A.N. Rai: Sorry this chapter is very late. Computer problems. Big ones. And sorry it's all broken up and weird. Just bear with us.

'…Here I am beside myself again.

I'm torn apart by words that you have said.

And all in all,

I know we're falling apart.

Where did you run to so far away…'

Finch – 'Ender'

Chapter 33: Gone

(Iavas: Late summer.

Firith: late autumn.)

When had Iavas come and gone? Leaves littered the ground, a mix of brilliant red, deep gold and dingy brown signalling the coming of Firith. Weeks had passed since the tournament and I had barely noticed. Had it been her ceaseless presence in my mind? Had I really been so oblivious to everyone and everything around me? I hadn't even known about how Aldaríon felt till she'd told me. Why hadn't I realized how I felt earlier? When I had more time to do something about it…

Jen and Celoril smiled at me as I turned the corner into the spacious courtyard. She had obviously roped him into a game of cat's cradle. Strings laced his fingers, Jen's forehead creased in concentration. Cer lounged on the bench behind her, a book held up to his nose. To his right, Firowen and Nólad where enthralled in a game of stones. Firowen's black polished pebbles covered a generous amount of the board, surrounding the majorities of Nólad's white. But the twin was known for escaping tight spots. Sitting between the two in a light purple dress, Narin's eyes were intent on the monochrome board, recording either player's movements.

"So, how'd it go last night?" Jen asked, her fingers intertwining with the string looped over Celoril's.

"About as well as I could have hoped." I stated shortly, taking a seat next to the pair.

"Do tell." Firowen rubbed his chin, placing a stone so that it trapped another of Nólad's white.

"Well, it actually went really well up until the part where she said that we were no more than friends, if that, was angered, and left."

"Oh."

"But…but…it was perfect!" Jen spluttered indignantly. "Did you at least kiss her?" I nodded pensively.

"Then what went wrong?" Narin inquired, concerned. I decided I had deceived them for long enough. She was their friend as well as mine, they deserved to know what I did.

"I noticed she had nail marks on her palms that looked self inflicted. When I asked her how it happened she became defensive and said it was nothing."

"Maybe it was." Nólad ventured, nonchalantly making a move which caused Firowen to curse. I took a deep breath.

"There's something I haven't told you." Six pairs of eyes swivelled to meet my own and I looked down. "More precisely, the reason Yuna stayed in my room the two nights ago."

"You did have sex!" Jen screeched breathlessly. I couldn't help but chuckle.

"No, that's not it."

"So, what is it?" Celoril flexed his fingers, gaining a scornful look from his sister.

"Something happened to her. I don't know what it was. She wasn't herself. I can't even begin to think what took over her. She ran out of the palace, not even knowing or, I suspect, caring where she was going. She ended up in the lake, which I think must have shaken her out of whatever it was. She…she almost drowned. If I hadn't gone to see her…" I left the statement hanging. There was a thoughtful silence.

"Did you try to ask her about it? Last night, I mean. Maybe that's why she got angry. You know how defensive she is." Narin asked in a moment of insightfulness.

"…Yes…I did. Something's wrong with her and I just want to know what it is. With hindsight I probably should have known she wasn't going to react well to an interrogation."

"Where is she now?" Firowen asked, his game with Nólad forgotten for now.

"Well…" I thought about it. I hadn't seen her all day. I'd barely rested the night before and spent most of that morning in the practice yards, where everything seemed clearer. "I…don't know…" I could tell from their faces that none of them had seen her either. Dull panic gripped my heart for a moment. I pushed it down, opting instead to turn without a word and head for her room. I had to find her.

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I knocked and after no answer opened her door to find a practically empty room. She had few possessions with her, so I expected the complete lack of clutter. The bed was made, with barely any evidence of her sleeping in it the night before, but Gem was an excellent maid so that was also to be expected. My eye was drawn to the wooden chest next to the wardrobe. Without hesitation I strode over and opened it. She had barely a thing when she arrived, but they were all missing. Part of me reasoned that she might just have decided to wear her own clothes and practice with Lucreccía for the morning, as well as somehow taking with her the other possessions she came with. But the more rational part of me recognised the false hope. As I rose I glimpsed the empty spot on the vanity, where the trophy normally rested. On an impulse I returned to my room. All my fears were confirmed. There, on a counter, stood the trophy, tall and gleaming. She would never have given it to me unless she knew she couldn't keep it with her. Like if she was leaving finally. So they were right.

