suit yourself," the girl said cheerfully, before heading to the door. She paused only to add one last thing. "I'll you some time to get dressed, Your Highness. I'll be in the courtyard when you're ready. Oh! One more thing. Emissaries from Moria will be here today, and King Harrow wants you looking your best." And with that, she was gone, gently closing the door behind her.

Callum was thankful to have someone like Ruby as his friend, but now, left alone with his thoughts, they turned to something else.

Those flashes of light that had stood between him and the Enemy's hammer. That had never happened before. Usually, it ended with his being crushed under the hammer. But not this time.

So who were they? Callum only knew one thing about them, and it was that they had been willing to stand alongside him against Morgoth, the legendary elven god of evil. But, somehow, Callum felt like they needed him. Why? What could he possibly have to offer? "Someone to use as a meat shield perhaps," he chuckled.

To keep himself occupied, he opened his sketchbook and began tracing lines with graphite, with no real purpose in mind. All the while, he could only think about how close he had come to see the faces of his rescuers. That moment replayed over and over in his head, followed by his grabbing onto the hilt of their swords. Maybe his strength alongside theirs would have been enough to hold back Melkor's blow…

Callum chuckled grimly to himself. As if he could hope to hold back the power of a fallen Vala.

Then he noticed just what he had been sketching.

It was the outline of a face, framed by white hair. The chin was lean and contrasted with a set of high cheekbones. He already had the beginnings of a nose but something was missing. Crucial details which would complete the picture, like their eyes, mouth, and ears. Damn it, why couldn't he at least remember those?

Right. Because he hadn't seen their face. Hopefully, when he had that dream tonight, he would.

Yawning, Callum stretched and threw off the quilt, planting his feet on the floor. Wiggling his toes, he set about getting dressed. A dark blue jacket over a purple undershirt, black belt tucking the undershirt into place, black pants with purple accents, brown boots, and then a pair of brown fingerless gloves snugly pulled over his hands. That done, he wrapped a red scarf around his neck, before slinging a satchel over his shoulder. Once his sketchbook and pencil were stuffed inside it, Callum grinned, ready to start the day.

The moment he stepped outside his room, he almost jumped out of his skin when somebody quickly tapped him on the shoulder. He turned sharply to find a tiny girl with bright green eyes and brown hair, one half dyed pink, grinning up at him. There was a smudge of ice cream at the corner of her mouth, and a few vanilla stains on her pink shirt and tunic. Callum took a moment to catch his breath before glaring at his adopted cousin.

"Neo!" he said sharply, "How many times do I have to tell you? You shouldn't have ice cream for breakfast!"

Neo just shrugged her shoulders, crossing her arms across her chest with an unrepentant smirk. Callum rolled his eyes, sighing.

"I need to ask, have you seen Ezran anywhere? Ruby said he got up early."

Neo responded by raising her hands, using sign language. Oh, he's okay. I helped him swipe ten jelly tarts from Ren.

"Of course you did," Callum answered, rolling his eyes. "So where's Ezran now?"

Hiding from Ren.

Callum took his turn to fold his arms across his chest, displeased. "That's not an answer."

Neo shrugged her shoulders playfully. Fine, I'll tell you where he's gone. He's in a secret hiding place.

Callum groaned, pinching the bridge of his nose as he squeezed his eyes shut. If anyone could make his patience wear thin, it was Neo. And she knew it.

Neo began signing again the moment her cousin opened his eyes, a knowing look in hers. Look, don't worry about Ezran, he'll be fine. Right now, let's worry about you. Did you have that weird dream again?

Callum paused, then sighed, nodding. "Yup. Same dream."

Anything different happen?

"This time? Yes."

Neo's eyes widened, then she grinned excitedly, hands giddily waving about as she signed. Tell me what happened! Tell me tell me tell me -

"Whoa, slow down!" Callum held up his hands, and Neo stopped moving hers. She bit her lower lip, hands clasped eagerly together.

"First, let's find somewhere more private where we can talk, okay?"

Nodding briefly, Neo then grabbed Callum's hand and practically dragged him down the winding halls of the castle. Callum quickly managed to find his step alongside his energetic cousin, firmly tugging on her hand to make her slow down. The green-eyed midget almost tripped over herself in the process, one leg hanging briefly in mid-air before coming back to the ground.

"Neo, we can talk in the library again, okay? No need to rush things." Callum had been trying to get that through her head for years now, ever since she had hit puberty.

She turned to him, making puppy eyes as her bottom lip quivered dramatically. Callum couldn't help smirking, amused. "But first, I need to get some breakfast. Wouldn't you agree?"

Mother always says that breakfast is the most important meal of the day, Neo signed, a resigned look in her eyes.

"Right. So, I'll go to the kitchens, get myself something to eat, then we can talk, okay?"

Neo grinned again, nodding. Sounds good. Get yourself a hearty breakfast, Callum, and if you see Simmons, tell him Grif messed up the stables again.

"Oh, Grif messed up the stables? I thought Sarge was going to let him have it for slacking off again."

When Neo blinked awkwardly, Callum chuckled and patted her on the shoulder. "Don't worry, your secret's safe with me. Just remember, next time you plan a prank, don't leave out the small details. Take it from a master."

Neo's face went blank, then she covered her mouth with her hands, straining not to burst out laughing. Which was easy, given she was a mute - something that only made Callum burst out laughing instead.

"Okay, I guess I'm overplaying my talents, but come on, I am pretty good when it comes to jokes."

Neo stopped her pretend laughter to look back up at her cousin, nodding her head before raising her hands again. True, true. Anyways, as you said, you need some breakfast first. After all, the master wouldn't be able to come up with ingenious plots on an empty stomach.

