Title: Silver Shadows

Author: Forest

Pairings: Orophin/OFC, Galadriel/OMC

Rating: PG13

Genre: Angst / Drama

WARNING: Violence, Character deaths

Beta/Editor: Shelly

Cast: Haldir, Orophin, Rúmil, Celeborn, Galadriel, Erestor, Elrond, Glorfindel, Elladan, Elrohir, OCs

Disclaimer: I own no-one from The Lord Of The Rings. All the characters and place names displayed belong to JRR Tolkien except Saeden, Galaril and Tarwë who are from my own imagination and therefore are the only ones I lay claim to. I do not intend to, nor am I making any financial gain from the writing of this story.

Feedback: Yes please! We aspiring authors thrive on the stuff.

Timeline: AU (to allow for some leeway as regards the practises and ceremonies etc of the elves.)

Summary: (Loosely based on the story of "Hamlet".) When a tragedy befalls the elves of Lorien, there seems to be little hope for a full recovery. However, through a dramatic chain of events, Rúmil finds himself in an unthinkable situation which forces him to become torn between his oath of wreaking revenge and his deep reluctance to spill elven blood.

Author's Notes:

- This is the longest chapter I have ever written in my whole entire life. 31 pages! dies Excuse me whilst I go give my hand rest.

- I do not own the brief dialogue from Disney's The Lion King used later in this chapter.

- Finally, I also do not own his royal sentinelness, Lurien. He is borrowed with Julie and Fianna's permission. Cheers ladies! (And, of course, with his permission too!)

- Also, I would just like to say that this final chapter is dedicated to Shelly, for without whom; the outcome of this fic really would not have been possible. She has been an invaluable beta and editor and helped me immensely, especially with this final chapter which has been a pig of a chapter to get onto paper. So, here's to you Shelly! raises glass May elves, caramels, toffee and butterscotch rain jovially and continually across your path.

EDIT : I have removed the Prince of Egypt lyrics mainly because initially I didn't think they fitted, but I wanted to see if anyone else would also think that and they did, heh. So they are gone now and frankly, I think the fic is a lot better without them. -hugs Lady of Light- Thanks mi dear for the inadvertant second opinion:)

Chapter 6

Glorfindel had not slept at all well. The memory of his exchange with Rúmil had haunted him and chased away any desire for slumber, and so he had sat upon his balcony for the reminder of the night until finally, he watched in silence as the sun began to rise. Slowly at first, creeping through the treetops, gently rousing each and every leaf with a loving golden kiss. Then suddenly, it burst into bloom and flooded the lands around with its warmth and glorious light.

Now though, he stood outside Rúmil's door. The sun's light didn't quell the darkness that now resided within his heart and her warmth could not prevent him from shivering all over as realisation of the situation at hand finally struck him a heavy blow. Breathing deeply, he shook his resolve and rapped smartly upon the wood.

Rúmil, who had been sitting upon his bed since dawn, scrunched up tight with his knees drawn up close to his chest and anxiously biting his nails, leapt to his feet as the short request for entry shattered the painful silence. Opening the door, he quickly bade the elven lord entry and then hastily locked and bolted it.

With a sigh, Glorfindel sank down upon a spare chair and then simply gazed hopelessly at Rúmil.

'Did you get any sleep?' asked Rúmil concernedly, turning to face him.

'What do you think?'

Rúmil looked away, a little hurt; but not in the least surprised by Glorfindel's sharp tone.

'Forgive me,' said Glorfindel, his voice much softer, 'Nay, I did not. Did you?'

Rúmil shook his head and replied that he too had not found rest the previous night. His head had been spinning with the continuous onslaught of images and thoughts of what he and Glorfindel had now planned to do. He knew also that in doing so, he would avenge Lord Celeborn – but what then? What would become of him, Rúmil? Would Galaril appear to him as Celeborn had done, seeking revenge upon him – would he be cursed and forever plagued by the deceased royals of Lothlorien?

Though in themselves the ideas seemed ludicrous, knowing the full potential of the crime they were about to commit chilled the young warden to the core. Glorfindel sat quietly now, his hands folded against his mouth and apparently thinking deeply.

'Rúmil …' he said finally, staring resolutely forward. 'What if we're wrong?'

'Then we shall surely be banished from Lorien for evermore' Rúmil replied with a strained laugh that rang in his ears, sounding high and feigned.

Sinking back down upon the bed, Rúmil buried his head in his hands and sat there quite silently for a time. How had it come to this? That he should be forced to betray the one friend he had known all his life. And yet . . . and yet Rúmil no longer recognised Galaril to be that very same elfling. When he looked into his eyes now, all he say reflected back was a cold hard stare – the playfulness and joy of centuries gone by, now utterly forgotten.

The two young elflings gazed up with wide, pleading eyes; and the elleth they were beseeching stared back, her resolve which had been at first utterly determined, finally weakening under the strain of their young and seemingly desperate scrutiny.

'Oh, all right!' she cried finally, flinging her hands up in submission and wagging a finger pointedly at them. 'But don't you let on to anyone that I have permitted this. If I even hear one word about this from him, I shall know precisely which pair of troublemakers shall not be going to play in the evenings for a very long time!'

The elflings nodded rapidly and made for the door in haste, the smaller only pausing to turn and bow cheekily to her with a grin.

The elleth laughed merrily and curtsied. 'Now, be off with you, young Rúmil, and be sure to arrive back here at the time you decreed.'

Rúmil nodded once more. 'Of course, Ionë.' With that, at the beckoning of his friend, Rúmil ran jovially from the talan leaving Ionë chuckling amusedly to herself as she resumed her darning, humming contentedly. She was certain that no harm would come to the pair. After all, they were old and tough enough to take care of themselves for a while.

Rúmil ran as fast as his legs could carry him for Galaril had streamed far ahead, laughing in glee as he went, and Rúmil finally caught up with his friend upon the bridge that headed towards the WestGardens. Galaril sat upon the edge, dangling his legs pointlessly above the gentle moving water that flowed several inches below his feet.

'I cannot believe she finally allowed us out' said Rúmil, seating himself beside his companion.

'Aye!' grinned Galaril, turning to face him. 'The look on her face though when he suggested the idea . . . Eru, I really thought fire would begin spouting from her mouth!'

Rúmil laughed heartily and nodded. 'Thankfully, she did not and here we are. Our first outing this late into the evening,' he paused, nodding toward the dining hall from which grown ellon and ellith were currently departing. 'See? Even the elders are heading to bed after supper and we, the young elflings, are still wide awake!'

'The whole of Lorien is open now for us to explore as we will!' replied Galaril, excitement gleaming in his young eyes like starlight.

'Yes. Though within the hour that Ionë has gifted us with.'

Galaril sighed and gazed skywards. 'One whole, precious hour. How much can we explore in that time do you think?'

'Oh, quite a bit I should imagine' replied Rúmil, smiling. 'I tell you how we can make the most of it.'

'How?' Galaril shifted his gaze back to his friend and stared at him, listening intently and hanging on to every word that left Rúmil's mouth.

'Well, where would you like to go? Where have you always wanted to go to the most in Lorien at night?'

'Anywhere?' Galaril said, the corners of his mouth twitching into a slight smirk.

Rúmil snorted. 'Well, within decent reason.'

Galaril pouted for a moment and then appeared to be thinking hard. 'In that case, I would love to visit the Lord and Lady's talan.'

Rúmil stared at him, his mouth falling agape. 'Have you gone quite mad? We can't just waltz in there uninvited, and at this hour too!'

'No, you fool,' Galaril laughed, rolling his eyes. 'I just want to stand beneath it at night with no grown ups around. Have you seen it at night, Rúmil? I heard it glimmers and shines like no other dwelling ever did. As though the very stars themselves line the walls like perfect jewels and the purest, thinnest silver in the world is a veil over the talan, making it seem to glow with the radiant light of Ithil. I have never seen their talan at night, Rúmil, and I would adore to visit it when I am young as I am now. For when I grow up, I surely will not have the utter carelessness in my heart to appreciate its complete beauty.'

Rúmil stared once more, this time in awe as opposed to disbelief. 'Galaril, I have never heard you speak quite like that about anything before. All right, we shall go. My only hope is that the reality shall do justice to your imagination.'

So, talking in hushed whispers, the exhilarated elflings crept slowly to the place where the Great Mallorn stood, occasionally having to dip in and out between the trees to avoid being noticed by passing elves. At last, they stood right by the roots of the Great Mallorn and gaped upward. Just as Galaril had described, the Lord and Lady's talan was a vision of splendour. The intricate architecture wove around the lofty trunk and the beauteous silver light that sourced from the talan in question stole their breath away.