"She's gone…" For a moment I thought the voice to be my own, then realized as I turned that it belonged to Firowen. I nodded.

"I knew she would eventually, I just denied it I suppose." I stood, staring at the trophy. Its presence did nothing but remind me of her, the defiant look in her eyes as she promised me it would be hers, the awe on every spectator's face, including mine, as she pulled off death-defying stunts on the spur of the moment. She was incredible.

"Legolas…" Firowen had entered the room to come up beside me. "What was happening to her?" I met his gaze, seeing the honest concern there and wondering how Yuna could ever have thought we didn't care for her.

"I don't know." I said honestly. "I don't know, but I'm going to find out." I turned and left without a word. I had to tell the stable hands to ready my horse.

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I walked purposefully. My father had been wary when I told him what it was I was doing, but I would not be swayed. He had warned me of rogue Orc sightings earlier that week but if anything that only served to strengthen my resolve. I had no doubt that Yuna probably would go through with her threat involving that butter knife if she found out I'd thought for a second that she couldn't handle herself, but faced with the utterly impossible she did have a rather nasty habit of spiting in its face. Sometimes quite literally.

With these thoughts demanding my attention as I made my way to the stables ready to depart, I didn't notice the others until I almost bumped into Firowen. Cer and the twins stood by his side, and a quick once-over told me they were ready for travelling.

"What, you didn't really think we'd ever let you go on your own, now, did you?" Firowen said, a grin spreading over his face.

"I…" I considered my options. "Thank you."

"Any idea where to start looking?" Firowen questioned as I strapped a pack to Arod's side.

"None whatsoever. We'll head for Fangorn for now, keeping on the lookout for any sign of her, though she is not one easily tracked."

"If she were to cover her trail so, isn't it possible that she wouldn't want us to follow her?" There was a thoughtful silence. He was right, but I couldn't just give up on her. I had to know…

"Perhaps. But there are worse things than us that she could be running from. And I have to know what that is. I have to know why…" I trailed off. "Besides, if I hadn't done things against her will before it is likely she would not be alive today." The hideous thought stuck me that I did not know for certain if she were alive or not. I reasoned that this was absurd, that no one would really want to kill just her, and even if they were there was little likelihood of them entering the palace, but stranger things had happened…

Too many words and not enough action. Without another thought I mounted and the others followed suite. I would find out.

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"They were no renegades. No leaderless mob, aimlessly killing. Their placement here. It reeks of something more organized. If not us, than someone else…" Firowen let the sentence trail off, the implications all too clear. They bore the same armour as those we chased into Fangorn. As those that led us to Yunalesca.

"Search them." Came the order that I later realized I had issued. Night was fast falling upon us, and we were almost at the Wood's end. I had barely thought of anything but her since we had left, riding too fast to make any sort of conversation, even though I doubted I would be able to contribute. We had to press on. I kicked over an Orc, one of many we had apprehended and dealt with. Every one I cut down became those that hunted her many months ago. Those that had worn her to her very core. That would have killed her if not…

"Rings." Came a voice to my left. I turned to see Celoril crouched over a corpse, rifling through a pouch that had been strapped to its belt. He poured the contents on the ground, rifling through them with a gloved finger. I continued my search for anything. Anything that would give us some idea of why they were here. Perhaps lead us back to her. An assortment of pilfered jewellery with little significance as well as some gold coins tumbled out of the fallen orc's pack as I shook it out. Still nothing. I cast my eyes to the sky. Anor had begun its descent. We would need to move on soon.

"Wait, that one there." I heard Nólad's voice from over by Celoril. "Look." I saw him examining a silver ring, his eyes aglow with fascination.

"What is it?" I asked, coming over to investigate.

"See here. The Swan." The circular signet was, as he said, that of a white swan in profile, its wings spread against a royal blue background. "Prince Imrahil and his Knights of Dol Amroth."

"There's another." Celoril added, fishing out one more identical ring from the small pile.

"But…how would these Orcs get them? The Knights are revered for their strength in battle. I find it hard to believe that they would fall to a band of orcs such as these…" Nólad contemplated.

"There are only two." Cer said, speaking for the first time. "Two men, however strong, would have great difficulty in defeating an entire troop of orcs, most likely much larger than they are now, as numbers will have thinned. Perhaps they were even ambushed. Even so, the fact remains that at some point the orcs must have come from Dol Amroth or thereabouts."

"But what if this was just looted from a family who's father, even grandfather had been a knight? Anything is a possibility. That just one Orc has a few rings cannot mean much. We cannot afford to jump to conclusions." Celoril, ever the grounding voice of reason, challenged.

