Hey all. First off, trigger warning for torture in this chapter. Also, who can catch the vague Mark Twain reference in this chapter? God I'm nerd.

Also, thought more on Noru's age. He's definatley under 190 (Which is actually, how old Maeglin was when he died. God, he really was a young elf. Maeglin. I made myself sad. I go between hating him and feeling sorry for him. Anyway, happy mothers day. 9Well, mother's day was yesterday, but still.

As always, thank you to everyone who reads, and enjoy:)

Braith was only slowly aware of waking. It was as if one by one his limbs caught fire, and then the rest of him, until he opened his eyes. Darkness. It smelled of piss and death. Only a small sliver of light shone from above. He was in the pit. Slowly he forced himself up, his entire body throbbing in pain. Adlyn! A surge of sick fear filled him. He tried to say her name, but it came out as a groan. There was a slight shift near to him, and then a pair of small hands were clutching his large ones.

"Papa..." Her voice was cracked, small, but it was not broken,

"Adlyn!" he reached for her, finding her face. Immediately he felt his stomach jolt. He could see nothing, but on her face he felt a sticky wetness, and the crusted feel of recently dried blood.

"Adlyn, what did he do to you?" Every bit of this was his fault. He hadn't known what to do. The last thing he remembered was Brandon looking on as the men beat him. What had they done to Adlyn as he lay in darkness"? She gave a small cry of pain as he brushed her face, but tried to hide it.

"Nothing papa. I'm fine."

His eyes were beginning to adjust. He could see Adlyn's outline. He reached for her again, trying to wrap his arms around her small form. She hugged him back, her arms shaking. The light shining through the small crack above was bright. It must be midday. Still the hole was dark, but his eyes were adjusting. And he wished they weren't. In the dim shadows Adlyn's face was becoming clear. He could see the vague outline of marred flesh torn and bloody, oozing blood, some dried. There was no order to the gashes, they were long, and random, raked across her face. He knew immediately that Brandon had whipped her in the face. Hard. The gashes were deep, he thought maybe he saw a flash of bone. He sobbed. No. Adlyn. One of her eyes was lost in marred flesh, puffed and swollen. He prayed it would emerge. No. He had sat idle to long, watched as Brandon killed his wife, and gave his daughter to his cruel son. And now he had marred her. And Braith had watched. He had wanted her to go, to go to safety. But she had stayed. Why? Why was she so loyal? He loved her with everything, and she loved him, but he did not deserve her. He deserved death, and eternal torture. But he could redeem himself. He could redeem himself, if only a little. He would kill Brandon, when they brought him out. He was strong, fast. He would surprise them all. Lunge for a dagger, drive it into Brandon's head. He had to. No matter what. He had to. He would not fail this time. Oaths, debts, and prophecy be damned. Adlyn lay her head on his shoulder. How was she functioning? She was stronger then any had guessed. She was strong. Braith hid his tears. He had to be strong for her. For once in his life. For her sake, for the little girl who had braided flowers in his hair, the little girl who was now a woman, he had to act. Finally, even if it would mean his own death. He had hidden from death long enough. He would finally face it.

Xxxxxxxxx

Ailith giggled. She sat peacefully up on the roof with Glorfindel, the day cool but sunny.

"Glorfindel, he's going to kill you!"

"Well, I've died before. The whole thing was greatly exaggerated. I think I'll be fine."

"You'll deserve it anyway."

"Maybe so." Glorfindel smiled and easily waved the scroll in the air. "Erestor works to hard anyway. This will give hims rest."

"I don't think so. He's probably searching everywhere for you. What's the scroll about anyway?"

"House hold expenses. Nothing important."

"I don't know much about running a household, but I think that's important."

"But not in the grand scheme of things."

"Hmmm." Ailith wanted to say something else, but she was distracted by slight tremor. She jumped, startled. It was the baby. Glorfindel had noticed her face.

"What is it pen tithen?"

"The baby. I felt it move again."

"That's wonderful. You know, they say talking to the baby, when it's inside, helps you to bond. I had a dear dear friend. Aredhel. She was gone from our city fr a long time. And when she returned, it was with a son...She told me that everyday that he was inside of her, she spoke to him, and every night she dreamed of him, so when he was born they had already known each other for a year. You could see it. They...shared a deep bond. Even in the short time I saw them together, you could see that." His voice was suddenly immensely sad, his eyes distant. Ailith watched him carefully. He shook himself and managed a small smile.