'So, what do you think?' Rúmil asked finally with a smile. He had seen the talan at night a couple of times before, for as Haldir was the Marchwarden, he had often had to detour there on their way home.

Galaril's mouth opened and closed in wonder and words appeared to utterly fail him. Then, he spoke in a whisper. 'Rúmil, it's even more beautiful than I could ever have imagined. I could stay here and look at it forever.'

Rúmil chuckled and nodded. 'Would you like a closer look?'

Galaril turned to him, an expression of sudden amazement upon his young features. 'Yes . . . but we cannot possibly go up there! There is no way, and besides, the sentinels would surely catch us!'

Rúmil grinned knowingly and tapped his nose. 'Ah, my friend. Just follow me.'

They made their way up the stairs swiftly, dodging the sharp eyes of the sentinels and wardens by ducking behind pillars and the liquid like movements that only a small elfling could achieve. Then, quite suddenly, they froze. An older sentinel whom they had passed by upon the flet below was heading straight for their hiding place, a determined and grim expression on his face.

Rúmil and Galaril exchanged identical petrified glances and stood rooted to the spot, waiting for the sentinel to peer around the pillar and discover them.

'Lurien! What in Eru's name are you doing?'

The sentinel turned and stared back down the steps at an elf that stood, hands on hips looking slightly amused.

'I thought I saw someone run up here' the one called Lurien replied, glaring icily at his fellow.

'It's all in your head. I have said it for years and now here is the proof.'

'But there is someone up here - I saw them!' Lurien protested. 'Look, if you do not believe me, come and see for yourself!'

Rúmil hastily clamped a hand over Galaril's mouth to stifle the gasp of horror that very nearly escaped.

Thankfully, this offer only seemed to aggravate the other elf for he replied with some viciousness: 'Oh, do stop playing the fool, Lurien – it really doesn't suit you! If I were you, I'd get back to your post where you belong and stop with this foolishness.'

Muttering darkly, Lurien retreated swiftly back down the steps, only glancing back for an instant as though determined to prove his companion wrong in the extreme. When nothing and no one appeared, he grumbled some more and disappeared around the corner.

Galaril released the breath he had been holding for quite some time and looked at Rúmil half in fear, half in triumph. 'That was close!'

'Too close' agreed Rúmil. Taking his friend by the arm, he hauled him up the final flight of steps until they stood just below the Lord and Lady's talan. If Galaril had thought it looked beautiful from the ground, it was nothing to how he felt now. Along with the pure translucent light that emanated from it, there seemed to be a warmth surrounding it and for a moment, Galaril fancied he even caught a note or two of a haunting melody being sung upon the air.

He was jerked most unhappily from his trance however, with a dig in the ribs and another quick dash for the wider pillar below them. Looking questioningly at Rúmil, Galaril raised a brow at his friend.

Rúmil, in answer, gestured briefly to a tall figure exiting the talan and after conversing quickly and quietly with someone who Rúmil recognised as Lord Celeborn, began making his way down the stairs. It was Haldir!

'Come on!' Rúmil hissed to Galaril and pulling his friend behind him, he tore down the stairs as fast as his legs could carry him, but was stopped short when he felt a hand clamp down upon his shoulder. Wincing, Rúmil scrunched his eyes shut in bitterness and turned to face the solemn face of his elder brother.

'What are you two doing up here?' Haldir asked his voice seemingly patient but Rúmil hung his head at the note of disappointment.

'We were just being curious' he replied, talking to his feet.

Haldir nodded. 'All right, but why were you being curious here? You of all people should know Rúmil that this place is off limits to anyone without the request of the Lord and Lady, and especially so to elflings.'

'You bring me here!' Rúmil protested, glaring up at his brother suddenly.

'That is an entirely different matter' replied Haldir, waving the comment aside with his hand. 'The point is you should not have come up here and you know that, Rúmil. Besides, you were putting yourself directly in danger!'

Rúmil stared at him. 'How would we be in danger?'

'The sentinels would not have known who you were and some of them would shoot on sight and ask questions later. Not all of them, but some of them would and I suspect you would not be willing to let that happen to yourself or Galaril.'

Galaril had been wondering when his name was going to crop up and he flinched as Haldir's gaze shifted to him for a moment.

Rúmil nodded. 'I apologise, brother. We just wanted to make the most of being out at night.'

At this, Haldir smirked. 'Oh? And tell me, why were you out this late anyway?'

Rúmil mentally kicked himself. He knew that telling Haldir the real reason would cause Ionë to get into a great deal of trouble. Then again, he liked Ionë and hated seeing her upset.

'We sneaked out' Rúmil replied quietly.

'I guessed as much' Haldir rolled his eyes. 'And you left poor Ionë by herself? Whatever she must think of you I honestly do not know!'

Rúmil bit his lip, feeling greatly relieved for her sake (and in the end, his too) that Haldir believed him. 'So, what now?' he asked.

'You two are coming home with me so you cannot wreak mischief or go elsewhere where you are not permitted.'

With that, Haldir led the two elflings back down the stairs and as soon as Lurien saw them, he nudged his companion quite roughly and nodded towards them.

'See?' he hissed. 'I told you. I am not so unbalanced and deluded as you so kindly suggested!'

Rúmil couldn't help it. At the sentinel's words and unbeknownst to Haldir, he looked over his shoulder and stuck his tongue out with a grin.

The sentinel standing by Lurien burst into laughter at the brazenness of the elfling and combined with the astounded and slightly offended expression on Lurien's face; it was crystal clear his hilarity would not be calmed for a while.

'Rúmil?' Glorfindel moved to seat himself beside the young warden upon the bed and draped an arm around him gingerly, not knowing whether it would comfort or enrage him. Shuddering, Rúmil raised his head to look directly at Glorfindel, his eyes terribly glassy and bloodshot.

'Glorfindel,' he sighed finally. 'We are right. I know we are.'

'But Rúmil, apart from this vision of Lord Celeborn, you have no proof!'

Rúmil sighed, rose and stood by the window, gazing out at the dawn. 'We have been through this, Glorfindel, and yes, despite your continuous desire to believe otherwise, I do have proof. I know what I need to know and for me, that is enough. I only hoped it would be enough for you too.'

Glorfindel sighed and stared up at him, his arms spread in an expression of a man gone beyond all hope. 'Oh, Rúmil. I just don't know. If you're right, we're in unthinkable trouble and if you're wrong . . . well, then we're in worse!'

'Glorfindel,' Rúmil continued, turning back around to face him. 'Answer me one question. If that had been you lying there dead instead of Erestor, you would surely want your killer brought to justice, whoever he may be, wouldn't you?'

Glorfindel sprang to his feet, eyes burning. 'Don't you turn this round on me, Rúmil, for it is not fair and you know it!'

'I have to!'

'Why?'

'Because then you will realise that this has to be done, and damn the consequences!'

For a time, they stood, each glaring at the other until finally, Glorfindel inhaled deeply and nodded. 'All right. All right, I am with you on this once and for all.'

'No more doubting?'

'You have my word'.

'Good'.

Glorfindel closed his eyes for a moment and when he reopened them, Rúmil was holding out a spare cloak.

'Come. They shall both be awake by now.'

Glorfindel took the cloak, albeit a little despondently and fastened the tiny clasp that held it fast at the nape of the neck and followed Rúmil to the door.

'Let's get this over with then.'

'How long precisely do you intend on us remaining here?'

Saeden looked up from tending the fire, a grim expression on his face. 'However long we must, Tarwë.'

Grumbling, the elleth returned to the small book she had carried with her which only cause Saeden to frown further.

'You know, it wouldn't hurt you to offer some assistance once in a while!' he snapped.

'Ah, nay. I could not, not when you are doing such a fine job' Tarwë replied with a grin.

Saeden flung down the plank of wood upon the fire in utter fury and stood, glaring at Tarwë. 'You know, I'm beginning to think Orophin was right about you.'

Tarwë's head snapped up and she glared at him. 'What do you mean?' she asked, her voice laced with a hint of distaste at the sound of Orophin's name.

'Well, you bring me out here saying that it's all going to be wonderful and we're going to have a new life and then what happens? I get stuck doing all the hard work whilst you play host to your fancied whims. Frankly, Tarwë, I do not know how much longer I am able to put up with this.'

'I apologise if you feel that way Saeden, but you knew it would be tough. You're with me now though, and that's what you wanted after all isn't it?' Tarwë stood and draped an arm about his shoulders in an attempt to console him.

