What forms the sun to shine, and the grass to grow?
The rabbit's run and the river's flow?
The wolves to cry and the fell winds blow?
A thousand leagues over unpacked snow?
A city as wide as a lucky thief's grin?
Sight unseen, the guards let us in.
It met our hopes with practiced ease.
The nights were long, I dreamed of trees.
But when I woke, the boughs of stone,
closed round me like fune'ral tome.
Strange thoughts whisper in my mind,
to the east a ghostly light outshines,
the sun and moon, we must away,
to find that some dappled, summer day,
we have arrived- at that far shore.
And tread on foot of mighty door.
A path beyond.
A sight unseen.
We followed call of fever dreams.
And through I see, the rings lead us on.
To a further light:
The light of dawn.
It pulls us in.
It draws our gaze.
I have before, glimpsed its wondrous rays.
But in a dreamscape half-forgot.
Let this gray world waylay me not.
Take my hand, and kiss my lips.
Let us sail away on that waiting ship.
To glimpse a sight all mortal eyes shall see.
A swift sunrise over a far green country.
Legolas watched the elf from his dreams with amazement.
There she was, just as he had seen her. A pair of breeches peeked out from under a wide traveling cloak. She wore moccasins, and when she reached up to pay the vendor for the fish he caught a glimpse of a small sword strapped to her belt. Although passers-by were fooled, Legolas could spot her as an elf a mile away. The knit woolen cap that clumsily covered her ears and tufts of straw-colored hair did nothing to conceal that fact. Legolas, however, had concealed himself. He was a little embarrassed at this.
He was a prince of the woodland realm who had slain black creatures fouler than description by the hundreds with his own hand, and yet he did not approach. Not yet.
Someone was with her.
He was a fairly young human boy, perhaps only a year or so past manhood. He was dressed in a similar cloak, except that the feet that protruded from underneath his were wearing boots. Both had rucksacks on their back. A pair of blue eyes sliced across the square, and Legolas shrank back slightly. They were both dusty and weather-bitten, and looked to be in a hurry. The newly bought fish was wrapped in paper and placed in the boy's rucksack. They departed wordlessly, heading for the inner gate and the second level. Legolas followed, slipping through the crowd in order to keep them in sight.
The market quarter of Gondor lay in the shadow of the two thickest walls, for they were furthest from the center. A wide array of shops, stalls, and storehouses crowded the streets, stretching out like plants trying to lap up all the sunlight they could reach. There were so many people here, it made Legolas a little uneasy. For a long time before this final war, Legolas had been content to deal with humans from afar. He had even entertained the notion, as others had, that humans were in some way inferior to the elves. A cheap copy. This city dispelled all such foolish notions. The sheer enormity of it's achievement weighed upon the eyes. Beyond the city was yet another ring of fortification enclosing the fields of Pelennor, the Rammas Echor. Two massive causeway forts loomed at the edge of the Anduin, repaired and re-manned after just ten years.
Ten years, practically the blink of an eye, and these humans had not only rebuilt their empire, but expanded it, both in land and population. Aragorn was going to be one of the most revered kings in the line of Gondor, Legolas knew that much. He hoped the victories over the desert kingdoms would not cloud his judgment.
He watched them approach the gate to the second ring, where they were stopped by the guard. There was a terse conversation which Legolas could not catch, and the two separated. The elf was allowed in, but the boy was not, and he seemed annoyed by this but accepted it. They shared a word, and the human melted back into the crowd. It was remarkable; one moment he was there, and the next Legolas could not find him anywhere.
He continued to follow the elf. The guard waved him through the gate without stopping him. Legolas cut a distinctive figure and was well known to the watch, who were under orders not to waylay him in any way. The elf did not seem to know where she was going. She wandered down the avenues of stone buildings, looking up in seeming awe at her surroundings. Legolas decided that now was the best time to make his move.
"Greetings." he said in Sindarin.
She wheeled around, looking surprised, and then quickly glanced left and right, as if to check that he was alone.
"How- who are you?" she said, her voice halting. "I... I'm sorry. I haven't spoken my native tongue in some time."
"That's quite alright. I'm sorry if I surprised you. I haven't seen another elf in several years."
She nodded, switching back into Westron, seemingly out of habit.
"Neither have I. I'm Nellas by the way."
He examined her outstretched hand before shaking it. Interesting. An elf with human habits.
"Legolas. Pleased to meet you."
Her eyes opened a little wider.
"Wait... THE Legolas? Of the woodland realm?"
Legolas couldn't help but betray a little smile.
"The very same. Do you need any help? You look a little lost."
"Yes, actually. I'm here with my traveling companion. We're looking for a place to stay but everywhere is full."
"I think I can help you there." Legolas said. "Walk with me."
She did, and as they walked he told her about the end of the war, and how he had traveled to the crystalline caverns with Gimli first after loosing their little bet. Nellas told a few stories of her own, after some coaxing. From what he could gather, she had walked the long way around the Misty Mountains from Imladris, making the crossing in the dead of winter with her human companion. She spoke of it lightly, but he could tell from the expression on her face that the journey had been long and hard. When he asked them where they were going, she shrugged.
"At first, we didn't have a destination. Now, though, I think Elden wants to rest awhile, and so do I."
"I wouldn't blame you. But this-" Legolas glanced around at the square as they walked through it. "-well, it's not a place I would come to rest in."
"Yes, I realize that now." Nellas said, watching a double column of soldiers file past on their way to the gates. "It was my choice to come here. I had heard of it in books and stories. By the time I was born Arnor had already fallen apart. I wanted to see the great city of men, but now that I see it, I feel... frightened. Small. As though I'm underneath the feet of a great beast, and it could crush me at any moment."
"You are right, it can. I only planned to stay here until Aragorn returned from the southern kingdoms, but he has been waylaid again on the return journey. He asked us to help ensure no foolish men befell the halls of power while he was gone, but it has already come to pass and there is nothing more I can do by being here."
"Us?" Nellas said.
"Gimlee and I. He has already departed Gondor, else I would have introduced you. Ah, here we are."
Nellas looked around. They had passed through several gates while they were talking, but none had seemed to hinder them. She had hardly noticed their progress, so engrossed in conversation had she been. Now they were standing in a wide, smooth lane. Trees were rooted underneath the sidewalk at regular intervals, and the leaves were in full bloom; beautiful white flowers that scattered like snow in the wind. A few people were standing outside, talking. They seemed at ease, relaxed, unlike the people in the lower levels. A girl in a radiant dress with a wide smile was playing in the empty street, chasing after another equally well-dressed child. He must have been a nobleman's son, and as she watched him her mind flashed back to the grubby orphan sitting beside the highway to Gondor, his hand outstretched, his eyes pleading...
"Shall we go in?"
She blinked. Once, twice. She looked around.
Legolas was gesturing at the facade of a large building that was seemingly built into the outer wall of their level. The roof tiles were immaculately spaced, and there was a wide front porch, windows underlined with empty flower beds. All the leaves had been swept from the lawn and the short front walk. They walked up the steps and Legolas opened the door.
"Is this your house?"
