Annamariah: You will have to wait and see all the answer to your questions Curious one. Have Patience. I am glad you liked the picture of Fingolfin, I just love it.

Ellfine: Sorry if I sounded complainy, I am always anxious to see what you think of a chapter. I wanted to have a nice sweet scene between them before…..er…..but here I'm getting ahead of myself.

GuadalupeI am so glad you like Serena, she is a lovely realistic person because I base her on many nursing friends, They all like her as well. Keep reading.

Aeroniel was walking across the glade toward the main tent; she was in search of the steward to tell him the news. There was a new bounce to her step, and her eyes shone brighter as she anticipated seeing the look on his face.

"Aeroniel!" a sharp voice rang out to the young woman, hard and chill as ice was the tone.

Lady Bethriel was there, Aeroniel knew she would come, she wouldn't be able to help herself.

"Bethriel. What have you to say?" said Aeroniel drawing herself up. She was as tall as the Lady now; no more did she fall under the cool green eyes of the Lady. She stared into them now as they bored into her own searching, searching for something.

"Before you accuse me of being hateful and never listening to thing I say, will you hear my words?" said the Lady her voice oddly calm.

Aeroniel considered the woman, and felt compelled to listen, be her words poison or friendly.

"Then speak, and I will listen."

"I love my people, deeply. This you know what you cannot know is of what was before we came to Arda. In Aman were we dwelt, I served daily at the feet of Finwe and his wife and loved them like my parents. Indis loved me as a daughter and declared once that I should be kin to her through one of her grandchildren." Bethriel paused clearing her throat.

"How she knew my heart I know not, but she saw I cared for one of them, though his name never passed my lips."

Realization rippled through Aeroniel like a pebble in one of the still pools. "Findekáno, you love him." she said.

"I have always loved Fingon." was the reply.

"But I..." began Aeroniel and then Lady Bethriel rounded on her.

"And what are you? You are but a child in our eyes, one whose life is a vapor in time. And what will you do? Steal the love and heart of one whose face you should never have seen! Fell was the day you came to Hithlum." spat Bethriel all her pent-up rage boiling forth.

"Fingon is a King among his people and his wife whether she is me or no, should be possessed of grace, honor and knowledge. What have you of these?"

Aeroniel stood quaking under the assault of words her face pale as an elf, her lips bloodless. Her chest heaving with breath as she fought to control her emotions, she would not reveal her anger to this woman.

"All you say is true, that I cannot deny. Fingon is a King, and I have nothing to offer him, but my love and an early death. And I have in very small ways the qualities of a queen, but I am possessed of a knowledge that you forget is mine. Something you can never touch or change."

"What?"

"Fingon loves me."

"While it pains me that I am not as queenly as he deserves, I know with his love I can reach that place of honor. And as Eru gives me breath I will never cease to strive to deserve his love and regard. And that is something your jealousy can not touch!"

"Then see what his love and yours will do to him! See the truth un-shaded by love!" Bethriel grabbed Aeroniel by the shoulders, and the Edain woman felt the alien presence of Bethriel's thought in her mind.

"Look and see his death! A death that should never be, but for your impudent love!" said Bethriel turning the girl around to see a dead elf lying on cold slab of stone. His face was worn by time, his ageless eyes closed forever by the chill hand of death she only was to know. She would have turned away, but Bethriel forced her gaze.

"No, you will see what none else would show you. See his people mourn him."

The elves of Dor-Lomin, and Hithlum filed by the body, their voices raised in grief, a heart wrenching lament for their dead King. Their words were sorrow and grief for one lost to death, the Valiant one brought low and bowed with time.

"No! No more! Show me no more, I beg you!" cried Aeroniel shutting her eyes to the sight.

"There is one more thing you must see!" was the relentless answer. "Behold your children!" Bethriel said her steely fingers digging into Aeroniel's arms cruelly.

Two children stood in the cold beside their father's body. How beautiful their faces how like Fingon they were. Etched into both faces was indescribable grief. And Aeroniel could see that they were facing not their father's death, but theirs as well. For would not her children be mortal also?

Suddenly Aeroniel's heart could take no more and she collapsed, falling out of Bethriel's grip to the ground. The blank world around them disappeared and Bethriel looked own at the fallen woman. She was white and motionless, blood flowing from her shoulders where the Lady's nails had cut the delicate flesh.

