A/N - Last Temptation - thanks again! And I only have so much "motivation" to write this fic because I'm meant to be doing about a hundred other things right now! Like my dissertation. But when the fic chicken bites you…

Chapter 13 - Erdal's Departure

It was cold. The uneasy, prickling sensation of sharp, keen air upon her face was the first thing Tinuial felt. What had befallen her? She knew not. Her eyes were closed, and she did not wish to open them lest she should discover that the darkness of her dreams had seeped into the world beyond. She lay still upon a flat rock surface, covered by a heavy blanket which thick though it was did not suffice to shield her entirely from the frosty air. A great silence was upon the world, looming behind the darkness like a yawning chasm of emptiness. She at last opened her eyes. She was still in the small, dark cavern of Amon Ereb. Only vaguely did she recall this place. She sat up, and blinked as she beheld the soft, yellow light of day streaming in through the opening in the rock. I was many days since she had beheld such light, and it seemed to her a thing new and wonderful. She smiled faintly. It was then that she noticed Carnil. He leaned against the wall of the cave, cloaked in darkness. He did not appear to see her, and he seemed deep in silent contemplation, his sharp green eyes staring out blankly like windows of desolation. His face was grim, and smudged with dirt. There was no sign of Thaliondil or Erdal.

'Carnil?' She whispered, her voice weak and cracked. He looked up abruptly.

'Tinuial!' He cried, rising to his feet and moving close to her. 'You cannot guess how relieved I am to hear you speak!' He knelt beside her.

'Where is Thaliondil?' she asked hazily. 'And Erdal?' A shadow fell across the face of Carnil.

'Your brother will soon return,' he said quietly. 'He has gone in search of food, for our supplies are running low.'

'Where is Erdal?' She asked.

'He is gone. Do not ask of him.' Carnil looked away, but Tinuial would not be dissuaded.

'I fear that evil has befallen,' she said softly, but sternly. 'How long have I been asleep? What became of the creatures of Morlach? Whither has Erdal gone?'

'Almost we were discovered,' he muttered. 'And so we would have been.' He shuddered, and bowed his head as though in shame.

'Tell me what has happened!' Tinuial demanded urgently.

'There was no escape,' He resumed after a pause. 'For our trail would lead to this place, and it was only a matter of time ere we were discovered. As we lay in wait, listening to the cries of the host of Morlach draw closer, I perceived that there was only one course of action to take. For they came only to claim me. In the rain and hail, I thought that perhaps our tracks had been confused, and they may not have perceived that I travelled in the company of others. The thought dawned upon me that if I were to give myself up, and allow them to lead me to Morlach, then my companions would remain undiscovered. So it would have been, had I possessed the courage.

'Erdal knew also that we would be discovered in this place, which I perceived when we arrived here. At first, in my folly, I mistrusted him. Yet I was wrong, for never was there a truer friend. He also knew that the thralls of Morlach would only depart once they had in their possession the heir or Annundur. Yet they are fools, with little wit or understanding, as may clearly be seen. My plan was to leave this place ere they drew close, to go forth to meet them and feign to flee, and so draw them away from my companions. Yet when the time came, I could not leave you. I was torn in two, and I remain so. Erdal went in my stead. He left even before I perceived what had befallen. Yet I heard him through the storm, and his voice rose above the tumult clearer than ever before. I heard his words. He claimed to be the heir of Annundur.'

Tinuial's face dropped, and she gazed at Carnil in shock.

'Yet he is of the Eldar,' She murmured. 'How did they not perceive this?'

'They are blind,' he said. 'For years uncounted they have dwelt in the darkness of Taur-im-Duinath, and guided by the malice of Morlach they have no need of sight. Almost my heart fails me, when I think of how Erdal will fare in that darkness. I cannot leave him to this fate, and yet were I to follow him it would accomplish naught. They would not release him, and death would come upon both of us, though we should meet it side by side.' His eyes glimmered with tears, and he turned his face from hers.

'You must not follow him!' Tinuial cried in terror. 'I beg you not to abandon me!'

'And yet you would have me abandon Erdal?' He asked. Tinuial's eyes burned with tears, yet she gazed at him steadily.