"Not really, no. It belonged to a young count who lost his life in the war. It had been abandoned for some time, and Aragorn offered to let me stay there after he made me the elven ambassador."
"Wow, elven ambassador, moving up in the world, eh?" She said, poking him playfully with her elbow.
The inside was as well-furnished as the exterior.
"It's a purely ceremonial title. All of the elves that Gondor is allied with are long gone. To my knowledge, in fact, you and I are the very last, and I am planning on setting sail very soon, perhaps within the next year."
"I am sorry to hear that. Personally, I don't want to leave. Not yet."
"Why is that, if you don't mind me asking?"
"I suppose... I haven't seen enough of this world yet to want to move on to the next one. I want to travel with Elden. I want to start a family."
The last word hit Legolas like a ton of bricks. Of course. How much more obvious could it have been.
"Is that his name? Elden?"
Nellas nodded and smiled, clearly unaware of his desire. That smile was involuntary. Innocent. It was the first time he had seen her smile since they had begun talking. Suddenly he felt like a lecherous old bag for trying to impress her with the cottage. For coveting her, when all she really wanted was help and honest intentions.
"We met in Imladris by chance. My home was abandoned, and he didn't have one to go back to. Fate is a strange match-maker."
"It is indeed." Legolas said, his mind elsewhere. "Is it truly empty?"
"It is as you say." Nellas replied. "You and I are the last elves in middle earth."
"Not counting the Moriquendi of course. They have no interest in sailing to Valinor, nor I think, will they ever develop any." He said.
What did it mean, then, his dream? Had he interpreted it wrong simply because he was lonely? What was he supposed to do then? In a daze he set out a pair of glasses and poured her a drink. Although he hadn't asked her if she wanted any, she gladly accepted it. He watched her gulp it down while he was mulling everything over in his head.
"Tommorow morning I will introduce you to the steward before I take my leave. I'll make sure you and anyone else you so chose can stay here as long as you like."
"You're not staying?" Nellas said, sounding genuinely surprised.
"No, although now that you are here I wish I could. But I have much more left to do before I walk the grey road."
Nellas finished her drink, and Legolas showed her where the bedroom was. She cast off her cloak and her shoes, although she had already tracked a great deal of dirt inside. He wanted to ask her more about her journey, but he knew she was tired. He closed the door and turned to walk back down the hall.
Oneidas could tell from first glance that there was something different about the kid. Submerged in a sea of filthy faces, they all started blurring together. If you'd seen one pair of sunken eyes, you'd seen them all, but that boy and his companion had stood out. Something screamed "special" about them, and the more they tried to look unassuming the more it had been driven home to him. Oneidas had a finely-tuned gut instinct from his days as a trader in the eastern reaches of middle earth.
Now the kid who called himself Elden was walking back through his door, without his female friend.
It wasn't a door really, just two flaps of canvas propped across an archway in the stone. Oneidas was sufficiently in the money that he had been able to afford to do some rebuilding with wood, stone and mortar. He had bought the rights to the courtyard behind them as well, and the adjacent buildings, most of which he rented out to tenants. He had done well for himself and his business. There was a similar outpost to the far north of here, and he was hoping to open one in Far Haraad to the south, once the dust settled and Gondorian rule was established.
"No luck then? Where's your little miss?"
"She convinced the guards to let her into the upper level, but not me. We agreed to meet up back here as soon as we can."
"I take it that means you'll be accepting my offer of work?"
Elden nodded.
"Last time we spoke you described yourself as an 'acquisitions expert'. I assume this also means you are well versed in... 'unsolicited entry', shall we say?"
Elden nodded again.
"Then I have a small job for you to do immediately to prove what you have just told me. But first, why did the guards let your friend through the gate and not you?"
The kid shrugged in a non-committal way, as though it had been a stroke of fate. Oneidas did not buy this for a second.
"It's because of the mark, isn't it?"
"What mark?" Elden replied in a perfectly innocent tone, but the way he absentmindedly clutched his right wrist with his hand gave it clean away.
"The big ugly one on your wrist that's impossible to miss for someone who is looking for it. That's what. Don't play games with me, I wasn't born yesterday."
The kid nodded again, looking defeated, and Oneidas actually felt a slight stab of pity for him, which was highly unusual for such a cutthroat trader as himself.
"Don't sweat it, lad. We've all had our fair share of run-ins with the law here-" he said, gesturing to the darker end of the room where several people were playing cards quietly and listening to the entire conversation. A small scrawny one with a mop of blond hair spoke up.
"Yeh, but not all of us have a death warrant from the horsekissers, haha!"
"Shattap Doakes." One of the other men grumbled, laying down his cards.
This man was much taller, built like a willow tree. He examined Elden up and down, and then shrugged as if he didn't have anything to add.
"Like I was saying," Oneidas said. "none of us are on the right side of the law these days anyway, so you needn't worry. You're in good company. Well, you will be, if you complete this one small task for me."
"And what would that be, pray tell?"
Oneidas leaned in closer, as though he was afraid of eavesdroppers even in his own sanctum.
"A rival caravan has just come in to town. I want you to find some way to sabotage the carts. I assume that you can walk unseen if you wish?"
At these words, Elden's face was split with a grin that sent a shiver coursing down Oneidas's spine, although he couldn't explain why.
"You have no idea."
Oneidas told him where it was and what was required.
"I'll be back."
"Don't you think it's a good idea to wait until nightfall?" Oneidas said, incredulous.
"I don't think it will be necessary!" Elden called over his shoulder cheerfully.
Then he was gone.
It was clear to him now that this "Elden" character was nuts. Ah well. At least he had a sense of punctuality. He would either succeed, or not. Within a half hour the kid was back, a fistful of iron bolts in his hands, of the kind that held wagon-wheels onto their axles. For once in his life, Oneidas was at a loss for words.
"I would call you a liar... but I've seen those carts, and these are the very same bolts."
He reached into his pocket and pulled out a small leather pouch, before placing it in Elden's hands.
"Go on. Open it."
Elden did so, and his eyes lit up at the sight of a set of a dozen or so lockpicks, complete with tension wrenches.
"I got it from a customer as payment. I was going to pawn it, but I think you can put them to better use."
Nellas woke reluctantly, and when she did she remained in bed for several hours, until the sun had crept over the windowsill and was shining in her eyes. Then she rolled out of bed and searched groggily for a washroom. When one did not live in one place for any length of time, bathing was a luxury that you took when you could. It hadn't been a problem on the river, when you could simply shed your clothes and leap in, something that neither was shy of doing, ensuring of course that you had one hand firmly on the boat to keep yourself from floating away in the current.
She did not have to look far. Through one door of the spacious bedroom she found a wonderfully crafted space where water flowed out of a tap that could be turned hot or cold with a lever. With a soapstone she scoured her whole body thoroughly and then rinsed several times, cleansing the dirt and grime of the road out of her skin, leaving only her own unique scent underneath. It had changed somewhat since she left Imladris. Before it had been light and subtle with notes of parchment, ink and fresh bedsheets. Now it was muskier, and carried an unmistakable whiff of Elden.
