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The Quest Continues...
Frodo and Sam have destroyed the ring, Sauron is defeated, evil has been overcome. Right?
Perhaps. That however, is beside the point. Aragorn, Legolas and co. are coming back for the sequel, and this time, we're in charge. Please feel free to read and participate. (Note-the beginnings of the story are actually in the archives. It's reverse order- archive 1 is the most recent. Confusing, I know.)

To join, please visit the Quest website, where all necessary details can be found. From here you can also access the rules and character lists, view the story so far, and much, much more. (Ok, a little bit more).
N.B. The rules etc. are being constantly updated, so you should check back every now and again.

To skip straight to the bottom of the page, click here.

To talk with other writers, visit The Quest Soapbox. Alternatively, go read The Extended Adventures of Gimli for an, errrm, less serious spoof.

Important announcement: On August 3rd, Quest was picked up by Gamejag, a gaming and writings group. We can now be found on www.gamejag.com, in the Middle Earth forum.

This site is a member of WebRing. To browse visit here.
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Subject: Mistake


Author:
Madjael & Anawiel
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Date Posted: 22:07:12 06/14/02 Fri
He leaned back against the wall, head in hands. Namun had struck something in him, deep down. It wasn't an emotion's exactly, more a realisation. Rumours spread fast amoung men. Rumours of war in the north, men, women and children slaughtered. Like animals. That's all men were to orcs - animals.
He felt a soft hand on his shoulder. It soothed his shoulder and stroaked the nape of his neck like winter's first snowflakes. Madjael looked up, directly into Anawiel's green catlike eyes. The fire of her soul seemed to burn deep into her pupils, that now were cooler and full of concern. He often wondered why no one ever guessed she was a witch. Her eyes betrayed her.
"Are you alright? Your mother got called away."
"I just..." Madjael tried to speak, but there were too many words. "I don't know. It's not Namun. I am over her. I had my closure long ago, but," He faltered again, "Everytime I see her, talk to her, something just tears inside."
Anawiel slipped her arm through his and began to lead him towards the city centre.

The tavern was loud with the chatter of voices and laughter every few seconds from various clusters of people. Anawiel sat near a group of fiddlers, their music drowned out by the noise around them. A fight broke out at the next table, nearly knocking Madjael over. He came over to their table and passed a large tankard of ale to her. She was sitting between Delisa and Téril. Anawiel had a feeling that if she wasn't then Téril may never have children. She raised the wooden pint to her mouth. The ale still warm from the pump ran down her throat.

The fighters at the next table were soon thrown out and a few extremely drunk people had begun to dance to the fiddle music, including Delisa and Téril. She and Madjael sat in silence watching the dancers. Neither of them spoke a word until Madjael stood up suddenley.
"Shall we go now? You may have trouble getting back into you quarters if you roll in before you're afternoon shift with mother." Without waiting for an answer he left through the huge oaken door.

Anawiel hurried after him. The afternoon sun cast his shadow across the cobbles. When he heard her coming he stopped, waiting arms folded. Anawiel watched Madjael's face carefully. His expression was unreadable.

They reached Madjael's room first. They both stopped, and looked at each other nearly subconsiously.
"I shall see you later then?" Anawiel asked it merely to break the silence. He nodded, and she turned to leave.

Madjael nearly let her go then. In a split second his arm shot out, grabbing her slender wrist. Anawiel turned around, puzzled. He drew her towards him gently, but firm and demanding. Of course she knew what he was about to do, but she never tried to stop him.


Even as his mouth brushed her's.His lips were warm and sweet. Anawiel felt herself relax in his arms before she knew what was happening. She deepened the kiss, pulling him closer to her, feeling his heart beating so fast against her own.
Madjael reached for the door handle and pulled Anawiel inside, dragging at the bodice of her gown and runnign his fingers through her hair.
Anawiel wasn't thinking. Part of her wanted to push Madjael away, to tell him it was wrong, they were friends and nothing more. But part of her yearned to feel the heat of someone else's body against hers again. To be free to feel whatever she wanted to feel.
Madjael pushed her back onto the low bed and the world seemed to fall away.
Subject: Distinctively Annoyed


Author:
Faramir
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Date Posted: 18:19:28 06/15/02 Sat
Faramir couldn't help glaring at the King's back as the lead the way down to the prison. It was a little way out of the palace, but so far, neither man had spoken.

Faramir was not only distinctively annoyed at Elessar, but also rather embarrassed. It was only to clear from the look on his face when Faramir had left his room, that the King had know exactly what had been going on. Not that there was anything for him to feel guilty about. Eowyn was hs wife, and he loved her more than anything. However, there was, and always would be with the King, a kind of block between them. He was like his father. Old enough to be as well...He though.

The pair continued down another flight of stone steps, to the very bottom of the prison. Turning, suddenly realising that appart from a very biased and dramatic account from the King of the attack, he knew nothing about the events. "Excuse me, but what exactly are we aiming to find out?"
Subject: A Visitor


Author:
Eowyn
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Date Posted: 21:07:21 06/15/02 Sat
Eowyn sat down heavily in a chair and sighed, the faint hints of a smile still pulling at the corners of her lips. A timid knock on the door was followed by her maid questionly calling "Ma'am?".
"What is it, Arhal?" the Stewardess asked impatiently.
"His Majesty, King Eomer arrived a few hours ago ma'am. He is currently residing in the State Apartments of the South Tower, awaiting your prescence."
Here was here? Already? Eowyn had been expecting a visit from her brother, but not for several days yet.
Suddenly, she became a little nervous. It had been so long since they last met. Eomer had a wife who she barely knew and a son, her nephew, who she had never met. No doubt Eomer had told stories of her, exaggerating in every way until she had become a heroic maiden of perfect beauty and grace. It would be a lot to live up to, but if need be, then that would be who she was.
"Thank you, Arhal. Please notify his Highness that I am on my way and will be with him shortly."
Subject: Task


Author:
Brooke
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Date Posted: 21:47:50 06/15/02 Sat
Her task was to cause as much trouble in Minas Tirith as possible so that when The dark lord returned they would be caught of guard. She smiled. This was goin to be fun and way to easy. She had gone to Minas Tirith once and it seemed that the years of peace had done their job. Now all she had to do is help it along. She didn't care who was goin to win the up coming war it was all the same to her. She stared at the city from the woods. As far as she was concerned the only hard part of her task was getting started. It was too bad that the elven cowards were running away. She would have liked to make their lives as miserable as possible. Every time danger was on the horizon they would go into their woods and wait for the danger to pass. At least that's what her mother had told her. And as far as she was concerned her mother was quite right. 'I hope some of them get what they desserve in this war'she thought,'let's see how they like being the last of their kind.' "I can not believe you took this job. The dark lord wishes to conquer middle earth and cover it in darkness and you are going to help him along" said her second counssious wich was her partner whitemoon. He was a white wolf and also the last of his kind. He had promised her mother he would look after her. He was wise being much older than her. He always helped her but sometimes he would complain about her jobs depending on what they were. "Look it's to late to turn back. Besides this sounds like fun so stop arguing." "don't say i didn't warn you." Whitemoon said as they started walking towards the city.
Subject: Task


Author:
Brooke
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Date Posted: 21:50:11 06/15/02 Sat
Her task was to cause as much trouble in Minas Tirith as possible so that when The dark lord returned they would be caught of guard. She smiled. This was goin to be fun and way to easy. She had gone to Minas Tirith once and it seemed that the years of peace had done their job. Now all she had to do is help it along. She didn't care who was goin to win the up coming war it was all the same to her. She stared at the city from the woods. As far as she was concerned the only hard part of her task was getting started. It was too bad that the elven cowards were running away. She would have liked to make their lives as miserable as possible. Every time danger was on the horizon they would go into their woods and wait for the danger to pass. At least that's what her mother had told her. And as far as she was concerned her mother was quite right. 'I hope some of them get what they desserve in this war'she thought,'let's see how they like being the last of their kind.' "I can not believe you took this job. The dark lord wishes to conquer middle earth and cover it in darkness and you are going to help him along" said her second counssious wich was her partner whitemoon. He was a white wolf and also the last of his kind. He had promised her mother he would look after her. He was wise being much older than her. He always helped her but sometimes he would complain about her jobs depending on what they were. "Look it's to late to turn back. Besides this sounds like fun so stop arguing." "Don't say i didn't warn you." Whitemoon said as they started walking towards the city.
Subject: Viewing the City


Author:
Alator
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Date Posted: 22:17:07 06/15/02 Sat
Alator stood on the edge of the rocky cliff, one of many from the mountains which overlooked the great white city of Minas Tirith.

It had changed so much since the last time he had been here. Whether it was for good or ill, he was not sure. Yet now the city had a King again. Soon, it would have an heir, although he doubted if anyone but Elessar even knew about it.

It was not out of choice that Alator came here. Obligation. Something was happening, or going to. The elves were feeling it too, the handful remaining on Middle- Earth. Even then, with the onset of danger, and other things, who knew if there would be more elven blood spilt?

It had been too long since he had been to Minas Tirith, and he knew any men here with any recollection of him were long dead. Men were unpredictable, they could be stirred into a rage, or flattened to emotional ruin.

His midnight blue robe flowing behind him in the wind, and resting slightly on his beech staff, the old wizard decended and began the walk to the gates.
Subject: Friendly combat


Author:
Keth
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Date Posted: 15:04:44 06/16/02 Sun
Keth was bored. With the coming of winter, he could no longer ride as often as he wished, nor, when rain beat down on the ground and icy winds penetrated even the warmest clothing, could the men train easily. He disliked the period of activity while trees slept and animals hibernated almost as much as many men welcomed it.
Today though, the weather was fine, and warriors had gathered about the lists, searching to banish the chill caused by enforced idleness from their muscles. His own body already tingling in the cold from the warmth generated by a series of gruelling exercises and warm-ups, he re-attached the sheath housing his long-sword to his waist and strolled over to join the cluster watching Merriam battle Daim. It was already clear that Daim was going to lose- Merriam was older, more experienced and stronger- but at the moment, both were going strong.

...Merrian’s blunted sword swept down in a twisted cut, to be met with a crash by Daim’s hanging guard parry, followed by a sharp riposte. Merriam had to swing his blade round quickly to meet the strike, catching him off guard. In a flash, Daim’s weapon twisted, changing direction into an upper cut that narrowly missed his opponent’s hooked nose. Unmet by any sword, the momentum of the attack continued propelling the blade forwards. In that moment that Daim overreached himself, Merriam executed a crisp crosscut, catching the weapon just under the hilt, and sending it spinning to the ground.