'I am sure he did not mean for you to follow him. He did this deed of his own accord, and it is clear that his purpose was to sacrifice himself that you might be spared. Would you rob his sacrifice of all worth?' She insisted, 'I too grieve for him, truly, yet there is naught you can do! You can merely bring about your own death, which would destroy me also!'

'Can you not see, Tinuial, that my choice is made?' Carnil said wearily. 'The fever has been upon you for longer than you realise perhaps! Erdal is three days gone, and it is now too late to pursue him. I have chosen to remain with you.' He looked at her sadly.

'I hope you do not hold me to blame?' She asked quietly.

'How can the blame be laid upon any but myself?' He exclaimed angrily. 'I sat by and watched as my greatest friend was taken to his death!'

'Your vision is clouded by grief,' Tinuial murmured softly. 'It is true that you could have died alongside him, yet what would that have availed?'

'Nothing,' he replied shortly. 'Though it would have been the only honourable choice. I am unworthy of such loyalty.'

'You were loyal to me!' She exclaimed in desperation, 'You vowed to stay by my side!'

'Do not mistake cowardice for virtue!' He chided bitterly. Tinuial could not think how to reply, for there was no reasoning with Carnil when such a mood was upon him.

'His death is not in vain,' She half-whispered, as though she feared to anger him. 'For when Erdal is no more, will Morlach not believe that it is you who are slain?'

'Nay, he is not cursed with the same foolishness as his miserable slaves! Erdal will be slain, of course. Yet it will merely increase the wrath of Morlach. He will not take Erdal to be me, for he has seen me.'

'He has beheld me, also,' Tinuial sighed nervously. 'Though only in my dreams.'

'Thus he watches over his enemies,' Carnil replied darkly. 'He can see you, but never shall you behold him.'

Tinuial could not control the wave of horror that washed over her, and glistening tears sprang from her eyes like pearls in the soft light. There was a lengthy pause, yet soon enough Carnil had calmed, and he held Tinuial in his arms as she wept.

'Do not fear,' He said gently. 'Forgive my harsh words. I am sorrowful indeed at the passing of Erdal, yet I do not regret my choice to remain with you. Though in truth we must soon depart, for this place is not safe. When Morlach discerns the truth of Erdal his fury will be great, and we must be far from this place when he learns of this betrayal.'

'In any case, I wish to remain here no longer,' she replied. 'I am well enough to travel. When Thaliondil returns, we depart. I care not whither.'

The afternoon sun glowed pale yellow, and filled the clear sky with its soft, watery light. The land about was fair. It comprised mainly of sprawling plains dotted with clumps of woodland, though much was now flooded, and vast pools of water caught the thin sunlight and glimmered gently. The three companions slowly descended the slopes of Amon Ereb, gazing at the strange land. In the days of her early youth, Tinuial had never thought to behold such places as this, though deep within her heart she had always secretly desired to. Her life in Nargothrond could never be more than a wraithlike shadow of memory, and for better or worse, she could not return. This thought she held in her mind for some time, for it seemed somehow significant. Yet as she emerged from the mists of the past, though haunted by a grief from which her heart would never escape, she could not feel sorrowful, or weep for that which was gone beyond recall. She could merely feel the keen wind that stirred all the lands with its wild touch.

'Let us journey north,' Carnil said, raising his voice against the sharp wind. 'For when Morlach discovers what has befallen, I hope to be as far from Taur-im-Duinath as time may allow.' Tinuial and Thaliondil said naught in reply, yet in unison they both headed off Northwards, whence came the raging wind.

Grey night had fallen. The harsh wind had lessened, and all was still. Tinuial sat beside her companions in a dusky woodland region, and the deep twilight fell upon the dark silhouettes of the bare trees. The new moon hung suspended in the heavens like a leering silver scythe amid the raven void. Carnil lay upon the brink of slumber, yet Thaliondil was wakeful, and sat motionless upon the hard ground with his back against a hollow tree. Tinuial glanced at her brother. The cold, white radiance of the stars reflected upon the surface of his stony grey eyes, and he gazed sorrowfully up at the naked branches of the dead tree. Thaliondil had spoken few words of late, and Tinuial could not guess was within his heart, yet she perceived that he was troubled. She seemed to behold him now as from a great distance. With a heavy sigh Tinuial lay upon the ground, and made ready to sleep. Yet ere she fell into slumber, she was disturbed by a faint sound. Footsteps. The noise drew closer, and as it echoed amid the shadowy trees it became unmistakable. The footfalls were soft, feather-light in themselves but magnified by the silence - it did not sound to Tinuial like the heavy tread of an Orc. She sat up, and shot a hurried glance at her brother. He also had heard the sound. He strode over to Tinuial, clearly making a conscious effort to tread as softly as he was able, though it came not easily for he was wont to stamp his feet as he walked. As he drew close to Tinuial, his eyes sparkled with tears, and she saw that he had been weeping, though she knew better than to comment upon it.

