Thank you for reading a Golden Dawn, and much thanks you all the recent reviews! My heart sings! I know it can be confusing at times, this was really a fun experiment to see how something like this would work in fanfiction form, but I hope the next 9 chapters bring everything to a close. Following the completion here, I will post the same story, but in chronological order. Cheers UM

Fall of 2065 The night as of An Uncertain Evening/A Princess in Their Midst.

The deep dark of the evening had settled into the valley. The sliver of the fall moon made the homely house glitter in its pale light and it seemed to blend into the hills and crests of the rivers mountain fold as if it were a part of the great ancient cleft. Its presence was given away only by the orange fires that flickered in the windows of the great hall. Tonight, the messenger realized, was the fall feast for these elves, he had timed it perfectly, for few eyes would be on him when he entered the city. He pulled his cloak tighter about his shoulders and peered behind him, hoping he had not been followed, that he had not been seen in the black of the night by unwelcome eyes.

He moved down the path towards the valley, and came at last to the bridge that led into Imladris and he bowed deeply to the guards who stood silently before him. They watched the hooded figure, and he showed the soldiers his empty hands, a message of peace, then drew back his hood.

"I am Lord Daeron of the woodland realm." He said lifting his head higher, trying to seem of greater importance. He looked down his nose at the soldiers and sneered. "I have come to see your Lord Elrond, I bear matters of great importance."

The guards glanced at each other and whispered swiftly in a tongue the horseman did not recognize. After a moment the guards looked to him again and spoke.

"Were you sent by his majesty King Thranduil?" One said, stepping forward and gripping the hilt of his sword a little tighter. The action did not go unnoticed by Daeron.

"I sit on the council of his majesty, and my message has need for silence and swiftness. Take me to your lord." He said quickly.

The elves hesitated at first contemplating the words the messenger brought, for an unease was upon them. The did not wish, however, to send away a Kings messenger, especially so if he bore important words for their lord. Therefore, the guards lead him forward, across the bridge and through the quiet corridors of Imladris. So it was that the messenger slipped into the city unseen, for all of the elves celebrated and feasted for the fall celebrations and the coming of winter, and Daeron's kin knew not of his presence in the homely city.

The Noldor guards placed the wood elf in the chamber of the Lord Elrond, and gave him food and drink and bid him wait. And so, he did, and as he waited his mood darkened and the miles he had traveled set into his skin and filled his hollow bones with weariness. Daeron sat in the shadow and seethed in the hate and grief that flowed through his veins. He Let the lies and trickery that had deceived his King nourish his resentment. At last, he thought, at last the wrongs against his house, against his people would be righted. All the Noldor had ever done to his people was slay and ravage them and now they sought to rule. Their greed unquenchable, their lust for power always unfulfilled. And now the time had come to expose her for what she was.

When at last Lord Elrond came Daeron shot from his seat and bent into a low bow and a muttered 'my Lord'. He hardly dared to make eye contact with the ancient elf before him, and felt the eyes of the wise one burning into his person.

"You come to me in secret and silence carrying words from his Majesty." Lord Elrond spoke slowly. "Tell me, what have you come here for Lord Daeron."

Daeron felt the words sink into him and rattle his weary bones. His mind raced and he could not think of where to begin in all the treachery that he had seen. How could he make Lord Elrond understand what had happened through the ages. He tried to stifle his swift thoughts, but then at last he settled and spoke.

"My Lord, I come not from the King, but from my own choice. For your niece carries an ill will, and desires much power. I fear for ruin, and terror should she reign as she aspires to. I have come to tell you that she is a traitor to the Noldor and the wood elves alike, and means usurp the crown of the Silvan elves. Itarilde is a murderer, with blood of eldar on her hands. She deserves no crown, nor glory. She should be banished, sent off into the night to drown and walk the halls of mandos. She is no better than the dark beasts of this earth, and yet calls herself Princess, and desires to be a Queen by any means."

