A/N: Yay! Exams are over! Finally I get some free time this weekend. Four day weekend! [hops around looking very happy] Yeah, so I went to see TTT again today with my cousin. Much fun abound. And she's sleeping over aswell, but she's raelly tired because she had another sleepover last night. Say hello Jessie! [JK flaps hand lazily, muttering gibberish somewhat to the effect of: Stop bothering me] Wave back everyone! Ok. Anywayz, this chapter should be longer then the others. I don't know yet, because I haven't written it. All I can do is hope. R&R!!!!!!!!

Disclaimer: I own nothing. So there! Nyah!

Chapter Ten

It rained heavily again. It seemed winter was finally upon Gondor, and had decided to never give folk any reason to believe otherwise. The cobblestone streets were awash with pelting water, what few trees and shrubs there were thrown around mercilessly by the howling, biting wind. A great chill settled over the city of Minas Tirith, leaving the mornings to be cold beyond anything anyone could remember having felt before in their short, or long lives. Folk were often left with the great desire to stay inside and hibernate, even though there was still much to be done, and Hasana was one of the many who were very grateful they didn't have any pressing matters to attend to. She could simply sit in bed all morning if it suited her, watching outside glumly into the bleary, grey sky.

This certain morning however, when Hasana woke, she was gripped with such a despairing chill that sitting in bed and doing nothing was quickly out of the question. She rose and dressed, trying in vain to ignore the great shivers striking up and down her spine every few moments. Her stomach was a knot of worry, and she paced relentlessly around her large, spacious room, ordering various objects to rise into the air and follow her around just for the sake of doing something. Hasana could tell that Eldarion's plan would begin to take shape that day, and couldn't help but feel utterly hopeless and anxious.

After her last meeting with Eldarion, Hasana was completely sure that something was going to happen, something that involved her, and the other man, Nathaniel, her….brother. Hasana could only think of one thing she was useful for, and that was her craft. Folk like her were rare. Some believed they were of the Istari, but Hasana knew that was far from the truth. She was no wizard. She may have had powers, but that didn't necissarily mean that she was one of the Maiar, one alike to Mithrandir of the Tale of the One Ring, or of the White Wizard Saruman. Her kind were different in every sense of the word, and could never hope to be a part of any race. They were set apart, and would always be that way, which made them very valuable to those in search of power and domination. If someone like Eldarion could persuade one of her kind to join on his side, there would be nothing out of his reach. The Istari were indeed more powerful in terms of force, but Hasana's kind were more powerful in terms of subtlety, of subterfuge, and of knowing things that the Istari could only dream of.

The fact that Eldarion was using both her and Nathaniel in his venture, was not a comforting thought in the least.

Her insides a knot of worry, Hasana approached the large glass doors leading out onto her small balcony, placing one palm against the cool surface. Through the dark she could see down onto Gondor, where most houses' windows were lit with a faint orange light, flickering bravely against the storm. Not more than a handful of men were scurrying about in the streets, holding cloaks tightly about them to protect their clothes from being soaked through, carrying large loads or driving carts and wagons through causeways and market squares. Out in the fields beyond the last gate, a dark shape shudered against the wind, a cluster of tents pitched in a close circle where men-at-arms waited to be dispatched. Hasana almost felt sorry for them, out in the storm, away from family and friends. But no matter how pitiful she felt, Hasana could not forget what they were waiting for, what they would do if they were asked.

Unable to look any longer, Hasana turned away from the doors and sat down at her vanity, resting her chin upon one hand. She gave her reflection a worried look, her brow creased, lips ever so slightly pursed. She looked pale, and a little sick too. Hasana had never eaten much anyway, but as of late, her appetite had faded considerably. It was unwise to stop eating completely, Hasana knew that of course, but she just didn't have the heart anymore. With Cigry locked away in the dungeons, she had seemingly lost herself. She didn't feel like she once had; serene, calm, wise. She almost felt…..like she had been before, before everything had happened, before Bren, before Lothlorien, before Cigry. Like a youth, an ignorant, oblivious, naïve little girl, who believed that good always won and bad always lost.

She almost didn't remember it anymore, her previous life, with its stories, and dancing, and warm hearths where you would sit in your mother's lap and forget all your worries. It was a simple life, but it was good, and even wonderful sometimes. She could hardly remember running free along the jagged shore, the cliff face rising above her into the azure sky; the first time she'd gone fishing with her father and actually caught a shimmering little silver fish. She could hardly recall her first kiss, when she was only twelve, sitting behind the mill with Finnlan, the iron smith's eldest son, who was fourteen, the love of her life for three years.