Callum snickered again, matching Neo's mirthful expression. "Thanks. Now, if you will excuse me, I'm thinking of getting some eggs and sausages. See you later!"

…

"Keep your guard up, Rayla!"

"I am, Runaan!" Rayla grunted as she ducked under another swing of Runaan's blades, before swinging her own at his legs. Runaan jumped over the attempt, somersaulting over her and landing gracefully, before twirling around to bring his blade in a disabling strike aimed at her shoulder. Rayla kicked back with her foot, propelling herself across the white marble, avoiding the blow and putting distance between them.

Runaan regarded her intently, blades held together at his sides, waiting. Even if they were using training swords, Rayla knew from experience the blunted edges left a mark.

And she really couldn't afford to let Runaan down, not at a time like this.

Without a moment's notice Rayla suddenly charged forward, blades held out behind her before she kicked herself into the air and swung them downward in an arc, clashing against Runaan's blades as he crossed them together before pushing her back and going on the attack himself. They danced and swerved around each other, weaving in and out of their opponents' reach in practiced combat they both knew very well.

"You're better than that, Rayla," said one of their observers, "give that hunk another sweep of the leg!"

"Dringol, you're supposed to be on my side!" Runaan yelled at his betrothed.

He just grinned, fingering the pendant around his neck while eyeing the two combatants. By this point, they were exhausted but didn't let it show, maintaining their grip on the hilts of their swords while circling each other. Rayla smirked, glancing at Runaan's ankles. And with that, she did something completely unexpected.

She first flicked her blades into hook form then made a feint at sweeping the leg then swung her left leg upwards, knocking it into the side of Runaan's body. The older elf was caught off guard, distracted by Dringol's laughter. He stumbled backward, leaving himself exposed to a sharp headbutt to the chest.

Rayla stood triumphantly over her fallen mentor, smirking. "I'd say that's game."

Runaan steadily got to his feet, glaring not at Rayla but as his fiancee. Well, he glared at her next anyway. "We will talk later," he said, then he paused, glancing behind her and smirking. "But first, you have a guest."

Rayla turned around, then immediately blushed when she found herself staring into the sea blue eyes of a grinning Sunfire elf. Her heart started hammering in her chest and her mouth went dry. Instantly, she turned away from him.

"How long has he been standing there?" Rayla asked Runaan quietly.

"Long enough," Runaan answered, before giving her a light push. Rayla bit her lip to prevent herself some squeaking. She couldn't look stupid in front of Adamah Tavros, of all people.

Adamah Tavros. By Tilion, Rayla felt her heart flutter around him. The tall, dark and handsome Sunfire elf who had, for some inexplicable reason, taken an interest in her. And he was right there. His golden face paint started at the chin and branched upwards to his eyes, like the horns of a bull. Painted across his breastplate was his personal emblem, a wilting rose. Lean but muscular, Adamah was slouching against a white marble wall, hand resting on the hilt of his sheathed blade like a war hero returned from vanquishing the forces of evil, his auburn hair windswept backward in spikes, seeming to flow perfectly with the horns sprouting from his forehead. His face was strong and proud, a warm smile spreading across it as she approached.

"I must say, that was quite the performance, Rayla," he said smoothly. "You fought masterfully."

"Ah, it was nothing," Rayla answered, brushing a braid behind her ear. "I'm sure Runaan was going easy on me."

Adamah scoffed, ears twitching. "You flatter yourself, my love," he told her. Then he shrugged the satchel off his shoulder and into his hand, offering it to her. "I brought a gift for you."

"Oh, a rucksack, eh? You didn't have to," Rayla teased, taking the pack from him with no trouble. Adamah just laughed merrily, then gestured for her to open it. Rayla did so, then she gasped. She reached in and carefully picked up a bouquet of red roses tied together by a ribbon held in place by a pendant, engraved with three jewels.

"They're beautiful," Rayla said. Then she winced, a sharp pain shooting up through her thumb.

"What's wrong?" Adamah asked suddenly, furrowing his brow.

"Nicked my thumb on a thorn," Rayla murmured. She drew it away to find a thin trail of blood gently seeping out of her skin. It wasn't that deep a cut, thankfully, but it still hurt.

"Let me bandage that for you," Adamah said, taking her hand, "and you should really be more careful around roses, my love." Rayla's heart skipped a beat again before she pulled herself together.

"No, no, it's okay," she said, tugging her hand back. "I'm more interested in why you put Fëanor's sigil on the pendant." Rayla finished off with a smirk.

Adamah smirked shamelessly. "It's to celebrate," he said. "I'm close to finding one of the Silmarils."

Rayla was speechless. "You're… you're joking," she finally said.

Adamah shook his head. "When he stormed the Brotherhood's camp, some of my men found a map in Quenya. It's being translated, but one part of the inscriptions refers to a Silmaril."

"Seriously?!" she replied, stunned. "Aren't the Silmarils supposed to have been lost in the ocean?"

"Not all of them, if this map is to be believed," Adamah answered.

"I can't believe it," Rayla said breathlessly, placing a hand on her head. "So, do you know where the Silmaril is?"

Adamah shook his head, sighing. "Not yet, but once the map is fully deciphered, the White Fang will be the first elves in centuries to gaze upon a Silmaril - and I'd like you to be there as well."

Rayla's eyes widened. "You… you want me to help you retrieve a Silmaril?"

"No. I need you to help me reclaim a Silmaril. I need you by my side when I grasp it in my hands and the Oath of Fëanor is fulfilled at last."

Rayla's heart was skipping a beat like a pebble skipping across a pond. Her head was swimming with images of her and Adamah clasping a shining white jewel in their hands, together.