"Maye I should try that as well." She touched his arm. "Aredhel is a beautiful name. Who was she?"

"The sister of Turgon, the king of Gondolin. I'm surprised you haven't heard of her yet."

"No. Maybe once, but never much."

"Well, she always dressed in silver and white, and she loved to hunt in the forests of Valinor, with the sons of Feanor. She was born in the same year as Galadriel, who I have told you of, and they were cousins, and though different, they enjoyed each other's company. She followed her brothers and father into exile, and she lived long with Turgon in Gondolin. But she desired to venture abroad, she felt trapped. Her and I, we were dear friends. The white city was beautiful Ailith, and she was one of the most beautiful things in it. She had a bright spirit. Turgon love her greatly, as did her niece, Idril, who I know you have heard of. Well, Turgon let her go, but insisted she have an escort. I was one of them, as was Ecthelion and Egalmoth. Ecthelion and I would oft spend time with her, the three of us were merry companions. But we lost her. I still curse that mistake. And eventually, she found her way to a dark forest, where Eol the dark elf, curse him, found her, and they were wed. She said it was not against her will. Well, they had a son, Maeglin, whom she called Lomion. Eventually she desired to leave, so her and Maeglin fled while Eol was gone. And they found Gondolin We rejoiced to see her return. But Eol had found her as well, and he had found the hidden city. Turgon would not allow him to leave. In rage the monster hurled a javelin at Maeglin, wanting to take his son. But Aredhel jumped in front of it. She caught the barb. But she didn't die. We thought she was fine. She laughed with me, and it was as if she had never left. But the javelin had been poisoned. She sickened swiftly, and she died that night. In punishment Eol was cast off from the high wall. Maeglin just watched. She left a mark on each of us. Maeglin. He was so young, but seemed older. I was kind to him. Aredhel's son, marred by grief, to young to be so hurt. But he fell to darkness, and so to did Gondolin." Glorfindel finished, his eyes sad. His hand went absently to a chain that hung around his neck. Ailith realized that he always wore it. But she had never seen what was on the end. He pulled it out, showing her a small bow wrought of silver, with a white arrow. So that was what hung at the end of the chain.

"Was that hers?"

"Yes. She gave it to me a long time ago."

"What are you two talking about then?" Lana's head appeared over the edge of the roof.

"Just dusty history and such." Glorfindel smiled. "Where is Tuor then?"

"I left him with Gethin, they're both asleep. It's actually a bit adorable." Lana easily pulled herself up onto the roof and settled next to Ailith. She had pinned her hair up, twisting her braid into a bun. Ailith noticed she had pinned it with one of Arwen's hair pins. So she had accepted Arwen's help after all. She had managed to find some light trousers and an airy tunic, which she had settled into comfortably, belting it, though they had convinced her to leave her sword.

"So how did you find our spot then Lana? I thought this was something of a well kept secret."

"Arwen told me. Said you might be here."

"The place is growing on you big sister, isn't it? Can't really dislike elves, at least these ones, can you?" Ailith smiled

"It's nice here, I will say that." Lana smiled back, though her eyes still had much sadness in them. Ailith felt it tug at her own heart.

"I felt the baby move Lana."

"Did you? My niece or nephew is staring early it seems."

"Yes."

"He or she's going to be spirited."

"It would seem so. Little Estel, or Haleth, will cause trouble I think."

"I think it's a boy Ailith."

"Really? I think she's a girl. But who can know?"

"What if its twins?" Lana smile jokingly.

"Oh, can you imagine?" Ailith laughed. "Thankfully I don't think that's the case."

"Whoever your child is, he or she will be wonderful I'm sure." Glorfindel smiled. "As you may have noticed, children are held in high esteem and adoration among elves. We see to few."

"Yes. You almost glow every time you're around Tuor." Lana smiled

"Children are a gift."

"Often an unexpected one." Lana twisted her hair around her finger.

"Think Gethin will do anything stupid?' Ailith changed the subject.

"Well, yes, but nothing dangerous. That boy. Spitting in his host's face. Even I know not to do that. But he's a sort of son to me, so I can't stop myself from wanting to take care of the idiot."

"You know Lana, you truly are much more caring, compassionate, and patient then you'd have us believe aren't you? Never would have guessed it when I first met you. But I quickly learned." Glorfindel smiled.