Her sword and pack had been placed on the floor by the door. Her traveling clothes had been cleaned and laid out in a neat pile, but even as she reached for them, a young woman stepped in through the open door carrying something white in her hands. She was pretty, but in a durable sort of way. Nellas doubted she belonged to the same money as the rest of those that called this level their home.
One of the lucky ones, she reflected, considering what goes on below.
"Master Legolas asked me to insist that you wear something more formal to meet the Regent."
"Master Legolas is master of many things, but not me. My own clothes will do fine, thank you."
The maid pursed her lips.
"Begging your pardon miss, but the clothes you have been wearing would not be appropriate for this occasion."
Nellas considered arguing further, but decided that she did not want to test her run of good luck. So far she had met the only elf left in middle earth and he had extended his utmost trust to her within minutes of meeting her. The least she could do was attempt to return the favor. She accepted the garment, and the maid turned her back. Nellas realized she was expected to change right there. It was not as bad as it looked, but the off-white summer dress was definitely not her style, although she did enjoy being able to wear a skirt again after so many miles in trousers.
"Where is the master himself?" Nellas asked, looking around as though Legolas was going to pop out of a linen closet and surprise them.
"Legolas left sometime during the night." The maid replied, adjusting the shoulders of her garment in a distinctly motherly fashion that left Nellas feeling as though she was a small child, when in fact she was probably five or six times older than the girl.
"Did he leave a note?"
"Yes... well, not for you. He left a letter explaining things to the powers that be, but he told me to tell you that it was urgent business, unexpected, and he couldn't stay a moment longer. I will present you to the Lord Regent."
"Wait a moment..."
Nellas glanced around. She was missing something, and it was not merely the familiar weight of the pack on her back.
"I had a ring hanging around my neck. Where is it?"
She tried to keep her voice even, but an edge had crept into it, almost without her intending it to.
"It's right here ma'am-" the maid said, opening a jewlery box on the bedside table and withdrawing the chain, "-begging your pardon, but it's not right for a lady to sleep in her valuables."
Nellas took the ring, resisting the urge to snatch it out of the girl's hands.
"I appreciate the sentiment, but I am not a lady, I am an elf. Please refrain from moving this ring again, whether I am awake or asleep. It means more to me than money."
"Of course, I apologize."
"It's quite alright. What is your name?"
"Lydia." The maid said.
"My name is Nellas. Thank you for washing my clothes."
Lydia looked slightly amused at this.
"Not at all ma'am, it is my station."
Something about the way Lydia talked to her made Nellas uncomfortable as they left the embassy and walked down the sunlit street. Nellas had always thought respect and power to be earned, but in human society they seemed to be titles that could be as easily awarded to one bloodline as another. As they walked Lydia drilled her in her polite, unassuming way on how she would address the Steward of Gondor, Maximus. Nellas found the whole thing to be a little preposterous. He wasn't even a king, as she understood the word. Closer to a placeholder. A stopgap until the true king, Ellesar, could return.
She looked down at her hand to find she was still holding the ring on its chain. The silvery smoothness of its polished surface reflected the gray and white cobblestones in an almost chameleon-like way.
She unfastened the clasp, placing the chain in her pocket and slipping the ring onto her finger.
It had quieted since the elder tree had touched it, and Elden said similar things about his, but the power within it had not died. If anything it had been strengthened, swept clean of the last clammy vestiges of Sauron's will, leaving the view of what lay beyond clear and unobstructed.
The view enthralled her... and it also frightened her.
Within each living frame of her existence there were other worlds, tagging along behind. Occasionally she saw glimpses of them, wide open places, wild, free, untouched. Some were brighter than others. Some had clearly been reached by the darkness and were just now beginning to recover. Others had been laughably far out of reach of Sauron and his predecessors, who were mired in anger and bitterness that lay chiefly with Arda, without thought to the planes of being that lay just beyond the curtain.
A fire lit each of these lands, but it was not the sun that shone down on Middle Earth. It was a brilliant blaze, too bright to look directly at. A writhing ball of energy. A gleam of something greater.
"A secret fire..."
"I beg your pardon, Miss Nellas?"
Nellas was momentarily disoriented. Then she realized what she had said aloud.
"Nothing... it was nothing."
A group of starlings chirped out a noisy cry as they tussled for seating on the trees surrounding the luscious garden. Portia was seated next to her peers, other marriageable women of good lineage, around the wide, round table set at the center of the walkways. Her father Maximus was here today, and he was clearly enjoying himself. His latest wife was a rather rotund woman with black, beady eyes and an uncomfortable stare. The sudden ascension of her husband to the seat of power had clearly suited her, and she was not looking forward to Ellesar's return.
"Yes, another caravan just arrived today, will there be no end of them?"
"I hope not!" Portia's sister exclaimed, fingering the string of pearls around her neck. "They bring such wonderful gifts to the market."
"Well, there will be plenty more where that came from, once Far Harrad is properly yoked within Gondor's empire."
"Empire..." Portia murmured. "Is that what they call it now?"
"Yes." Maximus said. "And there's no reason to be ashamed of it. Gondor has played second fiddle to greater powers for long enough. Now it is our time."
"Even Legolas said so," Portia's sister continued, "this is the age of men."
"Yes, speaking of which, he departed today for the last time." Maximus' wife said. "We won't be seeing any more of him."
There was a collective sigh from the young women at the table. Oggling Legolas' perfectly formed hind end had been something of a past time for the ladies of the court, but although there were many rumors and claims, none had been able to produce evidence that they had bedded the elven prince, much to everyone's dismay. Unbeknownst to them, however, another topic of conversation was about to present itself, one that would prove inexhaustible for several months afterwards.
Portia spotted them first. One of the servants, Lucy, or Lydia, or something like that, was escorting another person towards them. Upon closer inspection, it turned out to be an elf. All eyes at the table turned, including Maximus. The servant had a letter in her hand, which she gave to Maximus after a small bow. There was a long silence as Maximus opened it and read it out in its entirety. Meanwhile the elf stood as still as a stone, gazing over the heads of everyone as though there was something out in the distance she was trying to see. She was beautiful, that much was true, but she was also clearly not of the same class as Legolas. She wore her dress uncomfortably, and her hands were callused and contained many small scars that gleamed in the noon-day sun. Despite the cleanness of her facial features, the lines under her eyes were deep.
"Well..." Maximus said, glancing between the elf and the letter, "I certainly trust Legolas's word, and he has quite a lot of good things to say about you. You understand that at this juncture, the position is purely ceremonial?"
The elf nodded.
"From what Legolas tells me you are the last elf left in middle earth, so I daresay you'll represent yourself eh?"
Maximus roared with laughter and the rest of the ladies at the table followed suit. The elf put on a smile, but Portia noted that it did not reach her eyes. The old baron stood, a move that did not increase his overall height by much.
"Please, take my seat. I must go and attend to other matters."
"Thank you, you are most gracious." The elf replied and sat, although she clearly wanted to be somewhere else.
The fire was almost down to ashes, and it was getting hard to see his cards.
"Check." He muttered, trying to sound ever so slightly too eager for the next hand.
Sure enough, there was a taker.
"Raise, twenty."
