Author's note: Thanks so much you fine bunch for all your lovely comments! I must apologise for my slackness of late, been a little unwell. But as always, I am of the firm belief that things can only get better from here! The best is yet to come :D Hope you all are drinking your water, doing your happy things, and staying as well as possible right now.
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We didn't emerge from my quarters until mid-morning the next day, waking up in the same position we were in when we'd conked out the night before. I opened my eyes and felt relieved to be energised again; after having gone so long without feeling tired, irresistible though it was at the time, the exhaustion that had stolen me into unconsciousness had become quite foreign and retrospectively unpleasant.

Glorfindel stirred shortly after, lifting his head and turning over to face me. He rested his chin on my shoulder and looked dreamily up at me.

"Good morning, spouse," I said through a grin, jittering a little in excitement.

"Ooh!" he trilled in delight as he shuffled up to eye level with me. "Spouse! Yes, indeed!" he said ecstatically as he planted kisses over my face.

After a handful of minutes in which we fangirled over our newly married status, we resolved to depart the bed and commence the long overdue start of the day.

"Ah, beloved," Glorfindel began after we had washed, starting to pull on his tunic, "I wonder if you might retrieve a set of robes for me from my quarters." He gestured at the robe he had worn yesterday, and I laughed.

"Gladly," I replied with a nod, "but I must say, I am astonished that the walk of shame would exist here when you consider that the purpose of our nuptials was essentially to announce to the populace we were going to bed each other."

Glorfindel went silent, his eyes wide. "My goodness, when you put it like that, you're quite right."

"Even so, though, I'll return shortly," I said, still tittering to myself as I left him standing there, tapping his lips pensively.

When I returned with a set of lavender robes and Glorfindel finished dressing, we made our way to the kitchens to see if any of the chefs would take pity on us slugabeds and favour us with a morsel or two of food.

We were about to knock on the door when we heard the footsteps of someone hurtling down the corridor in our direction. Looking up, we caught sight of what appeared to be one of Legolas' right-hand Elves. I vaguely remembered her from my visits to Mirkwood. Though we never spoke much, she was always a very personable, relaxed type, so to see her running like this was odd, to say the least.

"Sidhiel! My goodness, what's wrong?" I asked as she stopped dead in front of us.

"I seek Prince Legolas," she said between gasps. I was shocked. Elves did not tire readily, so she must have been running for days on end to be panting like this.

"We'll take you to him," Glorfindel said quickly, and the three of us beetled off to check the places he was most likely to be. He was in none of them. We decided to try Elrond's study, running into Legolas on the way there. He was walking unhurriedly with Bregedúr, Elrond, Celebrían, and Olórin, and when he saw Sidhiel running over to him, his expression quickly morphed from a smile into a look of confusion.

"Sidhiel? What are you doing in Imladris?" he asked her when she reached him.

"Your Highness, Amon Lanc- an evil presence has taken over it."

There was a moment of horror-struck silence. Amon Lanc, the capital of Oropher's (now Thranduil's) realm, lay at the southern border of the forest. Though it lay a goodly distance from Mordor, separated by the vast Brown Lands, it wasn't a large enough distance for my liking.

Legolas asked Elrond, "Could we possibly avail ourselves of a less public space?"

"Of course," said Elrond, gesturing in the direction of his study. "Please go ahead to the study."

Legolas nodded in thanks, and said, "I think this is news you all should hear, so if you have the time, perhaps we should proceed together."

After a sudden influx of nods from all present, we entered the study and sat down. Elrond passed Sidhiel some water, which she took gratefully and drained in seconds before launching into her report.

According to Sidhiel, the entire population of Amon Lanc had been displaced within a day. She had little information to offer as to exactly what sort of culprit made up the evil presence. Only that its apparent name was the Necromancer, a moniker which inspired as much confidence as a ponzi scheme brochure. Where it came from or whom it was associated with (if anyone) was not mentioned, though I got an Occam's Razor-esque hunch that Sauron was at the helm in some way or another. That close to Mordor, with nothing else around, and Sauron's been at the heart of the discontent around here for thousands of years? I mean, gee.

The latest report she had to pass along from Thranduil was that all the residents had abandoned the place and fled to the northwest, along the Forest River that separated the top quarter of the forest from the lower parts.

Nothing was said for a moment, as everyone presumably started thinking of what to do. An event like this had so many wide-ranging consequences that it was hard to know where to begin with it.

Bregedúr and Legolas, naturally, had to depart immediately. Before they left, we had decided on two things: first, to send assistance in the form of food and building supplies (and, incidentally, troops)- in instalments only, so that we could be sure that any hostile forces loitering around wouldn't take the lot. Second, to form a group to consult with Galadriel and Celeborn, due to Lothlórien's proximity to Amon Lanc.