"Maybe I'm just lolling you into a sense of false security, so I can win at cards," Lana leaned her head back and closed her eyes. It seed she had grown as at ease with Glorfindel as Ailith had seen her with anyone save her family. She smiled around him rather a lot. Strange. Lana did not easily accept someone. But she seemed to have accepted Glorfindel. He was actually the only elf she seemed to be at ease around. She was nervous when in the presence of most of the other inhabitants of Rivendell. Ailith was not used to seeing her sister flustered. For his part Glorfindel seemed to have a great deal of affection for Lana. Just then the sound of someone scrabbling up the roof beams became apparent. A moment later Erestor poked his head over the edge, his hair in disarray

"Glorfindel, in the name of Eru, give me back my scroll right now or I'll-"

"Ah, Erestor! Good to see you!." Glorfindel easily reached down and took hold of his friends hand, pulling him up next to him before Erestor could react. "Please, sit down mellon. And remember not to use Eru's name so freely." He gently tugged Erestor down into a sitting position.

"Glorfindel I swear-"

"Deep breaths now." Glorfindel lay his arm across Erestor's shoulders and smiled. Lana was watching the whole thing with an amused expression on her face, one eyebrow raised. She quickly rearranged her expression when Erestor looked over at her, and immediately looked nervous.

"Glorfindel, I am going to take the scroll and-"

"Erestor. Remember when I left? You were very concerned. And when I returned, you actually said you'd missed me. Among other things. So please, let's not fight?"

"But-"

"We also have company." Glorfindel gestured to Lana and Ailith. Erestor opened his mouth to say something, but just sighed and raised his hands.

"Fine. I swear to Er-I swear to the heavens, one of these days Glorfindel..."

"Just relax."

xxxxxxxxxx

Adlyn's whole body was on fire. She could feel the pain rippling in dull sick throbs up and down. Her father still held her against him, his breath short and tense. She clutched him as tight as she could. The hole smelled like death. Surely soon she would die. And for some reason it didn't frighten her. For the first time she wasn't afraid. Brandon could do his worse, but she didn't care anymore. She would die, and she would be free. She looked at her Father. He would never be free. How she wished that he could. She had changed though. A small seed of bravery had caused her to flee. And the strangers who Lana had fled with had shown her kindness, and bravery. Resistance, and hope. She smiled when she thought of Ailith. She hoped that she would live a long full life, and that her child would be beautiful. She wished she could have met him or her. She wished she could have met her own baby. But she had made her choice. It was almost as if she was viewing everything from far. Suddenly all of the years of fear, and hiding, and timidness, and submission, suddenly they were all just a mask, and for the first time she was beginning to look out, and see that there was more. A pity she discovered it now, when surely her life was near over. But who knew what death would hold? She just hoped her father would be alright. Maybe he would join her. Brandon would kill her first though. That she knew. Maybe her death would inspire the people to resist. After so many years of submission. Suddenly light flooded in as the thick plank was dragged away. It was so bright that she was blinded momentarily. Her father tensed, standing immediately and throwing her behind him. Her eyes adjusted, and she saw Brandon leering down at them. She met his eyes. Never again would she look away.

"Good morning Adlyn, Braith." His voice was kind. They said nothing, looked silently up at him. He hesitated a moment, looking her over carefully. She tried not to look away. His eyes reached a decision.

"Bring Adlyn up, leave Braith."

"NO! You won't have her!" Her father's eyes were mad. He grasped her tight, his fists before him. Brandon heaved a sigh, and without warning grabbed a long spear from one of his men and swiftly plunged it down, stabbing it into her father's side. He gave a cry of pain and fell, still madly trying to fight, to protect her. Brandon held the spear against his throat. They lowered a latter, and she went to climb it. She would face her fate. Her father cried out, rolling out from under the spear and coming towards her. Trying to climb the latter, to grab the spear. But he fell with a cry of pain. She knelt next to him.

"It's alright papa. I'm not afraid to die. I welcome it. It will be alright. I'll see mama. And you can join us soon. This will just be an adventure." She wiped her tears away and gently kissed her father's cheek, looking into his eyes. Then she climbed the latter, trying to ignore her father's desperate cries. He lunged for the latter again, and was cruelly knocked aside. They closed the plank behind her. She found herself facing the camp, men and women both. So it was to be a public execution. She stood looking up at Brandon.

"So. Are you going to butcher me with a sword? Or do you prefer spear?" She was shaking uncontrollably.

"Oh Adlyn. No. I'm not going to kill you. I'm merciful." He pulled her against him, his breath stinking. He pressed his mouth to her ear.

