Hello to all my readers, as well as to those of you who are imensely pissed off because I have failed to finish off what I have started. I'm getting there.

I do not own, JRR Tolkien's Lord of the Rings- nor any of the movies or have any property claims over plot, storyline, characters. etc- save for Laiste and her story.

I hope you all enjoy, comment please!

Elvish translations:

Namárië, Brand, ná Elbereth veria le, ná elenath dín síla erin rád o chuil lín- Farewell, Brand, may Elbereth protect you, may her stars shine on the path of your life.

Belain na le- The Valar be with you

Ada- father

Namárië, mellon- Farewell friend

Hannon le- Thank you

Im gelir ceni ad lín, mellon-

Manen nalyë? - How are you?

Im maer- I'm well

Gen hannon- I thank you

Elleth- female elf

Eldar- the word used for elves who left the shores of Aman and took the Great Journey

Secret Souls

Chapter Eleven- Laiste

I watched in wonder as my knight master and my friend bowed to one another, moved apart, and the turned to face each other, completely in sync. Air pulled through mouth and teeth in a near gasp as taunts were exchanged before Glorfindel launched himself forwards, his long blond hair whipping around him as he lashed out with powerful kicking strikes.

Ecthelion blocked the first that headed for his head with his right forearm, then rolled out of the way as Glorfindel reversed his body and lashed upwards with his other leg. The two engaged in a deadly dance filled with powerful bodily strikes, it was both beautiful and terrifying to watch as neither warrior gave way. If I hadn't known any better the two warriors were nothing more than enemies as they aimed for the weakest parts of the body, filled with deadly intent. Adrenaline pumped through my veins as I watched the two, it was almost like I had seen this before. Mirror images of a fight long forgotten by words.

A dim headache began pressing on my temples as images flashed through my mind, each one a piece of a memory, even as it happened before my very eyes. Ecthelion launched a counter attack in my mind mere second before he did it within the ring. Then- Glorfindel lashed out with a punch that sent Ecthelion stumbling back, now- the punch never landed as Ecthelion slid out of the way and slammed his own punch into Glorfindel's unpadded shoulder which made him lurch forwards and then roll on the ground to avoid a kick coming in from behind.

Shaking my head I struggled to dispel the past and focus on the present. Forcing my eyes to focus on the match before me, I grabbed my wrist bringing pain onto myself. It was enough for the present to force the headache to fade into the background, and though pieces of memory surfaced I ignored their lure and kept myself from the pain in order to ensure the belief in my people's strength. I would not be the one who fainted and cause ridicule upon the warriors of Imladris, as well as the cause of the disturbance of such a rare display of days long past.

Suddenly the black and blonde were a whirl of motion and Ecthelion had somehow managed to pin my master on the ground, hands on either side of his head placed to snap his neck and end the life that lingered within his hröa. I held my breath the same as all the watchers and together we waited until at last Glorfindel murmured something only Ecthelion could hear and the dark haired Lord of the Fountain moved away and helped his fellow stand. Both grinned at one another in complete goodwill as loud applause tore down the silence. They bowed to each other, then to the lords, lady, and king, and then to their audience who, if possible, cheered even louder than before.

They returned to the sidelines and I handed them wet cloths to wipe away the dirt that clung to their faces and clothes. An awed servant hurriedly guided the two warriors away from the ring for quick baths and to find new clothes. As they passed each man smiled at me as I murmured my amazement and impressions of what they had done.

While the two warriors bathed and changed a quick break was ordered and servants walked around delivering glasses of water and juices. The participants remained silent even as excited chatter broke out amongst the crowds. Even King Thranduil leaned towards Lord Elrond to discuss something, a brightened gleam in his eyes. At this moment the youngest woodland prince was guided over to the shaded area where his brother and father sat, looking sleepy and somewhat uncomfortable, perhaps due to the intense sunlight and heat which barely pervaded through the thick forests where he and his people thrived. King Thranduil proudly took his son into his arms and even Legolas' big brother beamed at the boy many centuries younger than him. Legolas seemed humble as he flushed under the praised the Lady and Lords were bestowing upon him, quietly thanking them. I smiled watching this display.