"By the gods what have you done woman!" came a harsh cry. Bethriel was flung aside as Fingon bent to his beloved's still form. The steward held her hand and was searching for a pulse, a flutter of life. Fingon cupped her face and called to her.

"Meldanya? Meldanya speak to me." He gathered her into his arms continuing to call her name.

Bethriel watched from where she had been cast and as she saw his concern for this Edain woman the girl's words came back.

"Fingon loves me and that is something you cannot touch."

"Maehsos! Maehsos quickly go for a healer! I will take her to her tent, get Nessima as well." He stood holding the limp form close to him, her blood staining his tunic and hands. Seeing the crimson liquid on his hand he paled, he turned to Bethriel his face like a thunder cloud his blue eyes clouded as a winter storm.

"Get out ….now."

And he was gone, striding away to be met by Finrod and his sister, but to none would he relinquish the burden he carried. Bethriel saw her nieces going to aid them and Alassë cast a glance back at her beautiful aunt standing alone blood staining her hands, and disbelief in her eyes.

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Warm and safe.

Deliciously warm and safe, that was how Aeroniel felt. Wrapped in a lovely secure embrace as someone softly hummed, and rocked her as a little child.

"Sleeping or awake? Yes, awake I think." said voice as she was shifted to lie on a cool soft bed. She felt someone lifting her head and holding a glass of water to her lips. A dull throbbing in her head and shoulders made her wince.

"You may well grimace my dear, you are going to have some very nasty scars on your arms if Finrod's salve is not successful."

"What are you talking about?" whispered Aeroniel opening her eyes a sliver. The light was too bright, making her head hurt even more.

Her eyes focused on a yellow blurry shape that loomed above her. It cleared and Aeroniel saw Artanis bending her head over to examine the bandages on her shoulder. In the corner of the room Finrod was mixing something together with a mallet and pestle.

"Do you not remember? You had a rather unfortunate run in with Lady Bethriel and you are now in my care." said Artanis settling down beside her and wrapping a silken robe around her.

"And in my care as well, don't forget sister that I am a good healer given the chance." interjected Finrod pushed his wheat hair back in a thong.

"Than come and display your marvelous skill before these turn to ugly scars." snorted Artanis.

"Very well pushy," said Finrod, he came and began cleaning the scratched flesh again. Aeroniel winced as the cold water met the raw wound, her breath hissing through her teeth. Patting it dry, Finrod carefully applied the slave its soothing quality easing away the pain.

Unknown to her, Finrod's empathic nature felt every emotion that boiled, and churned within her. His kind grey eyes saw through her mental shades and felt the burning pain that lay just under the surface of her heart. He even felt her panic when his sister spoke.

"Aeroniel, the Prince wishes to see you if you feel better. Shall I send for him? asked Artanis, going to the door.

"No, stay, I wish…t.to be alone tonight. I have much to think of and I don't think it would be wise to over do things." she turned her head away allowing her long hair to hide her face. '

Finrod noted her words with surprise; he took her right hand in his own cool palms and said softly "Do not allow Bethriel's bitterness to poison your life Ronnie. If it does you will have given her the victory."

Pressing his hand in return Aeroniel said "I just need a little time, please give Fingon my regards. I will try and rest now."

"Very well, we'll come by later to see if you need anything." he left, but Artanis lingered.

"What will you do Aeroniel; I see something is troubling you." She said.

Pulling herself up Aeroniel sat on the edge of the bed her eyes fixed on the floor. She absently touched her bandaged arm and said "Galadriel, would Fingon die if he should bind with me?'

Artanis sighed, a whisper of breath in the quiet tent. "I do not know, for such a union as you would create has never been among our people. It is not unheard of for an elf to love one of the Edain, but never has a marriage come of it. But I do know that an elf loves as no other creature and I do not wish to insult you by this, once we give our love we cannot take it back.'

"And Fingon, I believe cares deeply for you. And when you die, he will…….it is quite possible he would follow in your wake by his fea forsaking the hroa. In that sense only, I believe he would perish."

"And no matter which way you turn it, love costs more then anything else. Even a life" was the careful reply.

"Yes. However Aeroniel, be sure you are not sacrificing the wrong thing in whatever choice you make." Artanis said as she lifted the tent flap.

