Disclaimer:  I do not own Lord of the Rings or any of the characters contained in the books they all belong to J.R.R. Tolkien and Tolkien enterprises. I do own Satura, Garret, Keldar and any other orignal charcters.

AN: This is an alternate universe. This takes place in the time after Aragorn's coronation and wedding but before Elrond departs for the Havens.  Also for the sake of the storyline Boromir lives. 

            Satura ducked underneath the swing of Keldar's staff, narrowly missing having her head knocked off.  She came up and locked her staff with her friend's. "I think it's a draw." Keldar said, lowering her staff. Satura nodded, panting slightly. "So, are you two done trying with trying to kill each other?" A baritone voice asked. Both women turned to look at the new comer.

            A tall male stood in the doorway.  His wavy, long dark brown hair stopped a little bit below the shoulder. His bright blue eyes twinkled with mischief, but there was also a great deal of wisdom and some sadness in them. "Yes, we're done, Garret." Keldar said, leaning on her staff.  "I'm glad.  I don't enjoy the idea that I might come down here one day and find my wife knocked out cold by her best friend. Especially, since I haven't even been married to her for two years." He said.

            Satura pushed a strand of honey-colored hair out of her eyes. "Especially when our anniversary is so near."    "So what do you two lovebirds plan on doing for the big night?" Keldar asked.   "Just being alone together." Satura replied, looking at her husband with emerald eyes.  Garret smiled and wrapped his arms around her, holding her gently against his body.

            Keldar shook her head and rolled her eyes, but she couldn't help smiling.  She studied the pair for a moment.  The facial features of both were fine and delicate; they were both quick of hand and graceful in their movements. Everything about them screamed elvish blood. But they were both missing one feature common to the Elvish people-the ears.  Despite the fact that both were three quarters elvish, the human quarter had enough of a hold on them to give them human ears.  Also, The woman thought, it probably didn't help that their parents were of mixed blood.  

            The woman shrugged. Who cared about their parentage?  What mattered to her were the people they were. Both of them were the most generous and kindest people she met.  Then again, considering what she was anyone who didn't attack her on sight was considered generous. Not for the first time, she thanked her gods that she had found Satura and Garret, friends who could accept her.   Her hand strayed to one of the chains around her neck and she smiled.  Not only friends, Keldar thought, but someone I can love as well.  The chain held a small engagement medallion, but she didn't except to get married anytime soon. Her fiancé and her had to many things to work out from their pasts first before they could wed. The engagement then was more of a promise then anything else.

            "Keldar has left us, I think."  A voice joked. The woman shook her head and ran a finger through her curly, light brown hair, showing off a nasty cut on her forearm.  Satura frowned at the wound.  She wished people would leave her Druid friend alone.   Things had always been hard for Keldar, but they had gotten even worse for her when she reached Archdruid status.  To some people of Delika druids were nothing more then convenient scapegoats for people to blame for their lack of work and food.

            According to them the druids were the reason why the people of Delika supposedly had no food and no paying jobs. When in fact, there was a surplus of food in all the countries and there were so many positions to fill that people were actually complaining about having to many jobs to fill!  The only reason they did it was to harass the druids for the simple reason that some people liked to bully others.   Others used the excuse that it was "all in good fun" or that it was a joke. 

            Some joke! Satura thought. That's the only reason those idiots could use for the deaths of nine druids three years ago.  Garret letting go of her broke her train of thought.  "There's something I came down her to discuss with you two." He said, sitting on a low stone wall.  "Well, why didn't you say so in the first place?"  His wife asked as she and Keldar sat opposite of him.   "What and interrupt another session where you two narrowly avoid cracking each other's heads open?"  He joked.  Both women scowled at him and started to finger their daggers.

            Garret realized he had mad a mistake. "Alright, I yield! I yield!" he said, holding up his hands in a sign of surrender.  He suddenly grew serious though, when he remembered the news he had to impart.   "What exactly did you have to discuss with us?" Satura asked. Garret reached into his belt pouch and pulled out a letter and handed it to her.    Satura gave a start as she recognized the seal of the Gregarin family.  "What could my uncle want?" she wondered aloud.  She then noticed that the seal was broken.  "You read it?"  She said looking at her husband.  He nodded sheepishly.

            Satura turned her attention to the letter, quickly reading it and picking out the details.   She slumped as she came to the end.  "More bad news?" Keldar asked. Satura handed her the letter. "There's more reports about magic being pulled from the land." The Druid said, looking up from the letter.  Garret nodded. "The part that worries me is that there's no pattern to it, random parts of Delika being sucked dry of magic, random portals appearing more frequently then they should."  The man said, shaking his head.   

            "One thing that worries me is the I can find nothing wrong with my magic, and you know how strong it is." Satura said.  "I can't find anything with my magic either." Garret said. "What about your Druid powers, Keldar?"    "I can feel nothing, only the pain of the land when the magic is pulled away from it."  "Do you have any news from your fellow members of the thieving bards?" Satura asked.   "No only vague rumors and hearsay."  Garret replied.  The man's chosen profession was a bit strange.  A thieving bard was a bard who was trained not only in the musical arts but the thieving arts as well. All thieving bards had to swear a magically binding oath that they would use their skills only for good and not for evil.

            Garret was a bit unusual in that due to his magic he was also considered a  magic bard- bards who trained in music and magic.  "Well, until we get more information there isn't much we can do." Satura said sighing and rubbing her forehead looking suddenly tired and worn.  The others nodded.  The three fell silent their thought turned towards one thing: Who are what was doing this to their beloved Delika?

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            Lord Elrond was pacing in the now empty Hall of Fire, trying to come up with a reason as to why Middle Earth was having these problems. Orcs were appearing in great numbers, areas of pure darkness and malice were appearing.  "Things are very disturbing aren't they?" A familiar voice asked. Elrond turned and their before him was Gandalf the wizard.

            He looked as he always did, Grey hair and beard slightly tangled with a pipe in his hand.  "You could not sleep either?" he asked the Rivendell lord.  Elrond sighed and sank down onto a bench with a sigh, his face showing signs of fatigue and worry. "No I keep trying to find an answer, but all I come up with is more questions.  I tried to find answers in our library, I even asked Aragorn to check his.  Both sources only gave me more questions, Gandalf." 

            The wizard sat by his friend. "What about the Lord and Llady of Loríen?" He asked.  "I sent messages to them many weeks ago. I got a reply earlier today.  Not even the Lord and Lady know what is going on.  The message went on to say that not even they are immune to what is going on. They are hard pressed just to keep their borders secure."  Gandalf's already somber face became even graver.  "So what are you going to do?"

            "I am calling a council of all the races of Middle-Earth.  I sent out messengers to the Hobbits in the Shire, The Dwarves in the Lonely Mountain, The Elves of Mirkwood and Loríen and to the King of Gondor. The council will commence in three weeks. We need to find a reason why this is happening, Gandalf." Elrond said grimly. "If we don't I fear this may mean the end of everything you, I and many others suffered to create."

            Gandalf said nothing, only considered his friends' words. It had been two years since the fall of Sauron. Peace had been established between the races and countries. People were no longer afraid and were looking forward to prosperous and happy times.  The thought of losing it all sent chills right down to his very soul.  He gave a small puff on his pipe and blew out one single smoke ring.  "We will wait then and see what the council will decide." Gandalf said.  The two friends then looked up at the stars, both hoping for someway to stop the evil that was slipping into their cherished Middle-Earth.