“And the victory goes to Merriam!” bellowed Sircyn, who was presiding over the match, from the sidelines. Grinning, Merriam raised one arm in salute, before clasping hands with his vanquished combatant.
“Any more takers to battle the current champion?”
“I'll have a go!” called Keth, grinning broadly and feeling his blood rise at the suggestion of a battle, an escape from his current boredom.”
“Merriam do you accept the challenger?”
“I do.”
“Keth, you know the rules. Blunted weapons, and you wear padding. You’re fighting to disarm only. Do you understand that this time?”
He grinned ruefully, remembering his last fight, when the battle-rage had been too strong in him, and he’d continued to the point of drawing blood. “Yes.”
He strapped on the protective gear and climbed into the arena, accepting the blunted sword from a chastened Daim.
“Will the combatants assume the guard position!”

Winking at Merriam, Keth turned his body side on, knees slightly bent and sword raised. At Sircyn’s command, both men swung round, their swords meeting with a resounding crash…
Subject: Breaking


Author:
Vomyr
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Date Posted: 21:44:32 06/16/02 Sun
Concealed by the delicate branches of one of the the palaces hedges, Vomyr watched the scene before him play out. The two were talking softly in a language he did not recognise instantly but guessed must be some form of elvish.

Lómódë's back was to him and in the morning sun he could see her hair glinting as she shock her head in responce to something the prince has said. The blond elf turned his head and for a moment Vomyr thought he had been spotted. Panicked, he crouched lower into the darkness.

The light wind died; the leaves stopped rustling and Vomyr heard the elf's next words clearly. “So what’s Quenya for ‘I can’t stop thinking about you’?” So the cold elven warrior was under her spell as well. He felt the rage building. It was only to be expected after all. Why settle for a valet when you could have a prince? The pieces all fit.

They were laughing now. At him? He couldn't tell.

Trying to disturbe as few branches as possible Vomyr picked his way out of the bushes and edged out of the training grounds.

Two months of watching her had not availed him in his fight to banish her from his thoughts. Rather she dwelt there always, tormenting every waking moment. He would have to try something else and soon.
Subject: The aim


Author:
Aragorn
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Date Posted: 17:24:02 06/17/02 Mon
"The aim of our visit?" Aragorn walked back towards the bottom of the stairs where Faramir still lingered. "Why the aim is to find out who is trying to kill me. Surely you think that is a matter worthy of our time?"

Without waiting for an answer he turned and walked through the bowls of the dungeons towards the heavy oak door that signified the entrance to the cells. The air down here was cold as winter's first kiss. The tiny fire the guards were huddled round did nothing to disguise this, rather it lit the walls just enough so that every man's shadow became a demon.

Wrapping his arms around himself Aragorn shivered, but not due to the cold. "Why have I never been down here before," he whispered to Faramir who had joined him.
Something brushed past his ankle. Looking down the king saw it was a rat. He shuddered, repulsed and flicked his leg out sending it wimpering into the hole it had come from.
"People live here?"
"Some of 'em, sire," came the reply from one of the soldiers. "Most die. It's not exactly high class livin' if yer know what I mean."
Aragorn nodded dumbly.
"Yer wanted something yer majesty?"
"Would it be alright if the Lord Steward and I talked so some of the prisoners."
"O' course sire."
"Thankyou and get someone to bring you some more coal for down here."
"Thank-ye kindly."
"It is really I who should thank you," he muttered quietly. "Or rather beg for your forgiveness."
Subject: The gardens


Author:
Rhylin
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Date Posted: 22:24:03 06/17/02 Mon
The fiery leaves crackled under his leather shod feet as Rhylin picked his way carefully through the palace gardens. The day smelled fresh and inviting and the faery suppressed the urge to take to the sky and swoop through the golden rain of autumn foliage: It would not be seemly, he reminded himself grimly. It is unfair to fly before those who cannot. He smiled fleetingly at a gardener who was hoeing a flower bed. The man did not smile back as he returned to his his work.

A bird hovered near him and Rhylin held out his hand for the small animal to land on. Gentally he carressed its downy mid-drift. "Shouldn't you have left by now?" he asked politly so as not to offend it "Autumn's almost over. All the food will be gone soon." The bird ruffled its feathers indignantly and the dark haired faery laughed. "Yes, I know you know what season it is. It was just a suggestion." The bird cheeped and flew off into a clear sky which was the same colour as her eyes Rhylin thought blissfully.

Laeriel.

If someone had asked him but five hours ago what would make him the happiest being ever he would have answered instantly: being near her. Now he knew the truth: Being with her.

The faery moved quickly across the lawn towards their arranged meeting point.

He was just meters away when he heard the scream.
Subject: Making Trouble


Author:
Brooke
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Date Posted: 23:06:13 06/17/02 Mon
She stared at what she supposed was the training grounds from high above a building. " I was thinking maybe i should set fire to a building. But i think i might just set fire to this place. What do you think whitemoon?" brooke asked her companion.
" As long as no one gets hurt you can do what ever you want." " Where's the fun in that. There must be sacrifices made in my kind of job. So for now let's just say as long as no one get's killed. Is that alright with you?"
Whitemoon was silent for a minute then sighted and said "Very well as long as no one dies you may do it. Just try to keep from hurting little ones. They have nothing to do with your job."

" Your such a sentimental fool.But very well for now i will try to keep children from this. Although how long i can keep it up i'm not sure. After all i am helping the dark lord keep this city from being ready to fight him when he finally comes." Whitemoon sighted. " I know but at least your doing it for a very high price. Although I know you don't need the money."

" Hey my skills are hard to come by. I can't just do the job for free. But if it makes you feel better i'll give half of it to some children charity or something. Will that keep you from complaining so much?" she asked.

Whitemoon was silent for a moment thinking. "Very well" he finally said. " And i won't let you forget." " I know you won't. Now where would it be best to start a fire."
Brooke looked down at the training grounds. Sudenly two figures caught her interest. Anyone else that looked at them from this distance would not even stop to consider them. But she had very good eyesight and just by looking at them she could tell what they were. An evil smile spread over her face.

" Look what i've found whitemoon. Two of those elven cowards. My day is going so good. And i'm going to make their day so misserable. And here i thought they were all gone. Exacly what they are doing away from their preety woods i don't know but i'm going to make them regret the day they left them. So let the fun begin."

Brooke spread her wings making sure she had her illusion in place so that no one could see her. She silently glided towards the ground.
Whitemoon watched brooke glide down into the shadows. He stretched and settled down for a rest. At least until brooke broke it. He sometimes wondered why he stayed with her. But he knew the answer. To his eyes she was still a child. The little girl he had promised to protect and watch. In the years after her mothers death he had tried to teach her that the elves where not to blame for the death of her people. But it had been hopeless. The hate for the elves had already taken root in her heart. Perhaps in a way they where to blame. But not so much as wanting to make their race dissapear from the face of the earth by killing them. That's the only thing he had been succesful at teaching her. But now when she did not have any jobs to do she would search for them and make their lives as misserable as possible. He did feel very sorry for this elves and any others that migt be around. Especialy now that she had been given a new weapon from the dark lord. At sight it was only another bow. But the truth was that once in possition of firing an arrow of fire would appear, and since it was magical fire it was easy to spread and hard to put out. He truly pitied the elves.
Brooke let the arrow fly. It hit right in front of the elves and started spreading around them. Brooke had no time to see their expressions. she quickly made her way to another part of the training grounds and did the same thing.She kept on going from one place of the training grounds to another until she made sure that all exits were blocked. She watched as then the fire spread into the ring of fire.
' Someones definetly going to get hurt. Hopefully it will be those elves. I wonder if there are anymore around?' she thought as she flew back to where whitemoon was. ' Hopefully there are.' Whitemoon looked at her once she let her illusion drop. He shook his head refusing to say anything. " Now that that's done let's go set the building on fire. I found one that will do perfectly." she spread her wings and started flying towards it. Whitemoon followed by jumping fron building to building.

She let the arrow fly and watched as the building idmediatly caught fire. The building was close to the place where she was sure the king lived.

" Let's find a place where we can watch the fun. I'd like to see how this humans and any other races deal with two magical fires."

" You realize that they will find out sooner if not later that the fire was magicaly made." Whitemoon said. " So what. That won't stop me from doing it again. And it's not like they know who is doing it so they are at the moment quite hepless"
" Do not underestimate your opponents brooke." " Don't worry i won't. I know better than to do that. And i have been taught by the best." " And i've taught you all i know" Whitemoon said with pride. Brooke smiled and headed for a higher place making sure to keep her illusion around her and whitemoon.
Subject: A Sowly Twisting Knife


Author:
Laeriel
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Date Posted: 04:20:06 06/18/02 Tue
The late morning sunlight filtered through the leaves of the tree under which Laeriel was sitting. The soft breeze rustled the trees and a few leaves fell onto Laeriel's brow. She payed them no heed, however, for she had more important things to worry about. For many minutes, now, she had been getting this queer feeling. It started in the tip of her toes, and crept it's way slowly up her body, finally ending in a splitting headache. Her head throbbed so terribly that it made her stomach queasy.

She wanted to go and find Rhylin, but she feared if she stood up she would feint. She knew he should be coming soon, so she just decided to wait. Now, though, her head swam and she felt nauseous. She was thinking she should go look for help, but just as she began to rise something hit her. She knew not what, it was like a flash of light, filled with whispering voices. She fell back against the trunk of the tree, her heart pounding. She felt as if she was loosing control of her mind. It was telling her things she didn't know she knew. She felt her consciouness slipping away, and she stared blankly into nothingness, the world seemed to go dark.

Laeriel suddenly realised she was bathed in darkness. It seemed as if the sun had been taken out of the sky. She knew not how long she had been sitting there, a second, a day, it could have been years. Then, she saw her. Was it herself? She was feeling what this person was feeling, or were these feelings of her own. She became confused, up was down, left was right, things came at her from all sides. Memories, feelings, faces of people she did not know, visions of places she had never seen. It all stopped, so suddenly she did not realise right away. But then, something else happened. Pain. Terrible pain. It felt as if a knife was being slowly twisted in her heart, 'round and 'round, until she thought she could not bear it any longer. Someone was hurting her, why? Didn't he know she loved him? Why did he not love her? She hated him, whoever this person was, and yet she loved him. She hated him because she loved him. She felt as if she could die, so why didn't she just lie down and let go of this pain? What kept her here?

She felt as if something was holding her back. Something was keeping her alive, giving her a reason to live. Just a little longer, she told herself, He must live, I cannot die until I know he will survive. Who was he, though? Laeriel suddenly came to the realization that these thoughts were not her own. But who's were they? She became confused again, she felt her sanity slipping away. No, she thought, I must fight it, she said to herself, over and over. Just as the vision was disapearing, she saw it. The most beautiful grey eyes she had ever seen with a face fair and pure, framed with dark brown locks that fell softly passed her shoulders. Laeriel's eyes traveled downward, noticing the now very swolen belly. Then, as suddenly as the vision came, it snapped away, throwing her back into reality. The sun came like a blinding light, hurting Laeriel's eyes so much she screamed in pain. Then, her head began to throb, she became confused again, but a different sort of confusion. She didn't know where she was, what she was, she knew nothing. Things danced around in her head, voices and visions, things she could not sort out and make sense of. Only one thing made sense.