Elden glanced quickly at the board again when he thought the others weren't looking. An Ace, a three and an eight lay face up upon the table. In truth, he had nailed two pair on the flop. He twisted his mouth slightly, trying to seem agonized about the decision. He briefly considered re-raising, but that would be too bold.
"Call."
"I'll call that as well."
The two other players at the table pushed twenty silver into the pot as well. Business was apparently going well for Oneidas. Between the legitimate shipping business he oversaw and his numerous other less-than-legal ventures, he could afford to pay his employees very well. Salary did not guarantee quality, however. The next card came down. Two. It wasn't what he wanted, but two pair was still a good hand. Elden doubled the bet.
"Re-raise, forty."
"You've got to be kidding me!" the man to his left groaned.
He had been taking their money all afternoon in little bits and pieces, but he had lost a fair few hands himself. Now it was time to clean up. The others called, putting the rest of their money into the pot.
One more card came down.
Eight.
They all flipped over their cards.
"Full house. Eights full of aces." Elden said, trying to sound detached.
It was never wise to add insult to injury. The others grumbled, but they didn't raise objection as he swept up their money with his own and placed it in a draw-string bag.
"I'll buy you all drinks tomorrow morning."
The larger man shrugged.
"I don't care. That was a speck of my weekly salary."
"Oneidas pays that well, huh?" Elden said.
"Believe it." The man replied.
The conversation trailed off into story-telling and braggadocio, and Elden felt himself drift away from it as he lit his pipe. There was a comfort in the familiar, a certainty in old routines; the scrape of the flint stone as he tossed glowing sparks. The familiar grooves in the stem, worn by his fingers tracing and retracing their way to the same spots time after time. It had been a while since he had gone to sleep with an actual roof over his head.
A fell mood had overtaken him. Nellas had not returned yet, and with each passing hour the prospect looked more unlikely. He had tried to reassure himself that she was just as accomplished a fighter as he and would not be waylaid easily, but he couldn't help worrying. It was a strange feeling, a kind of emptiness he had never felt before. It was as though Nellas had flipped a switch in his head merely by her absence, and he was frightened by it. What would he do if he lost her somehow? In the midst of this sea of humanity, it was easy to envision such a thing.
The ring wasn't helping either. Although he hadn't brought it up with Nellas, he was convinced that whatever the spirit of the forest in Lothlorien had done to their rings, it had not happened as intended. It no longer spoke words in his head, and that was a relief, but it's other traits had only been magnified. Whenever he let his concentration slip he began to see strange things. When the ring was on, wherever he looked, he could begin to see through, to the other side. A world outlined in deep blues and blacks, which made the fabric of the real world shimmer and fade when the two collided at indescribable angles.
He didn't even have to be wearing the ring to see these visions any more, and this was the part that truly worried him. Was it reversible in time, if one put down the ring? He did not know and dared not ask, if only to be able to cling on to some semblance of stability.
When he came back to the present, he was almost surprised to still be sitting in his chair. The cards were being put away- slowly. All the participants including himself were fairly intoxicated.
Elden reached across the table to help, but one of the players, a tall man with a bald head and a closely-cropped beard, waved him away.
"Oh, let me." Elden said. "It's the least I can do."
"I don't regret that game." The tall man said, casting him a sidelong glance. "I know how to beat you now."
"Do you now?" Elden said. "Well, good for you. I wish I could say I have no regrets."
The tall, slim man sneered.
"You're too young to have regrets. Trust me lad, you live a few more decades and you'll see. Even the broad you carry that ring around for will make you miserable someday."
"I don't carry it for her, I carry it for me. It's my ring." Elden replied, his hands migrating unconsciously to the lump beneath his shirt.
"Win it in a carnival, did you?" The tall man said, his condescending tone still firmly in place.
Elden was starting to get annoyed. Here was this good-for nothing heap of shit, who had probably never done a decent thing in his life telling him that he didn't know which way the world spun after Elden had just cleaned him out. It was too much.
"Actually, I plucked it from a severed hand."
His tone did not shift a single octave, but suddenly he could tell that the others, including Oneidas, were paying attention.
"Is that so?" The tall man said. "You're a grave robber then."
"Not at all. It was mine to begin with." Elden lied.
It wouldn't do to have to explain how he had originally come by it, and they probably wouldn't believe him anyway.
"A man stole it from me. He was like you, but shorter and with a bigger mouth. I cut his hand off for it."
The tall man frowned and moved as if to stand up.
"You trying to say something, boy?"
"Relax, Pike. Sit down." Oneidas said abruptly. "I want to hear Elden's story."
He turned to Elden and gave him a smile which was coupled with a penetrating look.
"Do go on."
"It was stolen from me in a pub near Bree. By the time I discovered it was gone he had left. We tracked him on horseback for two weeks, me and her, and two southrons I hired."
"And you found him and cut his hand off?"
"He found us. Snuck up on our camp one night."
"So... what did you do?" Oneidas pressed him.
Elden looked back at Pike. The look on his face was skeptical, but he was listening with rapt attention.
"I cut his hand off. It was a clean slice, straight through the wrist-bone. If he had wrapped something around it right then, he probably could have lived, and when I looked into his eyes I could tell he was thinking about it. I could tell by that look that if I let him go he would never, ever come back."
He paused.
"But then I thought... you know... kill him."
"Oh, tell us more! Your stories are so delightfully rustic and adventurous! I wish I had time to take walks in the country-side..."
Portia's younger sister was named Hetty, and the girl had clearly imbibed a little to much for her dainty frame. The upper class ladies seemed to be intrigued by her, which was preferable to their scorn, but she found them all to be haughty and arrogant, utterly unconcerned with life as it went on below them, contenting themselves to talk about parties and Legolas, about whom she had received much playful ribbing. Amidst the giggling and idle talk, of which she reluctantly partook, Nellas learned things. Eomer, the King of Rohan, was riding with King Ellesar as well, as was Faramir, the actual Steward of Gondor. Maximus had been a distant relative, since no other male in his family line was old enough.
"Speaking of distant lands, where were you born Nellas?" Hetty asked, innocently.
"In Lothlorien, but I was sent to Rivendell when I was twelve years old, to study." Nellas replied, using the human name for Imladris almost automatically.
She hadn't given it much thought until now, but her elven mannerisms had slipped somewhat. She had hardly been able to converse with Legolas in her mother tongue without stumbling over her words. She resolved to practice speaking it... whenever she got time to get away and see Elden.
"I bet you missed your parents awfully." Hetty continued.
"They died, actually. That was why I was sent away so quickly."
The table grew a great deal quieter, and Hetty looked genuinely shocked.
"I'm so sorry... what happened?"
"Hetalia." Maximus's wife croaked, sternly. "It's not proper."
"It's quite all right." Nellas said. "It was almost a century ago. I have moved on. My mother was a captain, a leader of the personal host of the lady of the wood. She fell in love with my father, a common soldier, on the homeward march from battle. They were ambushed by orcs while traveling not long after I was born."
"That's awful."
Nellas shrugged.
"Like I said, I've moved on. I think they would be glad that I was able to learn from such a wise person as Lord Elrond."
At length a servant emerged and spared her any further small talk.
