Elrohir carried the picnic basket for them through the patchy golden sunlight. Katie observed him out of the corner of her eye. His movements were quite smooth now, with no sign of stiffness or pain. There was no trace of any cuts or bruises on his face. In fact, the only sign that anything had happened to him at all was his hair. And while Katie had a sneaking suspicion that Elves' hair grew a bit faster than humans', Elrohir's was still quite short. The cut across her own cheek was healing quite cleanly, thanks to Elrond's skill with a needle.

They spread the picnic blanket out in the shade by the river. Once again, the cook had outdone himself. There was more than enough food for four people.

"I think Cook believes he is cooking for hobbits," Erestor said, leaning back on one elbow as he savored a bit of desert.

"Do hobbits eat a lot?" Vivian asked.

"Six meals a day when they can get them," he answered lazily.

"In other words, they eat like teenagers," Vivian said, shooting a sly glance over at Katie.

"Teenage boys, you mean," Katie corrected her. "I'll have you know, I eat like a bird."

The others laughed. They had seen how much food she had managed to consume.

"Remembering, of course, that birds eat their own body weight daily," she finished.

They heard a noise and glanced back up the hill toward the house. Someone was riding slowly down toward them. As they drew nearer, Katie saw it was Sadron.

"Sadron!" Elrohir hailed him. "Would you like a bite? We have too much food here to finish."

Sadron declined politely. "I already had luncheon."

"Training Bellon, I see?" Erestor said, indicating the horse.

"Yes. I am afraid he can be a bit unruly," Sadron answered, patting the horse's neck.

Katie looked dubiously at the horse. It was standing calmly in one place, lazily swishing its tail. It certainly didn't look unruly… But then, that's an elf's way with horses, she thought dismissively.

Sadron looked up the river, and the others followed his glance. Lossefalme was converging on them as she walked along the river before turning to the house. Katie knew it was Lossefalme from the vivid splash of brilliant color that peeked out of her basket. She had been gathering flowers again.

She noticed them a moment later, and continued straight up to them. "We're having a regular party, now!" Vivian exclaimed cheerfully. "We certainly have enough food to feed everyone."

"Care for a bite to eat?" Erestor offered as Lossefalme drew up beside them.

"No, thank you," she said, nodding a greeting to everyone.

Sadron nodded back. "I see you have been picking flowers in your secret place again?" he said with a smile.

Lossefalme nodded and looked back up the river. "Yes," she said quietly.

Katie watched Sadron's expression. It seemed to her that suspicion flashed suddenly across his face, but was immediately suppressed and replaced with thoughtfulness.

"Well, I must get these flowers back up to the house before they wilt," Lossefalme said, bringing herself back to the conversation.

"And I must carry on, or Bellon will become restless," Sadron added. "Farewell."

He and Lossefalme passed one another and headed off in opposite directions, leaving the picnickers sitting comfortably on their blanket, watching them go.

000

When the four of them reached the house again in the afternoon, Erestor suggested they go straight in the door that led to the kitchen, so as to be able to drop off the picnic basket. As they approached the door, Katie realized something small and white was attached to it, fluttering in the gentle breeze.

Erestor frowned and strode up to the door, stared at the small piece of paper stuck there, than pulled it off. As he read it, his expression grew very grim—anger, worry and shock all flashed across his face.

"What is it?" Elrohir asked, catching up to him.

Wordlessly, Erestor passed the note to the young lord of Imladris. Elrohir's eyes widened.

"What?" Katie asked. Elrohir passed the note to her, and she and Vivian leaned over it.

The writing was sloppy and shaky, as if it had been written by someone very old or very ill. Only a few words were legible: Peredhel… demands for Vilya… You have not… retribution… child!

"I don't understand," Katie said. "What does this mean?"

"Look closely at the handwriting," Erestor said grimly. "Do you recognize it?"

It was hard to observe the style through all the messiness of the note. Katie squinted at it. Suddenly, the memory hit her: the note they had found on the tray of poisoned cookies, the only one of the series of notes Katie herself had ever seen. The threatening notes written by Dorlarth.

"No way," she whispered.

000

That was pretty much Elrond's reaction when he beheld the note. "There is no way this could be written by Dorlarth," he said. "Unless he wrote it before his death."

"But why would his writing be so unsteady?" Erestor asked. "I rather think it was written by one of his followers, imitating their late leader's writing."

"But all of his followers are either rehabilitated or dead," Katie objected. "Is it possible one of them is only pretending to be sorry? Or were there more of his followers than we knew of? Maybe they're just trying to scare us."