"Rhylin!" She screamed with desperation, "Rhylin, help me!" She looked frantically around her, shouldn't he be there? He should always be there, he should never leave her. Why wasn't he there? She couldn't remember. Why should she? What need was there to think of life without him? Suddenly he emerged from behind a tree. Her heart leaped a thousand feet when she saw him. His piercingly blue eyes framed with dark brown locks that rustled about his forehead as the breeze blew. She rose to greet him, but she was too weak. She colapsed to the ground, her legs shaking. That would not stop her, she scampered across the grass on her hands and knees to reach him. He rushed to her and fell on one knee beside her when he saw her.

"Rhylin! It's terrible, she's dying! I have to find her! How could he, Rhylin? He's tormenting her every waking momment. She will die without him!" She threw her arms around him and pulled him close. She could faintly smell his hair, it was the most wonderful thing she had ever smelled. She felt as if she had gone mad, she nearly had. She was still confused and dilusional. She knew at least one thing, though, he was here with her, and she would never let him leave again.
Subject: In the gardens


Author:
Rhylin
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Date Posted: 08:42:24 06/18/02 Tue
The fiery leaves crackled under his leather shod feet as Rhylin picked his way carefully through the palace gardens. The day smelled fresh and inviting and the faery suppressed the urge to take to the sky and swoop through the golden rain of autumn foliage: It would not be seemly, he reminded himself grimly. It is unfair to fly before those who cannot. He smiled fleetingly at a gardener who was hoeing a flower bed. The man did not smile back as he returned to his his work.

A bird hovered near him and Rhylin held out his hand for the small animal to land on. Gentally he carressed its downy mid-drift. "Shouldn't you have left by now?" he asked politly so as not to offend it "Autumn's almost over. All the food will be gone soon." The bird ruffled its feathers indignantly and the dark haired faery laughed. "Yes, I know you know what season it is. It was just a suggestion." The bird cheeped and flew off into a clear sky its feathery wings the same colour as her eyes Rhylin thought blissfully.

Laeriel.

If someone had asked him but five hours ago what would make him the happiest being ever he would have answered instantly: being near her. Now he knew the truth: Being with her was what mattered.

The faery moved quickly across the lawn towards their arranged meeting point.

He was just meters away when he heard the scream.
Subject: Plan B


Author:
Brooke
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Date Posted: 19:30:51 06/18/02 Tue
Brookes whole body shook with rage as she looked down at what was happening. The fact that she was getting wet did not help. " Blast that elf and and her magic to hell. She is spoiling all my fun!"

" Well there goes that plan. I told you not to underestimate your opponents." said Whitewmoon with a yawn.
He was inpressed with the powers of the female elf. The rain seemed to be doing it's job both on the fire and on brooke. He knew if she did not calm down she would do some thing hasty that could endanger her mission. He had never seen her in this kind of rage.

Brooke sighted and relaxed a smile on her face " Alas for plan A. I thought it would go of with out a fault. It does not matter now I know she can do that. This is definetly going to be fun i have never had an opponent that did not fall in my first attack. But that was not the only gift i was given. " What do you mean" Whitemoon asked.

"The bow sends out fire but of the four elements. I was not planning to use the others since they are harder to put out than original fire even when magical. But the female elf has gotten on my nerves. She want's to play at being the hero then i'm going to enjoy my role as the villian.
Two can play at her water game. And just to make it even more fun i think i will take on the image of their fatefull but in my opinion weak king. Then we will head for the castle and stirr things up there."

" Do not tell me you are going to use ice fire" whitemoon said panick in his voice. Brooke sghted " Come on whitemoon this is my job. She is just making it harder. the lce fire will hurt people (especially the elves hopefully) but it will not kill them. Just leave them scared to death and cold but that's about it."

Whitemoon looked down at the training grounds. " Very well. Do what you must." Brooke spread her wings and glided down again keeping to the shadows. ' Alright elf i did not want to use Plan B but you leave me no choice. Let's see how you deal with ice fire.' She let the ice fire arrow fly to land right in front of the elves. She came out of the shadows with the image of the king around. She again fired an arrow at the elves this time in back of them. Then she ran to the exits firing an arrow at each of them while the people watched her in confusion. The fire once again spread faster than the last especially since it was raining. She waved at the onlookers with a smile on her face and melted into the shadows. She put another image on herself and flew back to whitemoon. " That will most definetly confuse them to no end. Now to the castle."

She flew to the palace. Once there she stopped. Under her was a garden ,and under a tree there sat two people enbracing each other. ' Wonder what's goin on there'
It was not inportant she had much better things to do.
Whitemoon catched up to her looking down. " Do not tell me you are going to set this place on fire." Brooke smiled
" I was not but that is a good idea. then we can head to the kings room and set it on fire. After that i will call it a day and just watch how they handle this.

She fired an arrow in front of the couple. She fired two more until the fire sourrounded the couple and started spreading. She then started for the kings room. After not being able to find them for over five minutes she was getting frustrated when she finally came to them.

The window was open so she stepped in. There was a desk with a very big pile of papers on it. She went to it and started reading one of them. She smiled " I do believe this papers are inportant matters of the kingdon if i am right. To bad for the king." she fired an arrow at the pile of papers then on the bed, and finally at the doors. She quickly flew out the window. " Let's head back to the training grounds and see how they are doing." She flew of in that direction whitemoom following.
Subject: Fire!


Author:
Faeirex (and minor Legolas comments)
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Date Posted: 19:59:33 06/18/02 Tue
Faeirex jumped backwards cat-like as the arrow thudded into the ground by her feet. Faster than any natural flame, it crept, eating up winter-brittle twigs with the hunger of a thousand locusts. Both elves backed away from the startling heat on the crisp morning.
Around her she heard the oaths as warriors realised what was happening, gathering into a defensive circle in the center, swords drawn as if by pure force they could hold off the flames. She and Legolas joined them.

Caught up in the overriding current of fear, for a moment, Faeirex froze. The flames reflected back from her widened eyes, casting her features in an orange glow. Like a cornered animal, she cowered away, seeing the thing that forest dwellers fear most of all - fire.

Legolas searched desparately for an escape. There was no way out- flames surrounded them on all sides. He coughed in the rising smoke that clung to them possessively, trying to claim the prisoners for its own.
"Lómódë!"
She was frightened, her eyes wide and scared. He wished he could comfort her, but what could he say? Instead, he pulled her behind him, placing his own body between her and the flames.
"Lómódë, you mustn't panic." he told her urgently. "Try to keep calm. Don't give in."

His words shook her from the moment of stupor.
Survival of the fittest.
Fear weakened her, but it would not conquer her. With an effort, she slowed her breathing, ruthlessly chasing down the emotion and locking it away deep inside her mind. It was replaced by a deadly, icy calm. The very air around her seemed to chill, pushing back the heat from the trapped men as she concentrated.
Faeirex reached deep down inside herself, calling on the tangled threads of magic that dwelt there. She pulled them together, combining them into a single cord of pure power nestling close to her heart. The world fell away as she submerged herself in the magic, becoming a part of it. She was the air, she was earth, fire and water.
"Rain."

The word was so quiet, yet her voice was unsheathed like a dagger, cutting through the noise to reach every ear. And rain came. Dark clouds condensed from the previously clear sky, thundering ominously above. Rain beat down in a sharp tattoo, smothering angrily hissing flames and dousing her in deliciously cool water that chased away the smoke's ashy kiss.
Subject: Afterwards


Author:
Anawiel
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Date Posted: 20:53:06 06/18/02 Tue
She had woken to the sound of the flames. They crackled through her mind as well as the castle walls. The magic lay thick like fog in her mind. Choking her.

Anawiel turned to look beside her. Madjael slept on, his ash blond hair lying carefree over his forehead, carressing his warm skin. His dark lashes rested like black crescents on his face. He looked younger asleep. More vunareble. Just a boy really.

At that moment she hated herself. What would Galáril have thought of her? She thought desparately. Would he have forgiven her? No. Not after what she had done to him so long ago. And how did she repay him?

She betrayed him every single day, like she did everyone else. The one person she had loved through her death, through his death, through his sacrifice for her. And she had betrayed him for...for what? For one night with Madjael?Her friend?

She slipped out from under the rough linen sheets and pulled on her clothes, leaving the room, silent as the breeze in Mirkwood. Home. She could smell the trees now. Along with the ash that did not reside within her memories. Faeirex would've seen to the flames of course. It was her nature as an elf to overreact.

In the courtyard, men hurried round. Calling and shouted for help. Anawiel didn't bother to see if anyone was hurt. A person can't survive magic fire.
' Not even a high elf' she thought to herself happily. The one thing she had over them. Witches blocked it. Shame really.

Her instinct led her to the training grounds. Anawiel saw a beautiful white wolf was loping steadily along. There was no one else around. She looked up, searching, searching the skies - until she found it. A slight shimmer in the air. Delicate and a silver colour.

She grabbed a long snakewood fighting stick, sharpened into a long point at the end and hardened with flames. Anawiel ran swiftly raising the pole into the air until it connected with something. She twisted the wood with a meer thought, around what seemed to be an ankle. Pulling sharply a small thud came to the ground. The thud, as it were, turned out to be a girl. About 20 years old, maybe less, maybe more, it was hard to tell. Anawiel spun the stick round to rest in the hollow of the girl's neck. The wolf running towards them.

"Yield or die," she said calmly as a faint smile twisted across her lip. She added as if as an afterthought, "Brooke Silverblade."
Subject: a rather strange creature


Author:
ryna
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Date Posted: 21:14:52 06/18/02 Tue
Ryna had decided to go off on her own for a walk to get out of the palace. It was definitely more boring than she thought. She had envisioned wearing gorgeous dresses, having banquets, having very adult conversations with princesses and being waited on hand and foot. No such luck. Her dad being the guy he is had refused any help from the servants, saying he was quite capable of making his own bed and told them not to bother. I mean!
So here she was, bored, walking through some deserted grounds beside one of their many forests.
A movement caught her eye and she spun on her heel excitedly. An adventure? Something to do? Something very important that she must tell the King immediately?
Running over to a rather tall clump of grass she peered into it, then straightened her back in astonishment.
Quivering and jerking, as though tugged by an invisible thread, a damaged raven was struggling upon its back – feebly waving one wing and kicking its legs in the air.
Opening the black, feather-fringed beak, the raven let out a plaintive cheep, then shook its head. The lower part of its jaw gave a faint click and locked open so that it was stuck in a painful looking yet silent howl.
Writhing uncomfortably, it squirmed and clawed at its mouth, bashing its head against the ground until the beak snapped shut once more and the eyes fluttered closed in blissful relief.
“Don’t worry, I won’t hurt you. But if I help you stand you’d better not bite me.”
Slowly she slid her hand beneath his silky feathers and gently lifted the raven so it was standing upright.
The creature shook itself and leered gratefully up at her. Unfortunately, its balance was still rather shaky and, with a squawk of surprise, it promptly tipped over and fell on Ryna’s feet. Again it wriggled helplessly on its back, once more gazing up at her in despair.
Ryna came to its rescue a second time. “you look drunk” she chuckled.
The raven stumbled back and fixed Ryna with such a comical and impish look Ryna laughed. The raven opened its beak and spoke.
Subject: A Timely Arrival


Author:
Alator
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Date Posted: 21:19:52 06/18/02 Tue
Alator could feel the magic pulsing from the centre of Minas Tirith. Bad magic. He knew that while he remained where he stood, observing the various smoke trails which fluttered on the wind, nothing could be do to stop the chaous and it's maker spreading even further through the city. Something had to be done, and Alator's arrival seemed somewhat timely.

