And I'm back! And here's the next chapter!


~Duplicity~

The Elfling groaned in irritation, trying, but failing, to reach his Mother's brooch trapped in the vines just below the balcony. His arm was just too small! He was too small! But he had to get that brooch! It was the only thing he had left of his Mother. He would be damned if he couldn't retrieve that brooch! His brother would hate him if he lost it, especially in such a cursed place as this.

Whining in frustration, the Elfing furiously blinked the tears blurring his vision away. It wouldn't help him if he were to cry. Slumping over, half his body hanging over the balcony railing, dangerously high above the stony ground, the Elfling sniffled. His hopes of retrieving his mother's brooch was slowly diminishing. What kind of Elfling was he to lose his most precious possession? The only thing he had left of home? How could he have allowed himself to drop it?

His hand dangled just inches above the brooch, his fingers just barely grazing the tips of the flowers decorating it. He was so close...just a little closer!

Encouraging himself, the Elfling allowed himself to slide a tiny bit more over the railing, his feet now suspended higher off of the ground. One slip, and he would plummet to his death. This thought caused the Elfling to panic, fearfully eyeing the ground far below him then the brooch.

No...He needed that brooch!

Feeling determined, the Elfling banished all thoughts from his head, focusing on the brooch lying trapped within the vines. It was taunting him, mocking him for being unable to grab it. He made a wild grab for it, but his hand missed, ruffling the vines instead. The brooch, loosened from its hold, slipped further away from the Elfling's reach. The Elfling pitifully whimpered, wondering what he could do. Could he get the brooch to fall?

He was about to shake the vines in order to loosen the brooch even more then jerked his hands away. No! If he did that, the brooch would fall onto the rocks and break! He couldn't break the brooch! Then... The Elfling wondered to himself, What could he do?

A couple of tears slipped down his cheeks as the Elfling felt that getting the brooch back was a lost cause. He would never get it back. It was lost.

One more try.

The Elfling sniffled again and reluctantly stretched his arm out as far as he could reach, his fingers splayed out in the air as he tried to grasp the brooch, slipping further over the balcony railing. Now, he was dangerously teetering over the edge. One wrong move and-

"Elrond!"

With a shrill cry, the Elfling's body, greatly unbalanced, tipped forward and disappeared over the edge of the balcony. Utter fear and panic seized the Elfling's entire being as he began to tumble downwards towards the ground.

He was going to die!

Suddenly, the Elfling jerked to a stop in mid-air, and with a startled shriek, was jerked up and back over the balcony railing.

The sound of his heart pounding drummed in the Elfling's slightly pointed ears as he was turned in the air to face his savior, his body going into shock from his near-death experience.

His heart suddenly forgot to beat as wide, dark brown, eyes clashed with vibrant blue.

HE had saved him?

The Ellon, holding him in the air by the back of his tunic, stared intently at the Elfling, and the Elfling barely recognized the look of worry and fear dancing in those eyes. The red-haired Elf then narrowed his eyes on the Elfling and barked out,

"What were you thinking?!"

The Elfling hardly heard him over the sound of his heart frantically beating against his chest, but he still flinched as the frightening Elf continued,

"Were you even thinking?! You could have died if you'd fallen!" The fear choking the Elfling didn't allow him to hear the underlying tone fear latching onto the ends of the Ellon's words, or the immense relief reflected in his steely eyes.

The Elfling's mind was spinning, his arms and legs dangling limply in the air as he stared at the Ellon. Why had he saved him? He hated him, didn't he? He wanted nothing to do with him or his brother, so...why save him?

"Never do that again, do you understand?" The Ellon sternly ordered. The Elfling said nothing, too in shock.

Tears pricked at the Elfling's eyes and a sob emitted from his tiny lips as he dropped his head and started to cry.

The Ellon stared at him for a long while, awkwardly wondering what he should do then slowly gathered the Elfling close and cradled him against his chest, using one arm to balance him.

The Elfling curled against him, tucking his head beneath the Ellon's chin and digging his fingers into the deep red tunic his savior was wearing as he sobbed. He had been so scared, so frightened... He could've died and that was what shook him badly.

That was the only thing running through his mind.

That, and the thought that he was never going to climb up things ever again.

The Ellon holding him tensed, uncertain as to what to do. He attempted to peel away the Elfling clutching onto him, but to no avail. The Elfling was determined not to let go.

Reluctantly accepting the fact that the Elfling was stuck with him, the Ellon turned away from the balcony when something in the corner of his eye caught his attention. Glancing down, the Ellon bent over and grabbed at the object that had caught his eyes then turned back around, entering his home.

He was deep in thought as he traversed through the grand corridors of his large home, wondering why he was suddenly fine with comforting the Elfling. He'd never wanted anything to do with them in the first place...and yet...when he saw the Elfling hanging over that balcony rail...

He'd felt frightened for the Elfling, which had caused him to call out to him. He only succeeded in startling the poor Elfling and nearly sending him to his own death.

Subconsciously, his grip on the Elfling tightened.

Glancing down, the Ellon found that the Elfling had quietened a bit, nestling closer, taking comfort in him. His brows beetled together. This Elfling was most strange. Unlike his brother, he was calm, perceptive, and relaxed. He never spoke, unless his brother addressed him, but, unlike his brother, this Elfling seemed to accept the fact that they were prisoners.

The Elfling would watch him and his only living brother a lot and didn't seem to have any issue with either of them.

The Ellon looked up when he found that his feet had taken him to the Dining Hall, where they were supposed to have met several moments ago.

Makalaurë will know what to do, the Ellon decided, shifting the Elfling so he was more comfortable and opening the door to the Dining Hall.

He entered the spacious room, filled with few tables, and watched as the few Elves seated around the Family table turned their heads to greet him.

"It is about time, Mae-" Makalaurë began then stopped, catching sight of the trembling Elfling in the Ellon's arms. "Maedhros?" He raised questioning eyes to meet his brother's, silently asking him what had happened.

"Elrond?" Elros's worried voice sounded, and Maedhros looked to find the Elfling seated at the table rising slightly in his seat, worry and concern dancing in his grey-brown eyes. "What's wrong with him?" He immediately demanded to know, suspiciously eyeing Maedhros.

"Your brother will be fine," Maedhros answered, his tone clipped then turned to look at Makalaurë and said in Quenya, "You may want to keep a closer eye on him, Kano."