And her brothers, the seven good sons of Cillum, who had always said they believed in all that was good in the world, who had been there for their small, unassuming little sister, who had loved her and cared for her, and done everything they could to keep her safe, and who now were minions of Eldarion and his disgusting "cause". How had they been fooled so easily? How could they have ever believed that what they were doing was right? But….there was Assilan, who could not keep his hands to himself, and had so quickly tricked Cillum and his wife into believeing their daughter was dead. Assilan was a chief part of Eldarion's organisation, and had no doubt used his subtle influence over the family to rein them in. Hasana could barely keep the bile from rising in her throat when she thought of him. He'd violated her sister….well, in truth, Bren was not her sister, but all the same, he'd touched, and hurt someone who was as close to her as any human being ever could be. How could he ever forget that?

"He wouldn't forget it." She whispered ever so softly, barely even able to hear herself. "He wouldn't….he couldn't…."

Without warning, tears began to escape from her eyes, rolling slowly but surely over her pale cheeks, dribbling down her chin and resting in the corners of her mouth. She didn't even know why she was crying. It was just happening, and she didn't know why.

Lowering her head, she rested her face on the smooth cherry wood, her hand still raised and lying limp in the air. The tears continued to fall, steadily and freely, but she hardly took notice of them. She closed her eyes and pictured Cigry's face in her mind, long and smooth, fair as any of his Elven kin, with deep, ever changing eyes, and long, ebony hair. He was a proud man, one who knew himself, his strengths, his weaknesses. He was a man whom she loved, though she could hardly tell why. She just…..did. He'd always said if you truly loved someone, you did not need to know why, or have to tell people why, you just knew. And that was how she felt.

"Tula n'alaquel." She sobed quietly. "Amin anta lle."

Come back. I need you.

"Amin gurthuva avaene lle."

I shall die without you.

But he did not respond. He could not respond. He was just a picture inside her head, a picture of a memory, of a time that could never be again. He would die in his cell, and she would die in her cell. Eventually they would both be gone, and no one would mourn their deaths. There would be no one who cared enough to be grieved that they were dead, who would think of them fondly in their life, and pray for their safe journey to the halls of Mandos. But, Hasana was not an Elf. That would not be where she would go. Even in death they would be without eachother, separated, apart as they had been in life, without hope or reason to continue living. No reason but to serve another's purpose, another's dream and goal. Eldarion's purpose. Assilan's purpose.

How had this happened?

How?

You do not need to know that.

"What?!" Hasana cried, sitting bolt upright in her chair. That voice….Who's voice had that been? It was inside her head, and that could only mean….

Cigry?!

There was a pause. A heavy, awkward pause. She waited, wondering all the while if she'd only been dreaming, wishing for him, hoping…..

No. I am not Cigry. Though I understand why you would think that.

Hasana nearly burst into tears again, clutching at her chest to keep herself from screaming her pain to the world. It was not him. It would never be him. How could she have ever thought she would hear him? She had tried before, oh how she had tried…..But never, she'd never been able to hear him. Why would she hear him, now of all times?

Who are you?! How dare you speak his name?!

She could barely constrain her suffering, her agony. It spilled into her mind, blurring her words into a furious mess of jumbled emotion, twisting what she wanted to say into something entirely different.

I know him, Cigry. I've spoken to him. He tells me he misses you, that he is dying without you.

How?! How is it that you can hear him, while I cannot?!

I myself do not know. If Cigry does, he is not telling.

Hasana gripped her face, holding her aching head in both hands. How did this person know Cigry? How could he ever know?

Who are you?

Another long pause. The wind had died to a dull roar in Hasana's ears. She could barely hear anything but the horrible, painful silence inside her mind.

I am Nathaniel. I am sure you know who I am, do you not?

Nathaniel? Her brother? He was one of her kind?

I don't understand…Nathaniel? Brother….?

I am not your brother. You know that.

Hasana stopped, taking a deep breath. She squeezed her eyes shut, nails digging into the skin on her face she was holding on so hard. Her cheeks had been flushed with tears only moments before. Now, she was trembling with a strange chill, the redness gone from her skin.

But you were…. She insisted. In a sense I suppose….

That is true. But, that is not what I am here to speak with you about. You know about Eldarion's plan, correct?

Hasana sighed heavily.

Yes…yes I suppose. Not the finer details of course….

No, you wouldn't. Neither do I. But you know, that they are going to use us to their own ends?