"Besides. You welcome death. And I don't want to give you what you want. You'll suffer you little whore." His voice was a whisper. None save her heard it. Her stomach dropped. No. no nonononono. He saw the despair in her eyes and smiled. He grabbed her by the hair and held her up. The pain wasn't even a surprise anymore.

"She betrayed you all! She seems an innocent girl, but she betrayed you all, she joined the murderers of your men! She's whore! She slept with the ranger, the killer of her own betrothed!' He was shaking her. She felt a stab of rage.

"That's a lie! I never touched any of them save in friendship! You lie! You are the murderer!' She knew not where her bravery came from. But it was as if everything that she had held inside of her all these years was suddenly flowing out. Brandon shook her.

"Listen not to her poisoned lies! She would have you all dead! She would betray our master!' He tore the band from his wrist, revealing the eye. Adlyn shuddered, feeling hers burn. He threw her to the ground.

"So she will suffer! It may seem cruel, but I do it for love. Love of each of you! And vengeance! Vengeance for your husbands, your sons, your brothers!" He drew a long jagged dagger and then tore her clothes off. She blushed in shame, but held her head high. He grabbed her face and smiled.

"Your pretty little face is already marred from the whip. Your back as well. But I think you need more." The dagger cut across her already torn flesh. She screamed in pain. He gave a cruel laugh and began to slash at her flesh, long deliberate cuts along every inch of her body. The pain was a symphony, it was everything. But she couldn't black out. Every moment was vivid. He kicked her roughly to the ground again. The dirt rubbed into her stinging flesh. She was fire. And then everything was black.

Xxxxxxxxx

"When will Adlyn come?" Tuor looked up at him, his eyes wide with hope. Gethin winced.

"I don't know. Soon maybe." They were sitting outside in a small meadow, not far from the elf house. The day was cool but sunny, and the sound of running water and birds surrounded them. He could hear elvish voices in the distance. Wild flowers swayed around them. The dark haired elf, the beautiful one who was ever with the ranger, Arwen, Ailith had called her, had insisted that he be allowed to go and play with Tuor. So they sat in the meadow, quietly weaving flowers into garlands, and garlands into crowns. Tuor was already wearing one. He smiled.

"I like it here Gethin. Isn't it pretty? I like elves."

"I...it's very nice."

"I think we should live here forever. But Ailith said that she and Lana will live somewhere else. And I can live with them. And Estel and Glor will visit. And maybe the pretty lady elf as well. You have to live with us to Gethin."

"Okay."

"I thought maybe Becket could visit us. But now I understand that he can't."

"...Why is that?"

"He's dead. Daddy kept saying so, but I didn't understand. Now I do."

"Oh Tuor..." He wrapped his arms around his little brother, trying not to cry. Tuor patted his arm.

"It's okay."

"I suppose so."

They sat in silence, continuing to play with the flowers in the tall grass. Tuor looked up few moments later.

"Isn't Ailith pretty Gethin?"

"Uh, yes, I suppose so."

"She's pretty and kind. And she's brave. When daddy attacked us in the clearing, he used the hidden way. And I wanted to tell them, but I didn't know how. But Ailith, she protected me. I was scared, but it was okay. I love Ailith. She's the best auntie ever,"

"I'm glad."

"You think she's pretty Gethin?"

"Umm, I suppose if I think about it-"

"Good. You should marry her okay?"

"What?!"

"You should marry her. Because she's beautiful and kind and brave, and if you marry her then we'll all be a big family."

"Ah-"

"And that way her baby can have a daddy. And she won't be so sad."

"Oh-"

"Because her baby's papa, he didn't want to be a daddy. I heard her say that to Lana, and to Adlyn. It makes her sad. She looks so sad, and it makes me sad. But if you marry her, then she'll be happy. And we will all be a family."

"We are a family."

"But it will be better. Please marry Ailith? We can have a pretty wedding. With good food." Tuor looked at him imploringly. Gethin blinked. There was no reason not to humor his little brother.

"Alright."

"Yay!"

Gethin hoped Tuor would forget that particular promise.

Xxxxxx

"I haven't seen you all day." Ailith hugged Estel, who smiled at her.

"I heard you were off on the roof with Glorfindel."

"Yes. And Lana."

"Good. Have you and Lana had chance to talk yet?' Arwen tilted her head.

"Not yet. Tonight we will." She felt a sense of peace spreading within her. Arwen was holding Estel's hand in hers. They looked at each other with so much love. Ailith felt a small tug of sadness. But also contentment. Lana kissed her head, pausing to whisper in her ear.

