A/N: Readers be warned, this chapter ends on a cliffhanger.

Disclaimer: Still not mine.

Summary: Brinya learns about Balinor's enemies from Bard and we learn some disturbing truths about our favorite elven king.

Chapter 6: Army of Darkness

Brinya looked around the banquet hall nervously. She wasn't used to meeting new people. Thranduil had offered to introduce her to the master of Lake-Town, Bard. Speaking to him would be her best chance of hearing news from Balinor. She was desperate for news of her father's campaign against the Northern bandits, but sometimes no news was good news. Surely, if some tragedy had befallen the king or his guard, word would have reached her. Wine and music were flowing as dinner was winding down. Thranduil caught Brinya's eye and motioned her over to him.

"You seem to have quite captured his attention," Anoria commented.

Brinya blushed and mumbled that she would be back shortly. She still hadn't told her sister the true nature of her relationship with the elven king. She felt guilty for keeping secrets from her, but she also felt protective of the only real secret she had ever had. She was still confident that their courtship would come to naught and she wanted the memory of it to be hers alone.

Brinya pushed her way through the crowd of men and elves as demurely as she could. She wanted to make a good impression on Bard and she didn't want to look rude in front of Thranduil. He laid his hand on her shoulder for a trifle longer than was necessary when he introduced her to Lake-Town's master. It sent a subtle, but clear message to Bard. She's mine. Bard seemed nervous, but polite and he was happy to tell her everything he knew about Balinor and its conflict.

"They say the Bandits are growing bolder," Bard said with a scowl. "King Stephen is having a hard time pushing them back beyond his borders. At first, they were only attacking outlying villages, the ones that were too remote for reinforcement to arrive quickly. Now they're hitting some larger towns, closer to Balinor's core. King Stephen is mustering a standing army. I hope he marches in before the worst comes."

Brinya felt her heart constrict in her chest, "What does that mean?" she asked. "What is the worst?"

Bard looked nervously at Thranduil, silently asking how much he should share with her. Thranduil nodded and Brinya glowered. Why was he in control of how much information she received? This was her home and her family. She should be privy to every available piece of intelligence on how they were doing. She would speak to Thranduil about it later.

"No doubt you've heard the stories about strange happenings after the bandits ransack a village. It's not just the property they destroy. It's the people. Anyone who has the misfortune to meet them face to face comes away a different person. It's like their best qualities are burned out of them. The changes are subtle at first. Maybe someone who used to be patient is quick to anger. Someone who used to love music can't stand the sound. Slowly, the changes get more pronounced. Eventually, all the qualities that used to make someone human are erased. The things that are left have no compassion, no mercy, and no love. They cease to feel pain, which makes them hard to subdue. They can still be killed, but that's a hard thing to ask of farmers. These people have lived in the same communities for generations. Everyone knows everything about everyone else. It's like asking brother to kill brother. Often, the afflicted wreak a fair bit of damage before one of their own puts them down."

Brinya shuddered, "Puts them down? They are not dogs."

Bard gazed at her sympathetically, "No, they're not, but neither are they men. As the affliction worsens, a person stops eating, stops sleeping, stops speaking. They waste away until there's only a shadow left."

"That's a good thing, isn't it?" Brinya ventured timidly, "Shadows can't hurt anything."

Bard shook his head sadly, "These shadows can."

Brinya felt a buzzing in her head and bile rising in her throat. This was worse than anything she could have imagined. She forced herself to remain calm outwardly and to ask another question. She owed to her sister and herself to learn as much from him as she could. She didn't know when she would get another opportunity. "What about the bandits," she asked, "You speak only of the villagers they infect. Are they these same shadow creatures?"

Bard shrugged his broad shoulders, "We know next to nothing of the bandits themselves. Few who have seen them have lived to tell the tale and those that have spiraled quickly into madness. Their minds cannot be trusted."

Brinya glanced worriedly over at her sister's table, feeling like she had been away a long time and wondering how much of this conversation she should share with her. The table was empty. Anoria and her attendants must have retired for the evening.