"I need your answer soon," Adamah said, interrupting her thoughts, "because I expect the map to be deciphered by the end of the week, at which point we will leave immediately."

The end of the… oh.

Taking a deep breath, Rayla handed the bouquet back to Adamah, sadly looking him in the eye. It hurt to see his confusion as he took the roses from her. "I'm sorry, but I have to say no."

"What?" Adamah looked so wounded at that moment, Rayla just wanted to wrap her arms around him. "Why?"

"I'm going to Katolis," she said softly, "in about a week."

Adamah furrowed his brow, thinking before a twinkle passed over his eyes. "You're going to kill King Harrow."

"Yea-" Before Rayla could continue, Adamah had put both hands on her shoulders and drew her into a kiss. It was quick and fiery, Adamah leaning right in and pressing himself against her while Rayla did nothing except stare at his closed eyelids. When he pulled back, there was a smug grin on his face.

"Once you take vengeance for what the humans did, you'll be a hero!" He declared.

"Not so loud, Adamah!" Rayla said, bringing up her finger to his lips. "Runaan would kill me if the humans somehow found out before we got to Katolis."

Adamah snorted. "If anyone leaked this to them, it would either be Moria or the Faunus." He scornfully emphasized the last word. Then he brightened. "But let's not dwell on that. Your very first mission as an assassin, and to kill the tyrant of Katolis. The same bastard who murdered the king of the dragons."

"I beg your pardon?" Rayla's heart skipped a beat when she heard Runaan's voice behind her. Turning around, her worst fears were confirmed, as glaring at both of them.

"Runaan!" Rayla said, still blushing furiously from that unexpected kiss. "I didn't know you could hear us!"

"I've also been watching you," he remarked dryly. "Very. Intently."

Rayla wanted to die so badly right now.

"Runaan," Adamah said, straightening, "nice to see you again. I was just-"

"I overheard your conversation about the Silmaril," Runaan interrupted. "So you've found one?"

Adamah hesitated before sighing. "Not yet, but this map-"

"Adamah," Runaan said, putting a hand on the Sunfire elf's shoulder, "I've told you this several times. Let. It. Go. The Oath doesn't have to control you like it did Fëanor and his sons."

For a moment, Adamah seemed thoughtful, before suddenly grunting as he brushed Runaan's hand off his shoulder. "The Oath was sworn by the names of Fëanor, his sons and their sons. I am bound to fulfill it and reclaim what is mine."

"Stubbornness wasn't a virtue Fëanor should have indulged, but that isn't what I am here to speak with you about," Runaan replied. "You said you wanted Rayla to come with you, correct?"

Adamah nodded, sighing. "But she can't, as she has to kill the king of Katolis first."

Rayla involuntarily shivers at the thought. "Let's change the subject," she said hastily, "what have you been doing lately? Weren't you out leading the White Fang against the Brotherhood?"

"Yes, actually. Rayla, you should have seen it, the battle was incredible! We caught the animals completely off guard and surrounded them! Not one escaped from our justice!" Adamah spoke like an excited child, ecstatic.

"Did you take many casualties?" Runaan asks pointedly.

Adamah's excitement disappeared, replaced with a troubled expression, and shook his head slightly. "Not many. About ten men were killed in the attack and two dozen wounded."

"Hmm…" Runaan narrows his eyes at Adamah, clearly deep in thought. "And as for the Brotherhood?"

"A complete rout, with several dozen dead and captured," Adamah answers proudly. "They stood no chance."

"Are you certain you got all of them?" Runaan presses, "Did you capture or kill Blake?"

Adamah's proud exterior crumbled away quickly, replacing by scowling frustration. "No," he murmured through gritted teeth, "that feline wasn't there."

"As long as she is out there, the Brotherhood of Shadows will fight on," Runaan sighed. "And I won't be able to take part in another search, given my… other duties." He then coldly glared at Rayla. She glared right back at him, but only for a moment.

"However," Adamah said, "I did manage to capture some of her lieutenants."

Runaan turned away from Rayla, eyebrows raised in surprise. "Really? How many?"

"Three," Adamah says, his pride returning, "all of whom are being interrogated at this moment."

"I will inform the council," Runaan replies, before turning to Rayla. "Come, Rayla. We have more practice ahead of us."

Just as they were ready to resume, however, Adamah spoke up suddenly.

"Wait!" he said. Both Moonshadow elves turned back to him. He cleared his throat awkwardly before continuing. "Rayla, would you come with me?"

"Oh?" Runaan asks, raising an eyebrow. "Why?

"I haven't seen her in weeks," Adamah answers. "Can't I spend some time alone with my beloved?" Runaan's deadpan expression spoke volumes about what he thought of that.

"Actually," Rayla interjected, "could I go, Runaan? I've been training for about three hours already."

"I suppose you could go, Rayla," Runaan says, turning to her, "but I expect that tomorrow, you will be up early for practice. And you must back by nightfall."

Rayla perks up, thanking him with a smile.

"But," Runaan continued, "I expect you to… behave yourself. You're a young girl and I know this can be a difficult time, but you're also a Moonshadow elf and I expect your discipline to hold."

Rayla blushed, embarrassed. "Runaan!" Why'd he have to bring that up?!

He responded by crossing his arms across his chest. He then turned to Adamah. "The same goes for you. Nothing inappropriate." The Sunfire elf nodded nonchalantly.

"Can we just go now?" Rayla knew how hopeless it was to hide her embarrassment, but still, having Runaan give her that kind of talk and right now, in front of her boyfriend...

"Very well," Runaan said, nodding his head. "But remember, be back by sundown."

"I will!"

Rayla gingerly skipped over to Adamah, taking his hand in hers.

