A/N - yeah, that would be a good idea, the Thaliondil thing...but so wrong somehow!

Chapter 10 - the Birth of Nightmare

And so she departed. The sun, now high in the sky cast its fierce rays upon the face of Carnil, yet all light seemed to him but futile mockery, for his light was gone. Tinuial and Thaliondil were now reduced to two tiny shrinking figures in the distance, and eventually disappeared into the dust of the horizon. Carnil stirred at last. He felt the unfamiliar urge to weep, yet he did not, for he had forgotten how.

'Whither do you now go, my friend?' Erdal questioned him softly.

'I follow Tinuial,' He replied quietly, not meeting his friend's eye. 'I do not ask you to remain with me. Yet I gave her my word that I would do so.' Erdal looked dismayed, yet he was resigned to Carnil's decision, as though he had guessed already what thoughts dwelt in the mind of his friend.

'You shall need company, I think.' Erdal said with a weak smile. Carnil looked at him with clear gratitude in his eyes, and would have smiled were he able.

'You remain loyal, Erdal, my friend,' he replied. 'Though I think you do not approve of my decision.'

'It goes against my wisdom,' the Elf remarked lightly. 'Though love ever is set apart from wisdom!'

'Truly,' Carnil mumbled. 'Yet I value your opinion, friend. I would have you tell me why you deem my choice unwise.'

'How much have you told Tinuial of your past?' Erdal asked uncertainly.

'Naught, for she has never asked of it.' Carnil replied shortly.

'Soon or late she will discover the truth. If she is to become yours, then she will fall under your doom. Perhaps it is best that she leaves, best for all concerned! Thaliondil will care for her, and she may yet find happiness, far from the shadows. She is a fair maid, and true. Can you risk her fate becoming entangled in yours?' Carnil looked upon his friend, bitterness sparkling in his eyes.

'Already I am bound to her!' He shouted, his anger erupting with a suddenness that surprised them both, though his wrath was not aimed at Erdal. 'And were I a man of any worth or virtue I would set her free - free from this darkness which has been set upon me! Yet I cannot allow her to think that I have forsaken her.'

'You have made your choice,' Erdal spoke solemnly. 'You will follow your heart, and I will follow your lead.'

'Then we must depart!' Carnil declared, his wrath still simmering faintly. 'And when I find Tinuial, I shall tell her all. For I cannot withhold the truth from her, and when I see her next, she shall learn it in its entirety.' He gazed into the East, whither Tinuial and her brother had gone. And without another word they began to journey, carefully following the trail of Thaliondil and Tinuial. As they journeyed on, Carnil's thoughts were far from him, and with each step he cursed the evil doom that from childhood had darkened his days, which had caused himself and his lost kin such endless hardship and sorrow; and more than any other, he cursed the name of He who was responsible, Morlach of the Black Flame.

A warm, hazy Autumn afternoon cloaked all the land in its golden ambience, and the light of the yellow sun was soft and bright. It was with growing fury that Tinuial trudged her way across the increasingly rocky ground, for Thaliondil led her now South. Still he tightly clutched her arm, which still shook with a simmering, white-hot anger. She walked now slowly, and for some time Thaliondil had been practically hauling her across the stony earth. Bare hills rose before them, and when she looked behind her Tinuial could no longer see the deep, imposing forests she had beheld at dawn. Thaliondil suddenly halted, and looked at his sister. Her expressionless face was pale and pinched, her eyes staring out blankly like wells of haunted shadow.

'You are weary,' Thaliondil remarked gently. 'We shall halt here awhile.' Yet he was restless, breathing heavily and pacing back and forth, occasionally straining his eyes into the horizon as though from fear of pursuit.

'What is this place?' Tinuial asked sullenly as she stumbled to the ground and sat upon a protruding mound of grey rock.

'We are now crossing Andram, the Long Wall. Nargothrond lies to the West, and to the immediate North the forest of Region, and the Enchanted Realm of King Thingol.' Tinuial had seldom studied maps, and his explanation clarified little in her mind, yet the fact that Thaliondil at least had some notion of where they were was a relief. She bowed her head, contemplating the hard ground.

'Whither do we go?' She questioned coldly, without looking at her brother.

'I have not yet decided.' He replied, gazing down at her. His eyes were sorrowful, and his anger now had faded without a trace. 'We go South - as far from the Shadow as may be. We may there find a land whch seems fair to us.'

'No land shall appear fair to me.' She replied quietly, her eyes stinging with hot tears.

'Tinuial, do not weep, I beg you.'

'Do you wonder that I am grieved?' She cried. 'It is your doing!'

'You do not understand,' he answered calmly. 'I wish only to protect you, and I promised father no less. I failed Annariel, and were you to be joined with this man, I would have failed you also!' Tinuial looked up at him in surprise. She had not considered before that Thaliondil might have held himself responsible for Annariel's death. Her heart softened slightly towards him, yet her slow-burning anger would not abate. Now that she had had time to fully examine her situation, she was required to consider the possibility that Carnil might indeed not pursue her. The thought was intolerable, yet she could not escape her doubt. She realised how mad and foolish she had been to lose her heart so entirely to a man she barely knew. She did not know if he was trustworthy, or if he truly cared for her - even if her own feelings were genuine. How could she know, after such a short time? Nonetheless, their relationship might flourish, if only it were given the chance. If Thaliondil had robbed them of that chance for his own stubborn reasons, she would never forgive him.

'Why do you hate him so?' She cried, her eyes alive and glistening as with a deep flame.

'Had I hated him, I would have slain him for laying hands upon you!' He replied harshly.

'I doubt it not,' she chided. 'You care more for your wishes to be obeyed than you do for my welfare. You deem that I am naught but a foolish child, who knows not her own heart!'