Makalaurë concernedly glanced up at him, wondering what his brother meant. "Did he go somewhere he shouldn't have? I apologize, Toron. I-" He began, but Maedhros cut him off.

"He would have been severely injured, possibly dead, if I hadn't caught him."

Makalaurë's expression morphed into one of alarm and the minstrel immediately demanded, "What happened, Maedhros? He is shaking like a leaf!" The minstrel, who had risen from the table and walked over to them, gently placed a hand on Elrond's back, rubbing soothing circles in an attempt to comfort the still-frightened Elfling.

Maedhros explained in Quenya, "The balcony in the Western Corridor, the one nearest my room."

Makalaurë briefly looked away from Elrond, silently imploring Maedhros to continue, not understanding what his brother was saying.

"He nearly fell- In fact, he did tip over the edge."

"What!?" Makalaurë exclaimed, horrified, his deep blue eyes widening. "Is he hurt? Is he alright? Why is he not in the Healing Halls? Maedhros?!" The questions tumbled from his lips frantically, and Maedhros had to reach over and shake his brother in order to silence him.

"Calm yourself, Kano. I managed to catch him in time."

Makalaurë's eyes blinked rapidly and his shoulders slumped in relief as he threw Maedhros a look that told him he was eternally grateful to him. Maedhros sharply nodded in return. "Is he alright?" Makalaurë quietly inquired, brushing away some of Elrond's hair from his face. Elrond whimpered and gripped Maedhros's tunic tightly, refusing to be taken away from him. Makalaurë smirked lightly at Maedhros's predicament.

"Well, it appears that he is glued to you, Maedhros."

"Indeed." Maedhros dully muttered, though he found he didn't mind. "I am not surprised. He has every right to be frightened but..."

"You do not think you should be the one to comfort him." Makalaurë knowingly finished for his brother, smiling and shaking his head. "Maedhros, Maedhros..."

Maedhros raised an eyebrow at Makalaurë. Did his brother know something he didn't?

"What?"

Instead of answering, Makalaurë tugged his brother's arm and led him over to the others. "Come, sit at the table."

Maedhros did as bidden and took a seat in the chair at the head of the table. Makalaurë sat to his right, Elros beside him, and another, much younger, Ellon sat to his left. Elrond never once moved, and still stubbornly refused to be parted from Maedhros. Maedhros was at a loss for what to do, inquisitively glancing over at his brother, who was still smirking in amusement.

"What?" He asked again in Quenya.

"You truly do not know?"

"Apparently not?" Maedhros replied, wishing his brother would just answer his question. It was a rather simple one, really, it was only Makalaurë who was making it much more complicated than it truly was.

Makalaurë smiled that mysterious smile of his, and Maedhros could see the debate taking place behind his brother's eyes. Makalaurë's eyes had always been expressive. It was a weakness of his Maedhros had caught on to during Makalaurë's early elflinghood.

This debate Makalaurë was having clearly told Maedhros he was deciding whether or not to let Maedhros on whatever secret he was withholding from him.

"Makalaurë,"

Knowing Maedhros had made the decision for him, Makalaurë rolled his eyes and said in fluent Quenya, "You are the protector, Maedhros."

"Protector?"

"Aye." Makalaurë nodded, watching as Elros ate the food on his plate. The Elfling was watching them closely, suspicious and wary. "The little one feels safe with you, just as we all did when we were younger." The minstrel paused for a moment, reminiscing, and grief briefly passed over his features. "Anytime we had a nightmare, we came to you, remember?" He rhetorically asked Maedhros. "We always believed you could chase them away- save us from whatever monsters our imagination had conjured up...It is the same for the little one." He jerked his chin in Elrond's direction as he continued with his explanation. "He does not feel afraid when he is near you. You know, the other day, he had a nightmare." Makalaurë stopped for a moment in order to chew on his food then continued once he swallowed. "He wanted to go to you, I could tell."

"Me?" Maedhros could hardly believe what his brother was telling him. He was a kinslayer, as was Maglor...But, Maedhros knew he was the more frightening of the two with only one hand and scars. He knew many felt intimidated by him because of his appearance. Thankfully, most of his scars were hidden from sight, except for the one that ran over his eye and down his cheek.

"Yes." Makalaurë answered, looking to Maedhros with a soft smile. "I asked him if he wanted me to wake you, but he was afraid you would not wish for him to disturb you, and so, he came with me to my chamber."

Maedhros gazed down at the little Elfling in his arms, suddenly feeling a pull to the little one. He suppressed the urge to sigh. As much as he wanted to deny it, the twins, especially Elrond, who'd taken time to get to know Maedhros, had wormed themselves into his heart. He'd grown fond of them, just like his brother. Though he kept his distance, Maedhros still watched over the two. Elrond in particular, because Maedhros could sense something wasn't quite right with the Elfling. His silence was disconcerting to Maedhros. It bothered him. Elrond had yet to speak a word, and it'd already been a year since the two had been brought to his home. Whenever Maedhros left Himring, he would often think of the twins. He knew they were safe with Makalaurë, but the Elflings also needed to learn.

Thankfully, it wasn't difficult to find a tutor for the young Elflings. Elrond had befriended Erestor, much to the Fëanorions' surprise. Erestor was well-known for being a secluded Elf who preferred to spend the day scouring the library. He was renowned for his sharp tongue and wit, as well as his extensive knowledge and was helpful to Maedhros whenever he would seek counsel. Erestor, Maglor and Maedhros found, had a soft spot for the twins as well. He never showed it, but whenever the twins needed something, he was always willing to help. Elrond could be seen sticking with Erestor often, pattering after the Elf whenever he would wander through the library in the hopes of finding a new book. Then, Maedhros would watch as Erestor selected something from the shelves, seat himself down, and begin to read. Elrond, after some hesitation, would clamber up on the chair next to Erestor and nestle against his side to read with the Elf. Erestor never seemed to mind, and Maedhros was glad the twins had someone other than he and his brother to turn to.

"You know, Kano..." Maedhros began, bringing himself back to the present when he heard Elrond release a contented sigh. He looked down to find that the Elfling had fallen asleep, his eyes shut and his chest rising and falling steadily.

"Hm?" Makalaurë hummed, urging his brother to continue. Maedhros pursed his lips together, deep in thought then turned to Makalaurë.