Round by the training grounds, much damage had been done. Wood charred by flame, now there was something far more chilling. Bad magic. Raising his staff into he air, the blue jewel at the tip catching the light. Under his breath he muttered word of a tongue which had not been spoken for many years in Minas Tirith. It would take a few moments for the spell to show, and for the very heart of this evil to melt. He knew not from where it came, only to hinder guesses, but now was not the time for mindless observations. Smoke still rose in other places in the palace, and he was needed there.

This was not, Alator reflected as he hurried to a courtyard which was blazing, how he had intended to arrive.
Subject: Hmmm, this is interesting...


Author:
Faeirex
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Date Posted: 21:57:35 06/18/02 Tue
Her hair fell loosely over her shoulders in dripping locks, and her soaked dress stuck to her limbs when she moved. The penetrating rain had soaked her to the skin as fast as if she had been thrown in a pool of water. Yet Faeirex didn't care. The power pulsed through her blood now, unleashed.

When the flames leapt up a second time, she frowned in annoyance. All fear was gone now, banished by the rush of exhileration that had flooded through her with the coming of the rain. This wasn't supposed to happen though. No fire should be able to come through water. She looked at it more closely, then cursed.
"Someone's using magic!"

This time the fire was icy, to the extent of being cold enough to blister and burn on contact. Yet it could not be doused by rain- on the contrary, it seemed almost to grow, fueled by the drops. Puzzled, she stopped the flow and sent away the clouds, letting the sun shine through again. Ice was a familiar weapon to her, but ice fire she wasn't sure how to deal with. It didn't seem to behave in the way normal fire did.

Whoever was doing this was going to be in big trouble if she caught them...

Before she could return to the task at hand, however, and try to stop the flames for a second time, they began to die of their own accord. Puzzled, she watched them sputter, before vanishing altogether, leaving only blisters on the wet ground. Faeirex raised her eyebrows.
"That was...interesting."
Subject: Escape


Author:
Brooke
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Date Posted: 23:09:42 06/18/02 Tue
Brooke looked at the woman in front of her. She was surprised the woman knew her name. Whitemoon jumped between her and the woman. The woman in surprise stumbled back.

Brooke got up and laughed " Next time i will make sure that my illusions are well placed. Congraduations your'e the first to ever catch me. Sorry if i can not stay and talk but i have other bussines to attend too." With that brooke launched herself into the sky spreading her wings and this time making sure her illusion was firmly in place " You won't tell the others about me will you? but you are welcome to it. And do not worry we will meet again. I have a question that you need to answer."

With that she flew higher up and headed towards the forest outside the city. ' I will have to be more careful. For now i will have to dissapear for a while. That was way to close a call. Now for more inportant matters how does she know my name,and is she elvish. She sort of looked like it.'
Subject: Prison


Author:
Faramir
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Date Posted: 16:32:05 06/19/02 Wed
The air was damp and it felt as if it carried a poison, such was the stench. It was not that Faramir had never been down to these dungeons before, but obviously the smell had not lingered in his memory. "Come on," he turned to urge Aragorn on, "I don't like it down here just as much as you, the sooner we get this over with, the sooner we can get out."
Subject: The boy


Author:
Aragorn
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Date Posted: 16:50:30 06/19/02 Wed
Aragorn nodded grimly and moved past the soldiers trying not to breathe in too deeply. There were no windows and the torch in the king’s hand crackled as it coldly lit the way down dingy pathways. Hands from inside the cells reached out to him and he grasped them firmly, seeing the eyes of what was once a man gleaming at him in the wavering light; “Whatever you have done you did not deserve this.”
“This is them, sir.”
“Can you let us in please.”
The iron key rasped in its lock and the door swung open.

Inside two men huddled on a pile of wet straw blinking into this new light. Their skin was pallid and their hair lank and once again Aragorn felt his heart swell with compassion.
“Do you know who I am?” he asked gently as the rusty gate clanged shut. They nodded mutely.
“So you know why you are in here?” Again they nodded.
“Can you tell me who hired you?” Frantic shaking of heads. “You can’t?” Relief tinged their careworn faces.
“Sorry your majesty. We swore an oath.” Aragorn turned to fix the speaker with a piercing gaze. “I understand that. But listen I need to know who sent you after me. There have been other attempts on my life and the information you provide might give me a chance to prepare myself. I’m not asking you to do this without reward.” He shuddered internally before speaking again. “If you help me, I might be able to help you. Unless that is you are fond of your new home.”
It was blackmail pure and simple and Aragorn’s soul rebelled against its use but his head persisted that he had to know. The younger of the two men opened his mouth and the other hit him sharply across the head and whispered “don’t say anything. You think this man has a shred of honour within him? How do you know he’ll release you after you aid him? Besides you know what will happen.”
“I don’t care. I won’t die in this cell.” The youths voice rose high and piercing; the voice of someone who clings onto their last thread of sanity with a grip that is rapidly failing. “I’ll tell you who did it your majesty. It was…” his voice died and his hand flew to his throat.
“What’s wrong?” Aragorn asked the other man horrified, as he watched the youth choking.
“You killed him that’s what.”
The dying man was suddenly silenced.
“I didn’t mean too,” the king stammered rising to his feet. “You never said this would happen.”
“I said we couldn’t help you. Then you had to go offer the boy your disgusting freedom. He wasn’t a bad lad.”

Quickly Aragorn turned and tried to exit. The door was still locked. “Will someone get me out of here!” he yelled panic stricken. He felt the faint touch of claustrophobia as the guard turned the key and almost ran past the cells in the darkness; in his haste he had left the torch in with the prisoners. In the part of his mind that dealt with everyday things he heard Faramir calling for him to slow down. But that part was quickly submerged by the part that was still reeling from the boy’s death.

He burst into the sunlight. He felt fear's cold claw release his heart and he breathed deeply in relief. Something had happened down there. The boy's sudden death was one thing but even stranger was how frightened he had been. It reeked of magic.

He cast around for Faramir but the steward was no where in sight. A flicker caught his eye and Aragorn gasped as he watched the flames lick over his palace. "Oh my gods! What has happened here?" With out waiting for the steward to emerge he ran.
Subject: Vision sickness


Author:
Rhylin and Laeriel
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Date Posted: 19:20:39 06/19/02 Wed
He cradled her close. "It's alright now. I'm here." He pushed her sweat streaked hair back from her face. "You had a vision? I thought..." he looked away embarressed. "I didn't think that was possible."

There were so many voices in Laeriel's head, she could hardly distinguish Rhylin's as his own. Even when she realised what he said, though, she did not understand what he meant. "What are you saying? We have to help her! She wants to die, I know she does. She told me so, she let me feel her pain. We must help her now! I can't let her die...he still loves her," she said.

He stroked her face gently, recognising the signs of the vision sickness he had experienced so many times before. "Don't worry. We'll help her I promise" he told her. "But we have to worry about Laeriel at the moment, ok love? Are you alright?"

He spoke to her in simple words, yet she still did not understand most of what he said. She pulled him close, burying her head in his neck, "I'm fine, it's her we need to worry about. She feels so alone, Rhylin, as if no one cares for her. She needs to know that someone still cares, or else she'll die. Very soon," she said. Suddenly, she remembered. She looked up at Rhylin, "She is with-child. She will not die until he is born," she said, almost mechanically. Then she relaxed and rested her head on his shoulder again.

"We'll go; just not now. First we need to wait until your well again." She twisted her head and stared at him; feverish eyes wide. "Don't worry. Everything will be fine." An arrow thudded to earth, inches from Rhylin's left hand which clasped Laeriel's right. Instantly a clear flame sprang from where the dart had impacted. The faery's eyes searched franctically for the bowman but no one was in sight. One arm slid under Laeriels waist as another arrow landed. The flames surounded them. Quickly he picked her up. "What's going on?" she asked dazedly. "Nothing," he lied and extended his wings. Laeriel's slender form weighed almost nothing as he took to the sky away from the gathering ivory flames.

Laeriel felt herself being lifted off the ground. Only when they were in flight did she realize what was going on. She suddenly felt herself becoming more aware, "But, wait, Sahrien, Arracus, Derrion! Where are they? Are they safe?" she asked panickedly. She began to struggle a bit, she was too weak to even call on her own wings. "We must go back and find them!" she yelled.

"There's nothing we can do," he soothed while trying despartely not to drop her struggling body. "The best thing you can do now is get to safety." You're in no condition at the moment to battle with fire. They'll feel better knowing your ok." He alighted on one of the lawns and laid her down gently on the grass. "So, what did you see?"

He said they could do nothing, yet Laeriel did not believe it. She could not let herself leave them there. She could feel him lay her down gently onto the ground, still cool with morning chill. She could feel the frustration welling up inside her, something was wrong. She could not make sense of anything. Some distant part of her uderstood that she was not well, but the rest of her could not. "Are you sure they will be okay?" she asked, looking deeply into his blue eyes, her voice barely above a whisper.

He started to reassure her but even with her like this he couldn't lie that dramatically. "I don't know. We can only hope."

Laeriel cast her eyes downward. She knew she could not help them. The best she could do was tell Rhylin what she had seen. She looked up into his eyes again, "I saw her, she was beautiful. Brown hair that fell past her shoulders, grey eyes that looked like stars twinkling in the night. She is hurting, she let me feel it. It felt-" Laeriel paused to find the words: "It felt like something was eating me from within. I wanted to die, life had no meaning or reason. Except him, he needed to be born. She could not-cannot-let him die. He means everything, he is her only reason to live," she finnished. She moved her eyes towards the distant flames, she could hear the commotion. Her sharp eyes saw a few people rushing to snuff the flame, but it was imposible. She could see this fire was different, it was caused by magic.

"She will live to see him grow then," he felt relief wash over him. He could offer Laeriel this small comfort at last. "Do you know her name?"
"I know not her name. She's like... and Evenstar. That's it, an Evenstar," Laeriel said.