"Artanis, please send go to the King for me, I would wish to see him. I will come whenever he is available." Aeroniel said pulled her robe around her shoulders.

"Very well, but you are weary put your heart at rest for this night. May all your dreams be sweet ones."

Aeroniel felt tears pool in her eyes and a quick catch in her throat came as the salty drops broke free and coursed down her skin. Her head in her hands she curled into a tight ball on her bed and wept. She knew what must be done and it was tearing her soul apart.

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Finrod stepped out of the tent in time to collide with Fingon on his way in. Finrod took his cousin's shoulders, "Wait Fingon she needs to rest."

"Is she well?" he asked anxiously.

Finrod chose his words carefully. " She is fine physically, nothing that a little balm and bandages can't heal." He said seeing the question on his cousin's lips.

"Did she speak? Did she ask for me at all?" he asked looking at the tent reluctant to leave without seeing her for himself.

"She sends her greetings and regards." said Finrod absently, he looked away from Fingon's eyes. He released his grip on his cousin slowly saying "She is was greatly hurt by Bethriel, emotionally."

Fingon searched his face and backed away from his smaller cousin. Finrod returned the look steadily and Fingon felt a deep unease stir within him. Something was wrong, something was terribly wrong.

"Tell me Findaráto, what did you see?" asked Fingon his voice barely issuing from his lips. Finrod's eyes went up to the sky searching for the waning sun, finding it he watched its progress toward the horizon. He seemed drawn to follow it, walking passed his cousin to the edge of the glade.

Then turning so the light fell around him in a halo he said "She is leaving, Findekáno, she is going to leave."

Fingon felt bands of iron contract around his chest and breathing suddenly hurt. "How do you know?"

"Her spirit is heavy within her, and her eyes haunt my thoughts. Bethriel has shown her something to fear from a union with you." Finrod spoke his words falling like bitter rain on Fingon's heart. Fingon slowly clenched his fists, the nails biting deep into his palms, drawing blood.

"She fears for your life above anything else and if she can, she will separate from you though it kills her."

Without waiting to hear more, Fingon whirled away. He could not allow his cousin, not even his dear Finrod, to see his tears.

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Psalm of Nienna

Oh, Pools of Irvin, the sight of so much joy and sorrow. Your banks have seen every thing and received many tears into your sands. But never before have such a deep sorrow and parting ever taken place on your shores, as between the two lovers. For a son of the Eldar, for his love for a daughter of the Edain, a bitter parting is come.

Lift up your voice Irvin and cry to Eru! Why must your children be parted?

You see her reflected in the gleam of your rippling surface, her face stretched with tears, resolution burning her in heart. She has made a decision, and tries to withhold the storm of pain that tears her soul. Such despair in the eyes of one so young!

How long, Oh Eru! How long?

You caught the silent hidden pain of Finwe's proud grandson in crystal tears. You bear them away as precious gems, and present them to Eru. See here Lord your children's pain? Turn your far seeing eyes and behold their sorrow, see here your children's love? Pray the builder to make a bridge to span the gap and allow their sorrow's end.

Wisdom of Eru, bid me dry their tears ere the despair drives your son Findekáno to forsake his life!

How long Lord?

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Fingon walked swiftly through the camp, long, angry strides that bespoke much inner turmoil. His face was, as always, the same, calm face all royalty bear before their people, but his jaw was set and his eyes fiery. He was not a prince of the house of Finwe for nothing.

Daugon called out his name as he passed by, but he brushed by, as if the words had melted away in the cool evening breeze. Fingon did not slow down until he was completely out of the camp, halting when the only sound was the rhythmic hum of crickets, and his only companions the tall pines surrounding him.

Or so Fingon thought. He was standing there, not even bothering to try and slow the heavy beat of his heart, when someone politely cleared their throat behind him. Fingon didn't turn around, but only said grimly.

"You know it is incredibly annoying to be followed all the time Maedhros."

"I really must disagree." Maedhros said, in an apathetic tone "You see, I was actually coming out for a peaceful walk myself when you showed up, shaming me with your energy. You must tell me how you do it."

"Don't make small talk with me, Maedhros, you know as well as I do why I'm out here." Fingon said words sharp and flat.