"Here." Firowen said before I had a chance to respond. He handed me a clasp, white, outlined with a backdrop of blue, and in the shape of a regal swan. "Another one. This cannot be a coincidence." I considered the possibilities. Either we journey to Fangorn, realise we know nothing, then grudgingly return home, or we head for the South and Prince Imrahil.

"It is the only lead we have. We continue to Fangorn, find what we can from there. If Yuna is not there and we have no other ideas as to her whereabouts, we make for Dol Amroth." As we mounted and continued our journey, something occurred to me. Perhaps she left without telling anyone because she didn't want to be followed. For the first time that day I listened to reason. But reason couldn't explain how I knew something was wrong. I knew I had to follow her. However angry she may be when I found her, which I would, it would be worth it. I knew. I had to tell her. And I had to find out. With renewed purpose I settled back into the journey that would continue through the night.

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"The Wood is as unwelcoming as on our last visit, Legolas." Firowen remarked as we slowed to a walk outside Fangorn, where the ancient roots and branches of its inhabitants created an almost impermeable wall surrounding the perimeter. I smirked in spite of myself. He was right. But there was no way I'd turn back now.

"And yet enter we must. Let us hope there is more to welcome us than the darkness." We dismounted and approached the mass of wood. Perhaps it was my imagination that caused the roots to part ever so slightly as I neared, creating a larger passageway.

We persevered onwards, winding through the trees, barely saying a thing to each other. I didn't know what we were looking for. Perhaps the Ents would know where she was? But they rarely chose to reveal themselves. A trace of her. Anything. We were running out of options.

Celoril stopped for a moment, his hand on one of the plenty trees, gazing over the slight valley below. I had barely begun to continue onwards when a shout came from his direction. I whipped around to see the very ground beneath him rise up and shake him off. Old wood creaked as the tree emerged from the soil, its roots taking form, its branches reaching out as arms, and its upper trunk blinking in surprise at being disturbed.

"Wh…what is this…you…you are no orcs…and yet…nor are you…the young pheredil…" It wheezed, the voice rasping out in what sounded like great gasps of air. If indeed trees had lungs. I decided this was something to ponder another time.

"It is for her that we come. The Lady Yunalesca. The pheredil of which you speak." I said, stepping forward as Cer helped Celoril to his feet.

"…Yuna…lesca…she has not…walked in these woods…for…a time…" It lurched forward, a thin strip of light falling on its pale white and grey leaves.

"No…that is why we are here. Do you know where she is?"

"I…know…not of…what you speak…why have you…disturbed me…?"

"I…well...we…what are you called?"

"Hmm…you may…call me by the same name…Yunalesca does…Gelmir…in your tongue, Elf, or Winterbark in the common…" He scanned our group, his primordial eyes blinking heavily. "Where…where is…she? She has left…I can feel this…the attacks…they have been no more since then…" So the attacks stopped once she left. Did that mean they were definitely after her?

"That is why we are here. We do not know, and we must find her. She…may be in great danger." I didn't know this for a fact, but I felt it. And that was all I needed.

"Hmm…about the pheredil I know much…the one that brought her here...told me of her heritage…of the forgotten race…the uncorrupted Avari."

"The Avari?" I had never heard of them except for as those that fell to become Orcs. The fact that some may have been uncorrupted and continued living as elves escaped my knowledge.

"Yes…indeed…the elves of the south…of the sea…of the sky…"

"Did Yuna know of this?" My mind was racing. Elves of the sea and sky? This was an entirely new concept.

"She was…to know nothing…of her people…lest she try to return…" Something I identified as a drawn-out yawn escaped his gargantuan mouth. I couldn't let him go back to sleep yet. Not when I was so close to finding out.

"The south, where in the south?" A brainwave. "The city of Dol Amroth? The Bay of Belfalas? Is that where she is from?" It made no sense, especially not to me, but it was a chance.

"Where the land meets the sea, beneath the shadows of the White Mountains…" And with that he had settled back into his nook in the side of the valley and was at rest once more. I turned to my group, each of whom had varying degrees of confusion and shock on their faces.

"We make for Dol Amroth."

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"There, my Lady." He raised an arm and pointed at the mass of clouds swirling overhead not a league from us. "There you will find what you seek." That was probably the most words he had strung together aimed at me since we had left. I may have had nothing left to lose, but I could still have my doubts.