Saeden shrugged off her arm and made to lean against a tree, facing in the opposite direction. 'I don't know anymore, Tarwë. I thought I knew I wanted you, but now I am not at all certain. Besides, I cannot stop thinking about what we did to Orophin. It was not fair to him – no one deserves that to happen to them.'

'You're speaking nonsense, Saeden. I know you want this as much as I do. Forget Orophin. He and all that happened is in the dust behind us. We've got the rest of immortality to look forward to together and we never have to go back to Lorien ever!'

Saeden turned round to look at her, staring down at her with a frank determination and bitterness. 'That's another thing. My heart belongs in Lorien, Tarwë. I cannot be fated to travel the road like a vagrant when I know that I shall never be happy until I am back amongst those silver boughs once more.'

'Ai!' Tarwë glared at him. 'We can settle elsewhere Saeden. Mirkwood, Imladris … there are surely other realms that would welcome us.'

'You'd be surprised, Tarwë. Other elven realms, especially Mirkwood, do not welcome strangers easily, if at all unless they have business there.'

Tarwë sank down on a tree root and stared resolutely into the fire. 'Well, never mind. We will be all right, Saeden. We'll take care of each other.'

Later that night, Saeden sat wide awake gazing into the burning golden embers of the fire. The more he thought about what had been done, the more he realised what must be done. Looking up, he saw their two horses sleeping soundly and cushioned against each other for extra warmth and a sense of protection. One of the horses was the very same they had left Lorien with. The other was wild and yet as soon as she had seen the two elves riding through the woods, she had approached them as though transfixed and nuzzled into Saeden's hand as though begging them to take her on whatever adventure they were destined for.

He noticed how lovingly the two beasts were settled and gazed instinctively across at Tarwë and an expression of pure sadness flickered across his face. She slept separately from him and apparently as far away as she could without leaving the clearing completely. He had loved her, or thought he had, that much was true. But now he couldn't even bring himself to ask to share her bed. He wasn't going to beg and he now was quite certain that even should she offer, he would refuse.

No, there was much to be straightened out from this terrible mistake. The entire affair had been one dreadful error and all Saeden could think about now was how he had betrayed Orophin and failed him as his friend. Standing to his feet, he swiftly packed and waking the horses gently, he swung the pack onto the Lorien horse and the chestnut mare stood instinctively, her jet orbs gleaming in excitement. What wondrous and thrilling journey was her master leading her on now? She nuzzled his shoulder gently and Saeden smiled, stroking the warm velvet of her muzzle.

Once he had readied the horses, he padded over to where Tarwë lay and prodded her.

'My love?' he said as she looked up at him, now thoroughly awake. 'I am leaving, love. Follow me if you will, but if you do not hurry you shall be left transportless.'

Tarwë sprang to her feet. 'You cannot be serious, Saeden! This is utter madness!'

'Tarwë, I no longer care for your opinion. And if this is, as you say, madness, then surely it is the sanest and reasonable kind I have felt in my entire life.'

With that, he swung himself onto the gleaming stallion's back and turned back. 'As I say, follow me if you so desire, but I feel certain that our new found friend shall follow me regardless of your progress.'

Tarwë sat down and grinned. 'All right then. You leave. See if I really care, Saeden!'

Saeden shrugged, slightly surprised by how reasonable she was being and bent low to whisper in the horse's ear. 'All right then. Let's get back to Lorien shall we?'

The horse harrumphed and stamped his foot impatiently. He too longed to be back in the Golden Wood and away from the rough land. He missed his companions and would now stop at nothing to get back to them. Therefore, when Saeden's foot kicked him, signalling that he wanted to go, the horse sprang away jovially at full gallop, his tail streaming like a glorious banner behind him.

'Saeden … you're not really leaving?' Tarwë stood in alarm and looking around she saw that the chestnut mare was already trotting forward, gathering speed. With a cry of rage, she quickly grabbed everything that belonged to her and swinging her pack onto the mare's back, she kicked her sides and the mare followed suit to the stallion who was now growing more and more distant.

'Saeden of Lorien, you get back here this instant!' Tarwë yelled at the top of her lungs. But however much she yelled and screamed, he would not turn back. He rode now, a broad smile lighting up his features which had been down and melancholy for the past days.

He travelled faster than he had ever done in his life – all he knew was he must reach Lorien as fast as possible and the magnificent beast below him seemed to be harbouring the identical mentality. His hooves scuffed up dirt and stones and he tossed his head in pure happiness, neighing in pure happiness as his mane was caught and whisked about like a silver wave upon a turbulent ocean. Saeden laughed out loud as the wind blew hastily past his cheeks, causing his own hair and cloak to mimic the stallion's mane and tail.

He was going home and never had his life felt more gleeful. He knew he would have to attempt to straighten things out with Orophin but until then, he just craved for a glimpse of the golden leaves and beautiful boughs that would herald their homecoming.

Rúmil bowed deeply and straightened up. His mouth felt completely dry and his head was spinning. Chancing a fleeting look at Glorfindel, he noted that the golden haired elf lord looked decidedly ill and who could blame him?

'You come here with an important request' Galadriel said as the two elves looked up again.

Rúmil inclined his head, gratitude flooding through him that Galadriel herself had started the exchange. 'Aye, my lady,' he replied. 'Myself and Glorfindel humbly seek your permission for this evening to perform a play of modest length, but with a great narrative that we feel sure would enthral you and be cause for great ... ah … reflecting after it reaches its conclusion.'

Galadriel seemed to consider their proposal for a moment whilst Galaril merely stood looking as regal and stoic as ever. However, despite being forever indebted to the fact that his lord and one time friend apparently had no inkling whatsoever of their true intent, Rúmil took great care not to ever meet Galaril's eyes. For he was fully aware that the fear and revulsion would gleam forthright within his, Rúmil's eyes during even the briefest of glances

'Pray, tell me,' Galadriel spoke finally to the pair. 'What tale will this play you suggest chronicle?'

'Alas, one of great woe, my lady' replied Glorfindel with the air of one completely determined, but still extremely polite. ''Tis the tale of two, alike in kin and yet one harbouring a secret desire to see the other overthrown from his position. I feel there is much to be gained, my lady, from presenting this play.'

'And what exactly might these rewards be?' Galaril questioned suddenly, his voice like velvet and eyes gleaming with a swiftly stifled flurry of conflicting emotions.

'Only that it would be right and honourable. My lord and lady, the play itself was one of great worth and importance to Erestor, and I know I for one should like to see it performed at least one last time – if for nothing else; than for a tribute to his noble life.'

Rúmil gaze snapped to Glorfindel and hastily arranged his surprised expression into one of affirmation. He would never have dreamt that Glorfindel would come up with such a reason as that. But by Eru, was the young warden ecstatic that he had. Surely, surely there was not way they could be refused now!

Sure enough, Galadriel finally nodded. 'In that reasoning, I shall gladly permit your wishes and I for one shall await this coming evening with curiosity and great respect.'

The pair bowed quickly and took care to voice their thanks most graciously before departing the flet with Lady Galadriel's favour. Whether Galaril had caught onto the real reasoning behind their upcoming performance, Rúmil didn't care to know. All that mattered now were the hours that lay between the current moment and the evening. The work that must be accomplished was relatively small as they had decided to make up the dialogue to a certain extent – after all, they were not entering into this purely for the sake of entertaining their fellows. However, what worried Rúmil most was that if they weren't able to convince the crowds of their suspicions – if Galaril remained as steadfast as ever … the outcome would be too terrible to imagine.

Rúmil couldn't believe it. For once he had been so sure of himself - of his convictions. And now, seeing all his fellow kin milling into the Hall and abuzz with curiosity at why they had all been summoned at one time, made his stomach do backflips. He realised now that if either Glorfindel or himself even hinted at the real reason behind their performance, if anyone suspected that all was not what it seemed - then they were doomed.

Moving around to the side of the stage, Rúmil sat down beside Glorfindel who looked up instinctively.

'Are you all right?' Rúmil asked softly.

Glorfindel swallowed hard and finally nodded. 'Aye. Let us just hope they don't see through our masquerade before the time comes.'

Rúmil managed a weak smile and looked once more to the gathering crowds, sighing. 'It seemed they were more than willing to support something so charitable and heartfelt,' he said quietly. 'I spoke to Haldir today, Glorfindel, and he thinks that what we are doing "in memory of Erestor" is something extremely worthy of praise and merit. Do you know what else he said, Glorfindel?'

'No,' replied Glorfindel. 'What?'