"Seeing him out there, on the balcony..." Maedhros started to say, images dancing in his mind as the Ellon recalled what had happened but moments prior. "I thought he would fall...I..." He sighed heavily, his brow furrowing as he pondered over his next words. "I called out to him, and that was when he fell." Maedhros raised his eyes to meet Makalaurë's gaze. "It...It scared me, seeing him topple over the edge..." His grip tightened on the Elfling as he remembered vividly how Elrond had shrieked and slide forward, vanishing as he slipped over the edge. "I thought for certain that I was too late to grab him...I didn't think. All I knew was that I had to save him, that I couldn't let him go."

Makalaurë gazed at his brother in astonishment and understanding. "You have grown fond of them." He stated rather than questioned.

Maedhros slowly nodded. "I...believe I have, Kano." To think that one day, they would have to let them go...

The thought tore at Maedhros's heart. He'd warned his brother several times not to become too attached to the twins, and now look at him. It would be difficult for him to let Elrond and Elros go.

'Cursed Oath...' Maedhros morbidly thought to himself, cursing his own father. 'Why did you create the Silmarils, Atar?' He sighed quietly, not realizing that he was carding his fingers through Elrond's soft hair. 'Imagine the life we would be living had none of this happened...'

But in that life...There would probably not have been an Elrond and Elros there to pester Maedhros. He would not have had the opportunity to raise them, and so, Maedhros was content to watch the young twins grow into young Ellons and teach them all that he knew.

He made sure to ignore the triumphant look Makalaurë was casting him, but allowed a small grin to grace his lips at the joy he sensed radiating from his brother.

Yes. He would cherish the little time he had to spend with the twins...And they would become like family.


~Duplicity~

"-Rond."

"Elrond!"

Elrond started, blinking rapidly as he was pulled out of the memory back to his balcony in Rivendell. He raised a hand to cradle his head as he dazedly searched for whoever had called out to him.

He looked to find both Erestor and Glorfindel leaning over him, watching him with concern. Even Thranduil, who was visiting for a brief time, had walked closer to see if Elrond was well.

"Glorfindel?" Elrond questioned, shutting his eyes as he tried to will away the feeling of being light-headed. His vision blurred when he reopened his eyes, and Elrond found himself feeling a little worried. Was he growing ill?

"Thank the Valar, Elrond! You gave us a fright!" The Balrog-Slayer sighed in relief, clasping Elrond's shoulder and peering closer at the Peredhel, his dark blue eyes swirling with growing concern. "Are you well? Did you have a vision?"

"Nay." Elrond negated, shaking his head. He immediately regretted having done so, seeing as it made his vision spin even more. The world twisted and turned at such odd angles that it made Elrond nauseous. "I was merely...trapped in a memory."

Erestor tilted his head, catching the way Elrond had spoken. "What is it, Elrond? Was there something about this memory that struck you?" He inquired, knowing Elrond was puzzling over whatever it was he'd remembered.

"I'm not sure..." Elrond truthfully answered, rubbing both eyes. Colors blended together and became as one when Elrond opened his eyes once again.

Something was definitely wrong.

"Elrond?"

"I'm...I don't understand why I remembered that particular memory." Elrond murmured, reaching for his glass of water. His hand missed by inches, causing the three other Elves' worry to spike even more. Thranduil delicately lifted the glass off of the table and placed it in Elrond's hand, noting the way the Peredhel's eyes were glassy and dazed. His speech was also somewhat slurred together.

"What was it about?" Glorfindel asked him, giving Erestor a questioning look. It was a look that asked the dark-elf whether or not they needed to bring Elrond to a Healer. Erestor subtly shook his head, raising a hand as if to tell the Golden Elf to wait a moment.

"I was in Himring...Maedhros and Maglor, even Elros, was there." Elrond slowly answered. "I was trying to retrieve Elwing's brooch..."

Recognition and remembrance flashed in Erestor's violet orbs. "The day Maedhros saved you from falling to your death."

"Aye." Elrond nodded, affirming Erestor's words.

"What?" Glorfindel and Thranduil chimed, looking down at Elrond, hoping he would explain himself.

A pained and fond smile grew on Elrond's lips as he recalled the memory, striving to ignore the abnormal feeling spreading through his being. "I was a young Elfling, barely passed six summers old and dropped Elwing's brooch into a patch of vines growing beneath the balcony. Long story short, I tried to retrieve it, discovered I was too small, Atar startled me, and I fell. Thankfully, Maedhros was quick enough to break my fall before I could plummet to my death. I remember that I refused to let him go afterwards." Elrond lowered his dark brown eyes to stare at the ground. "How I miss those days..." He uttered quietly, his voice reflecting how much Elrond longed to be with Maedhros and Maglor again.

"You will see them again, Elrond." Thranduil assured the Peredhel, swirling the wine in his glass as he reclined back into the seat he'd chosen to sit in. Glorfindel flashed him an irked glance, scowling when Thranduil purposefully took his seat, but gladly took a seat next to Erestor.

"I do hope so." Elrond softly said, raising his head up to study Earendil's star. "I have no way of learning if Atar has been released...or if he ever will be. I have yet to hear from Atto..."

All of a sudden, Elrond's head was ringing. The Peredhil felt his body suddenly growing light, as if he were going to faint and felt alarm trickle through him.

"Glorfindel-"

Glorfindel had already leaped to his feet and closed the distance between him and Elrond, crouching beside Elrond's seat worriedly. Erestor and Thranduil had also stood, somewhat alarmed as Elrond went pale, his face draining of all color.

"What is it, Elrond? What is wrong?"

"I do not know..." Elrond managed to say, his words slurring together heavily. He struggled to stand and staggered against Glorfindel when the Twice Reborn Warrior carefully helped him up. "I feel...faint..." His tongue felt heavy in his mouth as Elrond forced himself to speak and the Peredhel was struck weak as his knees gave out beneath him.

"Elrond!" Erestor and Thranduil shot forward to rescue the Elf from having to greet the unforgiving ground, but Glorfindel beat them to it. Neither bothered to hide the worry they felt as Glorfindel knelt to the ground, holding Elrond close as the Peredhel heavily leaned against him, his head limply dropping against his shoulder.

"Elrond, what's wrong? Mellon-nin!" Glorfindel demanded to know, his tone sharper than he meant it to be from worry. He gently shook the near-unconscious Peredhel, trying to keep him awake.

"Elrond, answer us!" Erestor ordered, placing the back of his hand against Elrond's forehead in search of a fever. He immediately whipped his hand back, hissing, "By Varda, he is ice cold!"