"And what might that be? What exactly is it that you think I seek?" I asked, keeping my gaze set on the gathering ahead. I heard the barest hint of a smirk in his tone, but I chose to ignore it for now.

"Only you can know for sure." Another ambiguous statement. He was using me, of that I was certain. I knew not what for, but it didn't matter, because I was using him too, and I was far better at manipulating people than he. Only human. "And now the time has come. Call them. They will hear you. They must. They are bound." He wasn't used to talking to people. That much was obvious. His short, staccato sentences belied an impatience, although if what he had confided in me was true, he had a right to impatience. Not as much as I, however. He may have waited his entire life for this moment, but so had I. And I was far, far older than him. Following his instructions, I called out, summoning them to me. I felt stupid standing on the Valar-forsaken coast of some island, but apparently it was necessary. I fought off the swell of the sea in my ears and the promise of paradise within my reach to concentrate on my task.

And come they did.

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The stone walls of the city's inner quarter loomed ever higher as we approached the gate, already opening with our imminent arrival. We bore neither standards nor any other indication that we were not simply messengers, and yet there was whom I assumed was an official to greet us as we slowed our horses and dismounted, with almost invisible stable boys at hand to lead them away.

"Welcome, my Lords." Said the middle-aged man, his dark hair flecked with grey.

"I am Prince Legolas of Eryn Lasgalen, son of King Thranduil. My party and I come seeking assistance with…a rather delicate matter. Would an audience with the Knight-Captain be possible? An historian? Anyone?" I hated these formalities. Usually I would reserve revealing my lineage, as I wished for no special treatment, but in this case time was of the essence. If what the old Ent had said was true…there was a reason for Yuna to not have known about her people…whatever secrets they held. 'Lest she try to return.' What could happen then? And the Orcs, having passed through, perhaps even sent from Dol Amroth. As what? An attack? That would be useless. More like…a diversion. But from what? Or whom? I had to find out, and being a Prince meant matters would be dealt with more swiftly. Or at least I hoped so.

"My Lord Prince." He acknowledged, bowing his head in a brief gesture of respect. "I am afraid the Knight-Captain is out of the city at this time. I can, however, give you an audience with the Prince Imrahil, if that is your wish. He would want to be informed of your arrival."

"Best take it." Firowen said quietly to me. "Imrahil, as you know, will want to help us. And I am sure he will know of someone who can, if he cannot." I nodded.

"Yes, if you would." He bowed his head once more and muttered something to a random peon who scuttled off ahead of us.

"Certainly. Follow me."

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"Prince Legolas!" Was the sound that welcomed me as we entered the small courtyard where Imrahil was stood, obviously having just finished a meal from the plates being cleared away in the background. "And your party. Greetings to you all. It has been a good few years now." His smile still retained all the sincerity as the first time I had met him. Faramir took after his uncle all too well.

"Prince Imrahil." I smiled faintly in return, though I ached to find what we needed and continue as soon as was possible. "It is good to see you."

"What brings you here? I gather this is not just a cordial visit, but that there is a more pressing matter." His smile faded. "What is the nature of your troubles?" Now that he had asked, I didn't know. I couldn't begin to describe the nature of my troubles, let alone this one in particular. So I decided to begin at the most sensible place: the beginning.

"A woman. Of Elven heritage. She is missing from the Wood. Whether she went of her own volition or whether she was forced, the fact remains that she is gone, and the only evidence we have suggests that she may be here. Or around here in any case." Imrahil's brow furrowed as he thought through the matter.

"Why do you believe she would come here?" He asked finally. I knew better than to mince my words or to tell him anything other than the truth.

"There have been attacks on Eryn Lasgalen. Orcs. This is nothing new, but as we cut down a band of them, we found tokens of a battle with some of your knights." Even as I spoke I realised how feeble an excuse this was. I elaborated. "They appeared to be perhaps the same ones that had attacked her home a while before. She was forced to flee with us to the wood because of them. If they followed her, then…" I let the implications explain themselves.

"Her home, you say? Who is this Elven woman you speak of? And where does she make her home?" Suddenly it occurred to me that Imrahil more than likely had known Yunalesca at some point. She did get around rather a lot, perhaps even fought at his side. It was a chance I had to take.

"Lady Yunalesca, of Fangorn, the Entwood. Do you know of her?" A smirk crossed the prince's face.

"If you are referring to the silver-haired, foul-mouthed 'Lady' that somehow managed to invoke the fear of the Valar in some of my finest fighters then yes, I know of her very well." He recalled with mirth. "Do you suggest that she has been kidnapped?"

