Furius: I really love your story "In Shock" you must continue you it!

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Chapter 5 – Council at Imladris (Part I)

Anariel mounted a white horse offered to her by Gil-galad riding close next to Gildor. Her eyes did not meet that of Elendil nor that of Isildur she was still in no mood to speak with either of them. Once again she were her red and gold-gilded cloak with the heralds of Minas Anor and Isildur his blue one with the silver herald of Minas Ithil. There were heralds accompanying them, they were all elves but some of them with friendship to Elendil and Isildur offered to uphold the banners of mortal lands. The flags of Lindon, Gondor, and Arnor flew in the wind and ten guards holding shining spears and wearing the heralds of the king also rode by them. Soon Gil-galad rode forward to join them wearing golden armor and a deep blue cloak woven with silver stars.

Blood upon a golden sword with the wings of a swan spread over its hilt and blood upon a golden cloak that shimmered alive with a million shining stars…Anariel shivered at the sight and Gildor noticed her discomfort and gave her a look that said 'all is well.'

"Are you ready friend?" Gil-galad asked Elendil. Anariel looked out toward the vastness of Eriador wondering how long it would take to get to Imladris, trying to imagine what it looked like.

"Ready indeed!" exclaimed Elendil, "Now, shall we ride or have we any other matters to wait for?" Gil-galad smiled.

"We shall ride indeed!" He said "To Imladris!" He called out and off they went the King of the Elves leading them. From up high on the battlements of the walls of Lindon other heralds sounded their trumpet at their leaving and elven folk watched in anxiousness as their king left toward council.

Anariel was glad to be riding, glad for the wind whipping at her cloak and hair, and glad that she could distract her thoughts elsewhere. She kept up with the heralds and stayed close to Gildor glad for his company above all else. For all other company seems sour, she thought.

She sighed inwardly taking in the great blue of the sky as it wedded the eastern horizon of green valley and wood far off from her sight. Her father and her brother wanted to keep her locked up forever in some tower and Gil-galad? She really didn't know what to think of that nor had any words to describe what it was she felt when she was around him. At the beginning I felt at ease but then when I discovered who he was… no more… Was it his title then that frightened her?

He is an elf, of the fairest of people, immortal and unfading, I cannot love him! Her mind argued in itself. Love? Why am I speaking of love now? I have lost Riordan and I barely know Gil-galad and yet the word 'love' comes to mind? Anariel thought that perhaps grief was making her mad and she was doing things unlike herself. Perhaps I only seek the warmth that I have lost, that is why I am uncertain about him…

But she hadn't acted that way toward Gildor. Then what am I feeling towards him?

She soon found that she was forcing her horse to surpass Gildor and she came up next to Isildur who looked at her and Anariel saw the apology in his eyes. He is my brother, she thought and with that thought came Anarion's face to her mind as well, I can not bear a grudge against him for long he will go to battle soon. Anariel smiled at Isildur in familiar amusement and he smiled in return relief in his eyes that she was not angry with him.

For many miles they rode hard. They passed farmland and forest, villages, and settlements. By night fall they had reached Amon Sul and Gil-galad bid their horses to slow. Anariel gazed at the great tower on top of the hill. Watchmen wearing the colors of Arnor stood about it sounding their horns and welcoming their lord, Elendil.

"We shall rest here tonight and continue on tomorrow," said Gil-galad, "Because I'm sure the horses have gotten enough exercise for one day." He added.

"And I could use a cup of ale." added Elendil. Isildur smiled.

"Aye." He agreed. The tower warden, Galion, welcomed them and the squires took their horses as they dismounted. He bowed before both Elendil and Gil-galad.

"Welcome lords, we are honored to keep you as guests here in Amon Sul, for a long journey is ahead of you tomorrow." He told them. It seemed to Anariel that news of the council reached far and wide. Elendil nodded toward him and they continued their converse. Meanwhile, Isildur had approached Anariel hesitantly.