"Take him inside." Thranduil brusquely commanded Glorfindel, who didn't hesitate to follow the Wood-Elf into Elrond's study. Together, the three Elves comfortably settled Elrond onto the chaise nearby.

"Elrond," Erestor worriedly called out, patting Elrond's cheek in the hopes of getting him to open his eyes. "Elrond, mellon, please."

"Res...?" Valar, he sounded as weak as he felt, his voice a mere breath on the wind. What was happening to him? Elrond managed to crack open his eyes, but he knew he wouldn't be able to keep them open for long. His strength was fleeing from him at a disturbing rate.

"Aye, I'm here." Erestor told him, grasping one of Elrond's hands the way he'd done many times before when Elrond fell ill as an Elfling.

"I'm needed elsewhere...Watch...Imladris...in my stead..." Elrond barely murmured, then his eyes slid close and the Elf fell into a deep reverie, following the voice of Din calling out to him.

"What? Elrond? Elrond!" Erestor didn't bother to keep his voice from wavering, fear growing within him when Elrond didn't respond to his calls.

"What in Eru's name..?" Glorfindel was at a loss for words. Neither of the three Elves had any idea of what had just taken place, only that Elrond was now under some sort of comatose state.

"I don't understand..." Erestor whispered as he tried to figure out what was wrong. Glorfindel placed a hand on Erestor's shoulder when the dark Elf leaned against him.

"Neither did Elrond." Thranduil murmured. "Something is amiss..."

"You don't say..." Glorfindel sarcastically muttered. "Ai!" He grunted when Thranduil cuffed him, the Sinda not having appreciated Glorfindel's sarcasm.

"Don't you sense it?" Thranduil asked them, his piercing blue orbs flickering to the open window.

Erestor and Glorfindel were silent, feeling what it was Thranduil was pointing out. For some reason unknown to them, they felt...different. The atmosphere was different...Everything... It was a wrong and an uncomfortable feeling.

"Something is going to change." Erestor ominously stated. Thranduil continued to stare at the black sky outside while Glorfindel bit his lip in thought.

"Something drastic." The Golden-Elf added, bowing his head in concern.

"Elrond is involved in whatever it is." Thranduil told the two advisers. "We must hope that Elrond will tread carefully."

"He is wise," Erestor reminded them, still watching Elrond, "Whatever it is he must do, Elrond will ensure he takes precaution."

At that moment, the doors to the study swung open and a tall Elf radiating with authority and warmth entered. Erestor was the first to notice him, and when he did, reeled back in shock, his hand flying out and grabbing Glorfindel's arm.

"Glorfindel!"

"Erestor?" Glorfindel jerked his head down towards Erestor, wondering what was wrong with his friend.

"Impossible!" Glorfindel heard Thranduil say and followed both their gazes to see what had caught their eyes. Once his gaze landed on the person standing in the doorway, Glorfindel felt his body freeze in disbelief.

The Ellon in the doorway tilted his head at the Elves in front of him, wondering what was wrong with them. They looked as if they'd seen a ghost!

"What manner of sorcery?!" Glorfindel gaped, not believing his own eyes.

"My friends," The newcomer slowly began, a little concerned. "Is everything well?"

"I do not know," Thranduil answered, narrowing his eyes dangerously. His demeanor instantly changed from his normal, aloofness into a shrewd, calculating one. "Why do you not tell me?"


~Duplicity~

Maglor hummed quietly as he started pinning up the decorations all throughout the Main Hall of his Father's home, helping to prepare for the upcoming Feast. His brothers were also helping out, but they were spread out in separate areas of the home. Fingolfin's family was also helping them to put up all of the decorations, set the tables, and clean the entire home.

'Nolofinwë, Maglor.' Din reminded Maglor, and the minstrel quelled the urge to face-palm. In order to ensure that he didn't slip-up and call someone by their Sindarin name, he would need to remind himself to refer to his family and all those he knew by their Quenya name.

Easier said than done.

Servants bustled about the entire room, chattering animatedly with one another. Maglor smiled at the excitement and joy he could sense radiating in the air. The entire atmosphere seemed to glow from the fact that there was to be a Feast celebrating his return. Amrod and Amras- Ambarto and Pityo- Maglor reminded himself, after having been told of the celebration, had been nothing but hyperactive for the entire week. Finwë, who was also helping to set up for the Feast, had taken some time off in order to spend time with Maglor, something the minstrel always looked forward to every day. He also made sure to spare some time for Curvo, who, Maglor did discover, was feeling lonely. Morifinwë was barely seen or heard from during the days Nolofinwë's family was around. Nelyo and Findekano could be seen catching up over everything they'd been doing during the past three years and Tyelkormo was teaching Irissë how to better her archery skills. Right now, however, Irissë was running about the Main Hall, fetching whatever decorations the Elves needed and helping out whenever she was needed. Tyelkormo had vanished, most likely working on ensuring the grounds were clean.

Speaking of Curvo, Maglor thought to himself, shifting from where he sat atop a wooden ladder, I haven't seem him all day.

'He's in the corner, sulking.' Din told him, sympathetically. 'Poor Elf. He looks terribly lonely.'

Maglor looked in the direction Din had mentally shown him to see Curvo curled up on a chair in the shadows of the corner nearest the doors. He frowned deeply at the blank stare Curvo was burning into the ground as the Elf rested his head on the arm of the chair and heaved an uninterested, bored, sigh.

It reminded him of the old times...When Curvo would normally be left to amuse himself when everyone else was busy. Well...They weren't necessarily busy, they just claimed to have work they needed to do.

Maglor was guilty of having done that numerous times to Curvo and his other brothers.

Sighing softly, Maglor checked on the frilly decoration he'd just pinned into place, making sure it looked neat, then started to climb down the ladder, catching sight of Irissë running down the Hall towards Turukano, who'd been working beside him. Looking up, Maglor made sure the decorations he'd put up were in order as he descended the ladder.

"Irissë!" A voice called out from the other end of the hall, and the adolescent Elleth turned her head to see who needed her. "Can you fetch a few- watch out!"

Irissë snapped her head to look back in front of her and shrieked when she went crashing into the ladder Maglor had just been climbing down. A pained yelp echoed in the Main Hall followed by a startled grunt from Maglor as he slipped down the last few rungs of the ladder and fell back onto the tiled floor awaiting him. Instead of landing on the cold, hard, ground, Maglor felt himself falling against something softer but didn't have time to see what had cushioned his fall as he watched the ladder teetered dangerously to the side. The ladder, miraculously, did not fall.