Yes. But why? What for?

That is not important right now. There was a sense of urgency in his voice now. When we meet, later today, we will be watched very closely. This moment is our only time we can talk freely.

Hasana was slightly confused.

What is it you wish to know?

You knew Bren, our…..sister, she was not human, nor Elf, nor dwarf, nor hobbit, or of any creature that walks Middle Earth, correct?

Yes. And… I am like her. I was made by the Lady Galadriel….

Yes, yes. I do know that. I always knew of course. But you knew she was recreated by Galadriel after her death? That she was in the Haven waiting for Legolas before he sailed with the dwarf Gimli?

Yes.

And you knew she bore children?

"What?!" Hasana cried aloud, her voice rebounding around the room. There was a clap of thunder as if to echo her surprise. She took a moment to regain herself, before replying.

N-No. I did not know that.

Hmm. Well, she did. Three children. Two boys, and a girl. Their names are Eomynne, Caelidur and Elleduil, and unless you have not seen them already, they are being held captive within this very castle.

Hasana gasped, holding one hand to her mouth. Two boys, a girl….Those were the three in the courtyard, the ones she had observed. No wonder their energy had lasted for so long….A union between Bren and Legolas could only result in such strong, and valiant children. It disgusted her to think that innocents such as them could still be touched by Eldarion's hand.

How did this happen? Surely they did not come here by free choice?

It was their choice. All three expressed a wish to leave the Haven, a wish that was strengthened by their knowledge of Eldarion and his evil plans. I myself am surprised, and somewhat appalled that this was allowed.

I do not believe this….They thought they could stop Eldarion? What foolishness is this?

It was perhaps madness that drove them here, but we cannot change what is. It is very apparent that they are in mortal danger. I fear Eldarion will use them as bait to drive the Elves here. And to do that, they must use us.

To do what?!

To talk to them.

It all became very clear, suddenly, the scope of Eldarion's plan. He would use the children as bait….the Elves would come….he would capture them, or kill them, and find the way to the Haven….and then….

"No." Hasana whispered, horrofied. "No no no…."

If Eldarion found the way to the Haven, all would be lost. None could stand in his way. He would loose men…of course, it was innevitable, but overall, he would slaughter every single one of the Elven kind he set eyes on. This was his plan. To fully erradicate the Elven race; make sure there was no way for them to come back. He would not be satisfied by his work on Middle Earth. He must destroy all of them, down to the last woman and child.

We cannot let them know of this! If they come, all will be lost….Eldarion will win….

Yes. It is cruel that the three children of Legolas should bear the blow, should die. But it is all we can do. There is no other way. We will not let them know.

But, what if Eldarion forces us? What if he threatens lives…? He does not care for anything but his plan…He would not care if more died for his purpose

We will refuse. No matter what. Do you promise me, to do this?

Hasana hesitated a moment before replying. Could she do that? Refuse no matter what Eldarion threatened to do?

I…I will do my best.

That isn't good enough. You must promise me. Promise me Hasana.

I-I promise.

Good. Then I will see you later. Take care until then….

Wait! Wait! I want to ask you something!

But he was already gone. Her inner voice echoed away into silence. No one replied.

Nathaniel drew back into his own mind, his brow creased with worry. There was a fine sheen of sweat along his forehead, and he wiped it away fervently, uncrossing his legs and standing on shaky feet. Speaking for so long had never taken so much out of him before. He was slightly surprised that he was as tired and dizzy as he felt. He slumped against the nearby wall, closing his eyes and breathing slowly, trying to calm himself down. For the briefest of moments, he felt as though he were falling, swirling in dizzying circles, and then it was gone, and he lay his hand against the smooth surface, barely holding himself up. His legs felt like jelly, and he would not stop trembling.

"Calm down." He instructed himself softly, even his voice wavering a little. "Just calm down."

After what seemed like an eternity, he allowed himself to slide to the floor again, lying down and curling into a tight ball. Now that he had stopped shaking, Nathaniel felt utterly exhausted, and it took all his remaining strength not to fall asleep right away.

Outside, the storm was raging on as fierce as ever, and despite being inside, Nathaniel shivered once, somehow feeling the icy wind on his exposed skin. He felt almost bare, as if a layer of skin had been stripped away, and he was all new and clean now, unused to feeling cold, and strained, and alone. His mind was as empty and dry as a husk, and even if he'd wanted to, he couldn't have thought of anything at all, even to wonder what he'd like to eat for dinner if he had a choice.