"Arwen's dying?" the urge to rise and run to the king was strong but Rhylin fought it back. "No you must be mistaken. Elessar loves her. She can't be dying." But even as he said the words he knew they were untrue. Hadn't she told him herself that night in the stables? Even so he had assumed she was just being melodramatic. But dying? "Are you sure?"

"Yes, I'm no less sure of it than my love for you!" she said, rising into a panic, "I tell you, she will die without him. He hurts so badly she can bear no longer. She thinks he does not love her, she doesn't know, he thinks she does not love him. Please, we must find whoever he is and tell him, before it's too late!" she looked pleadingly at Rhylin.

"We will." Whether the king will listen to two trespassers in his castle is questionable. The thought remained unsaid however and he smiled down at her. "You should sleep. The vision sickness will not wear off for a while. I'll be here while you sleep. And hey," he grinned with a humour he did not feel, "don't get too good at this vision thing or I might be out of a job, alright?"

She smiled, though she did not know what the king had to do with any of this. She also did not know why he was talking about visions. "Alright," she said, kissing him softly. She curled up in his arms, she felt incredibly safe. As long as she was with him, nothing would hurt her. Sleepyness overtook her, and she gently drifted away into dreams.
Subject: Question


Author:
Anawiel
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Date Posted: 20:00:14 06/19/02 Wed
I have a question you need to answer. Wonder what that may be? Anawiel thought sarcastically. It was obvious really. Maybe not. There were several basic questions that Brooke would ask:

Who are you?
How do you know my name?
What are you?
Why are you here?
Why did you follow me?
How did you know what to look for?
Who do you work for?

A whole little list of what Anawiel knew would be asked at some point. Would she answer them though? And would her anser be the truth? Grinning she turned away and started back to the city.

Of course she answer. But it wouldn't be the truth.
Subject: a rather strange language


Author:
ryna
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Date Posted: 20:27:04 06/19/02 Wed
“Fie!” it cried in a gurgly piping voice. “As merrie as a malted mouse this knave doth be . . . nay, as a boiled owl!”
Ryna stared at the bird in delight. Should she be surprised to hear a raven talk or is it to be expected in the palace grounds? She always knew palaces had much better things, but this?
“He that eateth the king’s goose doth void fethers a hundred years after,” the raven rambled, lurching and teetering precariously. “I doth thank heaven thy father wert borne afore ye – most generous of esquires. How goeth the day?”
Ryna crouched down and brought her face close to the birds. “I’m fine, yet I am no male,” she said, “but are you all right? My name’s Ryna. Can you remember yours? You don’t seem very sure of anything.”
“A malmsey dowsing of the noddle-tree, oh courteous gallant,” the raven replied, shaking its head and hitting it with its wing. “The even that brimmeth over doth make for a cloudy morn. No recollection have I of whom or whence – nor know aught save the briny tang in mine gullet and the hammers in mine pate.” Ryna’s head was spinning with the effort of understanding her raven. “Dost the new day remember the old? In mine brains there is naught to gleam, wretch’s mind are robbed and squandered, the casket of the skull is bereft and full of lack. No ember can tutor me in name or descent, yet I am sensible of a darkness behind me, though I know it not, nor from whence it stems. Alack and alas for I.”
Ryna smiled reassuringly. “Well, you don’t seem like a villain to me,” she said. “But I’ll have to call you something.”
“Wilt thou not appoint unto me a name of thine own choosing?” the raven begged.
Feeling sorry for the poor creature, Ryna considered his plea for a little while then grinned. “I know, I’ll call you . . . Quoth.”
The raven cocked its head to one side and muttered the word under its breath before ruffling its frayed feathers and bowing low until its beak tapped upon the ground.
“Verily and amen to that,” he cried gladly. “Henceforth the tale of Quoth shalt begin, aught that he wast can moulder and remain forgot ever more.”
Subject: Inside


Author:
Arwen
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Date Posted: 21:23:52 06/19/02 Wed
She tossed over and over, in what would appear to be feverish sleep to any lookers. Yet this was quite different. It was hardly sleep at all, for everything was real, dreams were real now, they made more sense than the blurry pictures which flashed before her eyes when she was awake

The woodland glades were adorned with Niphredil and Elanor. Dappled sunlight caught through the leaves, which glistened with fresh rain. She knew this place. She knew the people who trod on the grass, with soft elven speech floating over to where she stood. Yet, she knew each word before it was spoken.

He stood tall, clad in soft grey robes of the elves of Lothlorien, a gem fixed upon his brow. If she did not know otherwise, she would have said he was a great elven lord, not a mortal man. This was the moment, this was the moment it all went wrong. The moment the blood of her ancestor had shown itself.

It was then she realised. It didn't hurt anymore. Nothing hurt. Nothing made sense, as if her very thoughts were wiped from her head before she had even time to comprehend them. As if someone was inside.
Subject: Pipe weed


Author:
Alator
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Date Posted: 21:42:07 06/19/02 Wed
Alator settled himself down outside the palace walls on a low bench. The guards had already eyed him suspiciasly on his exit from the castle- no doubt they would connect him to the fires, whether the cause or the destroyer.

He chewed the end of his pipe, watching the soft blue smoke, seeing it flicker in ribbons into the air. He found there was no need for his presence at the royal residence for the time being. There was something there he had not expected. Through the flames of the ice fire, there was no mistake, there was a High Elf in Minas Tirith.

Why had she stayed here? It was very curious, curious indeed. All of the High Elves had left Middle Earth for the Undying Lands many years ago. Unless somehow...
The possiblity that for some reason even a handful of the High Elven folk still resided on these shores was...relieving. Alator knew one thing, the elves would all be needed. Something was coming, and the power and magic that lived within these creatures might just be enough to tip the balance. He hoped.
Subject: Planning


Author:
Brooke
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Date Posted: 22:38:28 06/19/02 Wed
Brooke watched the smoke rising from the city she had left.
" It looks like they are having a hard time putting out those fires" said whitemoon.

" Good. That's exacly what i wanted. I truly hope those elves get hurt. And is that woman that catched me going to pay for that." brooke said.

Whitemoon sighted. " Once again i am telling you she did not look elvish to me leave her out of this. She was probably just triyng to do her job, and besides did you not notice fire had no affect over her. She is a witch i know one when i see one. And i do not think she will answer your questions with half the truth"

" She can be a mermaid for all i care. She catched me and that made me mad. No ones done that before.I will have my answers even if i have to use the truth dust i got from that merchant in bree.For now i will see to her with the rest of her friends. Once things have calmed down i will use the dark lords next gift."

Whitemoon looked at her in surprise " You mean to use the Nightmare Rose."

Brooke smiled " The one and the same. And do not worry it only effects those of fifteen years of age and up. I will use it once they have finished putting out those fires and things calm down. But at the speed they are going the dark lord can come and go and the weaklings will still have not put them out.Come i do not wish to wait here for a century. We will go see how they are doing." With that brooke took to the air firmly putting in place her illusion around her and whitemoon as she headed towards Minas Tirith.
Subject: The intruder


Author:
Vomyr
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Date Posted: 12:46:48 06/20/02 Thu
The study was ruined and Vomyr turned away in disgust and started to head back to his quarters. If the hidden assailant had arrived with a specific purpose to ruin the next few weeks of his life he could not have done better. There was no way that the king would fill all these out again the valet thought bitterly. Not when it cost him so much the first time. No. That job would be left to the loyal Vomyr. Great.

The fire had died out shortly after he had marshalled a group of soldiers together to douse it with water. But whether it had been that or some alternative source of power that had smothered the silver flames he was uncertain.

He stopped to lean out of a window. Down below more people were rushing about in the aftermath of the fire. Fools he thought. It is over. Move on. Prepare for the next threat. Looking down upon the ruined civilization Vomyr shuddered. "He had something to do with this, I know it"
Actually I did not. They icy voice echoed silently inside his head. However I am most pleased with the results. This rash action has taken a far stronger effect than anything I could've concocted.
"Stay out of my mind!" he yelled whirling to try and glimpse his tormentor though he knew it was a futile hope.
Oh Vomyr, I am disapointed in you.
"Leave me alone."
Is that any way to speak to a friend?
"We were never friends. You used me and spat me out. Now go away!"
Your words wound me. A hard laugh without humour. But you are right: We were never friends. One suggestion before I go," the voice paused thoughtfully. If I were you I'd return to the king's study. You might find something of interest there.
"What's that supposed to mean? What does any of this mean?" Vomyr shouted into the empty hallways which did not heed him. The voice was gone.
Subject: The Ash Mountains


Author:
The Black Riders
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Date Posted: 16:19:43 06/20/02 Thu
The Ered Lithui towered high, their pinnacles breaking through the blanket of black cloud that smothered the sun and created a gloom much befitting to the scene.

A vast army of Orcs spread as far as could be seen. Their vile stench suffocated the air and tortured screams ripped through the plains.

In the centre of them stood The Nine, seated high on their black stallions. One jerked violently on the reigns of his horse, which reared up and gave a shrill scream. With that, five Riders began to canter, a thousand orcs surging forward with them. They hollered cries of War as the army moved out. They were headed to the city of the Elves, where the enemies heart lay unprotected. She was the key to victory.

The War had begun.
Subject: The man


Author:
Aragorn
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Date Posted: 19:17:00 06/20/02 Thu
In frantic haste the man searched through the papers strewn over the desk. Most crumbled to ash in his fingers; burnt beyond redemption. He picked up one that remained larger than his outstretched palm. It was just possible to make out its title; this paper was concerning the poor hospital. Apart from that the writing was blurred out of recognition. He cursed softly. Everything the fire had left the water had destroyed.

A loud panting anounced the valet's arrival as Vomyr hurled himself into the room.
"What are you doing here?"
"What am I... Vomyr, what are you talking about?"
"What am I talking about? Will you get away from those papers. His majesty is going to be upset enough as it is."

Aragorn looked up from his ruined paperwork and glared at his man-servant. "Look Vomyr, I really don't have time for this kind of thing. Please just leave me alone."
The valet backed away out of the door before yelling "Guards!"
"Vomyr..." his voice tailed off a dozen heavily-built soldiers pounded into the room.
"Arrest this man," the valet ordered his voice trembling with anticipation. "He's been pawing through the king's work and I am certain that he also lit the fires that have caused such choas this morning."
Aragorn laughed at the joke he did not understand but the laugh faltered as the men advanced.
"What are you doing?"
"You 'erd. Go through the king's stuff would you?"
"But I am the king."
The chuckled at the maniac before them. "Look in a mirror mate."
Aragorn turned slowly and caught a glimse of another man, a man with a clean cut beard and hooked nose, in the glass before the reflection reformed into his own.
He swung back to the men who gaped at him; "A shape shifter!"
Vomyr's rang through the confusion, shrill and piercing: "Did I not tell you? He started those fires. Men swore they saw the king shooting burning arrows. It is clear now that this man has obviously assumed his form in an attempt to trick us all."
One of the men leered at him. "Lets see if a night in the dungeon weakens your resolve eh? Maybe then you'll think twice about impersonating Elessar."