"Madam, the party preparations really cannot wait any longer."
"Oh all right, all right." Maximus's wife said. "I suppose we shall adjourn this little meeting."
She stood, and so did the others, Nellas following suit.
"Nellas, as you may have gathered I am holding a party and I would be honored if you would join us."
"Thank you, that is very gracious and I would love to accept but I don't think I have anything nearly fancy enough to wear." Nellas replied, hoping and praying that the woman would not insist.
She did, of course.
"Nonsense. My daughters will put their wardrobe at your disposal, won't you dears?"
"Of course!" Hetty said, slightly louder than was strictly necessary.
"Well, in that case I can hardly say no." Nellas said, quietly dreading what she had just set in motion.
"Come, come, you must see the jewels! I have no doubt father would let you borrow some of those as well." Hetty said.
Nellas found herself being led out of the disintegrating constellation of high society ladies and towards the palace. Was it just the overly-sweet alcohol they had been serving, or was she actually... enjoying herself just a little?
They were walking slowly along the street, watching the carts roll in and out of Osgiliath ceaselessly. The day was wearing to a close, and the shadows lengthening, but business never stopped.
"Remarkable, isn't it?" Oneidas mused. "One can hardly imagine that this much wealth existed, but to see it for yourself... mesmerizing."
"Quite a tempting target for a robbery." Elden contributed, without much feeling.
"You're not the first to think of that, believe me. The wilderness is shot through with bandits and thieves. In fact, if you continue working for me I might ask you to ride along with my caravans."
Elden looked up at the towering inner walls of Gondor. It was a sight that never got old, and yet it also felt an oddly oppressing scenery.
"I don't know how much longer I'm staying here, Oneidas."
The old man nodded.
"Aye, I figured that. I don't blame you."
"I have a lead on where she is. I'm going to go find her tonight, so we could be gone by as soon as next morning."
"What happened to her meeting you back in Osgiliath?"
"I don't know, that's what I'm going to go find out."
Oneidas shook his head.
"You really are in love, aren't you?"
Elden nodded.
"She's the only person I've ever met that really knows me."
"That's not entirely true." Oneidas countered, "I know a fair bit about you."
"Is that so?" Elden said.
"Sure. I can tell just by lookin' 'atcha. ...I'm going to give you some advice Elden. You and I have tread similar paths, lad. How do you think I got into this business? I was doing the same thing you are now, just wandering, going wherever tomorrow takes you, and I don't regret it, but... Believe me when I say that you need to find something to tie you down or one day you'll find you've wandered into a scrape that you can't get yourself out of. You need to find a place where you can just BE, if you catch my meaning."
Elden met his eyes now and gave him a hard, searching look. He wanted to retort, to tell the man that he was dead wrong, that he knew nothing about him and it was pretentious of him to guess, but... he couldn't. Because he knew it was true.
Nellas felt relief as her feet touched the concrete patio of the embassy once more. Someone had come inside and lit the oil lamps in their sconces in her absence, but she wasn't particularly concerned as to who it had been, since it wasn't her home anyway. As it turned out, it was only Lydia.
"How was it, ma'am?"
"Very nice." Nellas lied. "I need nothing further today. You may go home."
"Don't you at least want me to take your worn clothes?"
"I will manage, thank you."
Lydia smiled and curtsied.
"Good night ma'am."
"Good night."
When she had heard the maid's footsteps retreat down the hall and the door shut, she wandered through the rooms, looking inside cabinets and cupboards. Everything was so richly furnished, and the floor was spotlessly clean. She kicked off her shoes and clothes until she was wearing nothing but her undergarments. She located a bottle of sherry, and brought it out to the balcony with her. The wood felt cool against her bare skin as she leaned against it, uncorking the bottle and taking a long swig. Unseen by her, something slid down from the roof and onto the balcony behind her.
She heard a board creak and whipped around to find...
...Elden.
He had that familiar wry smile on his face, and she couldn't help but return it.
"Hey stranger." He said.
She threw her arms around him, their lips pressing together as though magnetically attracted. He broke free and grabbed the sherry bottle with one hand, and her buttock with the other.
"Why aren't you wearing any clothes?" He said, staring at her bare chest.
She shrugged.
"Too warm out for clothes. Besides, I thought I had this place to myself."
"Not anymore." Elden said playfully, taking a swig of the cheap cooking alcohol and setting it down on the ledge beside them.
"I'm back, and there are going to be a lot changes around here."
They embraced again, longer this time. Elden lifted her up and deposited her on the railing, bringing her closer to his height and nearly knocking the sherry over the edge.
"Wait-" Nellas said reluctantly as he kissed her neck, "-we should go inside. Who knows who is watching? And what about tomorrow?"
"We can make plans later." Elden growled in response. "Tomorrow will keep. Tonight is for us."
Before she could protest he picked her up and carried her to her room in his arms like a helpless kitten.
It was oddly quiet as dawn broke over Gondor. On the top tiers of the city, the built up muffling effect meant that the drone of the levels below was almost silenced, leaving only the wind. Nellas was in utter bliss. She felt like she could lie in the bed for the rest of her long life and be content every moment. Her head rested on Elden's chest as it gently rose and fell, and his breath warmed the top of her head.
Then she remembered where she was, and everything else fell into place, bringing her abruptly back down to earth.
She pulled the covers back and swung her legs out of bed, intending to bathe quickly before the sun had a chance to creep any higher. When she had returned Elden was awake, gathering his clothes from where they had been hastily abandoned in the heat of passion.
"You should take a shower too, you're pretty ripe." Nellas said.
"What I should do is get out of here before the maid arrives. She almost caught me on the way in. I was trapped up on the roof for hours last night before you came home."
"It'll be fine."
"It won't." Elden said. "You don't understand how the human upper class works. Who you're having sex with is everything."
"So what, you're just going to run off again and leave me here? I don't want to stay here!"
"You don't?" Elden said, bemused. "I mean, I'd rather not live in Gondor either, but this place is fantastic... I already have a job in the city and you could hire me as a servant in due time so I have an excuse to be here and out of the rabble."
"No, I don't. I don't want to spend the precious days I have with you in Gondor, lying about who we are, no matter how good the accommodations." said Nellas, raising her voice slightly as she did so.
"And why not? This "ambassador" gig is a chance in a million!"
Nellas took a deep breath. Either Elden would understand her sentiment, or he wouldn't.
"For two reasons. First, I hate the people I have to rub elbows with here. They're crude and stupid, and I doubt it will be any better when King Ellesar returns."
"And?"
"And second, I can't enjoy any of this knowing that people are suffering down below. That might sound silly, but that was how I was raised. This city is cruel. I won't be a part of it."
Elden stared at her for a long while, his eyebrows raised. Then he pursed his lips, glanced at the carpet and nodded.
"Alright."
"Alright?" Nellas said, incredulous.
She had thought he would put up a much bigger argument that this.
"I want whatever will make you happy. If this place doesn't make you happy, we can leave tomorrow."
"Really?"
"Really. But lets not do that just yet." Elden said.
A smile was coming over his face, and she had seen this one before. It was the one that made her feel like a little girl again, about to commit some nameless mischief.
