I am so sorry for not updating soon! I've been gone on an orchestra trip for my school and only got back yesterday. Hopefully I will now be able to update more often, but with the due date of an English project coming up, who knows?

Just in case you haven't already guessed, here's a warning for you: THIS IS NOT A HAPPY STORY! If you think it's too much now, it's only going to get worse.

But for those of you who enjoy stories like this, enjoy!

************************************************

Then he fled to Barahir, and of companions his he was the most fierce and desperate . . .

(Silmarillion, Of Beren and Luthien)

************************************************

When Gorlim awoke once more, he found himself alone. Beren was no longer sitting beside the cot, but the hum of men conversing floated in from the open flap of the tent.

Gorlim lay for a moment, unable to move. He still felt rather dizzy, and he gripped his head firmly as he arose slowly from his reclining position. Noticing that he was in unfamiliar attire, most likely borrowed from one of the companions, he scanned the area inside the tent, and found his garments draped over a makeshift chair in the corner of the tent.

Grasping the edge of the cot, Gorlim pulled himself to his feet. Though he swayed a bit at first, he soon found his balance and found also that he could walk without falling. As soon as he felt ready, he stumbled over to the chair. He grabbed his clothing, prepared to change out of his current garb, so as to not keep what was likely to be one of the only sets of clothing of whomever it was who offered their own to him.

He then caught sight of the little silver bracelet lying atop the clothes.

Immediately, just as it had before, the grief he felt for Eilinel rushed up in surge, ready to swallow him whole, and the lightheadedness forced his legs to buckle. He fell to the floor. But this time, instead of allowing his mind to be drawn into the dark void waiting for it, Gorlim closed his eyes tightly, forcing the dizziness away, and concentrated on retaining his hold on awareness.

As a few minutes passed, so did some of the overwhelming sense of anguish. Soon, he was able to stand on shaky legs, and compel himself to walk out of the open flap of the tent.

The moment he stepped out into the bright sun, the companions who were gathered there immediately halted their discussion, and turned their eyes to him. Gorlim, uncomfortable under the scrutiny of so many curious gazes, continued striding passed the group, his steps growing steadily stronger by the minute.

It was not long before he discovered that another was following him. He turned around to find himself face to face with Beren, who was trying valiantly to hide his concern.

"Are you alright, my friend?" He asked quietly.

Gorlim faltered for a moment, and then took a deep breath. He finally replied, "Yes."

*************************************************

The next morning, Beren awoke to find Gorlim missing. Knowing the fragile state his friend was in, he hurried out as quickly as he could, fearing the worst. However, he was quick to find that nothing was wrong; or at least not that he could see at the moment.

Gorlim stood still as stone beside the shores of Tarn Aeluin tossing stones haphazardly into the blue waters. His stance was slightly worrying to Beren, as it reminded him of how he would find Gorlim each morning before he had gone to try to visit his wife. Beren was not sure of what exactly had happened, but having seen his friend's reaction after waking, and after hearing Gorlim whisper his wife's name, he knew that something terrible had happened. However, Beren was reluctant to bring up the subject, for he feared what effect it might have on Gorlim. But now, Beren simply sought to comfort his friend, but to do so, would mean that he would have to know what it was that threw Gorlim nearly off the edge of insanity.

He strode over to Gorlim's side, but if Gorlim noticed his presence, he did not acknowledge it. He simply continued scooping up stones from the banks and hurled them into the lake, causing ripples to disturb the stillness of the water as they hit the surface.

Beren shuffled his feet nervously before saying, "Um . . . are you feeling any better, Gorlim?"

Gorlim's face did not change, as he replied bluntly, "No."

"Oh," Beren responded, slightly taken aback at the brusqueness of the statement. "May I inquire what it is that troubles you so?"

Gorlim, halfway through throwing another stone into the lake, suddenly brought his arm all the way around so that the stone slammed into the ground. "My sleep was disturbed by nightmares, if you must know!"