A carriage painted in white was waiting for them, flanked by elven warriors in matching white armor astride mighty white stags, two of which were hitched up to the carriage. "After you, my lady," Adamah said, opening the door. Rayla's cheeks turned a soft red as she climbed inside the carriage. She had been raised as an assassin her whole life, so to be treated like royalty by someone descended from actual royalty was… breathtaking and just a wee bit awkward. Once she was inside, Adamah followed, taking a seat next to her.

Throughout the entire ride, the two made ideal conversation. But Rayla couldn't help but notice how Adamah continued to hold onto the bouquet of roses tightly, heedless of the thorns poking into his hand. When an appropriate break came in the conversation, she took her chance. "You can let go of those roses," she said softly.

Adamah sighed, then looked into her eyes sympathetically. "I'm sorry, it's just…" As he trailed off, Rayla sighed, knowing full well what excuse he was going to use. "I get so angry sometimes."

There it was. The same damned excuse every single time. "I get angry sometimes." Like that somehow justified self-harming.

"Adamah, we've talked about this," Rayla said, groaning.

"I know, I know, but-"

Rayla cut him off instantly. "No buts, Adamah." To further her point, she glared at him, narrowing her eyes.

Adamah stared right back, dumbfounded. Then he laughed heartily, squeezing Rayla's hand so tightly that she thought it would break. "You know, I didn't think it was possible, but I'm falling even deeper in love with you."

Rayla's face was so red it could pass for a tomato. "Shut up," she replied.

Adamah's triumphant smirk was almost irresistible. Rayla rolled her eyes, looking outside the window.

They'd reached Tilion Square now, in the center of which was a statue of Fingolfin with proud, hard yet warm eyes watching over the elven folk as they went about their business. The square was crowded with men, women, and children, who parted for the group and bowed. Even after all these years and everything that had happened, the House of Fëanor was still respected by many - depending on the branch, of course.

But Rayla didn't dwell on that. No, her eyes were drawn to the Faunus in cages near on the edge of the square, guarded by Oceanfrost elves. Three banners were proudly displayed above them, decorated with snowflake emblems. The Oceanfrost elves glared at the carriage as it passed, and while Rayla couldn't be sure they saw her, she still returned their gaze with one just as intense.

"Schneefalls," she muttered.

"What?" Adamah spoke up, then followed her gaze. "Oh."

"I can't believe Jacq Schneefall is allowed to get away with… that," Rayla said, disgusted not only at the sight of caged Faunus, but elven society as a whole in that moment.

"I know, you've told me several times," Adamah pointed out, sighing.

"And I'll keep doing it until someone puts end an to his slave trading," Rayla replied, her free hand curling into a fist, "Xadia is supposed to be better than Númenor, not following in its example."

"Agreed," Adamah told her, "but Rayla, how do you know some of those Faunus aren't members of the Brotherhood?"

"Just because they fight for the Brotherhood doesn't mean they should be sentenced to slavery."

Adamah sighed, tenderly stroking Rayla's hand with his thumb. "I understand how you feel. I did too once before I saw what the Brotherhood is capable of. But Rayla, you know how powerful Jacques Schneefall is. His influence-"

"I know, I know," Rayla muttered, "I just wish I could do something to help them."

Adamah scoffed. "Help a Faunus? Rayla, they are the spawn of Morgoth, same as the orcs and Balrogs. You know as well as I do that they cannot be trusted."

Rayla wanted to tell him he was wrong, she really did… but she knew what Morgoth had done to create the Faunus and orcs, his loyal servants in the Wars of Wrath. Stories of Faunus descending onto towns and devouring the inhabitants had kept her up at night as a child. Even though she'd long since grown past that, the graphic details still made her shudder every time she recalled them.

After they left the square, the ride to the gates wasn't as long as it felt to Rayla. The carriage passed through with little difficulty, and then they came to a stop.

"We're here."

The White Fang's camp was outside the walls of New Gondolin, probably thanks to the Schneefalls. A collection of tents and wagons, it was easy to spot thanks to the white banners marked with the snarling face of a red dragon.

"So are we going to hang out with your warband again? I already know most of their names." Rayla added a playful smirk at the end, hoping it would get some kind of reaction from her beloved.

"Oh, they've been expecting you," Adamah answered with a smirk of his own, "But first, I need to show you our prisoners. Trust me when I say these ones are particularly interesting."

Rayla froze as her heart stopped cold. "Could you repeat that?"

Adamah cleared his throat before he answered her. "I know that seems a strange request but these Faunus... unless I'm mistaken, they're worshippers of the Enemy."

Breath catching in her throat, Rayla wasn't sure how many more surprises she could take today. "Are… are you sure of that?"

Adamah nodded grimly. "After we captured them, I ordered my men to do a thorough search of their belongings. One of them uncovered messages written in Black Speech. Several. We've had a little trouble translating it, but from what we've read so far, they're old Númenorian hymns written by Sauron."

"Iluvatar save us," Rayla muttered. There wasn't an elf alive who didn't feel dread whenever Sauron's name was mentioned. Númenor's legacy would be forever tainted because of him, especially in Xadia.

"May He indeed," Adamah said in answer. "I was just as stunned as you were when I found those hymns. But, these are Faunus and you already know what they're like."

"No, not really," Rayla replied, "given I've never actually met one."

"Well, there's a first time for everything. How about you change that by meeting three of Blake Belladonna's followers?"

"Alright. I don't see the harm."

Walking through the camp, Rayla felt strangely…elated. The White Fang was Adamah Tavros's personal followers, a collection of elves from all the clans save the Oceanfrost. Truth be told, she considered them all her friends. She'd sing with them, drank with them, danced with them - well, mainly Adamah. Speaking on songs, she could hear a few songs now: old tunes of Fingolfin laying siege to Morgoth's fortress, the arrival of the elves in Xadia, the sacking of Gondolin, the first time night fell, but sadly, not her favorite, of fair Lúthien and her undying love for… a human.

