Elrond stretched and opened his eyes. The new sun had not yet risen in the sky. Even Elrond's keen eyes could only see the soft silhouettes of the furniture in his room. "My room!" Joy flowed through him at that thought. He realized that he truly felt at home here now. He felt that he really belonged. Last night was simply marvelous. It shone perfect in his memory. He did not know how long he had danced with the Lady Galadriel until she had taken a break to spend time with her husband. To his surprise, a young elleth approached him and pulled him back into the dance. In his joy, he danced until he found himself partnered with a smiling Laeste, who after a final spin around the circle, had led him from the dance and back to his room, bidding him a goodnight. He sighed in contentment at the memories. Only then was he aware of a slight weight on his chest. A white fuzzy ball was snuggled on top of him. As he stirred to inspect it more closely, it moved and purred.

"Selig," he said happily. "What a pleasant surprise, beautiful one." She purred more loudly and wiggled up to perch by Elrond's neck. He stroked her gently, scratching the spot behind her ear that she so enjoyed. After awhile, the sky began to lighten.

"Well, Selig, I'm going to go for my morning jog. You are welcome to sleep here for awhile." The cat purred in agreement and snuggled into the warm spot that the elfling had vacated.

Elrond pulled on an old tunic and leggings for his jog and headed outside. The sun had only just risen, and the air was chill and fresh. Fine dew coated the leaves and flowers. The garden was quiet save for the gently song of the trees. Elrond sung a greeting in response then stretched and proceeded to do his calisthenics. Chairs and tables surrounded the area of the garden where last night's celebration had taken place.

Elrond jogged through the garden, down past the house of healing and through the training area. He was surprised that he met no others along the way. Perhaps most elves had celebrated through the night. He continued across the long practice fields and a short distance through the trees down to the gate that led into town. Two guards waved to him as he crossed the security point and headed through town in the direction of the havens. Few stores were open and no one was visible on the street. An uneasy feeling came over him at the emptiness and remembering Cirdan's words, he turned back towards the palace, happy to see the guards as he cross back onto the palace grounds. He had just traversed the row of trees and emerged onto the practice fields when his senses screamed in warning. Someone was tracking him. He was suddenly aware that he was unarmed and vulnerable. He increased his pace slightly, not wanting to alert the hunter that he was aware of his presence. He headed towards the training grounds and focused on reaching the weapons room. If he had a sword, he could at least defend himself. He could feel his tracker increase his pace to match his, but he dared not turn around, for if the warnings of the trees were correct, the elf behind him was armed and intent on killing him. His heart sank as he approached the training ground and found that it was deserted. He rushed into the weapons storehouse and pulled a sword from the wall. He felt the elf directly behind him and only just turned in time to meet the sword that descended. It was clear that his attacker had intended to deal him a mortal blow. Their swords clashed again. Elrond realized that in within the confined storeroom he was at a serious disadvantage. Most serious was the fact that no one would see or hear them inside. His opponent was dark and tall and his eyes gleamed with hatred. It was not anyone that Elrond recognized. His opponent thrust his sword towards Elrond's right side as Elrond spun and ducking underneath made a dash for the door. Elrond bit back a cry as the blade struck him partway down his right side, catching against his ribs. He felt the blood run down his shirt, but he did not stop to check. Instead, he sprinted out into the open field where he might be able to find help. His attacker rushed up behind him. Spinning on his heel, Elrond immediately lifted his sword in time to block another jarring blow.

"Why do you seek to kill me?" Elrond questioned willing calm to his voice. If he could buy himself some time, if he could withstand the blows of this seasoned warrior for but a little while, help might arrive.

"Seek? I will succeed in a few minutes, you cur. You are a freak of nature. I thought I had killed you already." The Elf's eyes glistened ominously as he inflicted a sharp cut to the edge of the Peredhel's blade seeking to disarm and quickly finish the youth.

Elrond sent a silent prayer to Elbereth for strength. He was thankful that he had been sparring frequently and had developed a little more muscle since his bout with Cirdan. The Elf before him was strong and quick, not quite as strong as the Mariner but then again, the Mariner had not been aiming to kill him. In strength, he was at a distinct disadvantage. He forced himself to concentrate solely on the warrior before him, trying to discern his cadence and gain any advantage possible. Elrond was able to anticipate the next thrust, side stepping it and then blocked a blow directed at his injured right side. He spun quickly to his left in a diagonal attack slipped his blade underneath his opponent drawing a shallow line across the others chest. The elf hissed in disgust and immediately caught Elrond with a glancing blow on his left arm.

"Peredhel, I will play with you no longer." He hissed in rage. "Your kind should never have been allowed to live. Your kind caused the destruction of both Doriath and Sirion."

"I was but ten when Sirion fell. I could not have caused anything." Elrond shifted his weight and altered his rhythm in an attempt to confuse his attacker. He parried another series of blows drawing on complex defensive maneuvers that Maglor had taught him. For the first time, his strength was enough to ward off the full-force blows of a grown elf. But the blood seeping down his arm and along his side was slowly taxing his strength. The rapid movements were tearing at the wound. He pushed aside the pain and pictured Maehdros rearing in one of the strikes that he had fallen under years ago in Amon Ereb and instinctively, he imitated the moves, driving his sword into the others chest. The wound wasn't deep and somehow only seemed to enrage his attacker.

Xxxxxx

It was still dark when Cirdan entered the palace grounds. He had a nagging worry that interrupted his sleep and he wanted to check if the guards had discovered any connections between the newcomers and Amon Ereb. At the main guardhouse, five of the King's elite guards stood engaged in an animated discussion that quickly dissipated upon the entrance of Lord Cirdan.

