Disclaimer: Anything you don't recognise is mine and everything else belongs to Tolkien.

A/N: Another chapter for you after that long absence! Hope you all enjoy it! Thanks to all those who have reviewed, and please keep doing so! They give me an extra incentive to write, so if you are enjoying the story, its in your interests to click the button and make my day!

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The room appeared empty, but a small noise to her left drew her gaze, and she saw there was a doorway with another room branching off the one she was presently in. Taking advantage of the moments alone, she cast her eyes about the room. It was sparsely furnished, but the objects that were present were obviously of careful and skilful craftsmanship, particularly the carved marble plinth in the corner. It had a glass dome on the top, and something was contained inside. She was about to move closer to it, when a figure entered the room. The shock at his sudden and shocking appearance almost caused her to drop her concentration, and for a moment the form she was holding flickered, although thankfully, the figure before her had looked down at his desk to pick something up.

Galwyn inhaled slowly and waited several moments before speaking; making sure that she had a firm hold on herself. But the more she looked in utter surprise at that which stood a few feet away, the more appalling it appeared and when she did open her mouth, no sound came out.

For there, standing tall, slender and proud behind the large polished wood desk littered with maps, rolls of parchment, and other things she could not name, stood an elf.

Casting his eyes briefly over the map he was holding in his right hand, the elf absentmindedly looked at her, and she could a glint of something not quite human, or rather, elven, in his eyes, which although ice-blue in colour, seemed to display the red flickering of flames in the pupils. Those piercing eyes were displayed in a face so perfect in its beauty that for a moment Galwyn wondered if a spell had been cast on her. But what was more shocking, was that his face seemed familiar somehow, the facial shape somehow familiar to that of Elrohir and Elladan's… The elf's skin was almost translucent in its paleness and flawless in complexion. His hair hung smooth and shining to the centre of his back and was a strange colour somewhere between blonde and silver, so that as he moved, it too flickered between the different shades. It took her several moments of silence to notice that the look in the elf's eyes had quickly become one of irritation and she spoke hurriedly, praying her concentration would cover up her sudden nervousness.

"I…err…have a message for you, Sir. From Nablung." The elf nodded, his expression cold and unchanged.

"So Lasdrun said. Well, get on with it then! I do not have all day to waste."

"The raid was highly successful, and based on that, Nablung decided to extend the journey and press on further into the Dale." She lied, hoping she had remembered all that the orcs had been discussing about their expedition. But the elf seemed satisfied with her answer and sat down, steepling his fingers underneath his chin, a small smile dancing across his lips.

"Excellent news. Before long, we shall have all we need…" He said absentmindedly, leaning back in his chair.

Galwyn stood still, watching him, rapidly wondering how she could discern some more information. Suddenly, the elf's eyes refocused on her, and a deeper expression of annoyance flashed over his face. "Why are you still here? Leave!"

"Yes, Sir, but Nablung wished to know how long he can continue before he is needed back. That is to say, he is awaiting your reply of when you plan to carry out…" She tailed off, trying not to sound unsure, but rather in awe of the being before her.

"Carry out the attack? I should say a week. That gives him time to take another few villages. And then…" He paused to smile thoughtfully, apparently to himself, "And then Mirkwood had better be ready." The horror of his words shook her to her very core and she was not able to suppress the shudder that ran through her. The elf was looking at her rather strangely, and she took the opportunity to bow and turn to leave. As she did so, her gaze fell on the glass dome of the marble plinth. From this angle she could see its contents, and, just when she did not think she could be any more shocked, she was. For there, lying in a small, open wooden box was the counterpart of that which was currently housed in her pocket. She had found Vilya.

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Elrond was deeply frustrated. It had been many days since he had awoken, and even though he was well aware that he was not yet strong enough to leave his room, the knowledge did nothing to quell the impotence he felt. When Glorfindel came to his room later that day, he found the dark-haired elf sitting up, listlessly turning the pages of a book that he did not appear to be reading.

"How are you feeling today?" He asked, trying to make his voice sound as cheerful as possible. Elrond did not look up, but sighed, closed the book quietly and dropped it on the bed covers.

"A little stronger, I suppose." He said finally, and the blonde walked over to his bedside and pulled a chair over to sit beside him. He gently took Elrond's face between his hands and his green eyes searched the grey ones in the face before him. After what felt like a long time, he released his gentle hold and dropped his penetrating gaze. Standing up, he walked away from the bed towards the window, leaning on the ledge with both hands.

"Elrond, there is nothing you can do in this state, it is folly to feel as you do." He said quietly. The Lord of Imladris allowed a small, sad smile to flicker across his face at the depth of his friend's perception.

"I can never hide things from you, can I, Glorfindel?"

"Maybe you could if you were a little better at actually hiding them." He replied with a wry laugh, before pausing, then continuing once more in his solemn tone. "I am serious, my friend. You are not doing yourself or your state of health any good by lying there and wishing you could do something."

"But what else can I do? Do not tell me you could forget if you were in the position I am in? You know as well as I do the danger I am in. If Vilya is destroyed…"

"Do not speak of 'ifs', Elrond. I am not asking you to forget, but to accept. Everything that can be done is being done…" Glorfindel interrupted, only to be interrupted in turn by his Lord.

"But not by me! I just wish I could do something, that is all…" His voice tailed off, and his gaze moved to where his greatest friend now stood before him, his green eyes shining with love and concern. Glorfindel retook his seat by the bed, and tenderly clasped Elrond's hand.

"I know, and you will, just as soon as you are better. It will not be long now. You must just trust in those who are helping you." A brief smile graced the dark elf's face and he chuckled softly, eliciting a puzzled look from his friend.