A few minutes passed and Glorfindel and Ecthelion returned, dressed a little more formally as they took seats beside Elladan and Elrohir, who had be Imladris' sole representative in knife fighting. Seeing this I knew my turn to represent our land would be soon and I drifted away to the back of my party to warm up, only to stop in surprise when I saw I was not the only one with such an idea.

An ellon, bearing the tunic of one of the wardens of Lothlórien, sat on the ground bending this way and that. Pale hair, almost silver flowed over oddly broad shoulders as he bent down. As if feeling my observation, eyes as dark as the night looked up and the ellon nodded. "You are more than welcome to warm up here as well."

I murmured my thanks and began braiding back my hair, sitting on soft grass to do so. Once I was certain my warriors' braids were tight enough I began to stretch, a belated reflection of the warden's movements. Beginning with my arms and finishing with my legs, a companionable silence stretched between the two of us as we warmed up for the last part of the display.

"I am Haldir." The ellon said his voice low and musical.

"I am known as Laiste." I returned politely, though my desire to talk was nonexistent. I had always preferred silence before a match or a battle. I paused in my stretching at the new thought, but then brushed it aside, letting it join the other awakened memoires in the corner of my thoughts as they sat waiting for later examination. The sound of a pipe roused me and I stood and headed off, the Galadhrim already ahead of me.

Already two warriors were battling it out, their swords clashing violently. Looking closely at the two warriors I was not surprised at the intensity Careion and the Greenwood Teleri were fighting. Though the kinslayings had ended long ago tensions still dominated inter-race interactions. Careion, an elf of Noldor descent likely was descended from a kinslayer or at least carried enough Noldor blood that the Greenwood warrior was determined to beat the veteran. It was also likely that both men were veterans from the Last Alliance and anger mostly on the part of the Greenwood elves still was high due to having lost the largest number of elves. Even now- I'd learned, they were still recovering.

"How long has the warrior from Greenwood been like this?" I asked a fellow participant who stood nearby.

"Since the beginning." Came the low reply. Neither one of us looked away from the battle as I continued my stain of questioning.

"What happened to make him like that?"

"Nothing as far as I know."

Careion was struggling a bit with the fierceness of the pace, but it was clear he was winning. His movements were more precise and contained, his breathing though a little harsh, was steady, and as he pushed back against the Sindar's attacks it was clear that he had found the opening he was looking for. Suddenly the other elf's stance was off balance and Careion struck.

The next bought ended in a draw between a warrior of Imladris and one of the Galadhrim. The last one before me was rather interesting. Two woodland warriors going against one another in the open was bound to be interesting, and as I watched the two come to blows, I absentmindedly wondered how their fighting changed without the constant coverage of the trees. Eventually the craftiness of the Galadhrim out mastered the quickness of the Greenwood warrior and won the match. As the two clasped hands I took a deep breath and checked the sword strapped to my left hip.

Slowly I stepped forwards and the ellon I had met earlier also came forwards. The dirt was soft underfoot as we made our way to the center of the ring, where we bowed to our Lords and Lady. I turned towards Haldir and he looked down at me, dark eyes seeming to pierce to my very essence.

"Let us see how much of a warrior the stories say you are." He murmured before turning and heading to his side of the ring.

Automatically my body moved in an echo of his movements but my mind was reeling. Stories? What stories? Turning around I looked at the warrior and forcefully pushed aside his warriors. A brief glance in the direction of my master I glimpsed the way he sat, far too interested in the match already… He knew something more… Turning my gaze back to Haldir, my eyes narrowed and I waited. Crossing my arms over my chest I watched as he drew his long blade. It truly was an elegant weapon, like any elf made blade it dipped and curved, equal parts beauty, strength, and deadliness.

The crowd breathed in and out, a united being in those first few moments. Sand and dirt shifted under Haldir's feet as he balanced his body with the extra weight of the blade before darting forwards, his blade whirled in a deadly arc that would have removed any lesser being's head. I ducked and spun, trying to get behind the warrior but he seemed to understand my movements and immediately his blade spun and moved around him body swiping at me. I darted backwards a few paces as Haldir turned to face me his blade already in motion.