'Await me here,' he whispered stealthily. 'I go forth to meet this creature. Do not move!'

He turned, melting slowly into the gloom. Tinuial strained her eyes into the night, yet she could discern nothing, for the darkness veiled her sight. For a time she heard nothing save the beating of her own heart. Then, she heard a cry, muffled and remote. Once more she heard footfalls growing steadily louder, and she recognised the firm tread of Thaliondil. She sighed with relief, and drew herself hurriedly to her feet.

Thaliondil came into view, and in his arms he bore the motionless figure of a maiden. Tinuial gasped. The girl was hooded and cloaked all in black, and little of her face could be seen. Thaliondil placed her gently upon the ground, and she lay still and peaceful as though deep in slumber. Tinuial knelt beside the maiden. Carnil woke suddenly, and seeing the maiden he rose and stood beside Thaliondil, gazing down into the pale face of the mysterious lady who lay there. She was unmistakably an Elf, and dazzlingly fair to look upon. Her face, however, was ashen and pinched, and she looked as though she had not eaten for many days.

'What has happened to her?' Tinuial whispered softly. 'Is she hurt?'

'I do not believe so,' Thaliondil replied solemnly. 'Yet weariness lies heavily upon her. I know not whence she came; she spoke no word to me. She did not hear my approach, and she was shocked by my sudden appearance. She cried out in terror, and yet was so worn with exhaustion that she fell senseless into my arms. Light as air she was,' At this, the maiden began to stir. Though her face was shrouded in shadow, the sparkle of her bright eyes could easily be seen. She sat up with a jolt, and cried aloud to find herself in the company of three strangers. She looked about her, clearly disorientated. Frantically, she attempted to drag herself to her feet, yet Tinuial placed her hand upon the maiden's quaking shoulder.

'We do not wish to harm you.' Tinuial murmured gently.

'Do not fear us,' Carnil said, fetching a flask of water and handing it gently to the frightened girl, who accepted it gratefully, yet spoke no word. As she drained the flask, the three companions watched her in silence.

'Are you hurt, lady?' Carnil asked her when she had finished. The maiden shook her head.

Some minutes of heavy silence had passed. Tinuial was busying herself in the preparation of food for the Elven maid, whilst Thaliondil and Carnil sat beside the girl and watched her with covert interest. She seemed reluctant to speak.

'Are you lost?' Carnil asked softly. The maiden nodded lightly.

'Whence came you?' Thaliondil demanded bluntly. She turned from him and spoke no word. There was a pause.

'Have you any kin?' Carnil asked quietly. It seemed she responded better to gentleness. The maiden looked him in the eyes, and a tear rolled down her cheek, ensnaring the frail starlight as it fell. She raised her white, delicate hand to her face and dashed away the tear.

'Forgive me, lady!' Carnil said hurriedly. At that point, Tinuial approached softly and handed the maiden food, which she ate hungrily. Carnil sighed.

'I must rest.' He said wearily, and for the second time that night he made ready to sleep. The maiden's gaze was fixed upon Carnil, and her glimmering eyes pursued him as he turned from her. Thaliondil sat upon the hard ground with his back to a tree once more. He clearly did not intend to sleep, and he eyed the maiden with quiet distrust. She noted this, and shot him a vaguely disgruntled glance from under her dark hood.

'I bid you goodnight,' Tinuial said politely to the girl. 'Yet I would have you tell me your name. I am Tinuial.'

'Elmarië, I am named.' She replied softly, in her melodious Elven voice. Tinuial smiled, and turned away.