Within minutes, Bregedúr and Legolas had left with Sidhiel.

Elrond looked at Celebrían. "I imagine we should be the ones to go to your mother and father." She nodded, and then Elrond glanced at Glorfindel and me. "I am sorry to ask this of you immediately after your wedding, you two," he said in a regretful tone, "but you are both very valued advisors-"

"Say no more," said Glorfindel holding up a hand and smiling. "Of course we will attend."

"We wouldn't have it any other way," I affirmed, nodding happily.

"I wonder," piped up Olórin, "if I might also be allowed to come. I intend to make for the Gap of Rohan while the weather is fine, and it would be well to know what risks await."

Seemed legit.

We agreed to depart together early the next morning. That gave us just enough time to hurriedly arrange for the relief.

By next morning, we'd gotten the ball rolling enough that we felt confident enough to depart, leaving the ever-capable Erestor in charge to keep things running smoothly.

I was rather excited to be travelling to Lothlórien and also vaguely surprised that after having lived this long, I still hadn't ever been there before. I travelled on official business much less than others did, mostly because I was loath to leave the clinic for too long. This meant that my time off usually took the form of camping trips in places less than a week's ride from Imladris. On this occasion, though, I had no option but to depart, so I figured I might as well enjoy myself.

The five of us journeyed at a fairly brisk pace, sharing quiet relief that this was all happening in early summer, since it meant that the Pass of Caradhras would still be traversable on the way back. Cold comfort to the Elves of Thranduil's realm, no doubt, but for us, it was a small mercy.

Around the halfway mark, we started seeing evidence of the 'presence' Sidhiel had mentioned earlier.

"Does anyone else see that slight discolouration out there?" I asked as I pointed in the direction of Amon Lanc, where a blip of grey, barely bigger than a grain of sand, floated on the horizon.

Everyone but Olórin squinted as they focused where I was indicating.

"Mmm," murmured Olórin, with a nod glancing at me uneasily.

"Barely," said Celebrían, Elrond and Glorfindel mumbling some sort of assent.

I heaved a worried sigh that it was visible from so far away and we rode on.

Over the next days, the grain of sand grew into the size of a small coin, which then became a whole banknote. The greyness didn't so much obscure Amon Lanc like mist, but more dyed the sky around it like a monochrome aurora borealis. Whatever was in there, it was seriously nasty.

When we were some 50 kilometres from the forest one night, I sat up with Olórin and chatted quietly, the others sound asleep.

"I am sure Sauron is behind this," I said to him quietly in Valarin as we sat cross-legged near the glowing remains of our campfire. I glanced out at the dark grey light, which contrasted against the violet evening sky like death on velvet. It was the first time I had ever uttered that to someone, and I felt my lip curl in disgust as I said his name.

"We cannot be sure," he replied heavily, gently prodding an ember with a stick.

I frowned at him. "No, not entirely," I conceded, "but all the same, I am as certain as I can be."

"Do not be in a hurry to dive into conflict with whatever—or whoever—this is, Rhodri," Olórin warned, failing to keep the hint of nervousness out of his voice.

"Do you say that to keep me from being rash, Olórin, or to comfort yourself with the idea this is a smaller foe with less power?" I asked with a small smile.

Olórin smiled back. "I say it with the belief that we are probably both right," he said grimly.

"Well, what would you call a reasonable waiting period, then?" I prompted. "Almost the entire population of Mirkwood has been made internally displaced. At what point do we draw the line?"

He sighed. "I do not know," he responded. "I have a feeling the time will present itself soon enough, but I am certain it is not now."

We looked at each other for a moment, saying nothing. I was dissatisfied with Olórin's answer, and I could see in his face that he was, too. As if we had shared the thought, we both nodded. The conversation having reached a natural end, I nodded goodnight to him, which he returned and got up.

I went over to Glorfindel and lay down beside him. The tiny noise of the shifting grass roused him just enough to turn over and drape his arm over me, resting his head on my chest. I glanced out at the grey disturbance in the distance (Amon Lanc, so we're clear, not Olórin), then down at my peacefully sleeping spouse, and allowed myself to wrap my arms around him and nod off.

The next day passed without anything remarkable until the late afternoon, just before we were to set up camp. Olórin saw him first, a way off the path out to the right.

"Curumo!" he shouted out, waving to him.

I had been watching the river, playing a game of spot-the-fish with Celebrían, but by god, I looked up sharply now to see the irksome prick I had thought we were well and truly shot of for the next few centuries, riding a white horse.

"Wanker," I muttered under my breath.

"What is a wanker?" asked Celebrían, looking at me curiously as Curumo returned Olórin's wave and we rode over to meet him (naturally, he would never have deigned to come to us). Glorfindel had turned around now, too, and was keen to learn a new word.