'He said he was proud of me. I tell you Glorfindel, when he said that it was like having a dagger plunged into my chest and scraped around inside my very being. I would in fact rather have had that happen than to hear those words emanate from my brother's mouth when I know I have deceived him completely.'

Glorfindel looked on pensively for a moment before taking Rúmil's quivering hand in his own. 'You know that I too fear greatly for the outcome of this, Rúmil. But I also know we are doing the most right and honourable thing we could ever do; and therefore you should not mourn your actions. For whatever happens, Rúmil, Haldir will always love you and always be proud of you - even if this ends in bitter tears and no-one believes us and so we are banished forever.'

Rúmil looked up to face Glorfindel, his grey eyes suddenly aflame with determination. 'They will believe. They have to. I have not gone through the burning fire of this pain and torment to have it carelessly tossed aside by narrow sceptiscm. I will make them believe, Glorfindel. We will make them believe it together!'

Glorfindel smiled and he squeezed Rúmil's hand. 'That's better! Now, what say we make Galaril pay for all he has done to Lorien and show him to all for what he really is?'

Rúmil nodded vigorously and clenched his jaw. 'Yes, Glorfindel, you are right,' he paused and clenched his jaw, glancing briefly across at where the Lord and Lady now sat, waiting. 'Let's get this done.'

The moment the two players mounted the stage, there was immediate hush in the Hall. A chair and a desk had been laid out upon the stage, as had a pile of parchment and a quill. All eyes turned to them and Glorfindel made his way to the front.

'I suspect you all wish to know why you have been called here together tonight,' he began. 'Well, Rúmil and I wish to perform a short piece for you – you see, it was one of Erestor's favourites. We all who knew him realised what a dark and morbid imagination our dear scribe had.'

Glorfindel paused for a second, smiling weakly at the remembrance of how much great love his friend had had for dark and mysterious literature and his expression was followed by sympathetic murmurs and nods from the onlookers.

'The play itself is certainly not lengthy by any means' Rúmil spoke up, 'but we do hope you shall reflect upon it and that you shall take this time to remember this truly great and wonderful elf.'

'He was ever the perfectionist' added Glorfindel sharing a knowing glance with Lord Elrond. 'And so, naturally, I am sure he would have found great fault with how quickly we have put this together and had less than a year's worth of rehearsals!'

The final light hearted comment urged a ripple of laughter from those gathered and Glorfindel smiled and nodded appreciatively and then looked to Galaril and bowed. 'My lord, we do but humbly request one favour of you.'

Galaril nodded. 'And what might that be, Glorfindel?'

'That at the conclusion of our play you be willing to drink from a silver goblet to mark the ending.'

Galaril paused for a moment and looked at his wife who smiled and nodded. 'Very well then, Glorfindel. You have my favour for this … ceremony of sorts!'

Glorfindel briefly exchanged triumphant glances with Rúmil who then continued the address.

'All right then. So, without further ado, we present to you a tale of woe and betrayal' Rúmil cried dramatically with much pomp, absolutely bound to his determination to make their testimony as believable as he could. 'The most lamentable tale of King Teredrin!'

With that, Rúmil disappeared down the steps whilst Glorfindel remained upon the stage. Slowly, he lowered himself to the chair and sighed deeply before turning to the audience. 'Aye, most unforgivable labour. Wilst thy oceans ne'er subside and grant me rest? For I have been lost in thine depths since the first call of the lark.'

He stared down at the mound of parchment and resignedly picked up the quill and began to write. Seconds later, Rúmil ascended the steps, carrying in his hand a silver goblet containing a small level of a sweet cordial and in the other, a leather bound book. A sword was set in a scabbard at his waist.

'Sire' Rúmil said, bowing and setting both the goblet and the book upon a spare section of the desk. 'My queen has left to attend to her business for this morn. How fares you, sire?'

"King Teredrin" nodded and permitted to relax. 'I believe I fare more favourably this day, Gaelin. Alas, I fear my fatigue shall overpower me and thus the day's requirement shall not be ended.' He gestured carelessly to the set work before him and "Gaelin" nodded.

'It grieves me more than I can say, sire, to witness you in such an ordeal. Indeed, the goblet I have brought hither is a cordial designed from the finest fruits and warmed. If my lord shall forgive my candour,' "Gaelin" added, 'I do believe its contents would prove wondrous in aiding the destruction of your workload.'

"Teredrin" raised a brow and looked upon his servant with questioning. 'I forgive it,' he said quickly, 'but what else is your meaning. I confess I do not feel your convictions assure me as greatly as they do you.'

'Tis merely the ripeness of the fruits and the warmth of the cordial that I have no doubt shall relax you greatly' replied "Gaelin" with a smile.

"Teredrin" nodded and in one gesture, dismissed his servant, turning back to his workload. As he did so, "Gaelin" stepped to the front of the stage to address the audience.

'The fool!' he cried out. 'He knows not what blessed trickery and beautiful deception lies in wait before him. '

Gasps and murmurs rippled around the assembly as they realised what the servant meant to do. Unperturbed, "Gaelin" raised his head and looked superiorly round at them all, his gaze lingering for a second longer than it should upon the face of Galaril. 'He shall not see another dawn' he spoke softly, his voice low and dangerous, accompanied by a terribly sinister smirk.

As "Gaelin" departed the stage, he glanced at the king, an exultant gleam in his eyes, before sweeping away down the steps and out of sight.

"Teredrin" then proceeded to speak to the audience, relating tales of sadness and then of happier times gone by when the kingdoms outside his realm were not in such disarray. Finally, he let out a sigh, and turned his attention to the goblet.

'Perhaps dear Gaelin is correct in his assumptions' he mused, 'perhaps an interval of relaxation is all I need to restore myself. I admit I have been working terribly hard of late and my people have been growing concerned for my well being.' He nodded finally, as though in decision and reached for the goblet.

As he drew the cursed drinking vessel to his lips, he closed his eyes and inhaled deeply the heady scent of the cordial. Then, as those gathered looked on in horror, he slowly drank the contents and then turned back to his work. Seconds later however, "Teredrin" gasped aloud and clamped a hand to his throat as he fell from the chair onto his knees.

On cue, "Gaelin" ran up the stairs and dropped beside the king. 'Sire!' he cried. 'Sire, what ails you?'

But "Teredrin" could not answer, and instead was fated to merely gesturing wildly at the goblet and coughing terribly. Finally, he stiffed in "Gaelin's" arms and fell silent. At once, a wide victorious grin erupted upon the servant's face and he gently took the crowning circlet from "Teredrin's" lifeless head and gazed upon it with awe.

'This kingdom shall now be mine!' he cried out and standing to his feet, he thrust the gleaming circlet into the air in triumph. 'I shall have rule over all this land now my King, the utter fool, Teredrin lies in death! I shall have dominion and all shall love and worship my greatness!'

With that, the servant lowered the circlet onto his head and nodded to the audience. 'Till the dawn' he said as in farewell. 'When the lark pipes her eerie lament, we shall meet again.'

Moving to the table, "Gaelin" picked up the now empty goblet and wiping it clean with a pure white cloth from his tunic, he moved down the steps and poured a fresh amount of wine from a bottle by the side and headed down the Hall to where the Lord and Lady now sat.

For the first time ever, Rúmil as he was made certain never to break his gaze with Galaril. Inside, he danced in joy as he witnessed a torrent of emotions flicker from behind the elf's wide grey eyes. On the stage, Glorfindel stood to his feet and watched in breathless anxiety.

'My lord' said Rúmil, bowing as he reached them and extending the goblet to Galaril. 'If it please you, my lord' he said, his voice suddenly dripping with a hatred he found he could no longer contain.

For a moment, they simply looked at one another and then, with a cry of rage, Galaril knocked the goblet from Rúmil's hand. The ornate object flew the air, scarlet liquid spewing from its gaping mouth and finally falling with a loud clatter upon the floor below.

A ringing and shocked silence reigned for several seconds which was finally broken by a whisper from Rúmil. 'I knew it' he said, staring Galaril direct in the eyes, his own narrowed in realisation of the glorious victory..

'My lord?' Galadriel spoke up, her sapphire eyes wide and stunned and she leant her hand on his, but he shook it off furiously and then looked to Rúmil with apologetic eyes.

'Forgive me, Rúmil. I confess I do not know what came over me.'

Rúmil slowly raised a brow. 'Oh do you not? Well, perhaps I can enlighten you.'

'What do you mean, my friend?'

'I think you know all too well, friend!' Rúmil spat the last word as though he were expelling something putrid and foul tasting from his mouth.