Irissë was the first of the two to recover and the Elleth gasped sharply, rushing over to Maglor. "Makalaurë! I'm so sorry! I really- I should have- What- Are you okay!?" She sporadically asked the minstrel, worriedly leaning over the dazed Ellon.

"Erm..." Maglor glanced up at the Elleth, watching as Irissë danced on the balls of her feet, concerned. "I'm fine, Irissë."

"Are you sure? You're not hurt at all?" Irissë inquired, her cheeks glowing red.

"I am certain he is fine, Irissë." A voice behind Maglor assured the anxious Elleth. "After all, he did tumble into me instead of greeting the ground."

Oh...

No wonder he felt his fall had been softer than it should've been.

"Turukano?" Maglor turned his face to see that it had indeed been his cousin he'd fallen onto. "Forgive me, Turukano! I did not mean to..." Standing, Maglor turned to help Turukano stand. Turukano gratefully took his hand and allowed Maglor to pull him up, then smoothed his light robes. Maglor was a little taken aback when he found that he had to raise his head in order to meet Turukano's gaze and blinked. "You...You've grown." Was all he managed to say, earning an amused look from Turukano as the dark-haired Ellon looked down at him.

"That or you've shrunk."

"What?" Maglor raised an eyebrow at this, challenging Turukano. "I'm sorry. I'm afraid I didn't hear what you said."

"Indeed?" There was a hint of a smile playing on Turukano's lips. It quickly vanished when Turukano remembered the reason he had been passing by. "Makalaurë, there..."

Maglor grew curious, wondering what Turukano wanted to tell him, but the Ellon did not continue. Shaking his head, his dark mane swaying with the movement, Turukano looked away to study the decorations.

"Nevermind. Tis not important." Turukano said. Then, as if to keep Maglor from asking him what he wanted to say, he asked, "You do realize that your banner is backwards, correct, Makalaurë?"

"It is?" Maglor turned to see if what Turukano said was true, and to his embarrassment, did find that he'd put the banner up backwards. "Oh, by the Valar...What was I thinking? I probably was not thinking at all." The minstrel muttered as he climbed back up the ladder to fix the banner. "Thank-you, Turukano, for pointing that out to me."

"Of course." Turukano nodded, watching as Maglor flipped the banner over and pinned it back into place. "...Varda's name, Makalaurë..."

"Something wrong, Turukano?" Makalaurë inquired, glancing down at Turukano and Irissë, who had pressed a hand over her mouth to stifle her laughter. "What is it?"

Irissë dropped her hand, innocently lacing her fingers together behind her back as she giggled. "I may not be able to read that well, but I can read!" She brightly told Makalaurë. "And the words on that banner-" She dramatically started, pointing at the banner, "Are backwards!"

"Truly?!" Makalaurë's eyes drifted back to the banner and he read the words on it. "For the love of all that's green..." Irissë was right. The words were backwards! "Who made this banner?!"

"From the looks of it, Ambarto and Pityo." Turukano answered, tilting his head in order to study the banner more intensely. "I do remember Findekano saying he and Nelyafinwë were helping the twins on a little project."

Makalaurë felt warmth blossom in his chest as he looked back at the banner. Now that Turukano mentioned it, he could tell the twins were the ones responsible for putting the banner together. It looked as if they had worked hard on it, too. For the words were neatly printed, with some shakiness here and there, and there were a few splotches of paint littered about the white fabric, but other than that, it was perfect. There were even...

Maglor's breath hitched and his hands twitched, nearly dropping the banner.

Seven stars.

The twins had painted seven stars around the banner, with a brighter one in the center of the two words on the banner.

One star was red- evidently meant to symbolize Nelyo. The second was a forest green color.

That was definitely Tyelkormo.

The third was a dark violet. Morifinwë.

The fourth star was a shady red, which told Maglor that it had to be Curufin. The last two were purple, which represented Ambarto and Pityo.

In the center, underneath the larger, and brighter star, was a dazzling blue star, glistening in the sunlight streaming through the windows.

It was him.

Shakily, as if willing it to be a dream, Maglor raised a hand to brush his fingers against his star.

Seven stars.

Down below, Irissë grasped her brother's hand, tugging it. Turukano glanced down at his sister.

"Is Makalaurë alright, Toron?" Irissë asked, watching as a haunted look overcame Makalaurë's features.

"I'm not sure, Irissë." Turukano honestly answered, watching Makalaurë with narrowed eyes. His gaze switched from Makalaurë to the seven stars, wondering why Makalaurë looked a little sickly and shocked. "Perhaps the banner reminded him of something...unpleasant?"

Seven stars...


~Duplicity~

"Makalaurë!"

The powerful shout echoed down the corridor of the Family Hall followed by Maglor's bedroom door flying open and slamming against the wall.

"What!?" Maglor shot up in his bed, his heart skipping a beat when a shadow raced across the room and leaped onto his bed. "Who- Morifinwë! What are you doing?"

"Makalaurë, I swear by the Valar-" Morifinwë began, clutching Maglor's shoulders and shaking him, "If you do not help me, I will do something I may or may not regret later on!"

Maglor's hands flew up to grip his brother's wrists, wondering what in Arda's name could be wrong. "What is it, Moryo? What's wrong?" His head jerked back and forth as Morfinwë continued to shake him.

"What's wrong? What's wrong?" Moryo repeated, nearly snarling. Thankfully, he stopped jerking Maglor back and forth when he suddenly went still. Sadly, he wasn't still for long. "I'll show you what's wrong! Get moving!" Without waiting for Maglor to wake up a little more, the dark elf yanked him out of the bed and forced him to follow him out of the room.

"Wait, Moryo, where are we even going?" Maglor inquired. It was the dead of night and pitch black outside. The only light was from the lightning provided by the storm that was brewing outside. Studying his brother, Maglor found that Moryo was still dressed and his boots were muddy. He was also damp, telling Maglor that he'd been meandering about outside. "What were you doing?"

"Clearing my head." Came the clipped response as Moryo led Maglor down the Family Hall and turned left, bringing them through the Guest Hall. Moryo's gait was brisk and hasty as the Elf continued on, leaving Maglor to jog in order to keep up. "And then I found it. I always do!"

"Found what?" Maglor asked when Moryo came to an abrupt hall in front one of the grand windows in the center of the hall. "Moryo?"

Moryo glared out the window then raised a finger to poke the window. "Look out there."