"It's a term of respect for the head wizard of a group," I said offhandedly, willing myself with every fibre in my body not to roar with laughter. Fortunately, they did not ask any further questions as we stopped in front of said wanker/head wizard.

"Olórin, greetings," Curumo said with a nod of the head. Olórin looked much more pleased to see him than vice versa. He displayed a little more interest, however, when Elrond and Celebrían were introduced as the Lord and Lady of Imladris.

"Very well met, my Lord, my Lady," he inclined his head with a deference that forced me to swallow back a gag.

"Curumo, have you any news of Amon Lanc?" Olórin asked, gesturing out at the blight out on the horizon.

"I have not," he replied, seeming a little displeased that he was talking with Olórin and not simpering at Elrond and Celebrían. "I had been travelling north for some time and was due to go even further up, but some people I had met on the way spoke frequently of a disturbance in the south-east, and so I changed direction to inspect what it was they spoke of."

Uh oh. If there was one thing I didn't want, it was for Curumo to start trying to get into Sauron's pants. Not this early into the piece, and especially not when Curumo, according to Olórin, was extremely powerful. An alliance like that now would have done damage that I shuddered to think of.

"In which case, Curumo," I spoke up, "perhaps you should come with us first. We are making for the woods of Lothlórien, where we shall seek counsel from the Lady Galadriel. It would be most foolhardy to rush into anything with whatever dwells at Amon Lanc at present."

Olórin glanced at me and I knew I'd hear about doling out his advice as though it were my own later on. I watched Curumo carefully, awaiting his reply. I hoped that I had painted him into a corner; he was keen not to appear the ignoramus. Making it seem as though doing anything but allow himself to be waylaid by us was sheer folly would hopefully make him feel obliged.

"I see," Curumo said, his face expressionless. He paused a moment as if weighing his options before nodding, and said, "Yes, very well. In which case, I shall accompany you."

With that, we hit the path again, and I said nothing more until we reached Lothlórien late that night. We were met by Haldir at the edge of the forest, who took us through the trees to Caras Galadhon, which had to be the most surreal place I had seen to date.

Illuminated in the light of the full moon was a huge hill covered entirely by trees, which looked like a colossal, leafy beehive. The closer we drew to it, I could see tiny beams of a gentle but penetrating turquoise light coming out through the gaps between the leaves.

Oh, but actually entering the beehive. My breath was robbed when I stepped inside. The networks of mallorn trees that had been trained and carved out to form stairs, walkways, rooms, and balconies were stunning—it all outdid the beauty and majesty of Thranduil's halls by a factor of ten. The source of light at this time of the evening seemed to emanate from the flowers that sprang up everywhere, whose petals glowed with otherworldly bioluminescence. Many of the Elves were clothed in white, and most had silver hair, which shimmered like starlight as they strolled gently about.

We were led up a staircase that wrapped around the largest tree in the place and seemed to go on forever. It was enclosed in white, carved lattice work that would have taken anyone but the Elves a lifetime to complete.

"Greetings, Rhodri," I heard a familiar voice in my head. I smiled gently. Though we never really sat down alone for a chat (they were usually busy with Elrond when visiting Rivendell), I liked Galadriel and Celeborn very much.

"Hello, Galadriel," I responded happily. "Nice to speak with you again. My apologies for the lack of notice. Beautiful place you have here, by the way."

I heard a small laugh, and then all was silent except for the noise of us climbing the stairs.

Eventually, we reached the top where Galadriel and Celeborn awaited us, their soft smiles and friendly greetings making their already light features all the brighter. An ease seemed to settle over the rest of us after that, except for Curumo, who seemed only more fascinated and energised than ever in the glance I stole at him.

When we all sat down together and started conversing, it became rapidly apparent that Celeborn (who, curiously, did most of the talking) and Galadriel knew much—even more, in fact—than what we had heard from Sidhiel. In the time between the invasion and now, a new name had already been given to Amon Lanc: Dol Guldur, the hill of dark sorcery. I started internally telling myself off for constantly looking at Curumo, but I couldn't help it. He reacted, albeit subtly, at the mention of dark sorcery. He asked questions occasionally, but not too often. I worried that he was starting to pick up on his own behaviours and was fine-tuning them to create a more plausible façade of innocence.

I didn't want to ask any questions that would only fuel his curiosity, so I remained silent throughout the discussion. It was apparently a rather conspicuous silence, though, because Celeborn spoke up as the conversation started to draw to a close.

"What say you about all of this, Rhodri? You have not spoken more than a few words since arriving," he asked, watching me closely. The eyes of everyone went onto me, and I was not pleased to be put on the spot like that.

