~*~* A/N: All right, things are starting to heat up. Please enjoy and reveiw! *~*~
Minyalonnwen stormed from the Royal chambers, her face wracked with anger and rage. How dare Galenavarien be so nonchalant about such matters? Her mind was askew with mad thoughts. She stalked past the Royal Guards, her eyes ablaze. None dared to stop her.
Annifrid paused at the entrance of the Guard's Room. She peered in, seeing it empty, and then opened the door. She crossed the small room to the Weapons closet, and opened it. She rummaged through, picking up several swords, axes, and knives. She did not hear the door open behind her.
"What are you doing?" demanded Imgaeriel, approaching her quickly. Annifrid dropped the excess weapons, and held a sword out to show the higher guard.
"My sword was broken in the last orc attack," Annfrid lied, closing the door. "I need a new one."
Imgaeriel nodded grimly, and then shrugged. "Do not be frivolous," was all she said, and then sat in a chair.
Annifrid sat across the room, inspecting her new sword.
"Have you heard of the Saurcal's meeting?" asked Imgaeriel, watching the half-elf closely for a reaction.
"Meeting?" asked Annifrid, swallowing thickly and looking up. "Nae, I have not."
"Minyalonnwen believes they seek to rebel," said Imgaeriel, laughing bitterly. "All the Saurcal should be killed."
Annifrid nodded, looking down. Then Minyalonnwen did know of the plan, and that meant most of the Luinalation did as well.
"Minyalonnwen says some lesser-elves have joined the Saurcal in this devilry," the higher-guard added, glaring deep into Annifrid. "So you had better be careful. We would not want any to accuse you of treason, would we?"
Annifrid raised her eyebrows, glaring back at Imgaeriel, a challenge in her voice. "Are you threatening me?"
The larger, stronger elf stood, staring down at Annifrid. "We shall see." She then turned and stalked from the room. Annifrid watched her leave, growling softly. She then turned back to the Weapons Closet, and completed her task.
Rinatarien stood, watching out the window of the hut. Outside she saw a figure move quickly in the darkness.
"Someone is watching," she said softly, and Strider looked up from his seat on the floor.
"Who do you think it is?" he asked, and Rinatarien squinted her eyes.
"It is a Lostlotiel of some sort, for they wear the clothes of Warriors." It was then that Annifrid opened the door and slipped in quietly. She placed a large satchel, full of knives, axes, and swords, onto the floor, and approached Rinatarien.
"We must move quickly," she said quietly, glancing out the window. "Minyalonnwen knows of our plan, or has at least guessed at it. As does Imgaeriel."
Rinatarien's eyes widened. "Minyalonnwen knows," she whispered, looking out the window. "We are all in grave danger."
"Imgaeriel has threatened me," said Annifrid, also peering out the window into the night. "Just now, in the Guard's Room."
"Did she see you take the weapons?" asked Rinatarien.
"Nae, I collected them after she left."
"Nonetheless, we must move very quickly. Every moment we wait is a moment they have to plan a defense," said Rinatarien, her eyes deep with thought.
"Where is Ringathradiel?" asked Strider suddenly, glancing about.
"She left to get water," said Rinatarien, then her expression turned puzzled. "But that was nearly an hour ago. She should have returned by now."
Minyalonnwen grinned to herself as she watched Ringathradiel depart from her hut. She followed her, seeing that she carried two buckets, and decided that she must be heading toward the pond for water. Her hand drifted to the hilt of her sword as she followed her into the night.
Ringathradiel glanced about. The night seemed deathly quiet. Something was wrong, different. She carried the two buckets down the path, toward the pond where she had first come across the Fellowship. Dipping one of the buckets into the cool water, she straightened, hearing a twig snap behind her. She pretended not to notice it, as she set the bucket down. Her hand slowly clutched her sword.
Minyalonnwen watched Ringathradiel from the brush, grinning to herself. Drawing her sword quietly, she began to advance on the Saurcal.