"It is a possibility, though she could always have left of her own will. But she was not at her home when we went. We were told to journey to 'Where the land meets the sea, beneath the shadows of the White Mountains' to find her." There was a drawn-out silence. Cer and Firowen conferred quietly over the matter while Imrahil appeared to be mournfully making a decision.

"I know of one whom can help you. Come with me." We followed without a word. Who could this be? Perhaps someone that would know of these ancient legends the Ents appeared to speak of. A guide? Someone that had seen her? Anything was what I wished for. I pondered who he could possibly have spoken of as we wound down passages and corridors, deeper and deeper into the fortress, it seemed. A large expanse of oak complete with a brass handle on one side appeared before me as I shook out of my stupor. The Prince knocked three times, then when there was no audible answer opened the heavy door and light flooded into the corridor.

Inside the generously sized room was a window from which the daylight shone through to the bed draped in gauzy fabrics, several bookcases containing weather-beaten and dog-eared volumes of text, a table, a few chairs, a closet, and everything else one would expect to find within living quarters. At the end of the room was another, much more averagely sized door, which, as my eyes skipped over it, began to open. The prince stepped forward as a figure emerged from the doorway beyond, disguised by the brightness of the sun directly behind. The figure turned to shut the door and as the lighting returned to normal the first thing that took my breath away was the fact that the person before us sported snow-white hair that fell to the waist of their loose garment, arranged away from the face in a series of uncomplicated braids. Another was the sharp contrast with the darker skin of their elongated ears.

As he turned to face us, I realised that I was half hoping, against all logic, that it would be her. His face was entirely ageless, yet his deep grey eyes held an eternity of wisdom in their depths.

"Prince Imrahil. And others, I see. To what do I owe this honour?" He asked in an implacable accent, a contented half-smile making him seem as serene as his surroundings.

"Arandir, this is Prince Legolas of Eryn Lasgalen. Legolas, this is my good friend Arandir." Imrahil introduced, smiling.

"It is a pleasure." Arandir acknowledged.

"You…you look like…Yuna…" Words failed me. I could only stutter what came to mind. Confusion flashed across his face before understanding dawned. I noticed Imrahil slip out silently, but was too engaged to care.

"Ah, you mean the infamous grandchild of Nienna. Yes, I imagine I would resemble her, somewhat. In the same way you resemble your companion here." He nodded at Firowen. "We are, after all, on some level, of the same blood. We are all of Elven heritage, yet the subtle differences mark out the People. Although in our case the differences are more apparent, I suspect."

"Your people? Who are they? Why are there so few of you?" A pained look crossed his features momentarily, and he looked to the floor as he began to pace.

"Their name. That has been all but forgotten. Perhaps you would know us as a branch of the Avari? Although, as I'm sure you can see, we are no Orcs. We dwelt south of here, of the coast of what is now called the Isle of Tolfalas, hidden from human eyes by the clouds surrounding our once-great city." He stopped and looked up at me. "But all great things must one day end. We were foolish, and suffered the consequences. What remains is plain to see. Nearly all living memory of our civilisation has passed, and I am the sole remaining pure Avari in Arda, as far as I know. Yet this is only as of recently."

"What do you mean?"

"Four. No, three of us remained. The fourth gave his life so we might be saved. I live here, and have done so for quite some time since this empire was forged. As a companion and historian, even teacher to those that dwell here. And yet my existence is kept a secret, but this is for my own purpose. I enjoy the solitude. Another, however, she travelled to the east and to the south. Living among what you know now as the Haradrim. And the last, Nienna, as you may know, fled to Lórien, where she did the unthinkable. Married and reproduced." His tone was laced with regret. What I really wanted to know, however, was what all of this had to do with Yuna.

"Why was it so wrong for her to have a child? Surely you would want to preserve your race as best you could?" Celoril asked in a strange display of insight.

"Normally, yes. The birth of a child would be a wondrous occasion. But not when she was cursed to carry the blood of her mother, of all of our people, in her veins."

"The same blood that Yuna carries still…" I mused.

"Exactly. Our people can never return to the city. The risk is too great."

"The risk of what? Yuna may be there as we stand here talking, and she knows nothing of what you speak. There must be someone, somewhere, telling her to go there. What is the danger?" His face became grim.