"I can't be sure of course, but I can guess. You always seek the solitude of nature when you're in a particularly bad mood. So I'd say you've been nagged pretty badly by someone." Maedhros said causally.

"Nagged? Nagged is not the word. I'm being positively hounded, by everyone." Fingon exploded "Everywhere I go, I see cupped hands as people whisper their particular opinion of my "latest deed", insinuating glances constantly thrown my way. If there was a slow way to drive someone insane, this would be how they should go about it!"

There was a short interval of silence as the crickets continued scraping at their tiny violins, and a faint sound of laughter drifted in on a snatch of wind.

"Go on then. You obviously need a confidant, and since I don't see any other likely candidates, it might as well be me." Maedhros said.

"If you want to patronize me Maedhros you may as well go back to camp now, I'm not in the mood." Fingon said, looking away

"Very well then, I won't. But you had better say whatever it is that is making my friendly cousin so short with someone who only wished to help." Maedhros returned, stepping away instead of towards Fingon, a clever move.

"I am so tired of being helped, Maedhros, I don't need help." Fingon said, shoulders slumping a little "I just need someone to listen to me for at least five minutes together without sage giving's of unasked for advice."

"Go on then."

Fingon considered his cousin, friend, and brother. The tall elf was leaning into the gentle night breeze, allowing the wind to keep the silence pure.

"Bethriel has shown Aeroniel my death, cursed woman! She has seen that I would not turn from Aeroniel and sought anyway to reek her destruction. Finrod was with her soon after and he said that she is afraid for me. He said……Fingon paused barely choking out the words "…she is leaving though she has not yet spoken it."

Maedhros pitied his cousin as he saw the last words were tearing his very fea apart. He saw the deep shadow darkening Fingon's eyes, shielding the starlight hue, and causing his breathing to become more rapid. Wisely, he said nothing.

"And she will do it!" he continued desperately as he began to pace the clearing. "She will do it, she was always like that as a child and she will do it now. By the gods why does this have to be? I do not even know if my father could sway her."

"Would he try?" was the quiet query.

Fingon opened his mouth a moment to answer and then he shut it. "No, I don't think he would. He disapproves of the match." Fingon eyed Maedhros and said "As do you."

Maedhros turned to Fingon and said "I see that you're waiting for me to say something now. Very well, I will, but you must allow me to speak freely." He paused to see his cousin nod curtly.

"Fingon, do you remember the time when we were still in Aman and we were spending the day with Manwe?"

"Yes, but what does that..."

"Let me finish. I remember that we had been talking about the responsibility of ruling and being a king. I was bragging about being an heir and neglecting to ask any questions about being a good ruler. You however, were drinking in the wisdom of the Vala and seeking to learn everything you could from him."

Maedhros laughed, his huge frame shaking with mirth at the memory. "I also recall feeling jealous at the attention Manwe was giving you and not me. Of course being the humble elf that I was, I pouted, and beat you up for it later. But Manwe said something that I have never forgotten, something you understood and I did not."

Fingon said nothing; he could see where this was going.

Maedhros said "Manwe proposed a question of what would you do should your dearest friend betray you." Maedhros's words caught in his throat and he cleared it loudly. "I said I would kill him for revenge and have done with it, and yet you should that you would mourn him. When Manwe asked you why was your judgment so gentle you turned to me and said something that has haunted me ever since."

"You said "I should mourn my friend's betrayal, but I would mourn more for a friendship lost. And if it was you Russandol, how could I kill you?"

"Manwe said "And if you were the only one to save him from some great peril would you do it at the cost of your life?" and you said yes. You said that the strength of a man is not his capacity to kill, but the measure of his compassion."

Maedhros stopped his voice breaking and a few shamed tears found their way down his cheek. Wiping them away with his fingers he stared down at his single hand, the testament of Fingon living out that compassion as he had promised.

"I knew from that day you would make a better heir to the throne then I ever could, and I saw that Manwe thought so as well. But as the years went on it was just a memory until Morgoth and all those things which have been came to pass."

"I cannot see what you mean Maedhros," said Fingon.

Maedhros turned, his eyes fiery said "Look at your people Fingon! Look at them! How would they have faired under my thoughtless rule? Would you be meeting and building alliances if I was their King? No, and that is why I gave the Kingship to your father's house. If anything should happen to your father you will be King and they would need you as never before. If you bind with this woman, your death is eminent!"