Maglor, confused, did as he was told, stepping closer to his brother and following the direction he was pointing. The darkness of the night was lit up by a brief flash of lightning and Maglor was able to see a glimpse of a stone cliff outside the borders of their home.

"Do you see it?" Moryo inquired, sparing a glance at his brother. Maglor's brow furrowed as the minstrel searched for whatever could've possibly have caught his brother's attention. "You don't." Moryo sighed at this and pulled Maglor closer. "Look at the stone."

"Right."

"Do you see the crack?"

"Crack?" Maglor repeated, narrowing his eyes. He scanned the stone cliff again, looking for the crack his brother had mentioned. The lightning that ignited the sky flashed a couple of times and Maglor was able to find the so-called 'crack' Moryo was referring to. It was small and jagged. It was hardly noticeable and Maglor would've missed it if he hadn't been searching for it. "Yes, I see it." He told his brother, turning to look at him, hoping his brother would explain what they were doing.

"Good." Moryo muttered. "Look at it again."

Maglor did as he was told, not exactly sure why he had to look again. What was so interesting about a crack in the stone cliff?

"Don't just stare at it, Toron. Actually look." Moryo advised, eyeing the crack himself. "Do you see it?"

"I don't understand." Maglor admitted, shaking his head. "What am I looking for?"

Moryo just threw him a look. "Surely you're not that blind, Makalaurë." Jerking his chin in the direction of the crack, Moryo demanded for Maglor to look again.

Sighing heavily, Maglor looked again. Concentrating, he narrowed his focus on the crack and analysed it thoroughly, searching for whatever Moryo had found so interesting about it.

And that was when he saw it.

Something glowing within the crack, as if beckoning for them to come.

"There's a light..." Maglor murmured, curious.

"Good, you can see it." Moryo then wrapped his fingers around Maglor's wrist and pulled the Elf towards the nearest door. "That's where we're headed."

"What? Moryo! It is pouring out there and I am not dressed-"

"You'll be fine." Moryo cut him off, unlocking the bolt on the door and opening it.

A bitter cold wind greeted them immediately after Moryo had opened the door, the rain biting into their skin like small icicles. Maglor shivered from the instant cold but did nothing to prevent his brother from dragging him outside and shutting the door behind them.

"Moryo," Maglor called over the howling wind, "Why are we going to look at it now? Why not in the morning?"

"It'll be gone by then!" Moryo answered, raising a hand to shield his eyes from the freezing rain. Maglor followed his example and together, the two made for the small crack in the stone wall.

"What do you mean? How do you know it'll be gone?" Maglor asked Moryo, carefully following after his younger brother. Looking back, Maglor watched as they drifted further away from the home and disappeared into the forest surrounding it. Almost at once, Maglor was blinded by the darkness. He couldn't see anything in front of him. Not even his hand was visible! And he was certain he was holding it a few centimeters from his face.

Trusting in Moryo, Maglor trailed after his steps. It wasn't long before they emerged from the forest into a tiny clearing where the crack was located. The stone cliff was a lot larger than he'd previously thought, and the crack was bigger than what it'd looked from the window. The light the two had seen was shining even brighter, as if it sensed that they were closer.

"Come on." Moryo didn't waste any time in slipping through the crack and into the hidden cave. Maglor, wanting to know what the glowing light was, stepped in after him to find Moryo standing in front of the portion of the stone that was glowing. "Over here."

Maglor went to stand by Moryo and peered down at the glowing stone. "It's an image..." Maglor murmured, crouching down in order to get a closer look.

"Of a bat." Moryo nodded. "Every single one of these have been images of bats."

Moryo was right. The glowing lines on the stone were bent and curved in order to make a picture of a bat on the stone. A small bat with big, wide, ears atop it's tiny head. The wings were folded over it's small body and the eyes were closed. The mouth was slanted, as if it were smiling mysteriously, and there were two, sharp teeth threateningly bared at them.

"How odd..." Maglor commented, wondering why in the world there would be an image of a bat here in the cave. A cave he never knew existed.

Something his brother had said earlier rang in Maglor's mind and the minstrel stood to face his brother, who was still intently studying the image.

"You said you kept finding them everywhere..." He slowly stated, and Moryo nodded.

"Yes."

"So, this isn't the first one?"

"No. The first time..." He trailed off, reluctant to continue.

"The first time..?" Maglor urged, pressing his brother to continue.

"The first one was in your room." Moryo whispered, averting his gaze when Maglor stared at him.

"My room?"

"That's what I said, wasn't it?"

"When was this?"

No answer.

"Moryo?"

"The day we found you."

"What?" This, Maglor hadn't been expecting.

"I found it in your room...On the mirror, hours before Curvo, Tyelko, and I found you."

"Interesting..." So, this wasn't a coincidence. This image had been purposefully placed there by someone. But, by who, and why? "Wait, what were you doing in my room?"

Moryo suddenly found the ground more interesting after Maglor had asked his question. "I...I often visited your room after..."

Maglor's gaze softened considerably, knowing what his brother was going to say and reached out to rest a hand on his brother's shoulder.

"I see." There was silence for a few moments as the two brothers stood next to one another, then Maglor broke it with a question, "How many of these bats have you found?"

"Four. This would be the fifth." Moryo answered, indicating to the glowing image on the cave wall.

"Any idea what it could mean?"

"None." Came the reply. Maglor wasn't convinced. He'd seen that look flash across his brother's eyes, heard the reluctance to answer his question.

"Moryo."

"I don't know, Makalaurë. I have no idea what they could mean." Moryo sincerely told Maglor, but the minstrel knew better.

Deciding to let it slide- for now- Maglor relented. "If you say so." Glancing outside the cave, Maglor found that it was now pouring, much to his disdain. "We'd better return and get some sleep. We need to finish decorating by tomorrow since the Feast is in two days."

"Right." Moryo agreed, and together, they left the cave and bolted back to the home.

'Maglor...'

'Din?'

'You truly can be so daft sometimes...'

Maglor dubiously stared ahead in confusion.

'What do you mean?'

He never received a response, leaving Maglor baffled as he tried to figure out what Din meant. Of course...That meant that he didn't get any sleep for the rest of the entire night as he puzzled over the meaning behind her words.


~Duplicity~

"Everything looks so incredible!" Irissë squealed from behind Maglor, clapping her hands together in excitement. The Elleth was beaming and bouncing on the balls of her feet as she overlooked the Main Hall. Maglor had to agree. The Main Hall had been transformed from a room where Elves would gather to socialize over meals, to a room worthy of a grand Feast fit for a King. "This is going to be the best Feast ever!"