"If what you say is true we may already be too late. The blood of our people, no matter how diluted, can command the very heart of the city itself. Open doors with barely a thought, pass through barriers created for a reason. Hidden within what remains of the city is the power to command nations of Men, Elves, Dwarves and Orcs, with the barest whim of the master driving brothers to attack brothers, never ceasing 'til their ends are met. We took the keys with us, and separated because of them. One keeping each. It was not long ago that I heard of the murder of the last, in Haradrim. The suspected culprit is her own aspiring pupil, who left with her piece. A month has passed since I awoke to find my third missing. Stolen from me. Even here. Even with my secrecy. He knows too much, whoever he is. And the last…from what I hear it has been passed onto Yunalesca herself. If all these things are put together, something we were never meant to control could come to light, and now the foolishness of many millennia past could destroy the world as we know it now. We have no time. You must go." His expression and voice grew more and more urgent as he continued. "Only one can I send to the city as long as the pact still remains. Choose quickly. The fate of us all shall rest in your hands."

I turned to the others at the sound of this new revelation, and a unanimous agreement looked in my direction. I had no idea what he meant by the last words he spoke, or by most of what he said throughout. But I had a feeling it would all become sickeningly clear soon enough. I turned back to Arandir to see him through the door, out on the large balcony jutting out from under the cliff edge that the palace rested on, the sea strangely calm far below. His arms stretched above his head as he called out to the heavens, chanting some long forgotten verse. We followed him, standing at a respectable distance, taking in this spectacle. And suddenly the chanting ceased, and all was silent once more aside from the sloshing of the sea against the cliff face and the whistling of the wind beneath the rock above. He looked back at us.

"One comes for you even now. Long ago, we made a pact with these majestic creatures. If it is to their convenience they will heed the call of any with our blood. They serve no masters, rather choosing to give aid to us. Their generations may have come and passed, but the pact remains, and forever will." As he spoke, mingled in with the swell of the ocean was another sound, and a shadow appeared on the waters. It descended regally, its gigantic wings beating a gale towards us as the Eagle found a perch on the wall of the balcony, at least twice as tall as myself as he stood proudly. His yellowed eyes skimmed over Arandir, then over to me, and held my gaze as I approached. Never had I heard an account from anyone the eagles chose to allow to ride them, but I was sure it would be a monumental experience.

"Good luck." I heard Firowen say. This was echoed by nods from around the group, which I returned as I climbed onto the thick balcony railing and, quelling the rising uncertainty in me, mounted the Eagle.

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Ruins. Everywhere. Towers lay broken on the cracked tiles of stone below. Like a child's plaything, destruction had swept through the city as the frustrated hand of the creator. There was no one to speak of around. Any corpses there may had been were long gone, turned to ashes and dust by the sun and time. And yet in my head people ran screaming past me, their eyes far back in their heads as they frenzied, some being chased, some chasing. And they all looked so much like me…

"What the hell is this supposed to be?" I demanded, whirling round to turn to my companion. And suddenly I was dreaming once more, and it was all so real. My hands covered in blood from my own nails digging into my tortured scalp. The dream ended as it had never begun. He took long, deliberate steps in my direction.

"What you were looking for. What we were both looking for." His hand moved to the pack at his side, all the while his gaze steady on me. Those forceful eyes boring into mine, so dark a brown they were almost…black…

"For the last time, why don't you tell me what it is you're looking for. What I'm apparently looking for, even." Something, somewhere was telling me to get out. This situation was too much. He was dangerous, bad news, all of that. But still, only human. This was my last justification for staying and not calling for the Eagle to stay as its huge wings propelled it into the sky. Only human.'Get out. Get out. Get out!'

"My dear, it doesn't even matter any more." His hand lifted, and suddenly, the second I looked into his eyes, I knew no more.

A.N. We love our little cliffies. And yeah, little update on things about us for FFAMasquerade2005 and anyone else that might be interested… :D I (Rai) am 16 going on 17 and Tali is 17. We were 13 and 14 respectively when this story was conceived and writing began. So, wonder where this stupidly implausible story came from? ;) ). Thanks a bunch to all our readers whom have still somehow put up with us for this long. But I'm afraid it's got to the point where we're wondering if anyone's actually reading this. There's no point in writing if it's just going to float around in cyberspace, is there? Please, please, please review! Even if it's only to say 'hey, I'm reading this, rock on' or whatever. It means a rather pathetic amount to the both of us :D Also, aware Nienna is the name of a Valar. Don't care. It's a damn pretty name.

Reviews:-

FFAMasquerade2005: Hope that cleared everything up ;)

Yavanna and SunStar: You guys (?) rock. We adore you. Read on…

Lilena: Don't give up on us just yet ;) more soon, promise.