'Galaril … what is he talking about?' Galadriel glanced to Rúmil and stared at him but Rúmil felt within him a new determination and strength rise up, and with all his might, he pushed against the will of the Lady to read his thoughts. He would not let her find out that way. He had suffered so long, so long and hard and now the time had come, he would have his words be heard. Finally, she snapped her gaze back to Galaril who appeared to be looking even more startled and confused than she.

Then, quite suddenly he laughed. 'My lady, I do declare that our little thespian has no head for wine. It is perfectly clear he is in an intoxicated state.'

Turning her glance back to the young warden, Galadriel arched a brow. 'Well, if that is the case, I have never seen such a sober looking inebriant in my life.'

Galaril's mouth thinned and he sighed. 'Come now Rúmil, you've had your fun. Now please, resume your place and we can continue with the evening.'

'I shall not!'

Haldir sat in his seat, utterly stunned into absolute silence. What in the name of Eru and all the Valar and Valier did his brother think he was doing? He was half inclined to believe Galaril's claims of his brother being drunk, but then again, as he, Rúmil, stood now, firm and determined before the Lord and Lady, Haldir was not in the least reminded of anyone who did not have a firm grip on their mind.

Nonetheless, he called out to his brother. 'Rúmil! Heed your lord's words and sit down for Eru's sake!'

Rúmil turned to face Haldir and shook his head. 'Nay, brother. I cannot do that. I am sorry, but it is now impossible.' Turning back to the lord and lady, Rúmil nodded to Galadriel. 'My lady, for what I am about to say I apologise for the pain it will undoubtedly cause you. However, this has gone on too long.'

'Rúmil' said Galaril, standing to his feet and trying to look kindly down upon the elf. 'Please, before you do any damage, be seated.'

Rúmil stared the one who addressed him direct in the eyes and smiled inwardly as he saw the glimmer of fear ignite and begin to burn. In one swift motion he drew his sword from the scabbard and indicated its deadly point at the elven lord before turning to the horrified onlookers.

'You have all been blind! How could you not see?' Rúmil cried out, trying desperately not to meet Haldir's shocked and raging eyes. 'For the love of Eru, the deaths of recent weeks have been no accidents! Galaril murdered Lord Celeborn and planned on killing our Lady, but poor noble Erestor caught the blow instead! This elf, the one you call "Lord" is of lesser worth than the filth on your shoes.'

'Rúmil … why do you say this?'

Galadriel fixed him with an intent stare but even under her terrible scrutiny, he remained firm. 'Because it is the truth, my lady. And you know if it weren't for Erestor's sacrifice, you too would be dead this eve.'

'Now you go too far!'

Galaril shot to his feet and drew his own sword which gleamed and glinted like the diabolical eyes of its owner.

'Ah. So you had an inkling that tonight would be your downfall' said Rúmil. 'My, my, Galaril, how quaint!'

'I brought my sword to protect myself against whomever caused the death of Erestor' replied Galaril dryly. 'Though to my eyes, it would seem we have found him – or at least one of his comrades.'

At this, Glorfindel lost all sense of self and yelled from the stage. 'You fiend! You dare … you dare to suggest that I would murder my closest friend and companion? I confess, my lord, I do not fully understand the reasoning of your mind, but I am quite sure it is something sick and twisted.'

'Oh, and yet the claim that I would try and bring down the entire royal house of Lorien, and a visiting scribe for good measure is not drawn from the mind of one demented?'

'You are catching on superbly, Galaril' hissed Rúmil, his voice low and baiting. 'Now, enough talk. Why don't you show everyone here what you truly feel towards me? I know you want to remove my head quite neatly from its resting place upon my shoulders, my friend, so why don't you try it? Come on. You know as well as I it is precisely what you wish to do.'

With a movement that was too swift for mortal eyes to discern and a cry that rang heinous in the ears of Lorien, Galaril swung his sword and brought it down with all its weight. But Rúmil was ready. With matched speed he blocked the attempt and the sound of metal upon metal reverberated through the hall.

That was it. They were gone. Locked in a battle of wills that each was determined for the other to fall. Galaril sprang from the dais and began furiously battling, each dealt lashing failing at the last second. Their feet moved in a motion too fast for the ordinary fury of bloodlust and each and every elf watched in stunned terror as the two grown elves continued in their long awaited combat.

Rúmil danced around the tables, leaping up amongst the cutlery as he dodged blow upon blow. Glasses fell to the floor and shattered and plates were strewn in all directions. Darting around with lithe speed, he threw away Galaril's blade with a terrific force.

'Is that the best you can muster?' laughed Rúmil as he ducked to avoid being decapitated once more.

'I have only begun!' came the scathing reply.

Screams rang out as the two elves stumbled blindly across a table and several elves fell beneath its surface to avoid being trampled. Swinging around, Rúmil's blade sang as he continued fighting unabated. All the pain, horror and weight of weeks past came pouring out and the young elf fought like he had never done before. The sweet rush of adrenalin tore through his veins, forcing his heart to hammer and thump against his chest and urging him on to the inevitable victory.

Then, with no warning, Galaril made to swing his sword around causing Rúmil to instinctively duck out of the way. Realising that Galaril had feigned, Rúmil made to stand up, but all too late. With a pain that tore a agonised yell from his the pit of his throat, Rúmil felt the blade of his opponent slice through his tunic and cut a deep gash in his chest.

Dimly, he heard Haldir's strong voice call out amidst the screaming and shocked gasps and forced himself to struggle to his feet. Crying out once more, Rúmil found himself thrown roughly to the cold, solid floor, the weight of Galaril upon his back and an icy blade at his throat.

'Surrender!' said Galaril, his voice low and dangerously quiet.

Rúmil swallowed. If he surrended, it would all be over. The words of Lord Celeborn rang incessant in his mind, the images of Erestor's death flashed before his eyes. The intense and furiously unnecessary pain the scribe had suffered. The terrible and unthinkable way in which Celeborn had been slain. No, he could not give up. He mustn't give up. Even if he himself died in the process, the worth of the truth that would burst forth from his demise would always be worth it.

'NO!' he yelled as loud as he could, feeling the sharp blade nick his throat slightly as he spoke, a warm trickle of blood oozing from the small but fresh wound. With all the strength he could summon, he forced himself backwards and Galaril fell heavily off him, his blade slipping from his hands onto the floor. Seeing his chance, Rúmil seized it and snatched the blade away from Galaril's reach.

Lying upon the floor, Galaril stared up at Rúmil in shock and sudden terror. Then, before he could scramble to his feet, Rúmil leapt upon his back, throwing him back down to the ground and pulling his head back, he pressed the blade to Galaril's throat so that if he even moved slightly save for speaking, his life would most certainly be a memory.

'You wouldn't kill me, Rúmil' Galaril said, his voice quiet and pleading. 'You wouldn't kill the one friend you've known for your entire life.'

'No' replied Rúmil slowly. 'I am not like you. Now, tell them the truth.'

Galaril swallowed and finally after much silence, he spoke, his voice barely audible.

'All right' he said. 'I did it …'

'So they can hear you' spat Rúmil, his voice hushed and grim.

Galaril growled in his throat and closing his eyes briefly, he cried out as loud as he could. 'I killed Lord Celeborn!'

Galadriel was on her feet now, her sapphire eyes damp and tears flowing down her crystalline cheeks. 'It's not true' she said, her clear voice now hoarse with desperate emotion. 'Tell me it's not true.'

Galaril looked up and fixed her gaze with his and all who saw his face were appalled to witness a sadistic grin alight his features. 'It's true.'

In those two words, there sprang forth more hate and malice than had ever been heard throughout the land of Lorien and they broke upon the ears of all present like the sound of clashing cymbals and the vile hiss of a serpent.

With a cry of dismay, her hands flew to her mouth and Galadriel sank to her knees, crying out in anguish. Hurrying forward from where he stood, Glorfindel reached her and embraced her. There was no longer any such concept as status or formality in that hall. Similar moans and wailings erupted from the onlookers and the tears flowed in plentiful streams.

Haldir and Orophin tore to Rúmil's side and Haldir pulled Rúmil off Galaril as Orophin resumed holding the elven lord down. As soon as he felt his elder brother's warmth against him and his strong hold, Rúmil broke down and let his emotions disperse openly from his eyes.

'I am sorry, Rúmil' whispered Haldir, holding his brother as tight as he could, feeling as though his heart might break. 'I truly have been blind. I did not see – oh, Rúmil. I failed you.'

Looking up at his brother, Rúmil shook his head and managed a weak smile through his tears. 'Nay, you have not done anything of the kind. I could not ask for more loyal and loving brothers.'