Lord Elrond watched the elf before him, and listened carefully, for the messenger had much hate and hurt in his heart, and this was plain on his tongue. Yet, the Lord thought, his words rang true. Unede was a thief, a traitor, and for many centuries he had thought that her actions were for more gain than she let on. Had she not stolen the gift of Yavanna, the Elfstone and betrayed the trust of her Grandmother? Perhaps it was she who whispered lies into the ear of King Thranduil, and turned his heart against the White Council. Perhaps the seeds of discourse were planted by Unede, to grow in the soil of Dagorlad, and putrefy the already rotting relationship between the elven communities. Oh yes, the old Lord thought, she played a long and patient game. "Speak Daeron, speak plainly and tell me what you have seen. Tell me, does my young niece seek to be High Queen and steal my birth right? Tell me of all that has gone on in your land."

Daeron took another drink and lifted his eyes to Lord Elrond who stood before him bathed in amber fire light. The flames glimmered and slipped about his hair like a terrible crown that left only a hint of the great king he should have been. Then the silvan elf took a deep breath and spoke the to the Lord Elrond his twisted words an age in the making.

"She came," Daeron said, "as a child, barely of her second cycle. She came begging to the gates of the King, having had betrayed the Noldor then and stolen the elfstone. But King Thranduil had seen through her guise, he knew that Unede had meant to sew distrust between the Kingdoms of the Silvan and the Noldor. So his majesty returned the stone, but kept the Noldor's Princess, since her father hailed from his Kingdom it was his right. Often the King of the Woodland realm would keep closest those which brought unease to his heart, for he desired their treachery to be under his eye."

He paused for a moment and began again "Right he was, our King, for it was Unede who had pressed for war in the South when she had been made captain. She who had sent hundreds of eldar to their deaths on the ground when they could have been safe in the trees away from the orcs and evil things. She has taken my own son's life, a kinslaying that should doom her. She sent our armies away from the safety of the mountain to concur some small sorcerer in a broken tower, all to weaken us, as if she knew what would come, as if she knew King Amroth would die. For when word came that the King of Lothlorien had crossed the veil, Itrailde spoke into the King's ear, and twisted his mind to allow her Kin to rule his rightful Kingdom. Did you know the captain sent a letter to Galadriel, a letter saying that she would unite the eldar of middle earth, and that the white lady need only be patient? She has twisted the mind of our King, She means to take Eryn Galen with honey, and to take Imlardis with poison. She give's your men our weapon to undermine your leadership, and turn their loyalties to her. Unede comes here to your land and lies to you, when already you have banished her for such treachery before. Do you not see her spirit is of the same fire as her kin? Do you see she will burn all that we have built and lead us to death and doom so that she might bear a crown over a broken peoples and call it victory? Banish her, slay her, send her away, but let her tarry neither here, nor in our woods. Let her go and find the same fate as her dear friend Nimrodel. Perhaps her name too should be deceiver, and not the morning star."

Elrond watched the silvan elf before him for many minutes. He studied his manner, his arched and tired frame, saw the sadness that settled deep in his fea. Daeron's soul whispered of an old hurt, and a treachery that spanned an eon. Elrond saw to elf's mind race and twist and perceived the shadow that lay upon him.

Then Elronds mind turned to the rug of lies that hung before him. For if what Daeron said was true then Unede had trimmed and tailored colors and patterns that strung into an intricate picture of heroism and victimhood. 'Where was his nieces' heart' he wondered. 'did she wish to be High Queen? Did she wish for more than that? Perhaps it was not her intent that mattered at all, but her actions.'

"She is so lost in her own mind that she knows not the intent of her actions." Elrond muttered. "She is sick with lust for revenge, and war, and has not yet realized that her blood desires more than captainship and King's counsels. It is a dangerous road, to not know one's self."

