Chapter Four

[Westron]

Ilitha couldn't help feeling a stab of guilt for what she was about to do. The elves had been so kind to her, and she was about to destroy their family.

For the price of her own.

Not that she had a choice, really. But she wished she could do something to make Betrayer's job a bit more difficult. Not enough to warrant his wrath on her family, of course. But hurt to herself she could endure.

The tempting smells wafting from that night's dinner were barely registered by her numbed brain. She clutched the green vial in her hand, staring apprehensively at the silver goblets on the tray that was meant for Lord Elrond and his family. One of the goblets had a minute scratch near the rim, marking it as the one she was to put the poison in. Her hands shook as Betrayer whispered steadily into her mind.

Still she could not move.

~*~

[Language of the Istari]

Gandalf was slightly taken aback at the amount of power his still-unknown opponent was using. He was much stronger than the Grey wizard, and had obviously planned every move meticulously.

But the Istar always had a wild card or two up his sleeve. They had won him many a game in the past, and he now had one advantage over his opponent: trust. Unlike the powers of the darkness, Gandalf personally knew the pieces on his board, accounting them friends dear to his heart, instead of pawns for his game. He knew their hearts, their natures, and knew what they would do in a given situation. Well, most of the time. As a result, Gandalf didn't need to exert himself manipulating them, but used his energy instead to protect them as best as they could. After all, he had been sent only to guide, not govern, and in the end it would be his pieces that would decide the fate of Middle-Earth, and would have control of it when he left.

My, my, he certainly is breaking a few rules, to say the least. His opponent would definitely suffer the penalties later on; the Game had a life of its own, and strictly adhered the players to its obscure Rules.

At the moment though, Gandalf took advantage of the momentary suspension of the restrictions on him. It was the break that he was looking for. The Game was fair, and as the hidden player had broken the Rules, it now allowed Gandalf a small move that the other player could not see. So the Istar decided to turn the tables, and use his Enemy's tactics against him.

It was a gamble. For a brief moment, he was in the tortured mind of his opponent's key Piece, the Mover of events, the Game called them. Truly a gamble, but his years of living with mortals have taught him the power of a single soul when it is allowed to change fate. His opponent wouldn't suspect it, wouldn't know until it was too late. Murmuring the ancient verse, he offered Ilitha the Choice.

"Your mind is free for this moment," he whispered to her. "Look before you, and choose."

She would not remember her choice, or even having to make one. The thought was little more than a whisper, a faint memory of hope to a soul stripped of life.

It was enough.

~*~

[Westron]

The vile poison dripped into the goblet.

The elf, Harnannen, stood watch nearby. She- or rather, Betrayer- had assured him that it would only make its victim sick for a while. He was one of Betrayer's many spies, or so Ilitha could determine. But she wondered if he knew for whom he was truly spying for. Deceit was Betrayer's best weapon. She remembered that his words had sounded fair and wise to her, once. It was Betrayer's way, and the reason for her name for him. His voice seduced the soul, offering fair wisdom and seemingly wise counsel, and in the end you would discover that you were completely under his power. The worst part of it was that you had let him in; he had said once: "I cannot enter an unwilling soul." For her, it had been her desperation to save her children, so much so that she had been willing to sacrifice everything.

In the end, she watched her son being beaten bloody by orcs, and left to the wolves. She saw the pain and hurt of betrayal in his eyes as he saw her stand there as he was ripped apart, not knowing her helplessness as she was trapped in her own body. That had broken her, and now she cannot even take her own life, for Betrayer had threatened to kill her other son if she did. And what of Harnannen? How did Betrayer reach his soul? It seemed that not even the immortal children of Eru were immune to the evils of the world. Perhaps the Shadow was truly winning…

Nay, it will not win me completely. I will not surrender yet.

As she exited the kitchens, Harnannen closing the door behind her, from the corner of her eye she saw Estel watching them. Betrayer, exulting in a part of his plan being successful, didn't seem to notice. Another stab of guilt. Not only will Lord Elrond suffer the loss of his eldest son that night, but will have to condemn another of treason, and possibly death. Harnannen was to see to that.

I'm so sorry.

~*~*~