"I understand why those two have never touched beyond kissing now. They don't need to. Just look at their eyes, who needs anything more when they might as well be-"

"Right then Lana." Ailith nudged her sister. Suddenly there was a delighted shout from down the hall. Tuor appeared, a crown of flowers on his curly head. Gethin was hurrying behind him, also sporting a garland of wild flowers. He skidded to a halt behind his little brother when he saw who was there.

"Mama! Auntie! Gethin and I made crowns!" Tuor was beaming, and thus Lana was as well. Tuor noticed Estel and Arwen.

"Estel! I made you a crown! And one for her to." he pointed shyly at Arwen. He handed a messy daisy crown to Estel who smiled and put it on his head. Arwen knelt down and let Tuor place the wild flower garland on her dark hair. He looked sheepishly at Arwen

"Miss, I made one for your papa to. Do you think he'll like it?" Tuor held up yet another garland clutched in his small hands. Arwen smiled.

"I think he'll love it. How about you and I give it to him in a few minutes?"

"Okay!" Tuor jumped up and clapped his hands. Then an idea seemed to strike him. He took hold of Ailith's hand and dragged her over to Gethin.

"Auntie Guess what?"

"What's that?"

"You and Gethin are going to get married!" Tuor smiled in delight. Gethin immediately turned red and looked mortified, shifting uncomfortably. Ailith raised an eyebrow, trying not to smile.

"Really? Why Gethin, I had no idea!"

"I, it wasn't-"

"No really, I'm flattered!"

Gethin seemed to be trying to determine whether she was serious or not. A moment later his mouth twitched upwards in a slight smile.

"I'm glad. I was a bit worried that you'd be against the idea." He managed to keep a straight face.

"Oh, no no no, of course not."

"So will you get married?!" Tuor tugged at her hand. She tried to think of an answer, but was saved by the appearance of Elladan and Elrohir, who Tuor seemed to like a great deal. He sheepishly approached them.

"Hello."

"Hello there Tuor. How are you then?" Elrohir stooped and picked Tuor up without hesitation, tossing him in the air. He screeched in delight. Estel smiled.

"They would always do that same thing to me."

xxxxxxxxxx

Lana watched Ailith. She was smiling and laughing, the sadness in her eyes lessoned. She chased Tuor around in circles with Gethin, who looked uncomfortable, but seemed to relish the distraction, and was even smiling a bit. And here she sat on the elegant bench, out on the long balcony, as the valley spread beneath her. It smelled so wonderful, fragrant and fresh, alive. This place was beautiful. But it put her on edge almost, while at the same time calming her. She was at ease in harsh streets, and in wilderness, but in this softness she wasn't sure what to do with herself. Her entire life had been about survival. She knew how, she knew how to exist like that. How could she function when she no longer needed to worry? She wasn't even sure who she was. Damn it all. Tuor squealed as Ailith caught him, and managed to slip away. He ran around a corner. This balcony was long. Maybe it surrounded the whole house. Gethin followed him. Ailith turned back to her.

"We'll be back Lana, don't worry." She waved, and Lana waved back, watching her run around the edge. This balcony was a perfect place for an exited child to play. She sighed. There was a soft rustling nearby. She started as Estel sat down next to her.

"Ah! Damn it ranger! How did you sneak up on me like that?!"

"My apologies." He still looked drawn, tired, and he was still limping, favoring his many wounds. But this place gave him an air of peacefulness she had not yet seen. His rough demeanor replaced with a lordly one. She supposed they all looked better with a bath.

"Separated from Arwen? That's a first since we've arrived."

"She's with her brothers. We are not attached at the hip."

"Right. It just seems you are. So, now that she's occupied, my company is acceptable?" she wasn't even trying to be difficult. It must have shown in her voice, because Estel didn't react, just sat silently next to her. He finally spoke.

"I'm assuming Ailith is playing who Tuor?"

"Yes. Just went that way actually. Gethin as well."

"Gethin. He doesn't speak much."

"Well, you're not the mot talkative I've ever met."

"I suppose not. Long lonesome journeys teach one to keep good company with none around. You get used to it."

"Been on many journeys I'm assuming?"

"A good few yes."

"Ever been to Harad?"

"Yes. Where the stars are strange. It's a beautiful land, strange, but beautiful."

"That's where Gethin's looks come from. Through his mother I'm told."

