It has taken me a while to gat this chapter done because I have so much school work at the moment but I'm getting less again now and the holidays are coming up so the next chapter shouldn't take quite as long.
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The dark and the traitorous
The mist rising from the marsh before the travellers was pearly white, and all that could be seen through its swirling depths were bright lights that's seemed to dance to some unwritten melody.
"What do we do now?" Faramir asked, "Do we wait for it to clear?"
Gandalf looked at him long and hard before answering.
"The mist will never clear, Faramir, Prince of Ithilien, because it is not really there. It is an illusion, created by the Lady of the White Marsh. If it does not make you turn back then you are drawn to the lights, in the hope of finding a way through the mist. A cruel device indeed, for once you have looked at the lights you will wish to look at them forever."
"What happens then?" asked Pippin.
Galadriel spoke instead of Gandalf.
"They lure you to the water and you are lost to this Earth."
Any further questions were dismissed by the arrival of two dark figures, emerging from the mist. They bowed to Galadriel only, nodded curtly to Legolas and Gandalf, and ignoring the rest of the party.
"Why do they ignore Aragorn? Don't they know who he is?" Merry whispered to Pippin, his face crumpled in confusion.
Aragorn overheard them. He gave a grim smile.
"They don't really care."
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Later
Galadriel was talking to the strangers in a language that Merry and Pippin did not understand. It could not be elvish as they had taken extreme pains to learn the language of the elves after the last war.
"What are they saying, Aragorn?"
"I do not know. There are parts I can make out to be elvish but even they are mutilated."
Legolas answered, "It is ancient elvish. The language that all forms of speech today are derived from. Emelia was the only elf in Rivendell to speak it fluently, although I believe Lord Elrond can speak it partly. She had to go to Lothlorien to learn it from Galadriel. It is spoken as the main language in the White Marsh now. Most of the elves there are originally from Lothlorien where it is still taught although they had little use for it until Emelia was exiled."
Galadriel turned to them. "You must all be blindfolded now. Lady Emelia's men will lead you safely to the entrance.
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Cool air hit Merry's face, refreshing, as his blindfold was pulled away roughly. His eyes widened as they took in his surroundings. They were in a large cave, which sloped ceilings were ornate with strange symbols and writing. It was dark, yet everything was visible and the walls seemed to glow with some un-natural light. The air itself seemed alive with magic. It was too fresh for underground and that was made the place undoubtedly elvish.
"This way."
They were lead down a series of passages with no light at all, and all but the elves stumbled in the darkness, falling more than once.
Suddenly they opened out into a large courtyard. Looking up, Merry saw a night sky filled with stars.
"Another illusion," Gandalf murmured, gazing up with an expression of intrigue upon his face, "quite fascinating really."
A young elf appeared silently at their sides. He had a slightly nervous expression that did not sit well on his elven features.
"I am afraid you shall have to wait to meet her ladyship. She is in the weaponry and she tends to accidentally hit those who interrupt her during her training."
Gandalf raised a bushy eyebrow. "Then we shall save you the trouble and interrupt her ourselves. Do you have any objections to that?"
"No, no of course not. It is just through that door." He pointed to an iron studded door across the courtyard.
They headed towards the door, Aragorn leading the way. As they reached it Gandalf murmured something in his ear and Aragorn nodded standing aside for Gandalf to enter first.
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Inside the room was by far the brightest place Merry had seen yet. In the middle of it there was a tall figure cloaked in black, a hood shadowing its face.
"Lady Emelia?"
The figure turned towards them and spoke in a decidedly feminine tone. "I've been expecting you."
Her voice was light, like a flute, but it was cold and blank, devoid of any emotion.
She turned back to the opposite wall and hurled a blade at the target, its tip hitting the middle with deadly precision.
Legolas smirked slightly. "I must admit, Emelia, I'm disappointed. After all these years of archery, sword fighting and other powerful weaponry, you still choose to throw kitchen knives at your enemies."
A blade cut through the air where Legolas's hand had been not seconds before.
"Oh, these are most definitely not kitchen knives."
"May I see?"
She crossed the room swiftly, footsteps echoing in their ears. She extended her arm towards him, blade poised in one pale hand.
It was not a cruel hand, Merry decided. Slender, elegant fingers that all elves inherited. However like everything else about her they held a veiled threat. Dangerous, powerful, cold. So cold.
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There! It took me a long time but I finally finished! Please review!
Iceduchess
This chapter is now editied. I'm going throught them all, correcting them and changing some of the sentence structures. Nothing big, so if you don't re-read it you really won't miss anything but I don't like to have stories where I give off the impression that I don't understand grammar or spelling.