Turukano shook his head at his younger sister, but even he had to agree. He raised his head when he overheard Findekano and Nelyo laughing over something Ambarto and Pityo had said then looked to find Curvo glaring at Tyelko, who had ruined his neatly-done braids. Morifinwë had vanished, of course, and his Father was nowhere in sight.

He sincerely hoped he wasn't arguing with Fëanaro over some trivial matter. Honestly, Nolofinwë and Fëanaro could put even elfling to shame with their meaningless arguments. Finwë, he noted with some amusement, had long since given up on trying to settle their petty disputes and left them to sort it out on their own.

Yet... For some reason, Fëanaro, to Turukano, seemed different. Changed, somehow. He was unnervingly calmer than what Turukano remembered, and lax. More so than usual. He recalled his Father commenting that Fëanaro was distracted and upset over something, but neither of them knew over what. It was strange, Turukano rememberd, that when they had first arrived, Fëanaro had actually given Nolofinwë a traditional greeting. It also looked as if Fëanaro was unintentionally curbing his tongue, though, most of the time, it was because he hardly paid any of them any attention.

An irritated sigh broke into Turukano's thoughts and the tall Ellon looked to find Makalaurë struggling to pin up one last decoration over the doorway leading to the Main Hall. The minstrel was standing on his tip-toes, stretching his arm up in a vain attempt to slap it onto the doorframe.

"Urg, I am too short!" Makalaurë huffed in annoyance, exhaling in a defeated manner as he slumped his shoulders. He watched as the Minstrel's eyes drifted over towards Irissë, an idea brewing in his dull-blue eyes. "Irissë," He slowly began, catching the Elleth's attention.

"Yes, Makalaurë?"

"Would you mind lending me a hand?"

"Sure! What do you need?" Irissë bounded over to his side, eagerly staring up at her cousin.

"I am going to lift you up, and I need you to put this on the doorframe." Makalaurë explained, handing Irissë the object he'd been holding.

"Alright!" Irissë readily agreed, allowing Makalaurë to effortlessly lift her up onto his shoulder. Irissë gave a bright laugh, kicking her legs in the air as she slapped the decoration in the center of the doorframe, beaming once she was done.

"Hannon-le, Irissë." Maglor thanked her, without realizing that he'd slipped into Sindarin.

"Glassen!" Irissë happily responded.

Turukano sharply looked to his sister. Irissë, realizing what she'd done, slapped her hands over her mouth, wide-eyed. Makalaurë had been about to respond when he realized just what his cousin had absentmindedly said. Staring down at Irissë in shock, Makalaurë and Irissë regarded one another for a long moment, leaving Turukano to watch them.

"Irissë-" Makalaurë began, but Irissë burst out,

"I think Findekano is calling for me. Bye, Makalaurë!" And in a flurry of robes, Irissë darted away towards Nelyo and Findekano. Makalaurë stared after her.

"What..."

"Makalaurë?" Turukano stepped forward, confused from the interaction he'd just witnessed.

"Where did she learn Sindarin, Turukano?" Makalaurë demanded to know, intently focusing his attention on Turukano.

Turukano shrugged. "We have been to many cities, Makalaurë. It is possible that she might have picked up a few Sindarin phrases here and there. She does learn best by ear. She's a terrible reader."

Makalaurë hummed in response, unconvinced as he watched Irissë nervously follow after Findekano, glancing at him in the corner of her eye every once in a while to see if he was still watching her. She would quickly avert her eyes whenever she met his suspicious gaze, causing Makalaurë's suspicion to rise.

Was Irissë one of the 'others' Din had told him about? He would need to find out.


~Duplicity~

"Makalaurë," Fëanaro greeted his son when the minstrel entered the Dining Hall. The bell for dinner had just rung and the family was expected to meet together in the Dining Hall to eat. Surprisingly enough, Fëanaro didn't seem to care that Nolofinwë was seated at the same table as he. It was as if he hardly even noticed anyone was there.

Findekano cast Nelyo a questioning look. One Nelyo responded with a mere tilt of his head in Maglor's direction. Findekano's lips formed an 'o' shape, understanding what the red-head was telling him.

"Forgive me for running late," Maglor started to apologize, swiftly taking his seat next to Nelyo, "I didn't realize how much time had passed until the bell rang." Irissë shifted when Makalaurë eyed her for a quick second, his eyes narrowing.

"Tis fine." Fëanaro told him with a weak smile, and Maglor felt another pang of guilt clutch at his heart when he caught the distant tone in which his Father spoke. It was wrong... Wrong for Fëanaro to be this way- to even act in this manner! "We shall commence eating."

The twins immediately dove into their meal, happily munching away at the fruit that had been piled onto their plates. The family awkwardly ate in silence, everyone waiting for Fëanaro to speak- to say something- but Fëanaro remained silent.

Finwë was growing worried about his son's odd demeanor. He and Nolofinwë shared a look, Nolofinwë silently begging for his Father to get Fëanaro to at least say one thing.

"So," Finwë cleared his throat, earning a thankful look from everyone else seated at the table. Only Fëanaro and Maglor continued to stare down at their plates, uninterested in eating their meal. Fëanaro stabbed his tomato and watched the juice leak out of the small vegetable, staining his plate red. A stark contrast of red and white. "How are your projects going, Fëanaro?"

Fëanaro's brow furrowed at the question.

"Projects?" he repeated, bewildered.

The sons of Fëanaro, Nolofinwë, and Finwë discretely looked at one another.

"Down in the forge..." Finwë clarified, his concern rising.

"Oh." Fëanaro murmured monotonously. "I've dropped them."

Curvo nearly spat his drink out as everyone's eyes darted up to Fëanaro in surprise.

"Dropped them?" Finwë repeated, near incredulous.

"Aye." Fëanaro dismally nodded. "They no longer interest me. I have...other priorities."

Priorities?

"Such as?" Finwë pressed, hoping that Fëanaro might enlighten the family. Perhaps, he could give them a hint as to why he'd been so...unusual as of late.

Fëanaro shrugged. "Staying home. Taking care of our home. Nerdanel has yet to return, and she prefers everything to be nice and orderly. I am also watching over the family."

The crickets chirped outside as the families gathered round the table blinked, their minds still processing Fëanaro's words. Maglor was regarding his Father with a stunned glance, his meal forgotten.