"Now I know how my patients must feel." He stopped suddenly, and looked over towards the window. "Can you do one thing for me though, Glory?"

"Anything."

"Help me over to the window? It would do me much good to see the forests again." Glorfindel considered for a moment, then nodded and smiled.

"Of course." Smiling, Elrond pushed the covers down, and slowly swung his legs over the side, revelling in the fact they did not feel half as weak as they had done when he had tried before. He was wearing loose trousers of blue silk that whispered coolly against his skin, and nothing else, for his whole lower torso was still encompassed by a crisp white linen bandage. His hair, unbraided, but shining from much careful brushing by Glorfindel, hung poker-straight and loose to the middle of his back, its abnormally dark hue contrasting with the paleness of his skin and the dark blonde of the other elf's hair as he gently helped him to his feet, one arm supporting him and guiding him across to the window seat. As Elrond settled himself more comfortably on the cushions, Glorfindel pushed the windows wide open so the sunlight and fresh air streamed into the stuffy room. Then he made himself comfortable next his lord, and they sat in companionable silence, trying to ignore that which was eating away at both of their hearts.

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After she had returned to the camp that night, the first thing Galwyn had done after speaking for some time, and in great detail, with Gandalf and Celeborn was to go the stream, and follow it until it widened out into a small pool. She needed desperately to scrub her body clean of the horrible thing that it had been turned into. It was as if she could feel the remnants of the disgusting orc form still on her, and she shuddered as she remembered all she had seen. She had been almost glad to hear that Elrohir was on a patrol in the surrounding woods because she was not sure she could face him while she felt so dirty.

Hastily divulging herself of her clothes, she walked slowly down to the edge of the bank, looked into the water to gauge its depth, and, judging it easily deep enough, dived in smoothly, barely causing a ripple as she slid under the surface. The icy touch of the water was enough to leave her gasping for breath as she broke the surface of the pool, flinging her hair out of face, but she revelled in it, feeling it revitalising her and helping to return her to her own frame of mind, erasing the horrors of her day.

Her body gradually began to adjust to the temperature of the water and ceased its shivering as she swam round and round the pool.

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When Elrohir returned with the patrol, he learnt that she had returned, and, after he had found out that she had gone for a walk, resolved to find out what had happened before he went after her.

He sought out his grandfather, who was sitting, apparently lost in thought, by the stream. The younger elf went and sat next to him, not speaking, but knowing his presence had been noted, although the silver haired elf's eyes had remained closed, and waited for Celeborn to come to the end of his train of thought. After several minutes had passed, he opened his eyes and turned to his grandson, a neutral expression on his face.

"You wish to speak to me about something, Elrohir? Or do you merely seek a place for pensiveness as I have done?"

"I wish to know what it was that Galwyn found out today. Has she found the whereabouts of the ring?"

"Indeed she has."

"Then who has it? And where is it? When can we get it?"

"Slowly, Elrohir! One question at a time! To answer them in order, I will say that we do not know who it is that is in charge at Dol Guldur, except that it is an elf."

"An elf?" He exclaimed in shock. "But why would an elf be…"

"Corruption," Celeborn interrupted, "can appear anywhere. A weak, or weakened, mind can be easily turned." Elrohir nodded slowly, but did not reply, and Celeborn continued. "In answer to your other questions, the ring is in the tower, in the possession of this mysterious and, as yet, nameless elf. Tomorrow night, Galwyn will go and, hopefully, retrieve Vilya, which she will then bring here. She does not believe it will be a difficult task, as she plans to enter and leave through the window, which will obviously not be guarded. But, from what she has told us, it also transpires that there is an attack planned on Mirkwood in about a week's time. Gandalf has already sent word to Thranduil and Legolas, which they should receive today, and no doubt they will be more than ready for it, but Galwyn has suggested that she return to the tower after retrieving the ring, and try to discover more about the plans for this attack. Apparently there are all manners of maps and the like which may be of great use to us."

"Have you spoken with Daromir and Lysandil?"

"Yes, we have. Yesterday evening. They were half expecting it, and assured us that with both their father and Legolas in charge, their forces would be under the best command possible."

"And she will do all of this tomorrow night?"

"Yes, we cannot afford to waste any time. And besides, if they do find out that the ring has been exchanged tomorrow, it may not be safe for her to return."

"How on earth did she manage to find all of this out?" Elrohir asked incredulously.

"By taking on an orc form, and claiming to be a messenger for the leader of the group we fought and killed. She remembered the name of this orc, Nablung, I think it was, and used it to her advantage. In this way, she gained an audience with the master of operations in Dol Guldur…"

"This elf?"

"Yes, and in his study, no less. That is where she saw the ring."

"I see. And did she describe him?"

"Ethereally fair of face, pale skinned and light haired."

"That could be any Lórien or Mirkwood elf, they are all like that." Elrohir said with some disappointment.

"Indeed. She also said that there seemed to be flames burning in the pupils of his eyes, a sure sign of corruption by the darkest of all the dark powers."

"Then we are not dealing with a mere orc and human rebellion…"

"Indeed not."

Elrohir went silent for several moments as he digested the information and it was Celeborn who spoke first.

"And how are you coping, Elrohir? Is it becoming any easier?" The younger elf sighed, and absentmindedly placed a hand over his heart.

"I am not sure…I think it may be becoming a little easier, but it is hard to tell, for right now, it still pains us greatly." Celeborn smiled wryly at his choice of words. Each twin knew implicitly what the other was feeling, for he was feeling it too. Their bond was strong, everyone knew it, and he knew that a parting, if it came, would cause more pain than either could imagine…

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