"First let me take a look around and see what can be brought with us."
Normally it would be Nellas's job to protest this idea, but the words struck a chord in her head, making her remember something...
Very quickly, an idea took shape in her mind. Separate factors whirled together in one breathtaking conclusion. It was at once very stupid, and very exciting. She beckoned Elden closer and whispered it in his ear, scarcely able to prevent herself from laughing as she saw the look of shock spread across his features.
"You're kidding." He said when she was done, his mouth hanging slightly agape.
"I'm deadly serious. The party is tomorrow. We could be gone in an afternoon and no one would notice until it was too late."
She could almost see the cogs whirling behind his eyeballs, mulling it all over.
"I will have to find a way inside without an invitation, but I think I have an idea."
At that moment the rattle of keys muffled by a door reached her ears.
"We'll discuss this tonight-" Elden said, and dashed from the room, his shoes still in his hands. She watched him run out onto the balcony and clamber onto the roof just as Lydia entered.
"Morning ma'am. Good heavens, it's awfully drafty in here..." The young girl said, closing the balcony door.
"Is it fine with you if I start in the bedroom?"
"Whatever you feel is best." Nellas said.
She went out into the living room and retrieved the bottle of sherry, putting it back in it's proper cupboard before returning to the couch and collapsing into a welcome mid-morning nap. Elden hadn't let her get much sleep.
When she woke again it was dusk, and Lydia was shaking her gently.
"Ma'am? Ma'am?"
"Mmmfff." Nellas said. "How many times must I tell you to call me Nellas?"
"At least once more, ma'am, as always." Lydia replied, smiling. "I've finished the cleaning and I'm going home. There is more food in the larder downstairs. You should warn me though, before you have another gentleman caller. That way I might be better able to prepare."
Nellas sat upright, rubbing sleep from her eyes.
"How did you know someone was here?"
"Begging your pardon, ma'am, but the sheets were a mess. I had to run back to my room to get my special cleaner."
The elf turned bright red.
"I'm sorry, I didn't think..."
"Not many of us can when we're lying on our back." Lydia said with a wink. "Just remember that hardwood is a lot easier to clean than silk. Plus it feels delightfully cool on the backside whilst-"
"Thank you Lydia, that will be all!" Nellas said loudly, but she was smiling.
"Of course. Night ma'am."
When she had gone, Nellas went to the ice chest in the cellar and put out food for two on the table. There was generous portions of venison and mutton, but not much in the way of vegetables. Some limp greens meant to make a salad that was more décor than substance and cheese hard from the cold, but it was much better than they had eaten on the road, so she hardly felt like complaining. As she set two places at the wide dining table, something fluttered past her, and she looked up to see a moth that was clearly lost. With a quick flick of her wrist she caged it between her fingers and palm without hurting it. She whispered words of comfort in Sindarin to bestill it, and then opened the sliding glass door to the balcony and let it free. She watched it go into the rapidly approaching darkness, a lone mote of dust at the summit of a great mountain of man.
"How did you catch it?"
She turned to see Elden sitting on a bench beside the flower planters.
"You're getting better at that."
"At what?" He said, but the smile was already evident.
"At sneaking up on me. It's almost like you are trying to get me back for all those times you startled like a whipped mule when we first met."
"I couldn't help it, you don't make any noise. You're like a leaf fluttering down from a tree."
She came and sat down next to him and laid her head on his broad shoulder, which was still warm from exertion.
"How did you catch it?" He asked again.
"It is a trick that originated with the scouts of the Mirkwood elves, and was taught to the rangers and many others. A moth sees many things, but not many things see a moth."
"The moths... speak back?" Elden said.
"Very softly, yes. Sindarin is an old language, not at all like Westron. Many of the wiser beasts still know it."
"Will you teach it to me?"
Nellas glanced at him.
"If you wish. I warn you though, it is no easy task."
"We have plenty of time." He said, placing his hand on her knee gently.
She took it and interlaced her fingers with his, observing the differences between them.
"Did you manage to get an invitation?" She asked, at length.
"I'm sitting on it. Fresh servant uniform from the clotheslines in the palace garden. I've also made arrangements for our departure. We will have to meet them in Osgiliath."
"Then the ring still works?"
"Better than before." Elden replied. "Before I would have still had to worry about my footsteps and my shadow, but now those are gone. I can see better, I can hear better... does yours still work as well?"
Nellas nodded.
"Yes, I've noticed the same thing. It seems that Sauron's taint had corroded the true power of Celebrimbor's works. It no longer speaks to me, but..."
She trailed off, unable to describe the sensation.
"It shows you things." Elden finished.
"Yes... it shows you... other places. Places that time cannot reach. Places between ages, places connecting them. Some of them are quite wonderful."
Nellas turned to him and their eyes met.
"Sometimes I wish I could go there Elden. They are real places, not dreams. I'm sure of it."
"Is this what the spriggan warned about?" Elden wondered aloud.
They were both quiet for a long time, simply watching each other.
"There is food on the table." Nellas said at last, and by silent agreement they both got up and went inside.
Dawn the next day was clouded over, the condensation too great for the sun to burn through. Noon came and went and the gloom showed no signs of clearing, although it seemed reluctant to rain as well. The path up to the palace was more crowded than usual, as were the streets beside the embassy. The pinnacle of Gondor, whose central spike jutted out towards the Fields of Pelenor, loomed beside them as they climbed. There were merchants, wealthy tradesmen, nobles, ranking officers, dignitaries, people of renown and all their accompanied hangers-on. It seemed as though the entire contents of the top two tiers of Gondor had come, with a few from tiers below who were lucky enough to receive invitations and were obviously wearing their best clothes.
Her own garb was nothing to sneeze at, either. She wore a dark green dress with white stitching about the hem, neck, and sleeves. She had worn her summer moccasins underneath, because although they were less than halfway through spring, she needed to be light on her feet and tread silently. On her finger she wore her ring. She had taken to doing this more often, and she could certainly use it now. Strangely, she did not feel giddy or excited or nervous, as she had this morning. All the butterflies in her stomach had been replaced by calm certainty. This would either work or it wouldn't, and she could see no reason why it wouldn't.
As they drew level with the gardens, the sounds of music began to reach their ears. It was quick and happy, and blended with murmurs of excitement. There were two guards at the gate checking the line of people against a ledger of invitees, but they took one look at her and let her pass.
Almost immediately she spotted Portia. She was standing beside a large fountain, bedecked in an array of finery that made the dress she had let Nellas borrow look like a pauper's gown.
"Nellas! I was wondering if you were going to show up!"
"Of course-" Nellas said, smiling, "I couldn't just borrow your things and run off, could I?"
"You make it look so elegant," said Portia, "sometimes less really is more."
Nellas laughed.
"I'll take that as a compliment."
"It was. Come here, I have someone you absolutely must meet."
She was led away from the throng of girls and over to the other side of the statue where a pair of officers in dress uniform were standing. The one facing her was very handsome. His face with lean and sharply defined, like Elden, except that he seemed to be several years older. And he was missing an eye. A white trail of scar tissue issued out from under the patch, highlighting the channel the blade had cut. At their approach he said something to his comrade, who glanced behind him and quickly hurried off.