Elrohir shook his head. "But I cannot think what possible motive anyone might have for that."

Elrond had examined the note closely while they spoke. "I believe you must be right, Erestor, that someone else is imitating Dorlarth's writing. There is another style here." He pointed to parts of the writing. "You see, here and here—the line is lighter and more gentle than the hard, straight style Dorlarth preferred."

Katie peeked around Erestor's arm at the note, but could not pick out any difference in the places Elrond pointed at. Erestor, however, nodded.

"Yes. Unfortunately, there is too little of that second style to be able to identify the writer," Erestor agreed.

"We spoke to Cook when we came into the kitchen," Elrohir said. "He said no one had been through that door in a couple of hours, and that he had not noticed a sound of anyone at the door. He had been in the farther part of the kitchen for most of that time. Once again, anyone could have put it there."

Vivian frowned. She had kept quiet all this time, not having been in Rivendell during Dorlarth's little reign of terror. Now she spoke up. "You don't suppose the person who put up the note was the same one who put that knife in Orain's grave?"

The elves looked at one another. "That seems likely," Elrond answered. "Dorlarth is the one who killed Orain. That was, as far as we know, his only murder. Maybe the knife was supposed to be a sign of power, to scare us. To remind us of the horrors Dorlarth was capable of."

"The thing is," Katie said, "if this unrepentant follower of Dorlarth's is trying to scare us, why is he doing it? Like Elrohir said, he's got no motive. That note doesn't make any demands, or at least, none that we can actually read. Why write a threatening note if you don't even bother to make it legible?"

The others simply shook their heads. "I do not understand, either," Elrond said quietly.

000

The community had heard about the knife incident, because of the guard at the entrance of the cemetery. Somehow (Katie didn't know how) they found out about the note as well, and Rivendell was buzzing with the news of it all the next day. No one knew what to think. The entire situation was inexplicable.

Everyone talked about it so much that Katie had trouble getting to sleep. Her mind would start asking unanswerable questions and making up wild theories. But every theory led right back in a cycle to the beginning again. There was no solution to the question.

After having done this cycle about five times in a row, Katie heaved a huge sigh and got out of bed. If she was going to be awake, she might as well be doing something. She didn't want to light a lamp, so she walked over to her window and looked out.

One could never get tired of the night sky over Imladris. Tonight the moon was nearly full, and terribly bright. Katie thought to herself that the owls probably slept right through moonlit nights around here, thinking it was still daylight.

Katie loved the way everything looked floodlit in the moonlight. She gazed out over the grounds and the trees, down to the river, and beyond that to the mountains in the distance.

She had been there for some time when a small movement in the shadows caught her eye. She blinked several times and rubbed her eyes, trying to make sure she hadn't fallen asleep or that her eyes weren't playing tricks on her. No, it was still there. Or rather, they were still there.

Two figures stood down by the stables. One was a male elf and the other a female, from what Katie could see of their clothing. It was hard to tell in the dark. She was definitely too far away to hear them; she doubted if even an elf could make out their conversation from this distance. They moved little at first, but as they continued to talk, they both became more agitated, the female in particular. Finally, the elleth wheeled and walked away, back toward the house. The male watched her for a minute, then walked back into the stable.

Katie watched the face of the elleth as she approached, hoping to see who it was. Finally, she caught a glimpse of her face. It was Lossefalme, and she did not look happy.

TBC

AN: I put up a few more wallpapers, if anybody's interested.

Princess Siara: Yes, more history/philosophy of Elves is forthcoming!

Laer4572: I can tell you quite definitely, she's not related to any hobbits. :) Besides, don't you think if that were the case, that the Elves would be able to identify a part-hobbit?

IwishChan: I know! —imagines Elrohir chopping vegetables— Mmmm…

RenegadeKitsune: Yay! Sn!

Ravens Destiny: Please don't die of shock. lol Well I couldn't very well attack them at two picnics in a row, now could I? Then I'd be making a pattern. And I don't want patterns like that; I'd rather keep you all on your toes. :)

MaddHatter: I'm afraid the address didn't come through on the review. I think you'll have to email me!

EresseElrondiel: It would be fascinating, wouldn't it? There's a plotbunny for anybody who needs one!

Darkened Dreams: You do have a twisted mind… Terrifying thing is, I'd already thought of that. lol Well, they did say Galadriel was kind of a manly woman…

werewolflemming: No insects! I hate bugs. I wouldn't do that to Katie. As we already know, she hates spiders.

Thanks also to Fk306!

Please review! I'm enjoying hearing all your theories!