Orophin glanced up and nodded to Rúmil, determined not to let his grip slip on Galaril. 'What now, Haldir?' he questioned.

Haldir sighed. 'I do not know, Orophin. It shall be up to the Lady to do what she wishes with this foul traitor.'

Rumours flew through the forest like leaves upon a tempest. Speculation was rife amongst the inhabitants; all wondering just what punishment would await Galaril. Many believed now that he deserved death, though they would not voice this to anyone.

As for Galaril, he now resided within the stony dungeon walls; with only the constant chatter and scurrying of the rats to keep him company, and Lord Glorfindel had taken the Lady to make her rest

Rúmil now sat in his beloved glade, head in his hands. Haldir had initially tried to persuade him to come and sleep in his talan with him and Orophin, not really wanting Rúmil to be alone. However the youngest had resisted strongly, and instead had run off to his current residing place. He did not want to have to explain everything to Haldir yet, and though he was not sure he even had the strength to do so, had he gone with them he still knew that nothing would have held back the torrent of inevitable questioning.

A movement barely discernable even by his elven senses; drew him from his deep musings over the recent developments. Snapping his head up, Rúmil gasped aloud upon seeing Celeborn's silvery form nearby. Whilst he had secretly wished for Celeborn to appear again and to try and straighten things out, Rúmil also still had a small but lingering and quite understandable fear of the spectre.

'Interesting night' Celeborn said simply, noting Rúmil's injury.

Rúmil nodded once, not trusting himself to speak.

'I believe you wanted to see me, did you not?'

Rúmil sighed and nodded again. 'That is why you are here then? Simply because you knew I desired to speak with you?'

'Partly,' Celeborn replied slowly, 'but also because I have something else for you to do.'

'What?'

Celeborn gazed at the warden thoughtfully for a few long moments. 'I wish you to postpone his execution.'

Rúmil's jaw nearly dropped and he stared at his lord with great incredulity. 'But they have yet to decide upon his punishment – you know this!'

'Honestly, Rúmil, you know as well I as I what the penalty will be! He is a murderer!'

Rúmil shook his head, rubbing his temples. 'You cannot ask me to do this.'

'I can, and I am'

Jumping to his feet, Rúmil stood his ground defiantly, raising his voice to its limits. 'I will not postpone the punishment of one who so deserves it.'

Celeborn's figure seemed to glow brighter and his eyes were suddenly aflame with a silver fire of determination. 'Are you saying you refuse to do as your Lord and Commander ORDERS you to?' he demanded, forcefully.

Rúmil fell utterly silent, unable to believe his ears. How could Celeborn, of all people, use his loyalty against him in such a way as this? It was not fair to pressure him into committing an act that could land him in grievous trouble.

The elf's silence made the former Lord of Lorien sigh deeply, feeling slightly remorseful for having to put Rúmil through this. 'Rúmil, heed my words. You and your brothers have been my most loyal wardens. Believe me, I would never ask this of you if it were not absolutely vital. I realise, as you say, that it is not fair of me to do so, but I cannot carry out my plan without your complete and undivided cooperation. I need your help, Rúmil. Please.'

Piercing blue eyes gazed up at him finally, the sorrow in their depths so very deep and painful.

'This will be your finest moment, Rúmil of Lorien. What you decide here and now will affect the lives of all the people of your land. Galaril deserves death, but I will not have a kin slaying on your hands, nor have it hang over our fair country. I leave the choice to you.'

That said, Celeborn faded away, leaving Rúmil alone and despairing once more. He clutched at his chest where he had been injured, though his grieving heart hurt infinitely more than the wound. Staggering to his feet, his conscience adding a great weight to the burden upon his shoulders, Rúmil made his way back to the city.

Sure enough and just as Lord Celeborn had said, an announcement was made a few days later that Galaril would be executed. A deep gloom descended upon the realm of Lorien when that fateful day arrived and all moved in silence, talking only when it was necessary, and even then only in hushed voices.

Even the trees around seemed aware of what was to come. The wind sang with a sense of foreboding and whispers could be heard. Delicate whispers floating through the leaves and branches, seeming harsh and troubled.

Rúmil stood upon his balcony that evening, his silver tresses lifted gently by the breeze. Beside him stood Glorfindel and in the room behind sat Haldir and Orophin, both lost deep in thought.

'How did it come to this?' Rúmil spoke finally, staring straight ahead at the path that would lead them to Galaril's doom. His face was hard and set the grief he felt; thoroughly beyond tears.

'It was inevitable, Rúmil' replied Glorfindel, his clear voice now laced with a deep sorrow, golden head hung in dismay.

'So much pain and destruction, and all of it completely unnecessary' Rúmil mused, shaking his head and sighing, looking up finally at the crisp light waning through the tree tops. 'It is time' he said, his voice cracking slightly.

Instinctively, Glorfindel draped an arm around the young elf's shoulders and nodded. The pair turned and joined Haldir and Orophin, and in silence the small group began to make their way down to the designated execution site. The air was heavy and even the gleaming light that surrounded Lothlorien could not penetrate the darkness that now resided in all the elven hearts. They were dressed in garbs of shining silver and white, their skin and hair gleaming luminescent in the dark. They moved like a gentle river, flowing onward and further toward its destination and finally, they arrived.

They stood gathered atop a hill just outside the borders, the decision not to execute within the realm of Caras Galadhon being determinedly upheld. In the centre of the crown of the hill stood an elf, hooded and cloaked in attire of a deep and melancholy grey, At his waist was a leather belt and a long sword hung in the attached scabbard. Upon seeing the elf, Rúmil's breath caught in his throat and he gasped, the sudden realisation; raw and painful. He let out a long and shuddering sigh when he felt Haldir's hand, strong and comforting, come to rest upon his shoulder. Looking up at his brother, Rúmil's eyes swam with the image of the kindly and understanding grey orbs gazing down and he drew himself closer, the pressure of Haldir's body reassuring and comforting him against the fell tide of what was to come.

Finally, the gathered elves parted to make a small path that led up to the executioner. Galaril made his way slowly to the peak, flanked by two severe looking sentinels, one of whom Rúmil recognised as Lurien, the very same elf who had almost caught him and Galaril sneaking around all those centuries before. His eyes then turned to Galaril whose head was held proud and high, his expression completely emotionless. He was garbed in robes of the darkest ebony, his hair dull and filthy from the dirt in the dungeons and his grey eyes narrowed and cold.

As he passed them, the elves looked upon him with complete abhorrence, their heads lifted high and aloof, and though none ever met his glance, they nevertheless looked down upon him with thin expressions of hate and disgust.

Behind the executioner stood Galadriel, and to Rúmil, her expression was unreadable. What he did notice however was that as soon as she fixed her gaze with her husband's murderer, the accused looked away sharply, his eyes closed in what appeared to be an illustration of deep pain and horror. What ever she was speaking to him now through her mind, Rúmil was glad he didn't have to know. All he knew was that whatever it maybe, her words would cause a much greater level of fear, distress and anguish than the execution ever could.

'You understand why you are here' stated the executioner, his voice cracking as he struggled to remain impartial.

Galaril nodded but remained silent.

'Speak!'

'Yes. I do' replied Galaril slowly, an intense malice and callousness eking out through his strained voice.

'Do you wish to say anything before sentence is passed?' the executioner asked.

Galaril smiled. 'Aye, that would be most pleasurable.' Turning to the crowd assembled below he gave a mock bow. 'I would just like to say that the crimes for which I am accused of were well worth this penalty. I enjoyed being the cause of Celeborn's demise. I treasure even more the memory of the death of that scribe' he continued acidly, nodding to Glorfindel who was only prevented from hurling himself at Galaril by the combined efforts of Elrond, the twins and Haldir.

At this, the corners of Galaril's mouth curved upwards into the most sadistic and sinister smirk imaginable. 'I see those wounds are still open and raw,' he continued. 'Well, I am honoured indeed. Yes, his passing was a fluke – but nonetheless a most excellent one. The terrible woe and grief that followed I revelled greatly in. Oh, you shall never know how incredibly wonderful it feels. To have such a power. To be able to decide who lives and who dies, and to have such a ruthless and yet marvellous command in your grasp – you cannot even begin to comprehend it.'

As Galaril exhaled, his eyes closed briefly in ecstatic satisfaction, the executioner nodded and gestured to the ground. Galaril knelt down and raised his head, his eyes open and staring intently at the executioner, a slight smirk lingering upon his features.