Aragorn started to protest until one of them raised his fist and knocked him sharply round the head. The king of Gondor fell to the floor and blacked out.
Subject: Wrong one


Author:
Brooke
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Date Posted: 20:35:21 06/20/02 Thu
Brooke watched from outside the window as the king was knocked out by his own men and taken away to the dungeons.
" That was fun. Altough i feel a little sorry for him."

" I did not see the fun in it brooke you just made an in
nocent man go to prison. I suggest you get him out of it."
" Whitemoon can't you see that this is perfect? Minas Tirith with out a king. It is the dark lords dream come true.The city will easily fall with out him."
Whitemoon started growling in anger. " Brooke this is going way to far! I suggest you find a way to clear that mans name or i will leave!"

Brooke stared in amazement at whitemoon. " Your'e actually serious aren't you?" In responce whitemoons growls grew louder and more angry.

" Very well i will clear his name. Only i do not know how to do it." Whitemoon relaxed. " Quite easy. Just reveal yourself." " There is no way i am doing that! it would be a terrible mistake. I'm not stupid!" " Then think of a another way but clear that mans name!"

Brooke groaned in irritation. ' I think i just got myself into more trouble than i bargained for. and here i was suppose to be laying low for a while.'

" Hey you out there who are you and what are you doing outside the kings window?" Brooke almost fell when the voice called her attention. Brooke looked into the kings rooms to see a man inside the kings room looking strate at her.

" You dropped your illusion Brooke!" whitemoon said. "illusion?" the man questioned.
Brooke smiled ' so much for the mistery aproach.'
As the man advanced towards her she waved at him and put on her best smile. " Sorry to tell you this but you got the wrong person in prison. Not that prisons could hold a Feairalev anyway. Just wanted to give you a warning. Goodbye now."

With that brooke put her illusion around her and whitemoon. ' Now i really am in trouble.' she thought as she headed towards the training grounds to see what was happening there.
Subject: A fresh start, a new life?


Author:
Harion
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Date Posted: 21:40:16 06/21/02 Fri
The huge city gates of Minas Tirith towered high overhead. Harion craned his neck
backwards to admire the stone carving on top. He had never seen a structure so high,
at least one that was not natural. Tearing his eyes away from the gate posts he forced
himself to stride into the city. The hustle of the market place stole his attention.
hundreds of people in one place, more than he had ever seen before in his life. Gossip
flew in and out of the crowd, he picked up something to do with fires at the palace.
His green eyes widened as he took in the stalls displaying exotic food. Traders
shouted out their wares and people gathered around, parting with precious coins.
Harion’s eyes gleamed as he saw the riches being passed around. His sister was right.
The city was a place where a man could get rich. His stomach began to grumble at
the sight of all the food, he hadn’t eaten for the last couple of days. He felt the
familiar pangs of hunger, nothing new there, only here he was tempted with real food.

A small wizened woman on a stall caught sight of the tall young man backed against
the wall. Her eyes gleamed as she recognised a potential customer. She waddled
towards him, greasy grey hair hanging down her double chin, a toothless beam
splitting her face in two. Harion saw her approaching and tried to back away. “Come
back me loovie” she lisped, “I’m sure I’ve got something that will suit the likes of
you” He backed up against the wall, mouth going dry. “I...I haven’t got any money”
She approached even closer. Far too close for comfort. He could see the warts on her
face bounce as she chuckled. “They all say that, they do, don’t they” she muttered
loudly. “No one wants to help an old woman stay alive, they don’t.” She grabbed his
arm and began dragging him back towards her stall. “Let me see what I’ve got for
you, now, let me see” She halted and pinched his cheek with an iron like grip. “I’ve
got something that will make all the young girls flock to you, yes, flock to you they
will if you give old Meg a few pennies.”

“I’ve told you, I don’t have any money, I’m looking for a job.....” his words were lost
on Meg as she rooted through her stall, emerging with a bottle continuing a clear
liquid. “Only four pennies” Meg lisped approaching closer and closer. Harion’s blond
hair flipped into his eyes as he started backing away again. “I’ve told you. I don’t
want....” he cried desperately. Meg could sense her victim’s lack of experience with
traders. “Only four pennies, and all the girls will flock to you.” The hard, wooden
edge of the next stall pressed against Harion’s back as he couldn’t retreat any more.
His cloak caught against the corner as he tried to slide away. Still Meg approached,
rapidly losing her beam. Harion had had enough. He turned and fled, powerful legs
striding, his cloak entwined around the stall, sent it crashing to the floor. The
smashing of pottery caused every face in the market place to turn in the direction. The
owner of the stall shrieked as her wares tumbled into the dust. Harion spun around
and realised what he had done. “I’m sorry” he stammered. The crowd of onlookers
pressed closer, shopping forgotten as they enjoyed the entertainment.
The stall owner stepped over the remains of her stall and stood next to old Meg.
“What’s my husband going to say?” she shrieked, her high pitched voice rising above
the murmuring of the crowd. “You’ll pay for this!”

Harion felt sweat break out on his forehead, the contents of the stall would cost a
fortune. He was here to make money, not increase the rising tide of debt which
burdened his sister. He knew no one in this city. He was alone and in trouble already.
“I...I..I can’t” he eventually stammered. The storeowners eyes narrowed. The crowd
waited expectantly.
Subject: Dark Forces Rising


Author:
Ozlug
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Date Posted: 21:51:56 06/21/02 Fri
The dark shadows of the great halls stretched high to the ink black ceilings. Ozlug
lopped through the huge expanses, darkness meant nothing to him. His large eyes
gleamed in the dim light highlighting the bluish tinge of his skin. He approached the
main staircase where a tall figure stood wrapped in a black cloak. The figure’s face
was hidden in shadow, the voice was harsh and cruel.
“You are late” it stated. Ozlug bowed before the figure, long bony fingers sweeping
the floor.
“I appologise, your greatness” It was better not to argue. This messanger for the dark
lord had already disposed of 3 Orc captains, none of whom were now fit for service.
The silence lengthened. Ozlug waited, breathing heavily. He smeared the snot
dribbling from his nose across his face with his arm, but sensing that the messanger
was also waiting, he decided to contribute information.
“My troops are ready and waiting for your command, my lord” he grunted. The
hooded face rose slightly, but still no face was seen.
“How many” the messanger barked.
“A thousand my Lord, as you ordered. Another two thousand are preparing for the
next wave of attack.” Ozlug waited for a response. He hated grovelling before this
creature, but one day he would be more powerful. All would respect him or die.

“Good” murmered the messanger. “The dark lord wishes you to attack Minas Tirith at
once. A seperate attack is already heading for the city of the elves.
The king has become weak and his people are beginning to turn against him. Now is
the perfect time to attack. You will take over the city, kill all who oppose you, destroy
all buildings and capture the king alive if possible. Your job will be made easier. The
dark lord has employed someone to stir up trouble and confusion. From what I hear,
she appears to be doing a good job. Her name is Brooke, you will not harm her.” He
stopped to see if the Orc was following his stream of instructions.
“As you wish my lord, as long as she does not interfere with my orders” Ozlug
replied, knowing exactly what the messanger wished to hear. Once he was away from
the dark palace in charge of an army of 1,000 Orcs, he could do as he wished.
“Then go” The hooded messanger ordered “and do not fail.”
Ozlug bowed low and scurried away. At last, he would have the oppotunity to kill
again. His Orcs would respond well for the promise of man-flesh to eat.
And nothing... would stop him.
Subject: not the best first meeting


Author:
ryna and sam
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Date Posted: 15:37:31 06/22/02 Sat
“Adventures shall we have, me and you, Ryna and Quoth. Sounds good doesn’t it.”
“Aye my lady but let us depart, hunger seems to be a looming.”
“I think it is time for lunch anyway” so Ryna and Quoth headed back towards the palace. Upon the girl’s right shoulder, the place where he felt most comfortable, Quoth watched the landscape and talked non-stop.

“Ryna! Where have you been? I’ve been worried si-. What is that on your shoulder?”
“Daddy let me introduce you to Quoth, Quoth,” said Ryna looking at the black raven, “this is my dad.”
“Take it out of here, Ryna. It’s vermin! Full of germs. You’ll catch all sorts!”
“But daddy, he’s perfectly clean and-“
“These birds are vicious Ryna.”
Quoth felt these were unwarranted insults and could not stand to be silent any longer, he had to speak up.
“Woe to thee – most ill-favoured malapet!” he quacked. “Verily dost thou show how abject be the parenty of thine wits! No ornament or flower may this morsel be, yet mine eye findeth no delectation in thine own straggled visage! Thou hast the semblance of a wormy turnip which yea, even the famined wild hog wouldst snub.”
Sam gaped at the bird. “You do seem a magnet for weird things Ryna. He seems to have a weird language. Where did you find him anyway?”
“I’ll teach him our language, he’ll learn quick. I found him outside by the woods.”
“He might be someone else’s pet.”
“Well if he is then they didn’t look after him very well. He’ll give me something to do and someone to talk to. Please let me keep him daddy.” Ryna looked up at her father with those practiced puppy dog eyes. “Pleeeeeease.”
Subject: A Great Mess


Author:
Sahrien
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Date Posted: 02:17:35 06/23/02 Sun
Sahrien walked through the crowed city streets. Dust and voices clouded the air, though she was outside, it felt as if she was closed in on all sides. But even as the dust and debris had stained most of the other people's clothes and faces, making them look like dirty little children, Sahrien's beauty still shone through the dirt that smeared on her cheek. Her large, almond shaped green eyes surveyed the hopelessly crowded streets of the city. Her long black, curly hair was unbound, and fell down to the small of her back in large, soft riglets at the ends. Her exotic eyes and darkly tanned skin set her apart from the local residents, and earned her many curious stares from people she passed by. But she had grown used to the enquiring eyes upon her in the past few months she had spent in the city. Too small and exotic to be an elf, too tall to be a dwarf, but not human. No one besides Legolas and Faeirex new what Faeries were, and that Sahrien and her siblings were of that race. So, she tried to ignore the puzzled looks from residents and the overly-interested stares from the soldiers and young men.

Sahrien had nearly given up the search for her brother, Arracus, whom she was supposed to meet in the city at noon, when suddenly she heard some sort of commotion going on behind her. She turned to see a crowd of people huddled around one of the stalls. She wove her way through the curious onlookers to the front. From what she could gather, a young man had upset one of the stalls and caused a great mess, severly damaging the stall, and it's contents. A woman, quite obviously the owner of the now destroyed stall, was yelling at the culprit. Sahrien looked at the young man, his green eyes wide with panic, his floppy blonde hair rustling a bit in the breeze, he was only a boy, and this was probably all a large accident. She smiled, this she could fix.