Beren decided to shrug off the sudden anger in his friend; he understood that Gorlim was going through a difficult time. "Perhaps it would make you feel better to confide in a friend what they were about?"

Gorlim's hand hesitated before lifting another stone, as he replied, "I dreamed of Eilinel." He paused, but seeing that Beren would not leave him be until Gorlim told all, he continued. "I saw it again. Our house . . . destroyed, and . . . Eilinel . . . she was gone, you see." Gorlim sank down to the rocky ground, taking a deep breath. "I couldn't find her . . . not even her body. She was gone . . ."

Gorlim's head dropped into his hands. Beren laid a friendly hand on his arm, about to offer some consolation, when Gorlim pulled suddenly away from his friend's touch. He stood, forcing vicious words through clenched teeth, "When I find out who took her . . ." The thought trailed off, but not before conveying the fierce message it carried. Gorlim spun around, and walked briskly back to the camp, leaving a dumbfounded Beren behind.

*******************************************

The twelve men of Barahir crept stealthily through the woods of Dorthonion, night shadows swirling about them. They were scouring the land to be rid of a wandering band of evil men that one of the companions, returning from scouting the area, told about. The evil men worked for Morgoth, and therefore posed a threat to Dorthonion, which the men sought to protect.

There had been some controversy in Barahir's mind on whether or not to allow Gorlim to come along on the mission. His mental state was clearly unstable, and allowing him to take part in fighting may cause harm. However, leaving him behind could prove disastrous. Barahir did not want to leave him alone, and therefore would have had to leave another behind with him, but Barahir needed every fighter he could get, knowing that although they could handle the band of evil men, many other dangers could possibly befall them.

Eventually, if Gorlim's condition did not improve, would he be forced to ask him to leave the group? No, he could not afford to have someone formally a part of his band wandering the woods of Dorthonion, not to mention one who was possessed a frail mind. The secret of Tarn Aeluin had to be protected.

Suddenly, Barahir noticed that the shadows of the trees were growing darker around them, and were moving strangely coordinated . . .

"AMBUSH!" He yelled, alerting his companions to the danger. They all dropped into fighting stance.

Beren, drawing his sword in the blink of an eye, ducked under the swing of curved steel and proceeded to defend himself from his attacker. He did not enjoy taking lives, but it became clear that Barahir's men would not win without killing a few of the enemy. He brought his sword down on his adversary's, disarming him, and hoping that doing so would coerce him to admit his defeat. However, the evil man did not give up so easily, and immediately leapt on Beren, knocking him to the ground pummeling him with his fists. Beren threw him off, but when he saw that his foe was prepared to attack again, he was forced to run him through.

Beren wiped sweat from his brow, and jumped to his feet, looking around for the rest of his companions, and ready to fight for them if need be. Though he saw that they were hard pressed, it was clear that the enemy did not expect such strength in so small a group. Many were fleeing, and others lay down their weapons.

Like lightening, the thought of Gorlim slapped Beren in the face, and he quickly searched the area for his friend. For a moment, fear gripped Beren for Gorlim was nowhere to be seen.

But then, Beren was relieved to spot him, apparently unharmed, but still fighting. Gorlim was advancing on a foe, cornering him against a rocky outcropping. The enemy, clearly seeing that he could not win this fight, dropped to his knees and threw down his sword, drawing his arms up over his face. Beren sighed, but his relief was short-lived.

To Beren's utter shock and horror, Gorlim completely defied any morality he had ever had to his name. Gorlim grabbed the discarded rapier from the forest floor, and placed the point of both it and his own sword at the warrior's chest. Then, ever so slowly, he drove the blades into the man, smiling cruelly when shrill, pain-filled screams filled the air. When his adversary's screams died, and his body went limp, Gorlim pulled his own sword out, and wiped the bloody tip on the dead man's clothing.

Leaning down, he whispered in the deaf ears, "That's the reward you receive for supporting the one who took Eilinel away from me."

If he could have, Beren would have asked Gorlim if he knew for sure who had taken Eilinel, but the expression on Gorlim's face smothered any words before they could take form.

TBC