"Yet that is her intent." Daeron spoke up "She see's that you rule with the authority of High-King, but knows her claim is better, for Galadriel has rights, and The Lady has not refused them. Nay, Galadriel makes claim over Lothlorien, and usurps the title my King deserves. And forgive me Lord Elrond, but are there not those who say that your claim not valid for Idril denied her crown and title. And are there not some who would deny the rule of one who was named only Vice-Regent by Gil-galad?

"Aye, this is so. But few would raise their voice to deny my claim."

"Then why not put an end to this madness." Daeron said desperately. "Name yourself High King, and banish her from elven lands. She will bring death to my people, and already we have had enough. Call Galadriel and the wondering companies here, and give us the lands to the east. End this madness."

Elrond turned to the elf sharply and met his gaze. He felt the desire of Kingship spread from his chest, and flow through his body, and he stood a little taller fueled by the desire to call himself Majesty. But a shadow then came onto him and he felt the eye of an ancient power whisper his name, and the tendrils of darkness creep to him and lick his ankles. "Would I dare to tempt the Dark Lord with that cursed title." He whispered.

"Then let her tempt him. Banish her and let her go and seek him out." Daeron whispered, stepping more closely to the Lord and shrinking a little before his stature. "Let her tempt Sauron, let him slay her and all will be ended. She desires death, give it to her. Name her High Queen, and let him come for her blood. He would come back for her, his spirit is not slew. Let him come, let him come and kill her."

'fire' Lord Elrond thought 'aye her fea was a flame fanned by the winds of history.' The ancient elf watched the wood elf before him, then with a wave of his hand dismissed him and slumped into a chair.

'fire indeed' the words slithered through his mind, and he recalled the conversation he had with his eldest son only hours before.

'Those wood elves are naught but trouble father, Unede among them' Elrohir had said in a fury. 'You should be King, You have a better claim through the blood of Thingol! You should rule the elves of middle earth. Gil-Galad united them, and named you his Vice-Regent. Through our mothers blood our claim is strong!'

'You think Unede desires to rule my son?'

'I think everything she has done is cold and calculated father. She come's into her power now. She is no longer a youth. Look at her, look at the way those elves follow her every move, she is loved, and she knows it, and she is patient. She could claim Queendom over the Silvan, and the Sindar and the Noldor and no one would stop her, not when her fathers blood mingles with ours. Galadriel may even aide her, they are all set against you.' Elrohir insisted stubbornly. "It was all in that letter father-she told Grandmother that she had convinced Thranduil to let her be a Lady, and that one day she would Crown herself. Unede has stated her intent. It is known, and we must stop her. She is a danger to us father both in her desire for our crown, and in her dark spirit- she is to violent to rule."

'The elves of Lorien desire a King more than a Lord and Lady, there may yet be more truth to your words than you realize son.' He muttered.

'Thranduils claim over Lothlorien was stronger even the Lord Celeborns. Orophir was Amroth's brother.'

'You think the King of the Woodland Realm is weak my son?'

'Yes I think he is weak, and Unede sits patiently until she is stronger, then She and Grandmother will unite, and we will have no choice but to bend the ancient crowns that will sit atop their heads!' Elrohir pounded the table before him. 'We should use her father, use her and be rid of her. I am your son, You should be High King! You should rule the elves of Middle-Earth, and I am your rightful heir.'

"Speak plainly son."

"Wed her to some small Lord here, get her away from the ear of the King, and the temptation to destroy some small necromancer- it will lead us all to ruin and doom. You have heard the words of The White Wizard father, we have nothing to fear from sorcerers and shadows. Her campaign is a farce." Elrohir shook his head and turned fiercely to his father. "We must make our move before she does. Think of the great cities we could build like the days of old, the elves could thrive again, our time is not yet done. We need only be bold father. We needs a wise leader."

Elrond shook the thought away and stared into the flames as the stars moved across the sky above him. And so it was that his guards found him, and bid him come to his Nieces chambers, for they had, apparently, another unexpected guest.