Sensing her anxiety, Thranduil put his arm around her shoulders and indicated that she was free to go. Brinya nodded gravely at Bard and said, "Thank you so much for sharing what you know with me. As frightening as it was to hear, it is always better to know than to remain ignorant. I'll send word to my father and make sure he has all this information."

Bard managed a small bow and said, "It was a pleasure meeting you, Princess Brinya." Brinya was about to tell him that she wasn't a princess, but Thranduil hurried her away. His agitation was almost as palpable as her own. She doubted that this was what he meant when he said he wanted her to make him feel again. Suddenly she dug her heels into the floor to draw his rapid pace to a halt. Why was he so anxious? He wasn't a close friend of her father's. There was no way he was that worked about her family's welfare. He knew something else and he wasn't sharing.

"What do you know?" she demanded. Worry had dulled her sense of propriety. Diplomacy be damned. She needed to know what he knew. For a moment he was silent as he tried to decide between a lie that would let her sleep tonight and the ugly truth that would probably keep her awake until she had grandchildren.

"Please," she said softly, "Any information could be the key to helping my people. You mustn't be afraid that telling me something will upset me. My duty to my people comes first. I shall write to my father immediately. He may not know what he's up against."

Thranduil smiled a sad smile that didn't reach his eyes and reached out to stroke her cheek, "You are a princess by attitude if not by birth. I will tell you what I know. Forgive me." He dropped his hand and she felt like they were separated by a chasm a hundred feet wide instead of by a few inches of air. It was like he pulled away from her in spirit as well as form. "Do you know what is worse than death for an elf?"

She shook her head, "I've heard that some of your kind sail west when they feel this life no longer holds any joy."

He smiled his sad smile again and said, "My father, Oropher, sailed for the eternal lands many eons ago. The Eldar understand that there is more to death than the end of the physical life. We live so long and grow so weary that sometimes our minds are ready for eternal rest before our bodies. That is when we sail."

She waited for him to continue. This was interesting, but it had nothing to do with what was happening to her home.

"Do you know what happens to us when we should sail and do not? We fade. Do not mistake me. We do not fade into nothing, into empty space. We fade into darkness, into shadow. We do not cease to be. We become shadows of what we were."

Brinya inhaled sharply. She hadn't fully understood what Bard had been trying to tell her until now. Now she knew what he meant when he'd described shadows who could hurt people.

"Wraiths," she whispered, "You fade into wraiths. That was why you wanted me to make you feel again. You felt like you were fading and you knew what you would become if you didn't sail."

She looked at him with revulsion, "You bastard. You didn't care about getting to know me. You just cared about not turning into a soul sucking ghost. You stay away from me."

He reached for her and she flinched away from him. "Brinya, please," he loathed the note of pleading in his voice, but he couldn't lose her. He would beg if he had to. "It wasn't like that. I do want to get to know you. I care about you. Don't you understand? It had to be you."

"Why? Why couldn't it have been someone else?"

"Because you are the only one who makes me feel. No one else drives to exasperation or anxiety or love. No one else arouses any kind of emotional response in me. I only feel for you." He waited for a moment to see if his words had the desired affect and then without warning he pulled her close. It had been millennia since he had kissed anyone. The Eldar regarded physical affection as an act of intimacy and they treated it with appropriate seriousness.

As he kissed her he felt what he imagined was strangely human. There was desire. He immediately recognized that emotion. When was the last time he had desired a woman? He couldn't remember. The other feeling was deeper and darker and it took him some time to uncover it. It was the urge to subdue her, to bend her to his will. It was the desire for dominance in spirit as well as flesh. Sometimes kissing was also the best way of silencing. Involuntarily he thought about the ruined flesh on the right side of his face. He was mostly able to keep the old injury hidden by a strong force of will and magic. Sometimes, when he was very tired or very distracted emotionally, it could become visible. Although he had told her he was in danger of becoming a wraith, she had no idea how close he really was. He wondered if she would ever willingly kiss him again if she saw his true form. He doubted it.