"Good morning, Lord Cirdan." Cirulian bowed in greeting.

"Has anyone entered the city who might have ties to Amon Ereb or the Fëanorians?" Cirdan asked directly. Cirulian, who sincerely regretted his actions at the first meeting with the Elfling, had taken it upon himself to look out for the young one's well being.

"I have checked and there is no one who is directly related to the Fëanorians, though a scout, Sarniel, had been to Amon Ereb. The scout had returned to Mithlond a week ago. Sarniel had most recently been assigned to a three month patrol in western Beleriand. But he was skilled spy and several times had infiltrated the Fëanorians while the twins were captive." Cirdan heart jumped in worry at that news.

"Where is Sarniel now?" He demanded trying to recall the elf. He remembered that this warrior was a survivor of Doriath and would be known to Celeborn.

"We are trying to locate him. He did not return to his house in the Havens last night." Cirulian said, pausing. "We sent a message to the captain of his patrol, but it is early, and many were celebrating the solstice until the wee hours."

"Cirulian and Durgin accompany me." Cirdan directed roughly strapping on his sword. "We will check on Elrond. He usually wakes early and jogs down to the Havens and back. The rest of you alert the guards at the security checks that Sarniel is to be brought to me for questioning. If you find him hold him here in the guardhouse." The Mariner paused briefly considering the elfling's whereabouts. "If anyone comes across Elrond, have them explain our suspicions. Escort him back to the palace." Cirdan then turned and quickly crossed back towards the family wing.

As expected, Elrond's room was empty. Cirdan hurried out towards through the gardens hoping to intercept the elfling upon his return from the jog. He was startled to find a well-armed Celeborn striding determinedly towards him.

"Galadriel saw danger." He said by way of explanation. They quickly strode towards the training fields increasing their pace as they heard the distinct clash of swords. Reaching the field, they saw Elrond and Sarniel locked in mortal combat. Both elves were bloody, but Celeborn could perceive that Sarniel, the seasoned warrior held the advantage as the wound to Elrond's side bled profusely. They crept closer not willing to draw Sarniel's attention nor distract Elrond. Cirdan drew a dagger from his boot, and in an expert throw sent it plunging into the shoulder of Sarniel's sword arm. The elf cried out in shock. Elrond took advantage of the situation and in one swift motion derobed him, sending Sarniel's sword flying off to the left. Celeborn swiftly overpowered the elf, pinning him to the ground away from Elrond while Cirdan ran over to Elrond to assess his wounds. The blood flow from wound to his side required immediate attention lest the elf bleed to death on the training field. There was also a shallow cut on his arm that had stain his sleeve crimson.

"I am sorry we did not arrive sooner." Cirdan guided Elrond to sitting position. Cirulian appeared with bandages.

"You were in time." Elrond panted. "I feared that you might not be." The blood loss was beginning to affect his vision, and he closed his eyes for a moment. Cirdan tied the bandage tightly around the wound on Elrond's side then lifted him.

"I can walk." The Elfling protested weakly.

"I think not, young one." Cirdan chided. "Noenri would have my head if I did not promptly deliver you to his care." He felt Elrond relax in his arms as the adrenaline from the duel dissipated. Moments later, the Elfling went limp, slipping into unconsciousness. Cirdan strode quickly towards the house of healing only realizing halfway that Celeborn was walking beside him.

"The youth is amazingly skilled with the sword." Celeborn noted. "I have sparred with Sarniel before and know that he is an expert swordsman."

"I am thankful that Elrond is so skilled otherwise we would have lost him this morning." Cirdan said solemnly. "As it was, he could not have held out much longer." Cirdan sighed. He realized how close they had come to losing this precious child who in just a few months had succeeded in capturing their hearts. They brought Elrond directly into the surgery. Silsilalda, a junior healer, prepared his wounds while others left to summon Noenri. Once again, this young elf had faced down a fierce adversary. Cirdan looked one more time at the prone figure, before Noenri entered and ushered him out.

"Go Lord Cirdan. I will take care of the young one." Noenri directed. "Go wash yourself."

Cirdan walked towards the sink in the next room and looked down at the red blood on his hands and tunic. It was Elrond's blood. Yet again, he had been unable to protect one that he loved. Celeborn handed him the soap, eyeing him carefully. Cirdan watched as the red turned to pink and finally the color was cleansed from his hands. He prayed that this was one of those times that his friends would be spared. How many times in his long life had he lived such a scene? Celeborn handed him a towel. They both looked up as Cirulian and Durgin entered with a bloodied Sarniel. The elf met Cirdan's eyes defiantly.

"If he dies then I have completed the task that I could not accomplished with poison." He snarled. His eyes exuded hatred. "Those peredhil are abominations, unnatural freaks. They do not deserve to exist."

"You have failed. The young one will live." He said steadily. "You will pay for your crimes."

"I am not alone in my views." Sarniel challenged, his hands secured behind him. "There are but two peredhil left. This stain on Elf purity can be easily purged now before it is too late."

"Those views are not tolerated in Mithlond. You will answer for your crimes in front of the High King." Cirdan said turning from the elf. He signaled for Durgin to lead the elf away.

"Cirulian, he can be treated here for his wounds but transfer him to the house of healing at the Havens before nightfall. Once the healers agree, I want him placed in a secure holding cell. Make sure that he is well guarded at all times." Cirulian nodded in acknowledgement and turned to follow Durgin.