What?

None of this made sense.

"Fëanaro," Finwë cautiously ventured, "Are you well?"

Fëanaro's fork froze in the air, hovering just above his fourth, small, tomato as he debated whether or not to answer his father's question. "Am I well?" The Ellon murmured, twisting his fork in his hand. "Am I well?" Fëanaro closed his eyes and set his fork down, pushing his chair back and standing. "No. I am not well." He answered. For a short moment, he stood there, then, he sharply spun on his heel and walked away from the table.

Everyone stared after him and continued to stare long after he'd vanished from their sight.

Maglor was the first to react by shoving his chair back and running after his Father, leaving everyone to watch him with bemused expressions.

"That...was odd." Curvo remarked, breaking the uncomfortable silence hanging over them.

"Indeed." Nelyo uttered in agreement, wondering if he should go after Makalaurë or allow his brother to confront their father. He decided to remain where he was. Perhaps, Makalaurë and Fëanaro could bridge the gap that had been growing between them and they would be able to right whatever wrongs had drifted them apart.

Well, he hoped they would. He couldn't imagine how Fëanaro would be if the tension between them grew steadily worse.


~Duplicity~

Maglor scoured the entire home for Fëanaro, but everywhere he looked, there was no sign of his father. Grumbling under his breath, Maglor continued his search, opening random doors and peering inside the rooms to see if his Father was there, only to find that Fëanaro was nowhere to be found.

Heaving a sigh, Maglor grimly decided to give up his search.

Actually...

Maglor paused before the grand doors of Fëanaro's large home. He thoughtfully stared at them. Perhaps Fëanaro had left the home.

Nay. Maglor shook his head at the thought, listening to the sound of rain hitting the windows nearest him. It was pouring outside.

Then again... There was a chance Fëanaro had sought refuge in his forge...

Well, only one way to find out.

Maglor quickly took one of the cloaks off of the nearby rack, Nelyo's cloak, and threw it over himself. He may not be comfortable around Fëanaro, but he wouldn't allow his Father to suffer anymore than he already had. If he was going to right the wrongs that were committed thousands of years prior in his life, he would need to mend ends with his Father.

Shunning him in the way he'd been doing would probably lead Fëanaro down the path he'd taken even faster. That was something Maglor couldn't risk. He wanted to save his Father...it was just...difficult to shove aside everything his Father had done.

'I don't blame you there.' Din quietly told him. 'But I agree with your way of thinking.'

Maglor weakly grinned in response, prepping himself. He would need to confront his Father... Apologize and...and then what? He couldn't just pretend nothing had happened.

'Don't rush it, and don't worry over it.' Din advised him. 'Just let things work out on their own, alright?'

'Right. Hannon-le.' Maglor said and started for the doors when they were suddenly opened and a small figure hurriedly stepped inside.

'He's back so soon?' Maglor heard Din ask herself. 'Well, that wasn't long. Guess he didn't appreciate the rain.'

The figure Maglor was now watching, quickly shut the door behind them then lowered their hood while placing the basket they'd been carrying on a nearby table.

Maglor felt himself freeze. That was not Fëanaro.

"Of all the days I decide to come home it would be today!" The minstrel barely overheard the figure muttering, scowling. The figure, dressed in rich green clothing, unclasped their cloak, shook it out, and threw it onto the rack by the door. "Hopefully, Nelyo has prepared a fire- Oh! It must be around dinner time!" The figure snapped their fingers, tsking at themselves as they smoothed the wrinkles in their dress. "Might as well join them..." The figure raised their head to look down the corridor and gasped in awe. "Oh my...Everything is so...clean..." They happened to turn around and catch sight of Maglor, standing stock-still a few feet in front of them, his eyes wide. "Oh...Who-?!" The figure began before choking on a gasp, forest green eyes comically widening in shock, a hand flying up to cover her heart as a small scream escaped from her. The small sculpture she'd been holding slipped from her grasp and shattered on the tiled floor, pieces of clay littering the ground.

Maglor didn't move. He couldn't even think as he stared at the very person he'd been longing to see ever since he'd arrived.

Tears welled up in the newcomer's eyes as she frantically shook her head, incoherently trying to form words, but unable to say anything. "It cannot be...Makalaurë? My little Makalaurë?" She earnestly called out, taking a few disbelieving steps towards the minstrel. "Is it you? Please, tell me it is you! Tell me this is not my imagination! You truly are here, iónya?" She demanded to know, her breath a mere whisper in the air as she drew closer to him, her eyes pleading for Maglor to say something- to confirm to her that it was him.

Finally, as if gathering his wits together, Maglor was able to breathe out a single word with fondness and joy,

"Ammë."

It was all Nerdanel needed to hear before the Elleth burst into hysterics, throwing herself at Maglor and collecting him in her arms. "Makalaurë!" She cried, burying her face into his shoulder. "My little Songbird! Makalaurë!"

Her sobs drowned out the sound of hurriedly approaching footsteps as Fëanaro, his sons, Nolofinwë and his children, and Finwë came racing down the corridor, having heard Nerdanel's scream. They skidded to a stop once they caught sight of Maglor and Nerdanel, who paid them no mind. She didn't even seem to realize that they were even there as she hiccuped and clutched Maglor tightly.

Maglor didn't hesitate to reciprocate the bone-crushing embrace his Mother had trapped him in. Ammë was home... Ammë. The Elleth he'd missed the most while he was in Arda. She was back.

"When..? When did you come home, my little one?" Nerdanel asked him, pulling away slightly to study his face.

"Not even three weeks past." Maglor answered her, his voice shaking slightly. Nerdanel flashed him a wobbly smile, raising a small hand to cup his cheek.

"You suffered so much..." She whispered, pained. "I could feel your pain...Your sorrow and grief...I felt it all...and then, nothing." She sniffled. "I feared the worst...I believed the Valar had taken you away...All these years I thought your fëa had fled to the Halls!" She admitted, a couple more tears streaming down and wetting Maglor's tunic. "And yet, here you are...My little Songbird is home..."

"Aye, Ammë." Maglor softly agreed, nodding his head when Nerdanel hugged him again. "I am home."

And here is where I will remain.


~Duplicity~

There you are! Another chapter done! I certainly hope it was okay. Chapter five should be up soon. Thank-you guys so much for your Reviews and PMs! They've been of great help.
Have a fantastic rest of the week!

~Juliette Morbu