"You are not angry with me?" He asked. Anariel sighed twining her arm with his.

"I was thinking of Anarion," she said softly, "And the more I think how easily I could lose you the more petty anger seems to me." Her emerald eyes met his silver ones for a moment and they held it in mutual understanding.

"I am sorry." Isildur told her honestly. Anariel shook her head as they trailed behind Gildor and the others.

"Do not be," Anariel told him, "You care for me as fiercely as I care for both you and Anarion. I know very well you would die for my sake just as I would die for yours." Isildur placed his arm tightly around her shoulders and kissed her quickly on the forehead.

"I know that as well." He whispered.

*

There was a great feast in the tower hall that night. Elendil and Gil-galad were seated in high places of honor and Isildur and Anariel with them. Galion and the other guards and their captains entertained them as they spoke of old times, of war, and of things to come. There was laughter echoing through the walls of the tower and the smell of wine, mead, and food was thick in the air. Some local minstrels played dancing tunes in the corner. "Shall I have this dance?" asked Isildur with a grin holding out his hand. Anariel smiled.

"Indeed, my lord!" She said and so they danced enjoying their moment of peace before the morrow came.

*

Gil-galad watched as brother and sister danced fondly on the ground below. Elendil leaned back as well as he watched them but a shadow flickered across his gaze, "I pray Anarion is well." He said quietly.

"My friend," said Gildor next to him, "If anything has happened to Anarion since the time we left Osgilliath and by the time we reach Imladris we would have known, or will know, take peace a while and know that for the moment Osgilliath still stands." Gil-galad knew the other's thoughts as he looked at Elendil's expression. But at what cost? Gil-galad sighed deeply.

"Who else do you suppose gained an invitation to the Council at Imladris?" asked Gildor trying to change to a brighter subject even though the prospects of the council's discussions were not that bright.

"The elves of Lorien and Mirkwood, certainly." said Gil-galad, "And of course the men of Gondor and Arnor, as well as ourselves." Elendil's creased his brow.

"What of the Dwarves?" asked Elendil. Gildor nearly choked on his drink and Gil-galad laughed for the first time that night.

"The dwarves?!" asked Gildor his voice hitting a high pitch in surprise.

"My friend, if there be any dwarves who would arrive to such a council, if the Lady Galadriel did send any invitation, then it would be to Durin's Folk from Moria." Gil-galad replied though his mind entertained the thought if there were to be any dwarves.

"I would like to place a bet on this!" Gildor told him. Elendil cocked an eyebrow.

"With your High King?" he asked. Gil-galad raised his hands in defense.

"I was only speculating!" Gildor smiled at the other. Elendil looked on amused taking another draught of his drink.

"Indeed? And yet your voice seemed quite sure that there were dwarves involved…" Gildor said raising an eyebrow. Gil-galad leaned in close to the other across Elendil.

"You would place a bet with someone far older than you, Gildor?" asked Gil-galad some mischief in his eyes.

"Faugh! Indeed!" exclaimed Elendil, "Even I find it unwise to place a bet with Gil-galad."

"I'll dare for the sake of amusement only." said Gildor. "But what should be our stakes?" Gil-galad leaned back in his chair grinning wondering what he could possibly do with the representative of Imladris if he won. But I am going to win… he thought… my speculation is usually far from wrong.

"I smell trouble coming your way Gildor of Imladris." Elendil warned in jest.

"If there should be dwarves at the Council, Gildor, then you shall have to publicly claim your love for Elrond." Gil-galad told him grinning. "And I don't mean the love between a servant and his master." Now it was Elendil's turn to choke on his drink at the thought and the older man laughed heartily. Gildor gaped at the elven-king for a moment then smiled.

"Well in that case," said Gildor, "I say that if there be no dwarves at the council then you should dress as an elven maid for a night while we're there."

"Glory to Aman!" laughed Elendil, "Either way this should be interesting, though I cannot see Gil-galad wearing the gown of an elven maid at all."