Weaving out of the way of the beautiful blade, I closed my eyes briefly, listening and extending a part of my being into the word around me. The blade cut through the air in near silence with little more than a faint whistle to give away its' movements as its' master moved the blade as though it was an extension of his very fëa. Dim vibrations in the earth alerted me to Haldir's quick steps and as his weight shifted and bent backwards and sprung out of the path of the blade. Snapping my eyes open I pushed off from the ground bringing my feet around so that I landed safely on them with perfect balance.

Surprise flickered in the ellon's dark eyes before they clear and he launched yet another, more advanced attack. I recognized the movement of the Raven-strike which would be followed by the reversed moonrise; it would end this battle before it had even started!

Almost without a thought I found my blade in my right hand and seamlessly deflecting the Raven-strike, breaking the pattern. Refusing to look at the sword I had never before used in a fight or even for practice I wielded it as though I had always held in my hand. Twisting it around Haldir's blade the two of us fought for dominance. Knowing his greater strength would win out I grimaced as my knees bent, giving way. Haldir pressed his advantage adding more weight to our intertwined blades. His stance shift and I quickly tucked my body inwards, diving under his legs and hopping to my feet once safely away from his blade.

Haldir lurched forwards, too much of his weight committed to pressing me downwards and I grasped the small advantage and struck, only to find his blade in the way. He smirked at me from his off balance position and batted my blade away. Following the momentum he provided I brought my blade around as my body spun adding strength to my upcoming attack, as I began a complex sword pattern known as Gûd Daedheloth- foe of the great fear.

The world had, by this point, faded and I registered nothing more than the ellon who stood before me. I could feel the sun's warmth as it touched my skin and shone upon my blade, I could hear the summer breeze as it sluggishly swept through the area dampening the heat and making it harder to breath. There was nothing more than this and the natural world.

Suddenly Haldir leapt into the air bring him blade down in a direct and powerful blow. It was obvious enough though, that I brought up my blade. It was then that I made the first mistake. As his whole weight pressed against me the sun caught light on my blade and like they were summoned my eyes rested upon the blade for the first time. Engraved into the blade was the image of a dragon, a figure of beauty and power as she (how did I know the gender?) roared golden flames down my blade.

Blood. It dripped from the blade- my blade- in thick black droplets as orc after orc fell to its bite. I was no longer within the ring of Imladris, but on the walls of Gondolin. Long longer the unstained beauty I remembered I looked around, peering through smoke and the scents of death and fire. Everywhere, all around me lay the bodies of friends; bodies of comrades littered the ground having been wrapped in death's loving arms. Around every elven body there lay at least a dozen orcs and goblins. A sword sliced towards my head and as anger burned through my veins, I turned deflecting the potential threat and expertly knocked it out of the way.

Glaring down my blade I held it at the pale throat of… an elf? Haldir stood before me, motionless as my blade rested against his throat. Dark eyes looked down at me holding nothing within their depths. The next thing I was aware of was the blood that roared in my body and the desperate gasps of air that invaded my lungs. My head felt as though it was about it explode and for a brief moment I was tempted to wipe any everything by my own hand. It would be so simple to end all the loss and confusion, to rid myself of pain forever, and all it would take was a single movement of my blade against my stomach.

The thought of death, facing it once more was too much and my stomach churned. Shaking I lowered my blade and returned it to its sheath. To the cheers of my people, the sounds of the pipes calling the end of the display- too all but the man who stood before me I was deaf.

"You fought well- but it was not me you face in those last moments was it?" His musical voice calmed my shaking and I nodded and bowed.

"Forgive me."

"There is nothing to forgive. It was I who should ask for your forgiveness." Haldir bowed after sheathing his sword. I looked at him, watching for a moment longer, before turning away and bowing to Lord Elrond and his family before walking quickly out of the ring feeling ill at heart.

I reached my chambers before I could bear it no longer and tossed my weapon on my bed, making sure to tie the hilt to the sheath. Never again, I vowed, would I use that sword. A servant popped out and asked if she needed to draw a bath. I looked at her and a body floated to the surface of my mind. My stomach lurched and it was all I could do to reach my bathing chambers before upturning the remains of my breakfast and light lunch. As my stomach heaved up its contents tears made their way, unbidden, down my face and I choked out sobs between heaves unable trap my sorrow within.