Even after all these centuries of war with the humans, the tale of the Moonshadow maiden and Beren was still one of the most celebrated songs in all Xadia. No amount of wrongs at the hands of men could make the elves and dragons forsake the memory of two lovers who defied Morgoth himself. That the union had led to the birth of Elrond the Great, one of the mightest and wisest of all Elven leaders, probably had something to do with it.

But, no matter how hard she tried, she never could make it a permanent fixture of the White Fang. A shame, as Rayla loved to hear about Huan's battle against Carcharoth and Sauron. Those was her favorite parts.

When she spotted a large Earthblood elf with two scars across the bridge of his nose walking towards them, Rayla smiled and waved. The Earthblood elf paused in front of them. "Sir Tavros," he said a low voice, saluting. Then he turned to Rayla, and bowed slightly, smiling. "Lady Rayla."

'Lady Rayla.' She rolled her eyes at that, having grown used to being addressed as nobility. Her parents were disgraced Dragonguard, she didn't deserve to be treated like she was someone special. But Adamah insisted on it, bless his soul.

"Sargent Quartz," Adamah said, "anything to report?"

"The prisoners are getting a bit restless."

"I would expect as much," Adamah answered, shaking his head. "What of the monkey?"

"He's started singing," Quartz replied.

"Seriously?" Rayla interjected. "One of your captives has started singing?"

"He's a Faunus, they're all crazy," Adamah said dismissively. Rayla didn't exactly buy that, but then again, she'd never spoken with a Faunus - yet, anyway.

"Sir, if I may ask," Quartz began, "why have you brought Rayla here?"

"She'll be joining us soon," Adamah said before Rayla could so much as open her mouth. When she did, she made her feelings very clear.

"Excuse me?" she exclaimed. "I never said that. Ever."

"Well, I assumed you'd say yes," Adamah answered, bemused.

"Don't assume I'll say yes to a question you haven't asked me, Adamah! Especially when it comes to joining the White Fang!" Rayla snapped, folding her arms across her chest. The Sunfire elf was taken aback, surprise evident on his face.

Quartz coughed, breaking the tension. "Sir Adamah? The prisoners?"

Adamah let out a sigh of relief. "Yes, that would be prudent." He turned away from Rayla and began walking towards a tent, then stopped. When he spoke, he didn't even look at her. "Rayla, I'm sorry I didn't ask you first -"

"You should be!" Adamah was silenced instantly, recoiling in shame. He sighed, rubbing the back of his head before speaking again.

"Rayla, I am sorry I spoke out of turn, but… the war against the Brotherhood has been putting a strain on us all. I've lost good men because of them and finding new recruits haven't been as successful as I'd like. I understand if you don't want to join us, as you have others duties, but… could you at least forgive me?"

Something in his voice gave Rayla pause. It was almost like he was… pleading with her. Adamah never pleaded with anyone for anything.

Rayla sighed, smiling. "Of course I can," she said briefly giving him a tender hug.

Quartz escorted them, constantly scanning the environment for anything out of place. It was a habit Rayla had long since given up trying to break him out of. He was a soldier, and a good soldier was always on alert for any sign of danger - that's how he put it, anyway.

The prisoners were kept in a large, white tent, marked with the White Fang's emblem, a snarling red dragon head. Rayla didn't know what to expect of them. Blake Belladonna's top lieutenants in the Brotherhood of Shadows, supposed warriors without peer. Killers and vicious murderers who had slaughtered dragons and elves alike, according to the rumors.

Instead, what she found were teenagers, no older than her. There were three of them, tied to wooden pillars by their wrists and ankles. And one of them was indeed singing.

It was a boy with blond hair and a monkey's tail. His eyes were a deep blue except for his left, which was purple and almost completely shut by swelling muscle. His bottom lip was busted open, and one of his ears' singed. His abdomen and chest were bare, revealing a well-muscled body covered in bruises and jagged cuts. Yet he kept on singing in a deliberately broken melody about spaghetti and meatballs until he saw Adamah enter.

"Back for more, are we?" The cockiness of his voice practically dared Adamah to respond. Then he saw Rayla.

"Oh look, he brought his girlfriend." His gaze briefly went up and down her body, so Rayla made sure when he found her eyes he also found a glare promising a swift and merciless death if he so much as winked at her. Then Adamah stepped forward and grabbed him by the chin, forcing his gaze off her. The Faunus grunted, then he looked back to Rayla briefly - an act of defiance if she had ever seen one. One that was met with a sharp slap to the face.

"Keep your eyes off her," Adamah growled, releasing him. The Faunus spat out a glob of blood before he began laughing again.

"Oh wow, I was only joking when I said she was your girlfriend! Damn, didn't think you'd be jealous of someone just looking at her!" Then he turned to the other two teens.

"Velvet! Ilia! Straighten up, we need to look our best! Adamah's showing off the trophies to his girl!" Then he resumed laughing disconcertingly as if he was at a festival and not held captive while heavily injured.

"Sun, please just stop it," said one of the other Faunus, a girl with two large brown rabbit ears.

The monkey - Sun - paused, and turned to her with a solemn expression, then sighed. His eyes softened as he smiled at the rabbit girl.

"I'm just putting a show for you, Velvet," he said. "Something you can enjoy until Blake frees us."

Adamah scoffed before giving the boy another sharp slap to the face. Rayla winced when she saw a new bruise on his cheek. "If you think for even a moment you stand a chance of escaping the justice you all so richly deserve, your faith in Morgoth truly is misplaced."