He stopped chest heaving, "You must allow her to leave for her sake, your sake, and for the sake of those who love you . You do nothing wrong in allowing her to leave if she feels she must. Let her go Findekáno!"

Fingon stood like one made of stone as Maedhros spoke, his tall slender frame swaying slightly in the evening breeze. The gold bound in his hair winked back flirtatiously at the stars over head, he raised his hands before his eyes and saw the silver band covered with his own blood as it had been tinted with hers earlier.

"Where can she go?' asked Fingon, lowering his palms. ' I know she will not return to Hithlum, where can she go Russandol?"

They stood facing one another while below them music and dancing went on as dwarves, elves and men shared in the joy of unity between their peoples. While here between the cousins a single question blazed, yearning for an answer.

"You once asked me if I trusted you, do you remember?" asked Maedhros quietly. Fingon nodded, he would never forget that question before he severed his cousin's hand.

Finally he spoke, "I remember you saying that you had no choice."

"And we survived, Fingon….Fingon if she will let her come to Himring. I swear to guard her like my own sister. Please, Fingon consider this, speak to her, if she iwshes to come let her."

Fingon released the breath he had been holding, "I will go to my father, and seek his council. But I promise I will thinkon it." He turned to go, but stopped and without turning he said "Thank my friend."

Oooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

Samuel Anderson walked into the untidy office of Ronald Hadhafang, and found the good doctor sitting behind his desk staring at the leather portfolio in his hands. Seeing Anderson he got up and said "Oh! Dr. Anderson, please take a seat."

Anderson sat and crossed his legs and waited for the other man to speak. Ronald bit his bottom lip and began "Dr. Anderson I want to personally apologize for the way I acted the other day. And for the unfortunate actions of my friend, it was a huge misunderstanding and I hope you can forgive me."

"What about the folder Ron? What's up with that?" Anderson asked.

Ronald looked ashamed as he told Anderson about finding and how the pictures caught his eye. 'I may be a psychologist, but I can recognize some good painting when I see it, I never meant to keep them you understand, just borrow them for a while."

Anderson shook his head a little and said "That sounds just mildly unethical to me, but as long as you brought them back I guess we'll let it go." Sauron was amused at the thought of holding ethics, the idea was so…so…human!

As Ronald handed Sauron the folder he looked over Sauron's shoulder and watched as Bill, Serena and Maehsos snuck down the hallway with the passkey to all wards and cells.

He had to buy some more time. He flipped the folder open to the first picture and said "I think this is my favorite really, the two children on the horses, look how alive and happy they seem, like a Norman Rockwell painting in medieval times. If Norman Rockwell had lived then, and if people were fairies."

"Those aren't fairies Ronald, those are elves." said Sauron condescendingly.

"Oh, I thought elves were the little men in green suits and pointy hats?"

Sauron absentmindedly voiced his agreement, and flipped through the others pictures, and stopping just momentarily on the portrait of the steward before passing by it. Ronald was watching the clock and trying to calculate just how much time the others would need to find Lady Aeroniel if they could and get her out. Taking another breath he grabbed onto the only thing he had left.

"I also want to let you know that I'm sorry about that guy punching you. He's a little off from too much LSD, and fantasy reading when he was in college. I hope you can understand that he sees everyone as being evil." laughed Ron silently asking Bill to forgive him; it was all in a good cause anyway.

Anderson nodded and said "No problem, I mean, I don't like getting lammed in the breadbasket but I can understand if he's not quite all there. I mean that's our business right?"

They shared a stilted chuckle and Sauron rose to go, Ron shook his hand and as Anderson reached the door he turned and said "By the way Ron, if you want you could retire early if you want. I know how hard the job can be sometimes, so if you would like to call it a day I'll cover for you."

"No thanks, I think I'll just stick around a little longer and say good-bye to everyone, thanks for the offer though, Anderson."

After Anderson had disappeared down the hall Ron was off like a shot looking for the other group praying, and hoping they had found her, and were halfway to Mexico by now. He went through the different gates and doors and every room was looked through and yet he saw no one. Finally deciding that they must have gotten away he went out to the car.

It was gone, only thick black skid marks were left. That could mean they found her and, left in a hurry or that they were trying to escape.