Minyalonnwen stormed from the Royal chambers, her face wracked with anger and rage. How dare Galenavarien be so nonchalant about such matters? Her mind was askew with mad thoughts. She stalked past the Royal Guards, her eyes ablaze. None dared to stop her.
Annifrid paused at the entrance of the Guard's Room. She peered in, seeing it empty, and then opened the door. She crossed the small room to the Weapons closet, and opened it. She rummaged through, picking up several swords, axes, and knives. She did not hear the door open behind her.
"What are you doing?" demanded Imgaeriel, approaching her quickly. Annifrid dropped the excess weapons, and held a sword out to show the higher guard.
"My sword was broken in the last orc attack," Annfrid lied, closing the door. "I need a new one."
Imgaeriel nodded grimly, and then shrugged. "Do not be frivolous," was all she said, and then sat in a chair.
Annifrid sat across the room, inspecting her new sword.
"Have you heard of the Saurcal's meeting?" asked Imgaeriel, watching the half-elf closely for a reaction.
"Meeting?" asked Annifrid, swallowing thickly and looking up. "Nae, I have not."
"Minyalonnwen believes they seek to rebel," said Imgaeriel, laughing bitterly. "All the Saurcal should be killed."
Annifrid nodded, looking down. Then Minyalonnwen did know of the plan, and that meant most of the Luinalation did as well.
"Minyalonnwen says some lesser-elves have joined the Saurcal in this devilry," the higher-guard added, glaring deep into Annifrid. "So you had better be careful. We would not want any to accuse you of treason, would we?"
Annifrid raised her eyebrows, glaring back at Imgaeriel, a challenge in her voice. "Are you threatening me?"
The larger, stronger elf stood, staring down at Annifrid. "We shall see." She then turned and stalked from the room. Annifrid watched her leave, growling softly. She then turned back to the Weapons Closet, and completed her task.
Rinatarien stood, watching out the window of the hut. Outside she saw a figure move quickly in the darkness.
"Someone is watching," she said softly, and Strider looked up from his seat on the floor.
"Who do you think it is?" he asked, and Rinatarien squinted her eyes.
"It is a Lostlotiel of some sort, for they wear the clothes of Warriors." It was then that Annifrid opened the door and slipped in quietly. She placed a large satchel, full of knives, axes, and swords, onto the floor, and approached Rinatarien.
"We must move quickly," she said quietly, glancing out the window. "Minyalonnwen knows of our plan, or has at least guessed at it. As does Imgaeriel."
Rinatarien's eyes widened. "Minyalonnwen knows," she whispered, looking out the window. "We are all in grave danger."
"Imgaeriel has threatened me," said Annifrid, also peering out the window into the night. "Just now, in the Guard's Room."
"Did she see you take the weapons?" asked Rinatarien.
"Nae, I collected them after she left."
"Nonetheless, we must move very quickly. Every moment we wait is a moment they have to plan a defense," said Rinatarien, her eyes deep with thought.
"Where is Ringathradiel?" asked Strider suddenly, glancing about.
"She left to get water," said Rinatarien, then her expression turned puzzled. "But that was nearly an hour ago. She should have returned by now."
Minyalonnwen grinned to herself as she watched Ringathradiel depart from her hut. She followed her, seeing that she carried two buckets, and decided that she must be heading toward the pond for water. Her hand drifted to the hilt of her sword as she followed her into the night.
Ringathradiel glanced about. The night seemed deathly quiet. Something was wrong, different. She carried the two buckets down the path, toward the pond where she had first come across the Fellowship. Dipping one of the buckets into the cool water, she straightened, hearing a twig snap behind her. She pretended not to notice it, as she set the bucket down. Her hand slowly clutched her sword.
Minyalonnwen watched Ringathradiel from the brush, grinning to herself. Drawing her sword quietly, she began to advance on the Saurcal.