A/N - Yes; I get a strange sadistic kick out of creating annoying characters and promptly killing them. I am most wrong.

Chapter 8 - A Crimson Night

Seven days had passed since Tinuial had looked the last upon Arreion, yet the memory of the final glance of his clear, sorrowful eyes still lingered with her like a soft shadow on the edge of vision. Never again would she behold those sharp eyes, keen as lances and grey as the depths of the tempestuous ocean. When the immediate anguish and disbelief caused by the death of Annariel had faded, Tinuial was left only with a deep guilt which would dwell in her heart always, alongside the wraithlike memories of Arreion. She cursed the ill chances that had brought her to this pass, and wished that she had never become entangled with the fates of the Firstborn. Only grief had she brought to Elves who had fostered her, and the doom of Annariel been wrought by her own foolhardiness, though none could have forseen it. And never in all her life would she forget the stolen kiss of Arreion. She almost wept as she plodded onwards into the East with her three companions. Dark plains sprawled out before them, and they were leaving the hills behind, though Tinuial knew not their precise location.

They had now crossed the borders of Nargothrond, and the wiild lands beyond her sight seemed to call to her with a distant yet compelling voice, now that she had passed forever out of the knowledge of the folk of the great realm, her home. When they halted for the night, Tinuial sat cold and silent, watching Thaliondil and Erdal as they spoke sombrely. Thaliondil, though still stricken with grief, was greatly relieved to be gone from Nargothrond, and seemed to draw strength from the presence of Erdal and Tinuial. His mood had lifted a little - and perhaps as a result of Annariel's death, he began to treat Tinuial with more gentleness than he ever had before. He had also become well acquainted with Erdal, and would at times speak pleasantly with the Elf, even amiably. His attitude towards Carnil, however, remained somewhat wintry and remote. Tinuial spared little thought for this. It was not the first time her brother had taken an instant and undeserving dislike to someone for no good reason. Carnil appeared untroubled by it in any case, and as there was no open animosity between them, and Thaliondil's behaviour was not objectionable at least, Tinuial decided to let the matter rest. Carnil himself seemed was thoroughly strange to Tinuial. For though he was courteous, and pleasant towards his companions, he would speak only when spoken to, and his face more often wore a grimace than a smile. He had revealed nothing of his origins or his lineage, though neither Tinuial or Thaliondil had questioned him of such things, and if Erdal knew aught of him, he kept it secret.

The crimson sun sank low, yet it was the sole light, for the companions had chosen not to light a fire, and they kept the lantern veiled. Time drew reluctantly on, and within minutes, Erdal and Thaliondil lay at rest. The blazing crimson sunset sent forth molten rays like the dying embers of the sun's fire, which fell upon the grim face of Carnil making him seem bathed in blood. Of late his gaze had strayed most often upon the face of Tinuial, though never again had he clasped her hand as he had done on the day of Arreion's departure. Tinuial had made nothing of this, and indeed had barely heeded him until now, and chiefly spent her time in silent thought, and alone when possible. Memories of her sister - and, to her shame, Arreion - had occupied much of her thought. Yet now the notion dawned on her that perhaps she had offended Carnil. She looked into his sharp eyes, and he gazed back solemnly. Tinuial hurriedly looked away, dragged herself to her feet and strolled away from her companions, past the slumbering form of her brother. She moved slowly, almost glided into the red light, as though entranced by its violent beauty as it stained the blazing sky like frozen flame.

'Can you not sleep?' A hushed voice came from behind her. It was Carnil. Tinuial started, for she had heard no rumour of his approach, and had not expected him to follow her. Though she realised with a start that she had hoped he would.

'I am restless,' she murmured into the night. 'How can I slumber, when the heavens are thus wakeful?' Carnil did not reply, but stood now silently beside Tinuial, his eyes clouded by deep thought.

'Are you well?' Tinuial whispered at last. Carnil frowned, though once more he did not reply. Tinuial continued uncertainly, 'I fear that I have offended you, though I know not how.' Carnil drew a deep breath, replying with a discernable edge of bitterness.

'Other matters there may be, besides yourself, Lady, which may cause me grief.' Tinuial took the meaning of his words at once, and she had heard the acidic tinge in his voice. Without pausing to consider her own words, she replied dryly:

'How foolish of me to suggest that I may be of slightest importance to you. If you'll excuse me.' She strode off briskly, caring not whither she went. But Carnil, after a moments hesiattion, leapt after her.

'Twist not my words!' He growled, following her whilst she strode as swiftly as was possible upon the rough ground. 'You have done naught to offend me! Though I say to you that there are some matters in which I will be second to none!'

'Speak plainer,' Tinuial said sternly. 'And, sir, if you have any sense at all, you will not raise your voice to me!' Still she hurtled with great speed across the rough uneven, almost breaking into a run, and Carnil placed his hand firmly upon her shoulder to restrain her.

'I shall speak as I see fit!' He cried. 'And you would have me explain myself? Then I shall. I care for you indeed, and well you know it!' Tinuial turned slowly and looked into his face. He had far more to say, as was clear from his face, though he only sighed and gazed into the deathly sunset. The fading light reflected upon the cold surface of his eyes as Tinuial spoke now far more softly.