With a faint, wheezy sigh, Nathaniel closed his eyes slowly, uncurling his fingers from where they'd fisted into a ball. He immediately felt better, if only a little, and it seemed his body gave a sigh of thankyou in return. He let his mind wander, flying high above the palace and soaring through the grey clouds, briefly touching the minds of various birds crazy enough to be flying in such whether, but finding nothing except: Seek shelter. Find food. He wasn't surprised at all. Birds had a one track mind. They weren't the kind of animals to stop and think.

It seemed it had only been a few moments since he'd closed his eyes, but suddenly, someone was nudging him in the side with the toe of their boot, muttering things to him that his hazy head couldn't seem to register. Groaning with the pain in seemingly every limb of his body, Nathaniel rolled over, squinting up to the person leaning over him.

He shivered.

It was Assilan.

"What are you doing?" he asked impatiently, a slight tone of worry in his smooth voice. "You're not trying to tire yourself out are you?"

"Why would I want to do that?" Nathaniel murmured bitterly, sitting up and clutching at his head when the room began to spin.

Assilan crouched down beside him, staring at him intensely. Nathaniel tried not to shiver again under his close scrutiny. The other man's eyes were dark and serious. He seemed to be summing him up again, no doubt wondering if Nathaniel was still a worthy investment.

"What were you doing?"

Nathaniel tried to be nonchalant.

"Talking to the birds?"

The blow came hard and fast. In one swift motion, Assilan slapped him forcefully and was now clutching his shoulders in a very uncomfortable way. Nathaniel's cheek throbbed painfully, but he ignored it as best as he could.

"Do not play with me." Assilan hissed, teeth clenched together. "I will not have you doing this to yourself. If you choose to do so, then others will suffer for your misguided hope. Make no mistake, if Eldarion cannot use you tommorow, there will be other days. There will always be other days. Eldarion can wait, Nathaniel. He is a very patient person."

Nathaniel curbed the very sudden urge to spit in Assilan's face, and give him a good sharp kick where he knew it would hurt the most. He wanted to. Oh he wanted to very badly. But that would not improve his situation. There was only one option, and that was to obey, for now. Later, he would refuse to do Eldarion's bidding, but now was not the time to reveal his own true plans. If Hasana held true to her promise, then they would both be useless to Eldarion. He knew for a fact that Hasana and himself were two of the only three remaining of their kind. The third was living on a farm west of Hobbiton and its inhabitants, and was still very unaware of who, and what he was. Eldarion would never find another to help him. If they both refused, his plan would fall apart, and the Elves would be safe.

"Who are you to speak Assilan?" he replied, allowing himself the chance to kick Assilan verbaly, if not physically. "Here you are telling me to be carefull, and yet you slapped me just now. Eldarion won't be happy if I'm damaged goods."

Nathaniel could see Assilan was furious, but he did nothing. He merely glared at Nathaniel, a glare that spoke volumes, and made him recoil a little. He'd always been afraid of Assilan on the inside, though he rarely let it show.

"When am I to meet with Hasana?" he asked, meeting the glare full on.

Assilan moved back a little, the fierceness fading a fraction from his eyes.

"Later. You need not know when. I will come and fetch you." He paused, clutching Nathaniel's face again, like he always did, as if he needed to be reminded Nathaniel was still there, and still his. "For now, lie in your bed and do nothing. I tell you this, for every day we must wait, another life will be taken. It will be easier if none must die, but they will, if they must."

He took a ragged breath, rubbing Nathaniel's cheek again with his thumb, and Nathaniel was all too aware of the energy between them, an energy that told him Assilan loved this, took pleasure in watching him suffer, keeping him captive. A kind of pleasure that even the most beautiful woman could never duplicate.

For one crazy moment, Nathaniel thought he could see something akin to lust burning in Assilan's dark eyes, but when he looked again, there was nothing but cruelty, and malice flaming there.

Finally, Assilan pulled away, and Nathaniel let his body ease.

"I will be back soon." Assilan told him, turning on his heel and exiting the room in a swish of his cloak. Nathaniel waited until he was sure he wasn't going to come back, before going over to his bed and lying down as instructed. He let himself sink into the warm fabric, closing his eyes and laying both hands across his stomach, one on the other.

Then he freed his mind, feeling all his previous thoughts fly away, and slept.

The Haven was cool. Night had long since fallen, and the stars shone like a blanket of diamonds in the sky. There was a faint breeze, one which had no apparent direction, and seemed to blow in all directions at once, drifting through open doors and windows and caressing the faces of the sleeping Elves, their bright eyes open, the surfaces glazed with the promise of sweet, and untainted dreams.