She stepped into the circle the crowd had made around the woman and the boy, "Excuse me," she asked, her voice sounding almost musical compared to the shreaks of the angry stall owner, "Perhaps I can help." The screaming woman went silent, as did the crowd.
"Help?" the woman said, "You'd have to be richer than the King himself to repair this damage!" the woman looked once again in the direction of the scared young man, "No thanks to this little troublemaker. I'm taking you to one of tha palace guards, and have you thrown in the dungeon! That'll teach you good enough!" The woman stormed towards the boy, a few strong men in the crowd grabbed him by the arms and lifted him up before he knew what was happening. Sahrien's eyes widened, she had to do something, "Stop!" she yelled. The crowd went silent. She walked calmly up to one of the men holding the now terrified young man, "Let the boy go, please," she said, rather quietly. Though Sahrien was barely 5 feet tall, and this man a towering giant in comparison, he agreed. Gently, he set the boy to the ground and let go of his arms. Sahrien nodded and mouthed a silent "Thankyou" to the man, "Back away, please! Away, all of you!" she yelled to the now astonished onlookers. Obediantly, the crowd receeded. Sahrien strided up to the puzzled stall-owner as she drew a few gold coins from her purse. She handed them to the woman, "I trust this will fix the damage. Now, take it and leave the boy, he meant you no harm," the baffled woman took the coins, still staring at Sahrien in disbelief, "As for the rest of you!" Sahrien continued, "Leave! There is nothing more for you to see. You heard me, away with all of you. Let this woman and this boy be!" The crowd stalled for a few minutes and reluctantly went about their daily business. Sahrien laughed inwardly, this would be talked about in gossip cirlces for weeks, if not months. This crowd was always hungry for entertainment.

Sahrien turned to the astonished young man, still reeling from the events of the past ten minutes. She smiled, "My name is Sahrien," she said warmly, her musical voice charming the bewilderment out of the boy, he visibly relaxed a little, "These streets are brutal, you must know your way about or you will find yourself in trouble, as you did. I take it you are new to the city," she said, laughing a little. The boy blushed slightly. She grabbed his arm, "Come, walk with me whilst I search for my brother, and you can tell me all about yourself. But first, I shall tell you my name, my name is Sahrien. What is your's?"
Subject: Waiting


Author:
Aragorn
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Date Posted: 11:43:14 06/23/02 Sun
He sat, alone, in the darkness. His head throbbed and the uneven stone of the floor cut through the material of his now hopelessly soiled garments.

The king had woken in the blackness of this cell; a trickle of sticky blood oozing from one temple, the smell of stale urine and rotting flesh strong in his nose. He had stood up immediately but the dizziness that followed had forced him to resume this sitting position and so he sat and waited.

What had happened was still a mystery to him so Aragorn focused instead on what was happening now. The situation must be assessed; an escape route, if there was one, planned. He rose, the sickness gone and felt his way carefully towards one of the walls he could not see. His fingers found the damp granite and he moved slowly along it until he found the place it joined the gate. The iron bars were rusty and he felt them flake under his hands. An opporunity perhaps. But as he felt the rest of the barrier he knew the hope to be a futile one. The rust was less than a year old and the other rods were solid. There was no escape from this hell he had created for himself.

He felt his way round the other two walls, his hands recoiling from every moist growth on their surfaces. His search complete he resumed his place on the floor dejectedly. His cell was perhaps six foot square. No windows adorned its walls and the only exit was by the iron door way through which he had entered. It seemed as though he was going to be here a very long time.

He was reaching up in an attempt to stop the blood that still leaked from his forhead when the cheerful voice came through one of the walls.
"Hi! You're new aren't you. So am I? What are you in for? I'm in for stealing. It's awful down here isn't it? I don't like it one bit. What's your name? Mine's Derek."
"Sam," Aragorn lied before adding, "You ask alot of questions for one who it is likly will never see the light of day again."
"Oh, I don't believe that. I'll be out soon enough. The king will free me I can just feel it."
"I wouldn't place to high a hope on that my friend if I were you."
"That's what I keep telling him," a somewhat more subdued voice remarked from his other side. "But that one won't listen. The king this and the king that. He never shuts up about the flaming king. Give it a rest for pity's sake."
"Oh why don't you give it a rest?" Derek called back. "Always moaning and complaining. Sam here doesn't want to listen to your belly aching. Not when he's going to be rescued soon along with me."
"Give it up lad. You've been in here for two years and your wonderful king hasn't lifted a finger to get you out so far, has he?"
"You've been in here for two years?" Aragorn whispered. "What did you steal?"
"I can't quite remember," Derek admitted. "Probably some kind of food. Oh wait, it was an apple from Old Man Oak."
"And you?" the king turned to the other man he could not see."
"Vandalism. Some soldiers were riding through our town as I was playing catch with my son in the square. I threw the ball too hard and in the wrong direction. It hit the statue of the king that stands in its center. The nose snapped off and I was convicted of vandalism."
"Don't worry Masters. The king'll get you out too."
"Yer sure. And I'm a duke."

The two other prisoners fell silent and Aragorn lay down in the cell between the apple stealer and the statue smasher. He felt the drip of blood from above his eyebrow drip down his cheek and mix with the salt water from his eyes.

The king will save us.

How can he, Aragorn reflected bitterly, when he can't even save himself?
Subject: Puzzled


Author:
Faramir
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Date Posted: 20:34:36 06/23/02 Sun
Faramir twisted a strand of his ash blonde hair around his finger, before unwinding it, and beginning the whole process again.

It just didn't make sense.

One moment him and Aragorn had been speaking to the prisoners, the next the King was tearing out the dungeons as if all of Angband was chasing him. After Faramir had emerged from the gloom, Elessar was no-where to be seen.

In his place, where several fires. Fortunately, the only real damage had been done to the hours of paperwork Faramir had completed, and had placed on the King's desk that morning. Still, there was something odd about the whole affair.

Dismissing all these unanswerable questions from his head, Faramir realised the time. Lunch would almost be over, and his lack of breakfast made him even hungrier. Rising from the low chair in his room, in which he sat, Faramir made his way down the winding passages. Anyway, he was expecting the arrival of King Eomer today, and he would have to inquire about that. He expected Aragorn would have forgotten anyway...
Subject: Gratitude


Author:
Harion
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Date Posted: 19:57:06 06/24/02 Mon
Harion walked stiffly at first, practically dragged along by the arm. Gradually he
began to relax as he listened to Sahrien’s friendly chatter. He told her his name and a
little about life back home. Only when she asked about his parents did he stop. He
closed his eyes and imagined his mother’s face, reheard her scream. He forced his
eyes open again and stared at the floor. “My mother...my mother’s dead.” he said at
last in a dull voice. “My father couldn’t cope, he loved her so much, and her death
came as a shock, especially with the famine and the raids. He’s ill now, my sister and
I run the household.”

Sahrien was silent, compassionate. Harion found himself telling her information that
had been proudly kept within the family. “All the money ran out, and we had no
produce left to sell. The debts have been steadily rising, and we can’t pay them. The
landlord has shown us no pity. He sent his men to take our furniture, our farming
tools. If we do not pay soon, he will take the farm, perhaps even sell my younger
sisters into slavery to repay what we owe. That’s why I’ve come to the city. I must
find a job and send money home as soon as possible. I think I'll start looking immediantly.”

The narrow cobbled streets wound around the city, like a maze of tunnels. Time
passed and there was still no sign of Sahrien’s brother. Harion even found he could
laugh about his experiences in the marketplace. “She must have known that I was new
to the city. Farming I can cope with. I know the dangers: drought... wolf attacks...
raids...hard labour and hunger, I can deal with all them. Yet storekeepers are beyond
me!” Sahrien laughed too, a musical sound amongst the busy city streets.

Suddenly Harion stopped again, turning to look into Sahrien’s eyes. “How can I thank
you properly?” he asked “If you hadn’t helped me, I would be in serious trouble, How I can ever repay you?”
Subject: Awaiting Nightfall


Author:
Brooke
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Date Posted: 21:15:14 06/24/02 Mon
Brooke looked down at the training grounds they were a mess everyone was running around triyng to figure things out.

The two elves were talking to soldiers who swore they saw the king set of the ice fires. Aperantly the elves were having a hard time believing the soldiers.

" I am tired of waiting until nightfall." she said.
Whitemoon looked at her. " what are you planning to do now? have you not caused enough trouble already?"
" I am not going to set up more fires i just want to have
some fun with the elves."
" What kind of fun." Whitemoon asked not liking the smile
that had appeared in brookes face.
" nothing that will get them killed. It's something more along the lines of anoiyng them." Before whitemoon could
say anything she glided down keeping to the shadows. The soldiers they had been speaking to left and the elves started talking to each other. It was a good thing that this time she had brought her pack with her and not left
it in the hide out in the woods. She took it off opened it and looked for something that would serve her purpose.
It was not long until she founded. She had bought the item
from a merchant in the last town she had stopped at before
coming to Minas Tirith. It was a dust that apperantly
called flies. She left her pack in the shadows and flew
upwards and towards the elves. Once she was on top of where they stood she let some dust drop. ' Now if i remember right
only a small amount of this dust calls at least ten of them'
she thought ' how many would all the dust call?'
She decided to find out and dropped the entire supply on them. They were covered in a white cloud of dust for
five seconds. not long after the dust had completely
dissapeared she heard a high buzzing and it seemed that all the flies of the city sourrounded the elves while they tried to make them leave. Whitemoon joined her. After watching the elves try to fight of the flies for about ten minutes he truly started pitiyng the elves. " Brooke as funny as this is to you i think it is time to call them off.
You have the repelent right?"
" Yes i do and i think your right." she took out another pouch. This time it had blue dust in it. She let all of it
drop on the elves this time covering them in a cloud of blue dust.The flies idmediatly retreated flying of in different directions. " Now what else can i do to the mighty elves?" " I suppose leaving them alone does not qualify?" whitemoon asked. " Not just yet. I am having to much fun." The elves started looking around. " I think they know someone they can't see is here brooke." " Good for them if they are not ignorant they will soon find out who would make them look like fools." The elves started walking away. Brooke decided to intercept them. She landed in front of them and tripped both of them. They went sprawling to the ground.She flew up into the air. " And last but not least." She said as she threw another kind of dust on top of them. It formed into a storm cloud and rain started
pouring down on them. "I Think that is enough for one day."
She flew back to where she had been seating waiting to see how they handled the storm cloud.

Whitemoon layed down beside her and closed his eyes." Make it leave brooke you know that it will not go away unless the one who made it tells it too." Brooke sighted " You always have to spoil my fun." She waved her hand and the storm cloud disapeared leaving the elves and everyone else more confused then before.
Subject: A plan


Author:
Aragorn
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Date Posted: 09:04:01 06/25/02 Tue
His head rested against the iron bars that separated him from freedom.