All three Faunus started at the mention of Morgoth, as did Rayla. The monkey and rabbit were frightened and confused - but the last one, a girl with ginger haired that curled into a loop at her back, changed color instead, her skin turning a bright orange while her freckles became yellow. Rayla's eyes widened in surprise, unaware Faunus were capable of changing their very skin color.

Adamah smirked. "Oh yes, I know full well of where your true allegiance lies." He reached into the pocket of his tunic and withdrew a necklace. A black jewel hung from it which several barely readable words had been carved into, in a language Rayla didn't understand. It almost looked like-

"It's not often I find a message in Black Speech, especially one pledging eternal fealty to Morgoth," Adamah said with a dark scowl.

"This is orc shit," Sun spoke up instantly, "not one single Faunus I know would ever give their lives to that scum."

"Then you don't know them very well," Adamah retorted, "isn't that right… Ilia?"

All eyes turned to the color changing girl now. Her skin had become a fierce red and her freckles a sickly yellow, but she only glared at Adamah.

"We found this among her possession," he said, glaring right back at Ilia, "so am I correct in assuming you serve the Dark Lord?"

"You framed her," Sun spat out, "you're trying to frame her, aren't you? Make her into some kind of monster than sell her off to Jacques Schneefall."

"Be quiet!" Adamah snapped back. Then he turned to Ilia. "Tell us, lizard. Is Morgoth your true master?"

All eyes were on the girl now, waiting patiently with bated breath. "Yes," she answered quietly. If Rayla wasn't mistaken, there was a hint of shame in her voice.

Adamah opened his mouth to speak only for the rabbit girl to beat him to it. "How could…" Velvet began, her voice breaking, "how could you do this? Ilia, we're your friends, how could you betray us like this?"

"Because she's a Faunus," Adamah snapped, not pleased with having been interrupted. "Your kind were created by Morgoth, why should you not serve him with your heart and soul like the-"

"Degenerates we are." It was Sun who spoke up this time, and Rayla saw that his hands were shaking. "Oh, we've heard this same speech from a lot of different people in a lot of different ways. We're mutts, filth, less than animals, equals of the Grimm, our souls are black as Morgoth's heart. But don't think for even a moment we all serve that monster."

"You really think I'll believe one of you animals?" Adamah sneered. "Admit it. Deep within you, you know where your allegiance lies. To Morgoth."

"He's right," Ilia said scornfully. "The gods themselves have abandoned us. Why should we not serve the Giver of Freedom?"

"Damn him to the Void!" Sun barked with such vehemence that Rayla took a step back. "What'd that bastard ever do for us?! Uh? Use us as cannon fodder, meat shields, slaves in his forges, fed us to his Balrogs, then cast us out into the wilderness at the mercy of the entire world?!" There was a fire in his eyes, and it was aimed right at Ilia. "And you think by becoming his cultist, you'd gain… what? Tell me, what'd you hope to gain from him?"

"Freedom," Ilia replied, looking at the ground.

"There is no freedom in Morgoth's service," Rayla scoffed, shaking her head in disgust. "Only slavery and the destruction of every living thing."

"Well, at least I know she can talk," Sun mumbled, only to get another firm slap from Adamah. When he turned to her, Rayla glared, making her disapproval of this violence plain.

"We didn't ask to be made as parodies," Velvet broke in. Her head was hung low, her body limp, ears drooping, and tears falling from her eyes. "We didn't ask to have Morgoth's legacy over our heads. We just want to be treated as people, not animals."

"Oh shut up, Velvet," Ilia spat, "the Faunus never been treated with anything but hatred and scorn. It's all we've ever known. It was all my family knew and it killed my parents." When her eyes began to water as she finished, Rayla couldn't help but feel sympathy for her, even if she did worship Morgoth.

Then she smirked, suicidal confidence in her eyes despite her tears as she turned to Adamah. "But then again, I wouldn't expect anything but hate from a descendant of Fëanor. The loss of the Silmarils must gnaw at you."

Rayla's eyes widened and a hand shot to her gaping mouth. Sun and Velvet were just as shocked, staring in disbelief.

"What did you say?" Adamah spoke slowly and deliberately, hand resting upon the hilt of his blade.

"Even after all these years, no son of Fëanor has ever laid hands upon a Silmaril and lived, but the Oath demands you claim it," Ilia continued to speak definitely, venom lacing her words, "Fëanor's house has brought nothing but ruin and misery to all, through their greed, pride, and arrogance. They may condemn Morgoth and call him Black Enemy, but in truth, they are no better than him. Both thirst for the Silmarils, the only difference is Morgoth held them in his crown for time, while Fëanor's house has lost them forever."

In an instant, Adamah had drawn his sword and pressed the edge against Ilia's neck. It was glowing with intense heat, burning the girl's skin. Her face painfully contorted as her flesh sizzled, but she bit her lip, trying not to scream. Her eyes watered with fresh tears, and she squeezed them shut.

"Leave her alone!" Sun cried out, struggling against his bonds, "Back off, you orc shit, and pick on someone your own size! I'm not done with you yet, not by a longshot!" Beside him, Velvet was crying out for Adamah to stop, to leave Ilia alone. How these two could defend the girl when she was exposed as a worshipper of Morgoth, Rayla could only begin to understand.

Adamah ignored him, his face a mask of apathy but his eyes burning with hate. Then, slowly, he began to snarl, revealing teeth which reminded Rayla of a direwolf.

In a second, she was at his side, grabbing the wrist of his sword-hand and squeezing tightly. Adamah turned to her, stunned. Rayla met his intense gaze with its equal, frowning deeply. "Stop," she ordered. "This is torture, Adamah."