A great silence hung over the land, broken now and again by the faint call of an owl, or the scurrying of night animals in the large, towering mallorn trees. Across the fields, the breeze rippled the long grass, giving the illusion of an ocean of green, the waves gliding over hills and down valleys, dissapearing and soon replaced by another right behind it.

Only one, it seemed, was awake that night, awake and fully able to appreciate the beauty of the dark. They sat by a window in their great house amongst the trees, staring out into the sky, their own eyes clear and unfogged by sleep. The moon cast a shimmering light across their white blonde hair, making it sparkle in the shadows.

"Lisse'Elbereth." He whispered, his soft voice full of power. "Poika honnea en'edain."

Sweet Elbereth. Clean the hearts of men.

"Vara Tel'Quessir tuulo'cama en'huine."

Protect The People from hands of darkness.

"Eldarion, chil en Elessar, naa maura a'val. Ho rutha vasa ho fea."

Eldarion, heir of Elessar, is addicted to power. His anger consumes his spirit.

He paused.

"Fallana ho."

Heal him.

"Mela ho."

Love him.

"Karna ho lle."

Make him yours.

His smooth, powerful voice faded into silence, the prayer hanging in the air as if it were a tangible thing. His fair face was troubled, and his eyes held a fear in them, unbridled and free. He could not deny, even to himself, that he was greatly afraid of what horrors might await Valinor and his people, if Eldarion were to gain passage. Elbereth had guided him all his life, her star shining on him clearly even in the darkest, and most hopeless night, but now he began to doubt. It was not a feeling he was familiar with. He didn't like it, and feared that its presence might bring with it other things; things that he had never experienced and never wished to. Now was not the time for change. He had never changed, and hoped he never would, but the wind was carrying promises, ones that did not bode well with his already troubled spirit.

Behind him, there was a rustle of light fabric as his wife shifted in bed, and he could feel, rather than see her beautiful eyes unfogging and becoming as deep and ageless as ever. She said nothing, but her knowing gaze was fixed full on his back, and he could tell she suspected something.

"Why do you not sleep?" she asked, again shifting under the thin sheets. Beyond the words was a power, one which would always infuse her voice, even in the most tender of moments. It was a power he could only hope to ever obtain.

"My thoughts are far from at ease." He replied to her. "My dreams have been troubled as of late. Do you not feel it as well? There is something stirring, which cannot be good. Something with the ability to trouble me beyond words. I have not felt this way since the rise of Sauron."

There was a brief pause. He heard his wife rise and move towards him, lightly placing one hand upon his shoulder. Through the rich fabric of his robe, he could feel the buzz of power held captive within Nenya on his wife's slender finger. It made him shiver, but he said nothing in comment.

"Yes." She said softly, deep in her throat. "Yes I do feel it. I am troubled, as you are, but perhaps for different reasons….."

With a smooth, fluid motion, she slid into the chair beside him, her gaze fixed outside now.

"How so?"

Her thin lips twitched a little.

"The children of Legolas Greenleaf are in danger. I have always known it would come to this, and I have always known that they would complete, or not complete, this mission alone. I am uneasy about the fact that Legolas is sending men to bring them back, Haldir among them, and that he has so little faith in his own children. This is their mission. If more Elves go to Middle Earth, nothing but tragedy will come from this….."

She paused, clearly struggling with an inner anger.

"This is precisely the reason I forbade Haldir to go. The fates will not be pleased with this turn of events. This story has only one ending. If it is interupted, changed in only the slightest way, death is the surest road that will be taken. The Elves were never meant to return."

There was a timbre in her voice now, a strange, faraway note that gave the man the impression his wife was in the throes of a vision. A warning that could not be taken lightly, or simply dismissed as a case of the vapors. This was what would happen. They had to act on it.

Suddenly, without warning, the man heaved forward, clutching his head moaning, falling from his chair and sprawling on the floor. Pictures passed before his eyes, fast and painful pictures, and there was a powerful voice in his mind, one that he could not push away even with the fiercest force of his will. His senses failed him as the blinding hot agony sliced across his temples, stealing his breath and making him gasp for air. He barely felt his wife dive down beside him.

Do….do not….Eldarion…..slaughter….

The words were fragmented, uneaven, and the trademark of an untrained seer. It was obvious whoever was trying to contact him was in a hurry, and took no precautions to sheild the man's own mind from the power behind the sending.

Slaughter…Elves….not come….children….die….only way…..

