A/N - Ohh, there's badness afoot...ohh yes; I'm wheeling that barrow down the furrow of cliche, ha haa! (and Battling Bard, I can't thank you enough for your kind comments and support!)

Chapter 21 - The Agony of the Interrupted

'Why did you leave me, Thaliondil? Why did you leave?' Tinuial exclaimed angrily, hysteria thrumming beneath her voice. 'I thought you'd left me, or been killed!'

It was late morning, and the thin, pale sunlight spilled in through the window of Tinuial's chamber, making the gold-flecked walls glimmer faintly. Thaliondil had at last come to visit her, and she held him fiercely in her arms, angry tears burgeoning from her eyes.

'I'm sorry,' he apologised quietly, returning her embrace more gently and staring through the window past her shoulder. His eyes were fixed upon the blanched heavens, and the swaying branches of the trees.

'I would forgive you, if only you would give me some word of explanation!' She drew away, her gaze fixed steadily upon him.

'I was not myself, when I departed from Menegroth,' he said slowly, looking tenderly into her eyes. 'It was not my intention to cause you pain, I simply needed to be alone,'

'You think of no one but yourself!' Tinuial exclaimed, yet though her words were reproachful, her voice had softened a little, and held no true malice or rage.

'I'm sorry,' he repeated, his eyes cast to the smooth, immaculate floor. What more could he say? There were no words to contain his pain or regret. His eyes were full of bitter tears, yet he would not allow them to fall, or break free. If he began to weep, he would surely be unable to stop.

'What is in your mind, brother?' Tinuial breathed.

'It seems to me sometimes, that all the world wheels and flows about me, changing and altering itself swifter than the blossoming of the morning sun,' he said distantly, and Tinuial frowned slightly in confusion a she gazed intently into his eyes. 'Yet after a few precious moments, the flicker of dawn is gone. Naught can remain forever the same, and no joy however tightly you grasp it can endure unmarred. Such has been my life! All that I hold dear has been torn from me.' He could not tell his sister the thing that lay at the core of his suffering; could not bear to utter the words aloud, even to himself.

'Do you long to return to Nargothrond?' Tinuial asked solemnly, 'I see that you grieve for that which is lost.'

'Were I to return, I should be no happier,' he said slowly. 'If it were possible, I would dwell in the past. Ere father cast aside his life. When mother was with us still; before Annariel died. Before I-' he fell silent, unable to continue.

'When were you ever truly happy, my brother? I cannot remember a time,' she answered truthfully.

'Nay, perhaps you are right,' he answered with the tiniest smile. 'I had no notion of how blessed I was, then.'

'Our lives shall never again be as they once were,' Tinuial replied at length. 'Yet is that truly a cause for sorrow? I am now happier than I have ever been. Here in Menegroth lies our chance for joy. In time the grief will pass, for all is glad and mirthful here. We shall be merry once more!'

Thaliondil lifted his head, and turned his grey, piercing gaze to his sister. The shadow of a smile passed across his face. He hid his grief from her as well as he could, as he bade her farewell. He then once again departed from the bright halls of Menegroth, promising Tinuial faithfully that he would return by nightfall.

Elmarië ran lightly through the forest, her path winding amid the glowering trees. Her cheeks were flushed, and her hot breath billowed upon the frozen air, rising like a thin smoke about her. She now returned home, after her noon meeting with Nurram. The pale sun descended sadly, like a distant jewel wrenched from the sky by the compelling winds which tore mercilessly at the dismal grey earth. All was now arranged. She was to meet with Nurram beside the River at midnight, and they would flee together by secret paths that he alone knew. She wondered much that Nurram would tarry in Doriath so long, and feared that they would not escape pursuit, yet he had promised her wistfully that none would follow them. Elmarië was not now far from her home, and its dull, high roof came now into view in the distance – like a stone raft amid a sea of gloomy grey treetops. She would not be sorry to leave this place. Since she had returned, many of her kin had treated her with cold contempt, and little else. Her mother could scarcely look her in the eyes, and her father had been even less bearable than usual – he would not speak, save to bark abrupt orders or denunciations at any member of his family foolish enough to approach him. Elmarië's sisters were terrified of him when he was in such a mood, yet promptly held Elmarië to blame for his annoyance, as it was she who had defied him so. Her brother Imcair was the only one who might have defended her, for he loved her dearly; yet he could not be relied upon. Still he had not returned. Elmarië scowled frostily, and gritted her teeth as she sped swiftly through the maze of trees. How foolish she had been to even hope that her kin would welcome her with open arms, for she was a rebel – a disgrace. They would perhaps forgive her in time, if she were to do all they bade her, and feigned to be the gentle, sweet daughter they had seemingly always wished for. The injustice of it smote her heart like a spear of ice, that her own family would only accept her if she denied herself.