Adamah blinked, the hate leaving his face as it assumed a dull expression. Firmly, Rayla pulled his arm away, lifting the sword off Ilia's neck. Taking deep breaths, Adamah let her, then shrugged her hand away and sheathed his blade.

Adamah sighed, rubbing the back of his head and looking away from Rayla. "I'm sorry, I just-"

"Don't say it," Rayla said firmly, hands shaking, "just. Don't."

Nobody said anything, leaving Rayla to glare in cold fury at Adamah. He didn't even attempt to meet her gaze, looking at the ground and shuffling his feet awkwardly.

"I'd like some time alone with them," Rayla said, breaking the tension.

"Fine, but only a few minutes," Adamah said softly, still looking away from her.

"Give me twenty," Rayla replied. Adamah didn't say anything, answering her by exiting the tent, smacking the tent flaps as he passed.

Rayla sighed, unclenching her fists as she turned to Ilia, bending down to her eye level. The wound on her neck was already an angry yellow and red, but not too deep. It would leave a scar, however.

"I'm sorry for what my boyfriend did," she said, cupping Ilia's face to comfort the poor girl. "He can be a real jackass sometimes."

"Not the exact word I would use to describe him," grumbled Sun. Rayla looked at him with a raised eyebrow before turning back to Ilia. Her face was wet with tears, but her eyes betrayed a certain bitterness.

"I'll make sure she gets treatment," Rayla told them, before walking to a spot where she could face all three of them, "but first, you all need to eat something." Reaching into her pocket, Rayla pulled out three slices of bread wrapped in green leaves from Mirkwood.

The Faunus all perked the moment they set eyes on it. "Is that… lembas bread?" asked Velvet.

"Yup," Rayla said, holding out her hand so each teen could take a bite. First off was Ilia, who winced before hesitantly accepting it. As she chewed, her face brightened and she sighed, closing her eyes contently as she leaned against her post. Sun and Velvet had similar reactions, though much less pronounced than Ilia's.

"Wow," said Sun after he swallowed his mouthful, "I've heard stories about lembas beard but actually tasting some… that is good." He sighed, licking his lips as if trying to find any stray specks.

"I'll give you some more, but first, I have questions for you," Rayla said.

"If you want to know who we are, I'm Sun Wukong," the speaker gestured to himself, then the girl next to him, "this is my girlfriend, Velvet Scarlatina, and she -" he glared at the person in question "- is Ilia Amitola, or should I say, a dirty, stinking traitor."

Ilia didn't respond, just glumly leaned her head against the pole, staring off into nothing.

Rayla sighed, before gesturing to herself. "Rayla, and with proper introductions out of the way, first question… are you really members of the Brotherhood?"

"Actually, I'm the Emperor-in-Chief," Sun answered, only for his girlfriend to shoot him a dangerous glare which shut him up before she opened her mouth.

"Ignore him, but in case it wasn't obvious, yes, we are members of the Brotherhood. Didn't Adamah tell you that?"

"Yes, he said you three were the top lieutenants of Blake Belladonna. I was expecting warriors, not..." Rayla paused before gesturing to them, "you lot."

"Well, we kind of are," Velvet admitted, "though we aren't Blake's top lieutenants, not by a long shot. We're more like… uh… captains, you could say?"

"What do you mean 'you could say?' Did you lead warbands or something?"

"Hit the nail on the head," Sun mumbled. "Though we don't have 'warbands' -" he made air quotes with his fingers - "we have cells. You should know this already if your Adamah Tavros's girlfriend. Guy's been a thorn in our side for two years now."

"True," Rayla said with a smirk, "I've never met any members of the Brotherhood before."

"Really?" Velvet said.

"Yup. I've only heard stories, mainly from Adamah. He really doesn't like you."

"You can say that again," Sun remarked. "Given the chance, he'd sell every one of us into slavery and leave us to rot."

"I wouldn't let him," Rayla answered firmly. Not after seeing how he's made you suffer.

Sun studied her for a moment, then his eyes twinkled, and he nodded as if he had solved some great mystery.

"Oh, I get it now. I know why Adamah brought you here. He wanted to show us off. Because we're glorified captives," he declared, running his tongue along his upper teeth before wincing. Then he spat out a broken molar.

"Glorified… how?" Rayla asked, raising an eyebrow.

"We aren't just captains of the Brotherhood - we were some of its best warriors."

"Were?" Rayla said, turning back to Ilia.

"Given our current circumstances, it's likely none of us will ever see the light of day again," she replied.

"Stop," Sun growled, "with that orc shit about all hope being lost. It's not, there's always some light at the end of the tunnel or a horizon behind the storm clouds."

"Where'd you hear that?" asked Rayla.

"A book," he answered, then winced. "Gods, my ear still stings."

"You're probably gonna need to cut it off," Ilia told him.

"I don't recall asking you anything, traitor!"

"Shut it," Rayla ordered.

"Who put you in charge?"

"Ah, who put the trained Moonshadow elf assassin in charge of three chained up prisoners? Good question! And the answer is," she got right up in his face for dramatic effect while taking out her swords, "me."

Sun eyed the sword poised dangerously at his neck, then the girl holding it. "Fair enough."

"Right then," Rayla said briskly as she drew back, retracting her blades, "question number two. Blake Belladonna. She's the leader of the Brotherhood, correct? What's she like?"

"She's amazing," Ilia said longingly.

"Leave it to a traitor to spill the beans," Sun snapped. When he heard the telltale sound of Rayla drawing her sword again, he maimed locking his mouth shut.

"Guys, let me tell her," Velvet said, sighing, "she'll probably learn soon enough."

Sun gave his girlfriend a sympathetic glance, then nodded. Ilia seemed hesitant at first but did the same.