As all around held their breath, Rúmil gazed frantically around. He didn't want to do this. Postponing the execution now would be the worst thing he could do. And yet, Celeborn's words rang once more in his mind, identical to how they had done the very first time he had appeared to Rúmil.

There was no escape from it now. He knew that even though he did not wish to put himself at risk, there was nothing for it. Lord Celeborn had commanded it, and to know that the order came from someone in authority, albeit deceased, Rúmil still found a hint of reassurance in that knowledge.

Looking up at that moment, the elf realised with blinding horror that the executioner had already drawn his blade. Throwing all caution and reservations to the winds, Rúmil yelled out at the top of his lungs.

'STOP!'

The executioner paused, blade stopping short mid-swing and turned to look at Rúmil.

'What?'

Rúmil was painfully aware of how every head had turned to him, eyes burning in on all sides. 'This cannot happen!' he called out to them. 'Don't you see? This isn't right!'

'Rúmil' came a clear voice from opposite, and the warden looked up to find himself locked into Lady Galadriel's piercing and unbreakable gaze. 'Rúmil, please understand this is an exception to the rules of the Eldar. Only because of Galaril's unforgivable crimes has this sentence been passed. I for myself trust he shall receive his full punishment elsewhere.'

Swallowing hard, Rúmil shook his head. 'Nay, forgive me, my lady, but I believe you are letting your emotions rule your mind and thus, this decision. So, Galaril killed Celeborn, I am not condoning his act for it is indeed grievous beyond anything we could imagine. But must this all end in such a bloody and futile conclusion? Must this all end in yet another kin-slaying? Do we become like him, and in doing so; gift him with an easy pathway out? Do we nod amicably to his cowardice or would it indeed be more fruitful to punish him for all eternity? Like he truly deserves.'

Before Galadriel could reply, there came the voice from under the executioner's hood, but most surprisingly, it was not the shaky voice that had spoken minutes before. On the contrary, the voice slid out like velvet upon silk and upon hearing its tone, Rúmil's eyes widened.

'You speak the truth, Rúmil and I am proud of you. This has indeed been your finest hour.'

Every assembled ellon and elleth gazed on in wonder and amazement as the executioner lowered his hood and then, standing before them, gleaming like never before and radiating with life, was Lord Celeborn.

From the ground, Galaril let rip a scream of fury. However, even such a terrible noise as that was drowned by Galadriel who gasped aloud and clapped her hands to her mouth in disbelief. 'My lord? Celeborn, how can this be? You cannot be here … it's completely absurd!'

Celeborn smiled sympathetically and nodded. 'All can be explained and all shall be explained … soon.'

'Celeborn, this is impossible. Ai! Why must you dark spirits torment me so? Is it not enough that my husband, my love lies dead – Are you so discontented with my grief that now you must revisit me not only in my sleep, but in my living day also?' Shuddering to a vocal standstill, she closed her eyes for a few moments and then, when she opened them, Celeborn's face broke into a knowing and joyous smile and he nodded.

'Ai! it is you!' she cried, her voice ringing with jubilation, eyes pouring with realisation and wonder as she ran to him. 'I do not care how this can be possible – all that matters is that it is and you are here! Guren linna gen ceni!'

Embracing her warmly, Celeborn sighed, laying his forehead against the crown of hers.. 'Na vedui! Ai, meleth, I have missed you more than mere words can declare.'

Amidst the shock of the moment, no one had noticed Galaril beginning to edge slowly away. But just at the crucial moment when he scrambled to his feet, fully intending to make a bolt for freedom, Glorfindel darted forward and grabbing the elf by the collar, thrust him hard into the ground with all his might and pinned him securely.

'You have no conceivable idea of how long I've wished to do something like that' the Balrog slayer said simply, smiling grimly but triumphantly down at Galaril's now severely broken nose which from which a dense river of warm crimson was flowing.

Releasing Galadriel for a moment, Celeborn turned finally to Rúmil. 'You have done me proud, Rúmil. You truly have shown your loyalty and passion for this land and yet I must humbly apologise for putting you through all I did. Whilst necessary, I deeply regret pain and torture and believe me when I say I wish it had never happened.'

Rúmil nodded. 'Aye, but as you say, it was unavoidable. After all, the thought of what might have happened to Lorien had you not appeared to me that night, fills me with an icy dread.'

'I am glad indeed that you understand finally' replied Celeborn. Then, smiling down at the elf, he opened his arms and Rúmil, finally overcome with a flurry of conflicting emotions, collapsed into their secure grasp, weeping loud and open. The terrible suffering he had been forced to endure; was now over.

'I could have asked no more of you, Rúmil' said Celeborn gently.

Rúmil managed to laugh weakly 'And for that I am glad. For had you given me any other burdens to carry, I fear I may have collapsed!'

Celeborn chucked softly. 'Aye, but you have bourn a load heavier than most could have even come close to coping with. You, Rúmil, will truly be honoured amongst the Eldar and all throughout all the Lands of the Valar for evermore.'

Eventually, once Rúmil had quietened, Celeborn turned his gaze to Glorfindel who still sat upon Galaril who in his turn was muttering a continuing string of obscenities under his breath.

'Glorfindel of Imladris. The time has come to fully explain why it is possible for me to be present here. However, I do feel that there may be one more able to explain the reasoning a great deal more articulately and eloquently than I.'

Glorfindel's brow furrowed in puzzlement. 'My lord? I confess I do not understand your meaning.'

Celeborn fell silent and merely smiled knowingly. 'You will.'

Silence reigned around the hilltop for a moment before suddenly there came the tinkling sound of bells and the light clippity-clippity of horse hooves along the narrow path below. Turning, Glorfindel gazed through the crowd; who at once parted and his jaw dropped.

Riding swift along the narrow path at the foot of the hill and seated upright upon a proud ebony stallion, was none other than Erestor. His sable hair was clipped back and gleaming in the waning light, several tendrils dancing carelessly upon the light breeze.

Letting out a strangled cry of shock, Glorfindel took off at top speed down the hill, cloak streaming like a banner behind him. Stopping the horse, Erestor swung deftly from its back and in his turn, dashed up to meet his friend, laughing out loud in elation.

For a moment though, Glorfindel paused and was vaguely aware of how dry and scratchy his throat had become. 'Erestor … how is this possible? Surely my eyes are cheated by some ill intended spell.'

Smiling slightly, Erestor approached his friend and gently took his hands. 'Glorfindel, know now that you are not deceived.'

The Balrog slayer gasped suddenly and snapped his gaze downward to their hands and then back up at Erestor's smiling face.

'You're … warm.'

Erestor nodded. 'Aye.'

Lifting one hand gently, Glorfindel brushed away a lock of hair that had fallen across the scribe's face and trailed his fingertips down Erestor's pale cheek. Finally convinced, Glorfindel threw himself into Erestor's arms and wept loud and long. 'You're alive!' he choked out through his tearful onslaught. 'I do not care how or why, but all that matters is you are alive, Erestor, you're alive!'

Erestor smiled gently down at Glorfindel and embraced him as tight as he could, living tears flowing anew across his unblemished features, dark eyes glittering with joy.

Rúmil watched as Erestor and Glorfindel made their way to the top of the hill and flicked his gaze briefly across to where Galaril lay upon the ground, quietly nursing his damaged nose and apparently submissive to the fact that any attempt to escape would be foiled.

As they arrived, Celeborn pointedly nodded to Erestor who returned the gesture and spoke.

'There is only one reason that Lord Celeborn and I are alive here today, and that reason is Manwë.'

At the mention of the Lord of the Valar's name a ripple of gasps and eager whispering ripped around the crowd, but at a look from Celeborn, it quickly died its death.

'You see, because of the grievous circumstances of our deaths and Lord Celeborn's need to return to his rightful position, Manwë in his complete mercy, granted us return to Arda in our grown forms. I do not know how he did it, but who is to question the whys and the wherefores; and indeed the methods, of the Valar themselves?'

A ripple of agreement and nodding followed this comment and Erestor fell silent as Celeborn spoke up.

'As Erestor so rightly says, quite why Manwë did what he did for us, we shall never know. We have reasons he told us, as you have just heard. But aside from that, we do not know any more. All that matters now however is that the tragedies of past weeks have now finally been put right. Almost.'

Upon his last word, Celeborn's gaze strayed to Galaril who flinched and looked swiftly away as he felt the burn of the elven lord's gaze upon him. Picking up the sword once more, Celeborn stepped slowly to where Galaril knelt. For a second, they locked eyes and the elven lord felt a slight shiver of revulsion pass through his veins at the remembrance of that fateful night. And yet, as he continued to stare deep into those grey pools, he saw reflected back a terrific sense of hopelessness and repentance. Celeborn had decided long ago what his course of action would be as regarded Galaril and thanks to Rúmil, that plan could now be carried out.