"Celeborn." His wife whispered urgently, cradling his aching, burning head in her lap, stroking his brow and doing her best to soothe his pain while he was still unable to break free from the stranger's mind. "Celeborn, you must break free. Tell me what they say. You will loose it if you do not."

"I----I cannot…." he forced out, screwing his eyes shut to see the pictures more clearly. There was a garden, a man and a woman fighting, there was blood….so much blood….screams of despair, a woman kneeling beside a man and holding him tightly to her breast…..She was so familiar, but he could not indentify her. The pictures faded, then new ones came, slightly clearer and less fragmented.

A man…a man with eyes of darkness, leering at three figures that Celeborn could not see. There were voices too, voices that were muffled and unclear. He could hear nothing but the rage and fear in their words.

Finally, three faces passed over his minds eye, so quick he barely caught them. But he knew who they were, and just as he tried to reach the stranger, they were gone, and he was left gasping for air, trembling in his wife's embrace.

"Celeborn." She soothed, kissing his sweat slicked brow. "Quiet now…."

But he would not quiet. He had been shown something important, and he could not simply forget it.

"Eomynne. Caelidur. Elleduil." He panted, sucking in more air to ease his distressed lungs. "I was shown their faces. I was told not to let Legolas' men go, nor Haldir. They will be slaughtered by Eldarion's men if they do." He stopped, closing his eyes, trying to see the pictures again, but finding they were no longer in his mind. They had dissapeared like sand slipping through his fingers. "They cannot go. If the children are killed, then so be it. There is something greater at work here that we do not see. More evil will come from this than is plain to the eye."

His wife, Galadriel, was watching him very carefully, summing up his words.

"Do you know from whom this message was sent?" she asked calmly, still stroking his brow absently.

Celeborn shook his head.

"No, I do not. But they were untrained. The message was not carefully prepared…."

"Perhaps they were trained." Galadriel cut in, something appearing in her gaze. "But they had little time to prepare. Dire circumstances perhaps…..The last moments before execution….. I can think of only two who could have sent this; one is already lost to me, she has quickly forgotten all that I have taught her; the other, he is a man, and cannot be fully trusted."

"Who?"

"Nathaniel, the brother of the seven sons of Cillum. He was once one of the sea folk, but now he is imprisoned under the hold of an evil lord, and seen as traitor under the eyes of his brothers. This could be a desperate chance to redeem himself, by giving false information to the enemy. I cannot rely on his word."

"And the other?"

"You knew her. Hasana is her name, and she too was from the family who now dutifully, although blindly, serve Eldarion and his cause. She is greatly weakened by loosing her soul-mate, the outcast Cigry, to Eldarion. I would not be surprised in the least if she has given in to Eldarion, for the safe return of her lover."

Celeborn nodded slowly, his heart still beating fast with exertion.

"I remember her. She was one of your most brilliant creations. But if what you say is true, she has given in to the human urges and forgotten what she truly is. It is a sad day."

Both were silent, regarding each other in the dim light. Outside, the sky was beginning to brighten, the deep black of the sky fading to a lighter grey. The moon was beginning its descent, readying the way for the sun when it would rise.

"Do we trust the message?" Celeborn asked, his mouth set in a firm line.

Galadriel sighed a little, looking at her husband briefly before gazing outside again.

"I do not know. I doubt that even if we were to stop this expedition Haldir would listen. He loves Legolas' daughter, that much is clear. I feel I must grant him this, even if I send him to his doom. We will let them go, but we will not send them on their way without this warning."

Celeborn sighed in turn, grasping his wife's hand lightly.

"Yes." He agreed. "It is all we can do."

"This story will be a sad one." Galadriel whispered, again that timbre appearing in her voice. "Many will be lost, and many will grieve. More suffering will come, that we yet cannot see. The world will change. It is clear it will not be as it once was."

A/N: Meh, so I said lots would happen…..I've got to this part and I've decided to become the evil cliffhanger bitch. I would write in the part with Eldarion and everything, but I have no inspiration as of yet how to write that part so I'm kind of giving you mindless dribble that is making the story run in circles. But hey, if I wrote the part with Eldarion, I feel that it would be rushed and not done very well. So….*sigh* here we go with another chapter. It is longer, as I promised, even though not much happens……I hope you enjoyed this(even though it sucked) and yes, I realize I have repeated the Nathaniel/Assilan lust thing, but it won't go any further than that. This story isn't going to be slash. And also, again I must remind you that the Elvish is a rough translation. But other than that PLEASE REVIEW!!!!!!!!!