"Nellas, I would like to introduce you to Captain Keedrik. His family is friends with my father's. He just returned from the southern provinces a few days ago to become the head of the watch."
Nellas shook his hand. Suddenly, she could feel many eyes on her at once. Although the conversations continued unabated, she could tell that she was being watched carefully.
"Pleasure to meet you. Congratulations on your promotion."
"The pleasure is all mine." he said. "Portia and Hetty have told me all about you. Is it true that you were a student of Elrond?"
"Indeed." Nellas said. "I did have that privilege. One of the last under his instruction, in fact."
"So, if I may ask, why have you remained behind? Is the grey road closed to you?"
"I suppose you may ask. It is closed to no-one, but it does not carry the same pull for me as it does my kin. I still long to see the sea someday, though."
"You have not?" Keedrik said, astonished.
"No, never."
"I saw it on the march south. We had to sail across parts of it, actually."
"And how was it?" Nellas asked.
"It was..." He began, and then trailed off, a distant look in his good eye. "...The novelty wears off after a while. Let me put it that way."
At that moment the band began to play, and the Captain's comrade returned with drinks.
"Will you dance?" Keedrik asked, his tone light.
"I am waiting for my betrothed." Nellas replied. "He always wants the first dance."
The captain took rejection like a gentleman, and that made her feel even worse about it.
"Of course. If you spot me again you will have to introduce us. He must be quite a man."
"He is, and I will." Nellas said with a smile, and they parted with an amicable wave.
She drifted over to the long refreshments table and slowly filled a plate, looking all around for any sign of her co-conspirator. The evening was getting on and darkness was fast approaching. The sooner this was done, the better.
At that moment, a servant appeared at her elbow, gathering up empty dishes.
"Are you finding everything to your satisfaction, ma'am?"
She almost whipped around, but stopped herself.
"What took you so long?" she hissed out of the corner of her mouth.
"The head waiter is suspicious of me." Elden said quietly. "I've been avoiding him. Do you know where we're going?"
"Yes. How soon can you get away?"
"Be here in two minutes. I have to bring out another set of chafing dishes and then I'll follow you."
Then, just like that he disappeared. She moved off around the edge of the dance floor until she was beside the palace itself. There were the large doors in the center that led into the throne room, and opened onto the plaza and the white tree of Gondor, which was in full blossom. Around the side, however, there was a flight of several stairs that led down and to a side-door that opened directly onto the bottom floor of the royal living quarters. It was here that she encountered the first snag.
A pair of guards were standing in front of the door, guards who had not been there previously when Portia had shown her Maximus's chambers which he shared with his wife. She turned around and began moving back to the refreshment tables, her mind casting around wildly for a plan. Now her heart began to pound. She snatched a drink off a passing platter and downed it in one, nearly choking on the strong liquor. Luckily everyone was either on the dance floor or watching it, and no longer staring at her every move. Sure enough, Elden was laying out fresh serving dishes when she returned. She set down her dish of food and poked Elden in the hip as she passed him a second time.
"There is a problem. Walk close beside me and play along."
Eorl leaned against the wall, pike in hand. It was absolutely torture having to stand at attention all night while the well-to-do folks were having the time of their drunken lives just a few feet away. Bjorn's servant girlfriend had snuck them a few beers, but beyond that there was not much they could do besides watch, and ensure that no undesirables tried to enter the castle while the occupants were otherwise entertained.
Out of the throng of partiers emerged two figures, one doubled over and seemingly about to be sick, and the other, a servant he didn't recognize, guiding her with one arm over her shoulder. With some surprise, he saw that the sick person was actually the newly minted elven ambassador.
"Excuse me fellas." The servant said, looking mortified at the responsibility that had just been thrust on him.
They both stepped aside and allowed him to pass without a word. Eorl glanced sideways at his compatriot, who was grinning.
"Forgot to pace herself, do you reckon?"
"Aye. Gondor will do that to you."
Most of the torches had been put out by the servants. Elden said a silent prayer of thanks for this darkness as they stole down the corridor. The carpeted flagstones muffled their feet to nothing. Hearing nothing, Elden slipped on his ring and vanished from mortal sight, distinguishable to Nellas only as a grey, spectral figure. Together they stole through the hallways like a pair of ghosts. Hearing no one, they made their way quickly up three flights of stairs and emerged into the royal sleeping quarters, which the stewards had put themselves up in for the time being. She found Maximus's door and turned the handle, but it was locked. Her heart began to race. They had to get back out, now.
"Move aside." Elden hissed.
She watched as he reached into his pocket and produced two small metal protrusions. He inserted both into the keyhole and began to shift one of them up and down, back and forth. Less than a minute later there was a click, and the cylinder turned. Elden likewise turned the handle, and the door swung inward. Nellas's heart was pounding even faster now, supplemented by a wave of giddy adrenaline. There was a receiving area with two couches on either wall and a desk in the corner for a secretary to sit at. Everything was carpeted in here as well. The stone of the walls and ceiling had been smoothed. There were several bookcases behind the desk, and a great grandfather clock that ticked back and forth, producing the only noise to be heard. To their right was another door.
"You know where they are, right?"
Nellas nodded.
"Good. Then grab a bag and take everything you can carry. I'll keep an eye out."
"Shouldn't we try to hide it in our clothes?"
"No. Worst case scenario you can just hand me your bag. I'm invisible, remember? Now hurry up, this has to be done fast."
Nellas went through the door and darted down the short hallway. There were two more doors on either side, rooms for guests and children. At the end was the master bedroom. It was in much the same condition that she had left it when Portia allowed her to borrow her dress. She went to the bed and took both of the fine silk cases from their pillows and went right into the dressing area, a sort of rectangle that had been divided off from the rest of the room by a privacy screen. She opened drawer after drawer, snatching up jewels from the felt and placing them in the pillowcase. When everything was gone she went to the nightstands at either side of the bed and took rings, cufflinks and a roll of fat gold coins which might have been Maximus's spending money. Then she went to the cupboard and emptied the silver into the bag, wincing as it jangled loudly. She cast her eye around the room one more time, and went over to Maximus' writing desk. It was very untidy, strewn with papers. She grabbed a few more coins that she had missed on the first pass, and then, almost as an afterthought, a small set of stamps with the royal crest on them. This last item she placed in her pocket.
As she emerged out into the receiving area, Elden shut the door and waved to her.
"There's a maid coming, hide!"
Nellas quickly moved over to the desk and crouched underneath it, curling herself into a ball and pulling the two bags in after her. A moment later the door swung open. Nellas became absolutely still, afraid even to breathe lest she give herself away. The maid shut the door behind her, and, peeking through a crack in the wood, Nellas could see that she was heading right for the bedroom. Before she had time to even consider a plan of action, Elden was moving. One hand wrapped around her mouth, silencing the scream and the other went to her neck, pinching it in three places. The woman struggled and flailed, trying to hit Elden in the face, but she did not have an angle on him.
"The more you struggle the bigger headache you will have when you wake up." he said, matter-of-factly.