Without any warning, Elmarië ran headlong into the solid figure of a man, who stood like a phantom of stone amid the trees, staring into the heavens. He barely moved as she crashed into him, and slowly turned to face her.

'I am sorry,' she breathed hurriedly. 'I…' she broke off in surprise as she identified him. Thaliondil. 'What are you doing here?' She asked, a little rudely. He paused, and scrutinised her face coldly.

'Leave me alone,' he replied bluntly. She glared at him witheringly, inwardly overwhelmed by the sudden and turbulent urge to weep. Countless retorts echoed through her mind, yet she could not bring herself to fight, even with Thaliondil. She stood frozen before him, fighting the obstinate tears which clung like beads of silver dew to her blue eyes. It was as though her mask of frosty disdain was starting to crack. Her lip began to tremble. Cursing herself for such a display of weakness, she turned and shambled off into the shadows, as the tears began to fall.

Never had Elmarië felt such surprise, and curious relief, as when she felt a hand upon her shoulder. She knew it was Thaliondil. His touch was stern and warm, and seemed to draw the chill from her flesh. She turned slowly, and the grip of his fingers lessened. His hand dropped to his side.

'What is it?'' She demanded. Stringing three such simple words together had never seemed such a trying task.

'Forgive me,' he replied brokenly, 'if in the past I have treated you with little respect. You have done nothing to deserve my scorn, Lady.' Elmarië was entirely taken aback. Yet the hinted reverence, almost awe with which he enunciated the word Lady made rage suddenly return to her heart in full force. Her eyes blazed.

'I am no fool!' She cried. 'And not in the least do you regret your behaviour!'

'Do you doubt me?' He asked dangerously.

'Had you tried to make amends ere you discovered that I was a noble Lady of this Realm, I should not have doubted you,' she exclaimed, letting all her accumulated rage spill into her words. 'When you thought me an insignificant maiden you gave no thought to me, yet now you realise that with one word to the King I could have you banished, even killed!'

'I did not realise that merely disliking a foolish wench was punishable by death!' He retorted with his familiar venom.

'I am of the kin of Thingol!' she shouted, her eyes livid with anger and indignation. 'And whatever I were to accuse you of, my word would not be questioned!'

'I do not fear you, no matter how high you deem yourself.' His sharp eyes glinted.

'Whatever I may be, I am above you.' And the bitterness with which she regarded him almost made him flinch. Thaliondil felt his fury growing. All his wrath, sorrow and dreadful longing rose uncontrollably. He seized Elmarië's shoulders, drew her close, and violently kissed her. She did not resist, and her eyes slowly closed as their lips met. In that moment, that tiny, intense splinter of time, her heart and soul seemed to shift within her. Their petty arguments no longer mattered – the world itself seemed no longer there. Or else it had simply lost all significance. All that mattered was that beautiful, acute, soul-rending kiss.

'I'm sorry.' Thaliondil said sheepishly, backing away, and releasing her from his grasp. She gazed at him, stunned. Yet they were shocked out of deep, absolute silence by a sudden noise. A young elf maiden who stood only several paces from them cleared her throat, and eyed the two of them smugly. Both Thaliondil and Elmarië turned to her with a jolt. The girl had light golden hair like a feathery cloud about her small, sweet face, and her red lips were curled into a slight smile.

'Lheina!' Elmarië snapped. 'Be gone!'

'Father would not be pleased to learn of this,' Lheina's large blue eyes glittered as she regarded Thaliondil with patent interest.

'Be gone, I say!' Elmarië screamed at her sister.

'It would not bode well for you, if I were to betray this secret!' Lheina teased gleefully. In truth she had no intention of telling her father of what she had witnessed, yet the expression upon her sister's face was so amusing. Her eyes rested chiefly upon Thaliondil, however, who gazed at her still in quiet shock.

'Breathe a word of this, and you shall regret it!' Elmarië returned.

'As you wish, my dearest sister,' she declared sweetly. 'Yet you had best be wary. In the morning you are to wed Lord Culdir, in case you had forgotten, and I doubt he would take gladly to such - antics - as these.' Thaliondil turned to Elmarië with quiet horror upon his face. Elmarië winced. He did not know. He shook his head slightly, and pushed his black hair from his eyes, entirely at a loss. Elmarië wanted to tell him of her plan, her secret. Yet she could not disclose even the smallest snippet of information whilst Lheina stood there. Without bidding them farewell, Thaliondil turned abruptly and stalked off, his absence leaving a gaping chasm in Elmarië's heart, which no amount of tears could fill. She glared contemptuously at Lheina, focusing all her silent inner loathing upon her young sister. Lheina seemed not to notice, and stared unblinking at the empty space Thaliondil had left.