"I do not know enough about the topic to say more than a few words, my Lord," I said respectfully.

I glanced up at Galadriel, who was looking at me with even more scrutiny than her husband. Her jewel-blue eyes scanned me with an almost childlike curiosity, and without even speaking in my head, I made it clear to her that I wished to speak with her alone later. One quick blink later, and I knew she had understood.

Celeborn looked dissatisfied with my answer. "Surely you must have an opinion on it one way or another."

I let out a puff of air as I cracked my knuckles. I did not want to reveal too many of my thoughts about Sauron at the moment, and his name had not been mentioned thus far, so I had to structure my ideas in a way that concealed it.

"Well, certainly," I answered. "I think that at present, we know too little to make any sort of a move we could be entirely confident in. Personally, I would like to ascertain levels of risk through a short period of observation, relying on reports from Thranduil's forces alone to see what this Necromancer intends to do next. I would not advise that Lothlórien or any others send scouts or forces to investigate, otherwise this will put our interest on open display. Nor should Lothlórien send any special assistance, because of the proximity to Dol Guldur, where such activity would inevitably be noticed and possibly waylaid."

This answer seemed more pleasing to him. With the exception of Curumo, who watched me with that same expressionlessness as before, the others appeared to agree with my watered-down opinion.

The talks drew to a close shortly after, and at Celeborn's invitation, the ground started to make its way to the dining hall for refreshments before bed.

"Go on ahead," I said to Glorfindel quietly. "I'll join you a little later."

He smiled at me warmly, nodded, and with a gentle touch on my shoulder, stepped out with the others, leaving me and Galadriel sitting by ourselves.

For a minute or two, we said nothing as we waited for the sound of footsteps to disappear completely.

"I appreciate you waiting, Lady Galadriel," I said when I was sure we were alone.

She watched me in fascination. "I could not read your heart," she said quietly. I chortled inwardly. Being unable to look it the minds of others was not something Galadriel, perhaps the most gifted of any Elf in ósanwë and divination, was accustomed to.

"I couldn't afford to let my thoughts be accessible at that point," I admitted. "One among us, I do not trust, but I have complete confidence in you."

Galadriel looked thoroughly intrigued now. "You are not what you seem, Rhodri."

"You're half right," I said with a laugh. "I am as foolish as I look, but you are correct in that my appearance is not wholly authentic. It is for your own safety and comfort that I assume this form, though."

"A Maia," she murmured under her breath, giving me another once-over with her eyes.

"Indeed. Vinyaten was my name, but I would appreciate it if you continued to call me Rhodri. Share the information with Celeborn as you wish, but keep it secret beyond that, if you please."

She nodded quietly, waiting for me to speak further.

"I did not say everything I wished to at that meeting, and I will not be open as long as Curumo is present," I began. Galadriel watched me placidly, and I began explaining my conjectures about Sauron's role at Dol Guldur and Curumo's dangerous fascination in the occult practices.

"For now," I said, "I do not think Curumo is harmful, or even has openly bad intentions, but only because he has not had a chance to indulge his curiosity in the evil arts yet. Once he does, I believe it will pose incredible risk to all of us." I didn't say anything more for a moment as I let her take it all in.

She blinked serenely, and then nodded a little. "In which case, we must keep him close, but also at arm's length. Perhaps his behaviour will change."

"We can hope," I conceded, "but it seems unlikely. I think you're absolutely right, though, that we watch him closely and tie him up in our plans to an extent. With any luck, it will at least buy us time to prepare should he turn on us."

"Indeed," she mused. There followed another long silence in which she glanced at me once or twice.

"Something troubles you," I broached.

"It does, but it is not concerning this—not entirely, at least," Galadriel answered slowly. "Celebrían told me some time ago of your counsel for her nails."

I glanced down at her fingers, which looked perfectly fine, and caught myself wondering if she was battling a toenail-biting habit.

"If you think you might like to speak with me in my capacity as a psychologist, let's have a quick chat about how I keep things private and what you can expect of me first," I said. She accepted, after which I started to tell her about ethics and confidentiality. About one minute into my explanation, I noticed she had zoned out.

"Lady Galadriel?" I waved a little, and she snapped back into it, nodding quickly. This was very out of character for her. In my experience, she had always been very switched on and inclined to be a healthy participant in conversations. Naturally, people have their off days from time to time. To be quiet all night was one thing, and I knew my Ts and Cs spiel was boring, but for such a private person, that she had suddenly spaced out was curious, to say the least.

"I need to be sure that you understand the conditions under which I provide my services before I can proceed, so don't be afraid to stop me if you need a moment to process what I'm saying."

We continued through the disclosure with one more pause, after which Galadriel signed the dotted line (I had taken to carrying blank forms in my backpack these days).