'In one thing you are correct!' Thaliondil growled, 'In that you do not fully understand your own heart! It is little more than a week since first you met this man! And how much, may I ask, do you know of him? Of his past, his lineage, his intentions? He is below you, my sister.' Tinuial was silent for a moment. She could not explain to Thaliondil, in terms he would accept or even understand, how her heart soared with acute bliss each time the memory of Carnil rose up before her, and how truly insignificant minor details concerning his heritage were. She and Thaliondil were practically outlaws themselves now, and could hardly make the slightest claim to grandeur.

'What does it matter?' Tinuial argued at last. 'You say he is below me. In that matter, I, and no other, shall be the judge!'

'Nay, Tinuial! You shall abide by my judgement! I beg you to understand that I would not separate you from Carnil, were it not for your own benefit. You surely cannot believe that I would wish you harm? I am your brother!'

'You are no brother of mine!' She screamed. 'And have no right to claim me! I have no kin, and I shall do as I will!' Thaliondil made no reply, but stared at Tinuial aghast. Never had he thought to hear her utter such words as these. Tinuial could not look at Thaliondil, fearing lest he would be filled with wrath, and she cast her face downwards. The instant the words had escaped her lips, she regretted them, yet she would not beg his pardon, not after what he had done.

'If those are indeed your feelings towards me,' he said at length, his fists clenched and his eyes misted. 'And to you I am no more than an aquaintance, then perhaps I was wrong to attempt to keep you from the path you wish to tread.' He cast himself upon the ground, and sat motionless, like a grim statue formed of cold stone. He gazed into the heavens, his grey eyes gleaming, and Tinuial saw that almost he wept. She could bear it no longer.

'I did not mean those words!' She murmured mournfully. 'I do not deny that you have caused me sorrow. Yet you are my kin - all that remains of it.' Thaliondil nodded silently.

'I know, my sister.' He said.

The weather was mild and still, and remained so for the next few days.Though as time wore on, the air grew colder, and the sun became pale and wraithlike. Tinuial saw no trace of Carnil, and she spoke of him, though he was never far from her thoughts. With each passing day her situation seemed to her more hopeless, and the likelihood of his following her diminished, until she was quite certain that he had forsaken her. Perhaps, then, Thaliondil had been correct, and Carnil was unworthy of her. Yet at the thought of never seeing him again made her sick and cold to the stomach.

They had almost crossed the rocky hills, and Tinuial was cold and silent as a mild day drained into a deep, sombre evening. They had halted for the night, and Tinuial lay upon the ground sheathed in a thick blanket. She soon drifted into a heavy slumber, haunted by dark dreams.

Suddenly, Tinuial found herself standing in the midst of a vast stone chamber, swathed in the heavy shades of night. She had no notion of where she was, and she shivered with fear of she knew not what. For though her eyes beheld no other living creature, she could not escape the sensation that she was not alone. A pale, unearthly light slowly grew from an unseen source, yet the blackness remained in patches, and shadows seemed to hang upon the very air like velvet webs. The room echoed with the sound of Tinuial's feverish breathing, and terror smote her as her surroundings became clearer still.

She did not recognise this place, and gasped as she beheld it. A high, dark ceiling glowered down upon the marble floor. Ornate carvings and statues lined the walls, and the spectral light shimmered upon the carven form of a writhing serpent, which wrapped itself about the stone figure of a man. The man's face was contorted in perpetual agony, and his unseeing eyes gazed heavenward. Tinuial noticed another carving with a shudder; it depicted a slain horse lying sprawled upon the impenetrable ground, with a spear thrust through its abdomen. Who would make such carvings as these? And for what purpouse? She almost wept, as she cast her eyes all about the chamber and beheld only the anguished faces of slain or tortured men and beasts. With a jolt of horror, she realised that this room contained neither window or door. She was trapped. The new light began to diminish, and the statues cowered darkly upon the edge of her sight. As Tinuial scrutinised the cold floor for any means of escape, she caught sight of her own hand, and gave a strangled cry. For the first time she realised that she herself was the source of the light, and her hands glowed white as misted moonlight as she held them out in front of her.

This was a dream, it had to be. Or else she was overcome by madness. She gazed in wonder at her raiment, for she was clad in a gown of glimmering white silk, with sleeves long and billowing, white as morning frost. Her pale skirts were embellished with silver gems which sparkled like the dust of icy stars, and around her neck there hung a tiny jewel of glistening argent upon a fragile chain. Raising her shaking hand to her head, she could feel that her long, straight hair had been carefully braided. In the light that now emanated softly from her face and hands, her fair locks glittered like the untouched ice of midwinter. Of a sudden, Tinuial heard a noise from behind her, as of a soft footfall, though when she turned she could see only the shifting shadows. Several times she heard the noise, and ever it came from behind. Then she discerned, unmistakably, a noise like the sharp intake of breath to her left, and she turned to face it, shivering uncontrollably. The air seemed to become warm and acrid, and she felt a rush of wind, like scalding breath upon her face. And then she felt it. A long, spider-like hand seized her arm with terrifying suddenness. It's touch was hot and searing as though the hand was formed entirely of flaming coal, and she was burned. Tinuial opened her mouth to scream, but could make no sound - as though her voice had been stolen by that dreadful touch. Yet in an instant it was gone, her vision faded and darkness fell. Out of the shadows a voice whispered her name. She knew that voice.

'Carnil?' She murmured, in barely audible voice. The chamber had disappeared. She lay upon the rocky ground once more, and the cold air of night stung her face. She could hear the soft breathing of Thaliondil as he rested nearby, and in the dim starlight she saw the face of Carnil as he knelt beside her. She sat up, and flung her quaking arms about him, weeping silently.