'Then I ask you again what I have done to anger you - for it is plain that I have.'

'I fear that you love another.' The wrath had now faded from his voice, yet still he glared icily at Tinuial.

'I know not of whom you speak.' She claimed doubtfully, though she clearly spoke falsehood, and her words fooled neither of them. Even as she spoke the ghost of Arreion seemed to hover between them

'You lie! For you know well,' he raged. 'It is Arreion you love! The Elf of Nargothrond who is gone.' Overcome by a sudden crippling stab of grief, which turned swiftly to anger, with her shivering hand Tinuial smote Carnil hard across his face with more force than would have seemed possible of a hand so small and delicate. How dare he speak of Arreion! He knew nothing of the pain evoked by that memory. In his shock Carnil took a step backwards, though still he clasped her cold arm, dragging Tinuial closer to him with a sudden jolt. The smouldering fire of her eyes was dimmed as she replied at last.

'Arreion was betrothed to Annariel, who is also gone,' she whispered, a tear rolling down her cheek and glistening like a bead of glass as it fell.

'Clearly did I percieve his love for you.' Carnil said bitterly, 'Though I deemed that you did not return it. Yet now I see that it is not so! Your thoughts have been elsewhere of late. Indeed, you have been sorrowful, yet you have shed more tears for his sake than for your sister's! Do not deny this, Lady, for I see your mind.'

'My thoughts are mine alone!' She shouted, tearing herself from his grasp. 'If you accuse me of caring for Arreion, then I am guilty, for he was my worthy companion. I did love him indeed, as one may love a friend, or a brother! He led us through many perils, and I believe that I owe him my life. That I am sorrowful at his departure, and that I fear for his safety I do not deny. But I do not love him as Annariel loved him.' As she uttered the words, she knew them at last to be the truth. She had never been truly in love with Arreion; but she missed him still. She felt as though he had died along with her sister, and her father. The grief was still fresh, still raw; how could Carnil not understand that? There was hardly space in her heart or mind for anything but the sorrow of losing so many loved ones. Tinuial turned to leave, but Carnil seized her arm once more.

'Lady, give me token that you speak the truth.' He pulled her close to him, and she felt his hot breath upon her cheek.

'Is my word not enough?' She met his gaze, her dark eyes smouldering. 'Are you truly so selfish - so inept that you cannot understand my pain, at losing my beloved sister, father and friend all at once?' Carnil flinched, and looked away.

'Yes, perhaps I am, at that,' he muttered. 'I understand little enough of women.'

'Such stupidity!' Tinuial half-screamed at him. 'Do you think that grief is the province of women alone? That a man can know nothing of it?'

'No, Lady. And if you knew more of me, you would not speak thus!' Carnil growled, becoming angry in turn. 'I am merely unused to maidens who wail and whimper at the sight of blood, and who turn every misfortune into a drama!'

Tinuial stared at him in horror. She could have screamed, could have raged at him; but she felt suddenly so drained.

'I am weary,' she said coldly. 'I return now to the camping place.'

'I ask you to remain. For I can see that you are not weary, and I would talk with you for yet a while.' He mumbled softly, perhaps regretting his former words. Tinuial, however, was in no mood to be swayed, and she tried once more to break free from him.

'I go whither I will!' She snapped, surprising him with her sudden vehemence. 'Unhand me!'

'As you wish!' He cried, clearly aggrivated, pushing her from him sharply. She stumbled, and almost fell to the ground, though swiftly she regained her balance and stood glaring at Carnil, who merely stared back wide-eyed. Never had she appeared so beautiful to him as in this moment, with her straight pale hair now tangled and straying in the breeze, and her dark eyes angry and vivid, though half-obscured by the darkening night.

At that moment, Thaliondil appeared from the lengthening shadows and he strode towards them in great haste.

'What goes forth?' He snapped breathlessly, eyeing Carnil dubiously.

'Naught, my brother.' Tinuial assured him with a weak smile, and Carnil lowered his eyes. Involving an irate Thaliondil in their argument was hardly going to improve matters.

'Do not defend this ruffian, if he has done you harm!' Thaliondil's eyes glinted as he gazed once more at Carnil, who clenched his fist at these words, his eyes burning, though he remained silent.

'I am not hurt,' Tinuial said lightly. 'Myself and Carnil were having a slight disagreement, yet it is of no great importance. You are mistaken.' Thaliondil looked narrowly at his sister, then turned to the tall, dark figure of Carnil. The sharp suspicion did not leave Thaliondil's eyes, and it was plain that he gave his sister's words little credance. Carnil glared back at the Elf, his eyes kindled. He was full of fury, still, from his encounter with Tinuial, and was enraged still further by Thaliondil's insult, though he said nothing. Behind his rage he felt dimly that he had indeed acted inappropriately towards Tinuial. Thus he endured Thaliondil's mistrust with more patience than he would usually have displayed in such a situation, and followed her intensely with his eyes as she took her brother's arm and allowed herself to be guided swiftly back to the camping place.