"Yes. I can tell."

"Brandon always hated him for it."

"Well, Brandon is a fool."

"No argument there. Sorry about Gethin's behavior. He seems to be mellowing out." Lana sighed.

"He has had a hard time. I don't blame him."

"Of course. I forgot. You have a soft spot for lost and cast off things, don't you?"

"Well, I sympathize with them."

"Hmm. So, where else have you been?' She wanted to distract herself.

"Many places."

"Ranger, you must know that's not a satisfactory answer. You may be silent most often, but I know you can tell stories. Barliman used to say you could tell a right good tale when you had a mind to."

"aLright. I served in Rohan, served the king, and in Gondor I served the steward, led many men. They called my Thorongil."

"Wait. You served the men over whom you are the rightful king? Doesn't that sting your pride?"

"No. I'm not a king yet. And they were men high in honor. It was an honor to serve them. And a leader should serve first before accepting a crown. In a way being a ruler is about serving the people, protecting them, and that is what I have done all my life. So if I ever do become king I will have learned well."

"Heh. Well, you're wiser and more patient then me. It would sting my pride, and I'd end up wanting to lord my high blood over them."

"Well. You are young."

"And of an entirely different nature then you ranger. Don't forget that."

"Maybe so. But when I was young, I was more proud. I tempered it, but still. I learned. Everyone does."

"Not everyone."

"True."

"Hmm. So you've had adventures. What did you do while serving the steward?"

"Well. I fought the corsairs of Umbar."

"Really? Your stories must be something."

"So I'm told."

"They called you Thorongil. Damn, how many names do you have?"

"A good deal."

"Right. Exactly how many? Strider I know, thats the name I called you in Bree. Heh, never would have guessed I'd sit in an elf house with you one day. And Estel, and Aragorn. And now Thorongil. But what other names?"

"I've been called many names many places. To many to remember now. Though I could if I had time."

"So. When did you fall in love with Arwen then?"

"First time I met her."

"So what, as a child?"

"No. She was living with her mother's kin during my childhood. And somehow I never heard tell of her until the day I turned twenty, and learned of my birthright. I saw her that day, and fell in love. A foolish young man's love."

"Wait, how had you never heard of her?"

"Time passes swift for the elves."

"That doesn- Oh never mind. So when did she fall in love with you?"

"Oh, years later. Before that, shortly after I first met her, My mother, Gilrain, and Elrond, they both guessed. And told me not to pursue her. I left for the wilds. Foolish as it sounds, I loved her all of those years, and could never look at any other. I held her in my heart, and over the years that silly little love grew. I met her again in Lorien, the land of her mother's kin. And the love that I had held finally ripened, and became something more then a boy's fancy. And her heart was turned towards me. So we pledged our troth. But I may not to marry her until I claim my birthright, if that time ever comes."

"That's...a story. Very pretty actually. Like one I would have told Ailith. But it doesn't have an end yet."

"No..."

"It will though. And I'm sure it will be a pretty one."

"Maybe so. I hope." He smiled sadly.

"Don't worry. You're cut out for all of this kingly business, and all of the dramatic tales." She smiled back.

"Sometimes I wonder. Look, the sun is high in the sky. I've talked far to much. Strange. I rarely do that. I'm not used to telling so many details of my life. It's a bit disconcerting."

"You're probably just paying me back. After all, I've told you far to much about my life. I figure you owe me. It also might be this place. Seems to relax tongues."

"I suppose so."

"You are much more mysterious and frightening as Strider, you know that?"

"Maybe so. Imladris is a tonic that frees my tongue it seems."

"Fancy elf magic I suppose."

xxxxxxxxxx

Brandon stared down at Adlyn's broken form. The faces around him were dim with horror. He lifted her. She would be hideously scared. Good. A lesson. What a pity, she had been such a pretty thing. Almost reminded him of Beruthiel. He had lost them all. Wife and sons, and second wife. He and Beruthiel had lost their first son, before Becket was born. He had been six, with his mother's dark hair. Such a pretty boy, so lively. Brandon still remembered the blood on his son's small marred face. He looked at Adlyn, her small face bloody now as well. A cycle of blood , never ending. Beruthiel had never forgiven him, or herself. And thus had more blood been born. Never ending. So be it. He would continue the cycle. Everyone who had betrayed him, who had wronged him, their blood would flow. Come what may. The circle would go on and on.

So yeah, hope y'all liked it. More to come, though updates may be slow this week:)