Inhaling deeply, he threw the weapon to the ground and continued to stare at the elf at his feet.

'My lord?' said Galaril finally, once he'd got over the shock of finding his head and shoulders were still connected.

Sighing, Celeborn bent down and grasping Galaril's hands; he pulled the elf to his feet. 'I would not see Lorien tainted further with the blood of kin-slaying, nor would I have my people or I ever commit it. It is why therefore, I banish you forthwith from Lothlorien.'

Galaril bowed his head and nodded.

'Yes' said Galadriel suddenly, her voice ringing clear. 'Yes it is more than you deserve. But until recently, Galaril, your life had been noble and honourable. I think you will rediscover that part of yourself … one day. No one here will see it, but we shall still hope for it.'

Standing at the borders of the wood as a rosy dawn broke over the land, Rúmil watched in silence as Galaril, along with his most prized possessions, departed the wood. All around stood the people of Lorien, watching, waiting until he was far from their view. Rúmil's mind was reeling. He knew that the likelihood of him ever seeing Galaril again was remote indeed, even if he, Rúmil, were to venture far and wide from Lorien. He knew for that fact he should be glad. After all, Galaril was a murderer.

And yet; his heart felt heavy. All those years of friendship, of laughter, of comfort and fun seemed to flash before his eyes as he watched his friend depart. Why, oh, why had Galaril done it? Was evil all there was now in him? Rúmil sighed and leant into Haldir's embrace for support. He recalled what Galaril had said at his execution.

"To have such a power. To be able to decide who lives and who dies, and to have such a ruthless and yet marvellous command in your grasp – you cannot even begin to comprehend it.'"

Power. A fool's gold that lights up the darkness and lures misguided souls into its grasp. No matter how it gleams, how it shines like the sun, nothing will ever change the fact that it never delivers or becomes what it promises. If anything had been the driving force behind Galaril's actions, Rúmil guessed that that concept was it. No pain he had ever felt had ever come close to this. Rúmil felt as though his heart were being torn out and trampled on. His mouth and eyes felt parched and dry like the desert and he shivered all over.

Looking up, Rúmil felt his heart catch in his throat as he realised just how far Galaril had now walked. He was merely a small figure in the distance and then, just for a moment, he turned around and met Rúmil's anguished gaze.

Rúmil crumpled. He couldn't find the strength in himself to cry, but the pain intensified beyond belief. In that one moment, there passed between the pair an understanding. Each knew it was unlikely that their paths would ever cross again, yet they still hung on to a lingering thread of hope.

And then he was gone. Over the horizon and out of their sight.

It was a silent group that made their way back to Lothlorien, hearts heavy with the punishment that had just been dealt. Banishment was hell on earth for an elf and in a way, some believed that death would always be preferable to a criminal. For an elf to be told he may never again return to his homeland is the worst possible occurrence. Aside from being the most crushing words an elf may ever hear, it leaves a terrible aching hole in their heart that nothing will ever be able to fill.

Sitting out by the stables that evening, Rúmil looked up as Orophin approached him.

'How are you faring?' he asked gently, moving to sit by his brother.

'I've been better' admitted Rúmil, looking down at his knees and then up at Orophin once more. 'Do not misinterpret my meaning, brother, I am glad indeed that this nightmare has come to an end at last, but still … you know how much history Galaril and I had. We've been friends throughout my entire memory and the thought that I may never see him again; saddens me more than I can say.'

Orophin nodded, trying his best to be understanding. Despite Galaril's heinous crimes, he was nonetheless Rúmil's friend, and as Rúmil had said, had been so since elflinghood. It had been difficult indeed, but eventually, he had managed to see things from Rúmil's perspective.

'Well, you know I can never understand wholly what you are feeling, Rúmil. It would be impossible. However, for what it's worth, I hope you shall meet Galaril again someday.'

Rúmil stared at his brother in astonishment. 'Do you really mean that?'

'Of course I do. There was much good in Galaril and I think, and I know Lord Celeborn agrees with me, that what happened to him was a terrible clash of wills. On part of him was content to be good and remain the underdog, and the other wanted to stray from the light and become the most powerful and most feared force in this land. Unfortunately, it was the latter that eventually won him over.'

Rúmil grasped his brother's free hand as tight as he could. 'Orophin, you do not know how much that means to me to hear those words. Despite what he did, I think there is still hope for his return to the light. It will take many years but if he wants to, he'll achieve it.'

Orophin smiled and embraced Rúmil warmly. 'Come. Dinner is set and yours is rapidly cooling down.'

Rúmil managed a weak chuckle and nodded, standing to his feet.

On their way to the dining hall however, there came the sound of thundering hooves and the sound of an angry female voice, followed by the sound of male laughter.

Orophin stopped dead in his tracks, eyes wide. 'Is that … no! It can't be!'

The pair gaped as two horses ploughed down from the path ahead of them, dust clouds rising up around their heels.

'Sweet Eru …' Orophin gaped at the male rider and then peering around, his expression darkened. 'What are you two doing back here? Come to say something gloating you forgot?'

Shaking her head, Tarwë dismounted. 'Nay. I came back because I missed you, Orophin! I made such a terrible mistake!' With all the speed she could muster, she ran to him, but Orophin, quite startled and angered, held her at arms length.

'Somehow, though I cannot for the life of me think why, I don't quite believe those claims, Tarwë.' Nodding, he looked to Saeden. 'What's your excuse?'

'I missed Lothlorien' replied Saeden simply, finally dismounting also from his horse. 'Being away from here, well, I couldn't stand it.'

'And you expect me to welcome you back with open arms?' jeered Orophin.

Saeden shook his head. 'No, not in the least. We do not even have to exchange one word from this point on, Orophin. I know what I did was wrong in every sense and given the chance, I should like to apologise. However, I should like to know now if my attempts to do so would be in vain. As I say, I am here because I missed Lothlorien. And that includes its people.'

'What about her?' Orophin said, nodding at Tarwë. 'You returned together, so therefore I assume that is your current position.'

'No. She says she made a mistake, Orophin. I should like to echo those sentiments with all the strength and meaning I have within me.'

As his eyes fixed upon his friend, the remembrance of all the suffering came flooding back in crashing torrents. Not only had his broken wrist, due to Saeden, pained him dreadfully, but his heart had felt eternally beyond repair. Could he forgive his friend after so much heartache and turmoil? Saeden appeared to have fared no better than he, and Orophin sensed that the terrific doubt and the weight of his guilt had also wreaked their havoc on him also. 'Forgive him' his heart cried, as Saeden watched him anxiously. 'You shall regret it for the rest of your years otherwise, and you know it, Orophin!. He never meant to hurt you, and he would surely die a thousand times to have the chance to turn back time and erase all the agony and suffering that has been caused.'

Eventually and with a nod, more to assure himself, Orophin extended his hand, and observed Saeden's shoulders sag with relief.

'I will not forget, Saeden, but I can forgive.'

Eyes brimming with supreme gratitude, Saeden shook Orophin's hand. 'It's more than I deserve for what I did to you.'

Orophin held up his hand. 'Not another word about it, Saeden. Dinner is already lain and by now Rúmil's will be stone cold and mine shall be swiftly joining it in its grave! I expect you could use something to eat also?'

Saeden nodded. 'Yes, that would be marvellous. Riding is tiring work.'

With a slight smile, Orophin, began to make his way in the direction of the dining hall, when Tarwë spoke up, her voice shrill.

'What about me?'

Rúmil turned. 'What about you? I really don't care. Go and stable the horses though before night falls and see to it that they have enough bedding and water.'

Tarwë stared and her hands flew to her hips indignantly as Orophin roared with laughter. 'Don't you order me around like a servant, Rúmil of Lorien!'

Orophin sniggered. 'And why not? It's precisely the status you deserve right now.'

Fuming and with much dark muttering, Tarwë led the two horses down to the stables leaving the trio gazing triumphantly after her.

'Well, I think that takes care of that for the time being' grinned Orophin, staring to walk once more. 'You know, quite a lot has happened since you've been away.'

'Oh?' Saeden's expression turned curious and then, as they turned a corner his mouth fell open at the sight of Lord Celeborn conversing with one of his sentinels. 'What the -?'

Rúmil chuckled. 'As Orophin said, we have quite a bit to tell you.'

--End--

Translations

Guren linna gen ceni - My heart sings to see you!

Ai! - Oh!

Na vedui - At last!