"Before I begin, I just want to make this clear. I'm not going to tell you everything. You can probably guess my reasons, but there's something else." Velvet paused, sparing a quick glance at Sun before she spoke again. "Will Sun get treatment for his injuries?"

"You don't need to ask."

Velvet smiled warmly and Rayla couldn't help returning it. Then she took a deep breath and began speaking. "Blake Belladonna is the most feared and revered warrior in the Brotherhood. Nobody knows who she is or where she came from. Some say she's the daughter of a Vala and a Faunus, others, the leader of a band of rogue Ainur that battled Morgoth himself. But one thing is certain: without her, we in the Brotherhood would all be dead. She's lead us to victory several times in the past and freed many Faunus from slavery."

"Okay, so she's this ultra badass figure, anything else I should know?"

"She'll probably break us out at some point," Sun interjected, before shrugging apologetically when the others, save Ilia, glared at him. "Just trying to be hopeful."

"How do I know you weren't lying to me about Blake?" Rayla inquired, leaning in close to Velvet.

The rabbit averted her gaze before she answered. "I… don't know…"

Rayla sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose. "Great, so you probably did," she remarked.

"Velvet never lies," spat Sun.

"Next question," said Rayla, standing up straight again and making a point of ignoring Sun. Her eyes narrowed before she continued. "How often does Adamah torture you?"

"Oh, I wouldn't call it torture, just a sadist enjoying himself in the only way he knows," snarked Sun, scowling. "Not to mention he really did a number on me."

"Adamah isn't a sadist," Rayla snapped. Then she sighed, arms dropping by her sides. At least, she thought he wasn't one. "I've never seen him do things like before, ever. He can get angry sometimes but he never went that far. Did he do this unprovoked, or did you tick him off?"

"The latter," Sun replied bitterly before he groaned in pain. "I'm not a betting man, but I'd say this is the first time you've actually seen what's he's capable of?"

"Yup." She didn't even try to hide her disgust at what Adamah had done, but she did hide her pain. That wasn't the Adamah she knew, he didn't do this… but she'd seen him burn a girl's neck simply for mocking him about the Silmarils. If he was capable of that, then it stood to reason he'd- oh who was she kidding, she'd seen him hit Sun several times. "So, you made him mad. Why?"

"For kicks," admitted Sun, blatantly lying.

"He was doing it for our sake," said Velvet, sighing, "He thought by making Adamah focus only on him, he'd leave me and Ilia alone."

"What makes you think that?" Rayla asked.

"Because I know my boyfriend better than anyone."

Sun didn't say anything, only stared at the ground. Rayla turned to Ilia, hand resting on her hip.

"Looks like he gave her the same idea."

Ilia didn't say anything. The emptiness of her eyes gave Rayla pause. "Or," she continued, "did you have something else in mind?"

"Ilia, why'd you say that to him?" Velvet asked, "About the Oath of Fëanor? He could have killed you!"

"Good," Ilia replied.

Everyone was taken aback by her answer, most of all her friends. The awkward silence which fell upon them was so thick, it could have passed for a fog.

"What?" Rayla said, stunned.

"I am tired," Ilia continued, forlorn, "of praying to gods who ignore our suffering. I am tired of fighting an unwinnable war. I'm tired of… I'm just tired."

"Why didn't you say anything?" said Velvet, "We're your friends, we'll listen. You shouldn't have to suffer alone. No one should."

"Was your friend," Sun cut in, "I don't fraternize with Morgoth's lap dogs."

"I've told you once already to shut it, so shut it," Rayla ordered harshly

"It's okay," Ilia whispered sadly, "I don't need to justify myself. It's like Adamah said; I'm a Faunus. Why shouldn't I serve the one who made us? He's the only one who ever gave a damn about us."

"Y'know," said Rayla slowly, "it's said that all things come from Ilúvatar, good or bad. So, in a way, Morgoth didn't make you. Ilúvatar did."

"Ilúvatar doesn't care about me. If he did, my parents would still be here."

Rayla sighed, rubbing the back of her head. This was going nowhere. "Alright, I think that's it for questions," she said, "it was nice meeting you all, and don't worry, I'll make sure Adamah stops" - she gestured to Sun's battered body - "that." Before she left, however, she at least kept her promise and gave each Faunus some more lembas beard.

When she pushed past the tent flap, Quartz was already there, waiting. "I heard everything," he said, "you shouldn't get so friendly with prisoners."

"Adamah's been torturing them," she replied, "I couldn't just stand by and watch."

Quartz didn't say anything in response, just narrowed his eyes - not threateningly, however.

She figured it out in a moment. "You knew," Rayla gasped, "and you didn't do anything to stop him?!"

"A soldier does only as he's told, Rayla. He doesn't question it, he simply does."

"A person doesn't tolerate another's suffering," she furiously retorted. "I expected better of you, Locus Quartz."

"You're an assassin, Rayla. You shouldn't care for the suffering of our enemies."

"I understand the value of life, which is why I can take it in the first place."

"You never have, though."

Rayla opened her mouth to speak, but instead, froze before slowly closing it again. The Valar damn it all, he was right. She was an assassin, it was her job to take lives. She couldn't do it lightly, that was something Runaan was very clear about, but she still had to.

But… if being an assassin meant letting someone, especially the person she loved, get away with torture… could she really live with herself?

"I'm going to find Adamah," she said, turning around, "Runaan will hear of this and so will the council."

Locus sighed but didn't say anything. As much as she hated to admit it, Rayla knew he had seen right through her. As she stomped off to give her boyfriend a long overdue talking to, her mind was abuzz with questions, one in particular at the forefront.

Did she want to be an assassin?