Shortly thereafter she was knocked unconscious, and her body fell slack in Elden's arms. He scooped her up and placed her in one of the rooms, ripping off his shirt to tie her arms and legs and gag her. Then he locked the door behind him with a key from her pocket. As he did this, Nellas caught a glance at her face.
"It's... Lydia."
"I had to do it." Elden said crossing the room to the door and peeking out again. "She would have given us away."
"What if Maximus sent her to get something?"
"Then we have about five minutes. Give me the bags. Do you know a way out?"
"Of course." Nellas said. "There is a path on the bottom floor that the guards use to relieve the watch at the palace gate. What is my story this time?"
"You've just finished vomiting your guts out and you're going home."
"And why am I walking out the guard's service entrance?"
"I don't know. Wing it. And remember, you look like you're alone. I can't speak for elves, but talking to thin air is highly suspicious among my people."
Nellas marveled that he still had the gall to be sarcastic at a time like this as they sped through the corridors and down the stairs. Once again, they did not encounter anyone. The party was still in full swing, and perhaps even more boisterous than they had left it, if the sound coming in through the slit windows was any indication. Instead of proceeding to the end of the hallway once they had come down the stairs, they took a left at the landing and Nellas opened a side door. The chill night air and the sounds of music greeted them. A narrow footpath was cut into the side of the grey rock, out of sight of the plaza. It circled around until it brought them to the stone archway that held the gate. She opened the door and let Elden out first. In a stroke of serendipity, the guard that had let her into the party was away, and the other was asleep, thick gusts of beer breath wafting from underneath his mustache.
"Wasn't he the one by the palace just a few minutes ago?" came a disembodied voice from over her shoulder.
"Shh! Let's go before we attract attention."
It took them three minutes to make it back to the embassy cottage, because Nellas insisted on walking. Once they were inside and the door shut they both stripped out of their clothes and pulled on their traveling garments. She couldn't deny she had enjoyed pretending to be a proper lady and feeling a stiff breeze around her nether region, but it was a huge relief to slip on the tunic, breaches and hooded traveling cloak again, especially since they had been thoroughly cleaned. She put her moccasins back on, took a sheet of parchment, quill and inkwell from one of the desks and began to write furiously in Westron.
Elden went and got their rucksacks, filling each with an equal share of the loot, and then using the empty pillowcases to pack them down so they did not rattle while moving. Then he hooked one bag over either shoulder and threw his cloak on, fastening it at his neck. When he was done he looked over and found Nellas dripping a fat glob of candlewax onto the bottom of the paper. She then produced a stamp from her pocket and pressed it down evenly, spreading the wax into a seal.
"What is that?"
"It will get us from here to Osgiliath unmolested." Nellas said. "You said that you had horses waiting for us."
"I do."
"Then let us away."
Two figures emerged from the shadows of the elven embassy. One was visible, and one was not. They looked left, then right, and then made their way silently away from the unfolding chaos.
Oneidas sat on a badly beaten chair, watching some hired urchins unload his merchandise. He liked these boys, they were gentle with the goods despite their age, and they always seemed to be around when he needed them. His joints were aching something fierce, but thankfully there was mead in his mug.
The light of torches set into the compound wall illuminated two people as they stepped through the gate and into the gravel wagon-yard. He peered closely, and would not have been able to identify them had they not both removed their hoods at this moment. It was Elden and his friend.
"To what do I owe this pleasure?"
"I need to buy some horses." The lad said, getting right to the point.
"I'm a little stretched right now, these are all I have and I'm not in a position to sell."
He gestured to his left, where his eight pullers were located, watching the newcomers with big dark eyes. They were not especially fast, but they were strong and reliable, good cart-horses.
"I'm pressed for time as well. I'll take two and give you ten times what they're worth."
"Will you now?" Oneidas said, raising an eyebrow. "Where on earth do you get all this money?"
"What price." Elden said, ignoring the question.
"Fifty silver each." Oneidas said, setting a steep rate.
Without hesitation the lad reached into his pocket and produced ten gold coins.
"There you go. Ten times asking price, just like I said."
Oneidas accepted it without question. He could easily find two more cart-horses for this and have plenty left over.
"I take it you're leaving?"
"Yes. We're not welcome here anymore."
"I see." Oneidas replied. "Then I would recommend crossing the river and heading north towards the Rhun like you had planned. It is far beyond the reach of Gondor."
"Thank you." Elden said.
He and his companion opened the stalls lead the horses out.
"You don't want a saddle? Or a bit?"
Elden shook his head.
"Nellas has a way of convincing them to stick around."
They both mounted their new steeds.
"Well, you are interesting folk and it will be a shame to see the back of you."
"And you as well." Elden replied. "I won't forget your hospitality."
"On the road north you'll come to a town. Keep an eye out for my other warehouse. It's run by my old friend Tycho, it has both our names out front in big letters, you can't miss it. Just tell him I sent you and he can help you with anything you might need."
"Gracious to a fault." Elden said, as Nellas whispered something in her horses' ear.
Oneidas grinned.
"Great, now scram before that changes. My mama always said, 'Stand not on the order of thy going, but go!'"
Without another word they were gone, disappearing into the night.
The room was a mess. Every last drawer had been ripped from its dresser and its contents emptied on the floor. Everything that was even remotely valuable had been snatched. The watch had immediately cordoned off the scene once the crime had been discovered, and the aggrieved parties had been escorted off. This was a huge relief, because Maximus was beside himself with rage and seemed inclined to take it out on anyone who happened to be within range. It was a hell of a way to begin his career, but beggars couldn't be choosers. He already had people pouring over the guest list, and there was a witness in front of him, but as it turned out she knew almost nothing about her assailant.
"So you didn't even see him?"
"No, I swear! My back was turned and he was on me in a second. Then I hear a man's voice telling me to go to sleep. The next thing I remember I'm waking up to this."
"Don't worry." The captain said, comfortingly, "You're not at fault here."
"I know but I just-" she said, the tears threatening to well up again, "-I don't know if Maximus will see it that way..."
"Nonsense." Keedrik said. "I will make sure he understands."
At this moment his number two, a fresh-faced lieutenant, rushed into the room.
"Why don't you go get some rest Lydia, we can continue this later."
When the maid had gone he went over to the chair behind the desk, sat down, and let out a long sigh.
"Tell me you have something."
"As a matter of fact, I do." The young man said.
The captain perked up considerably.
"Well? Out with it."
"It has come to the attention of the watch that the recently minted Elven ambassador has chosen this morning to disappear without a trace. The front door of the embassy was left ajar and all her things are gone. She left in a hurry."
Unbidden, the face of the elf drifted across the polished desktop as he stared down at it.
I'm waiting for my betrothed. He always wants the first dance.
"Sir?" The lieutenant asked, probing his pensive silence.
"Alert the highway patrols to be on the lookout for an elf and a human man. She's not alone."
A/N: Again, my apologies for the lag. I'm doing the best I can with a full plate and this chapter turned out to be much larger than I anticipated (29 pages exactly). Two or three chapters to go now, depending on how long certain scenes take. Thank you for being patient. This story WILL be finished.