"What is so funny?" came a familiar voice from behind them. Anariel wrapped her arms around her father from behind him and Isildur sat by Gildor. Elendil looked up at his daughter, to whom he had not spoken to since their argument. Gil-galad was happy that they had finally decided to make amends with each other.

"Nothing in particular." said Gildor, "But just let us say that you shall see when we arrive at Imladris." Gil-galad smiled catching her eyes once more but then teared himself away again. This is torment, thought the elven king.

Elendil shook his head, "Elves do not cease to amaze me."

*

That night Gil-galad walked silently up the high tower to the top. He had heard Anariel wake and leave her room and wondered where she walked off to. That is an excuse, Gil-galad scolded himself, you want to be in her presence again, to speak with her. He came up to the top, and saw her leaning against the stone walls. Her sillouhette shined in the silver light of a waxing moon and she wore only her night shift and her gray wool robe. Her red hair was let loose, unbraided and unkempt and Gil-galad walked up slowly not wanting to disturb her thoughts so soon since he had a feeling she knew what they were.

She was facing southeast, toward Osgilliath.

"He shall be well, my lady." Gil-galad said softly as if answering to her thoughts. She didn't turn around and neither did she make any sign that she was startled.

"I know." She said quietly.

"You cannot sleep?" He asked as he approached her slowly and stood next to her looking out, his elven sight already catching the peaks of the Misty Mountains and he thought for a moment that he felt the shadow beyond them. Oropher must be fighting hard. His thoughts stretched out to the King of the wood-elves of Mirkwood. Somewhere deep in those forests his people fought the orcs and the wargs and other evil things that lied there. I wonder if he too shall be at the Council, if it is possible for him to arrive…

"Nay, I cannot." She said quietly, "I fear for Anarion." Gil-galad sighed deeply.

"I too have those across the eastern border that I fear for." He told her. "There is another kinsmen among elves, Oropher of the place mortals call Mirkwood. Sauron's forces have already invaded his lands and it has been long since I have heard from him and even for Galadriel of Lothlorien I fear." Anariel tightened her cloak around her whether from cold or from anxiousness he did not know. Her eyes were cast down once again. Gil-galad could not take her behavior toward him anymore. He put a hand upon her shoulder and lifted her chin.

"Why is it that you tear your gaze from me, my lady?" He asked her and then managed a smile, "You say my eyes are too radiant to gaze upon, but alas! If they glowed I would be made easy target for every enemy nearby!" Anariel smiled at him and once more he felt light-headed about her.

"My lord, you shine too brightly, and for that reason one must know you well not be blinded by your brightness." She answered him softly.

"Then perhaps we should come to know each other," Gil-galad said though a warning came from behind his mind as her gaze held his with some fear behind it, "As friends for I love my friends and I would have you be among them, Anariel." Why do those sound like extensively stubpid words for an elf? And out of all elves how am I at a loss of words?

She was beautiful and strong of will and from that moment Gil-galad realized he desired her. I am falling into her gaze…and methinks that she is falling into mine. He glanced at her lips for a moment.

She was so close and he could feel her breath and hear her heartbeat and it was beating as fast as his own. She slowly pulled his hand away from her chin and turned her gaze away from his.

"I should go back to bed." She told him softly. He smiled sadly at her for it seemed they shared a single thought: This cannot be.

"Goodnight, my lady." Gil-galad said kissing her haid softly. He could see the struggle in her eyes, emotions, and he could feel the beat of her body as well and it was as his own. Yet she managed to make her way out down the steps and from his sight and from afar where Gil-galad focused his hearing her heart beat quicker than before.

She was evading him and he well knew the reason why, it was the same reasons he tried to fight off his own feelings for her. He leaned upon the towers walls his long white blond hair falling over his shoulders. This was indeed torment.

"Aniron-lye, Anariel." [I desire thee, Anariel.]  He whispered softly and then he realized that some madness had come over him at last.

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