"Sam, were you at the coranation?" Derek's seemingly unquenchable enthusiasm had finally died and the voice that came, muffled through Aragorn's wall, was low and dejected.
"Yes, I was," he answered his tone identical.
"It must have been wonderful." Derek was obviously perking up again. "I couldn't get in but I can imagine what it was like." He paused and then said, "what was it like?"
Aragorn forced himself to laugh. "I thought you could imagine."
"Please."
A silence, then:

"The king wore robes of white. The people cheered as Mithrandir placed the winged helm of Gondor upon his head to the sound of trumpets and through the delicate fragrence of rose petals." Derek sighed blissfully and Aragorn continued once more. "The king made alot of promises that day, about how everything was going to change. I think he even believed them then."
"What do you mean by that?"
"Nothing has changed," Elessar snarled. "Everything is the same as it used to be. We will never be the white city. I know that now though I did not then."

A subdued silence followed this outburst.

"I think you're wrong."
The king smiled slightly, "you would."
"No, just listen. The king is a good man." A snort of unhumourous laughter from the other side of the wall. "He just needs to know what is going on in his kingdom. You have to trust; you have to believe in the general nobility of people."
"That belief died when I was thrown in here, my friend. You should not be rotting here after stealing an apple!"
"Well if that is all you have seen here I cannot help you."
"Derek, I can't see anything. That is the way in pitch darkness."
But Derek was silent.
"Derek, I'm sorry."
No answer.
"What should I have seen? Tell me!"

He moved his face around the bars slightly as a wind whispered down the corridor and was rewarded by a scratch from the rust covered pole he was leaning against. In anger he swore under his breath and lashed out at it. More rust broke away and the bar shivered.

Gently he probed the bottom of the bar. It appeared to be hollow and down near the join it had mostly rusted away. He moved his fingers up to the top of the pole. Here too it was weak. He tried the next bar along but it was sturdy and showed no sign of similiar rusting. So there was no way he could create a hole large enough to escape through. At best he might be able to do something with that, one pole.

As Vomyr's voice crept through the murky depths of the prison bowls Aragorn felt the faint tug of a plan pull at his mind.
Subject: Theories


Author:
Legolas and Faeirex
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Date Posted: 10:41:30 06/25/02 Tue
Faeirex lay on the ground for a few moments, staring up at the sky where clouds had been a moment before. Puzzlement and anger fought for control of her face, before both were driven away by a new emotion- amusement. Without warning, she began to giggle incessantly. Legolas sat up and looked at her as if she was mad. The sight of the aggrieved expression on his face only served to make her laugh harder.

Finally he could take it no more. Frankly, Lómódë was beginning to appear hysterical. He was a little worried that the recent events might have shaken the highly-strung elf out of her wits entirely. There were many things he was feeling at the moment, but not one even came close to mirth.
"Are you going to tell me just what's quite so funny?" he demanded eventually.
She sat up also and took a deep breath, cloaking herself once more in an unnatural calm. It was belied only by the suppressed shaking of her shoulders and dancing eyes, which suggested the fit was still going on beneath her tranquil mask.
"All this." she told him, gesturing to the scene surrounding them. At the wet ground and the smouldering timber.
He glared. Legolas had the natural grace of a cat. Throw almost anything at him, and he would land on his feet, ready to fight.
But he hated getting wet. In some way, the mysterious troublemaker had bruised his dignity.
"I'm afraid I still can't see the joke."

"It doesn't mean anything." she explained, the giggles beginning to start again. "All this was just for show."
"I don't understand."
"Look around. The flames were hot- they burnt the buildings- but not a single flame actually came close enough to burn a human. Doesn't that strike you as odd?
Whoever it was didn't actually want to hurt people. They just wanted to scare us."
His face was thoughtful. "Maybe you're right. But that help much. Whoever it was is probably still lurking here, and they may attack again."
"Oh, I'm certain they will." Her tone was totally calm as she considered the possibility.
"So shouldn't we be trying to find out who it was?"
"Not really. They'll be back. Right now, they don't want to be found. They met with power here that they weren't expecting, and they need to regroup. Why waste time and energy looking? They'll show themself when the time is right."
"So you're just going to let someone with that much power run around Minas Tirith in the meantime." he said flatly.
"I told you, they're not a threat. Nothing I can't cope with."
"Just how did you come to that conclusion?"
"This. Someone playing silly tricks. It's the sort of stuff that I might have done- would still do actually," she confessed. "But if someone is going to waste that kind of magic on childish jokes, they obviously don't know what they're dealing with. It's probably a hired troublemaker. Don't worry, they won't pose much of a problem."

Despite his discomfort, Legolas found himself listening to her. She sounded so matter-of-fact and assured. Gradually, the annoyed expression on his face gave way to one of resignment.
"Done complaining now?" she asked brightly, standing up and shaking dirt from the wet cloth of her gown. "You really should find a change of clothes. I don't know if you'd noticed, but yours are a little damp..."

He glared.
Subject: An apology


Author:
Namün and Madjael
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Date Posted: 11:38:43 06/25/02 Tue
It wasn't until the smell of smoke reached her nose that Namün began to pay attention to the shouts from outside. She dressed hurriedly, curious as to what was the cause of her trouble. In a city built mainly of stone, fire was not a common occurence.
Buttoning her blouse as she went, she hurried along the palace corridors, nearly bumping into a soldier as she rounded a corner. He turned sharply to berate her, then stopped, perhaps recognising her face. She took advantage of the moment.
"Please, what's going on?"
"There was a fire. But don't worry miss, it's under control now."
He definitely recognised her. No soldier ever treated a servant girl with that amount of courtesy without good reason. She also noticed him looking curiously at her reddened eyes, which still betrayed her earlier tears. She blushed and muttered "Thank-you" before passing on.

Now that she had been assured any danger had past though, she wasn't sure what to do. There was work to be done, but she didn't want to have to face Mirwan again at the moment. And she was still too angry with her lover to want to find him.
Yet inside her was another emotion, the niggling feeling of guilt. For some reason, she felt bad about her behaviour towards Madjael. She couldn’t really blame him for the way he’d behaved, it was just who he was. Shouting at him hadn’t helped.
After all, she had hurt him. But time had passed, and he’d had time to heal. It might be nice if they could bury the hatchet and perhaps become friends again. Unfortunately, he was so stubborn, he would never make the first move. She was stubborn too, but becoming less so. She was being forced to mature. The apology would have to come from her.
Making up her mind, she decided to try his room first. It was unlikely he would be there at this time of day, but she wasn’t sure where else he would be either. She knocked on the door.
"Madjael? Are you in there? It’s me- Namün. Can I come in?"

The noise jolted him awake. He sat bolt upright in the semi-darkness of his room, looking around him.
Anawiel was gone. Her pile of clothes had disappeared, not a trace of her was left to be seen. Madjael caught his throbbing head in his hands, letting out a small sob barely audible.
What was he supposed to do? He couldn't face Namün now. Not after that. His face burned crimson at the mere thought of what Namün would say if she knew, if she could tell the moment he opened the door. She'd just hate him even more
Madjael cleared his throat.
"Come in."

She pushed the door open softly and stepped in, blinking as her eyes adjusted to the darkness. She took the scene in quickly, yet it didn't surprise her for some reason. She'd broken the bond between them; he was free to do whatever he wished.
Still, he looked embarassed. Not wanting to make the meeting any more uncomfortable than it already was, she tried to pretend she hadn't noticed. Instead, she took a deep breath and tried to say what she had come for.
"I need to apologise for shouting at you before. You didn't deserve it, not really. I had no right to take my feelings out on you."

He could tell by the way her eyes flitted across the room that she knew. Instantly. Madjael tried to hide his reddening face.
"You don't have to apologise for anything. I get feelings taken out on me a lot nowadays."
His voice was cold and cutting, trying to freeze all his memories of her out of his mind. But they overwhelmed him, choking his thoughts.
"And I don't want your apology, your pity anyway. It's not for me - it's to make yourself feel better, Namün."
He fixed her gaze with steady eyes, "And you know it as well as I do."

She felt her anger rising, and replied hotly. "If I wanted to make myself feel better, do you really think I'd choose to do so by admitting I was wrong? By coming in here so you could insult me and make things even worse than they already are? Don't flatter yourself Madjael."

"Namün, please," he spoke with a deadly patience as if talking to a young child, "Please just leave me alone. I can't..."
His voice almost cracked at that point. Everything he had ever felt for Namün was crowding into his head, muddled with Anawiel his friend and the Anawiel he'd been with earlier.
Namün no longer seemed as angry, but was looking at him oddly.
"I can't do this anymore." He finished quietly. "I can't talk to you, or be near you, or even be nice to you, because I can only think about how badly I am still in love with you."

He shook his head and added bitterly, "And all the while you're off with the king." Madjael reached for a white shirt, yanking it over his head. He dragged on brown leggings, before standing up to look at Namün directly.
"I have to go to training now. Is there anything else you wish to say to me?"
Subject: Following


Author:
The silent watcher
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Date Posted: 14:17:03 06/25/02 Tue
He watched the flies surround her after the fires die. He watched the clouds form and then melt away leaving her laughing on the ground.

This was not acceptable.

His dark robe swirling around him, the watcher detatched himself from the shadows and followed the distorted air that signified the concealed person rapidly departing towards the woods.

There were some who turned to look at him as he passed but he waved their curiousity away, making them focus on anything other than his dark form, leaving them with no knowledge of his passing.

This was the way to avoid notice. Not by some illusion that could be easily detected by any worth hiding from. The woman was obviously an amateur. Why the dark lord had chosen her for this post he would never understand.

For amateur, however, she was doing remarkably well. On all but this count. He strode purposefully into the woods before halting and calling out to her, his voice quiet but direct. "I know you're there. Please reveal yourself. I don't wish to threaten but it will be far less painful if you do so quickly."
Subject: Honour


Author:
Anyone in the training grounds
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Date Posted: 14:55:20 06/25/02 Tue
Keth turned his head as Lómódë emerged from the barracks, combing her fingers through her still-damp hair. She had chosen to borrow breeches and a shirt from Falden, the youth closest to her in height and build, rather than go back up to the palace for a change of clothes, explaining that she didn't really feel comfortable in dresses anyway. Privately, Keth agreed. She looked far more approachable dressed as they were, with unbound hair falling uncontrolled wherever it pleased and a smudge of ash on one cheek, accentuating her carved cheekbones and delicate nose. Legolas too looked less like an elven prince and more like a handsome young warrior in the modest garb. With the change in attire seemed to have come a change in his attitude as well- he was more relaxed around them, more willing to laugh and joke.

It didn't take long for Lómódë to involve herself in a heated discussion with Targan on the merits of footed arrows over rankling arrows. Surprisingly, the girl knew what she was talking about. Even more surprisingly, she was managing to out-argue the great talker himself. Targan was struggling, and realised it. His attack turned to defence, then simply a desparate struggle to save face under her barrage of words. Keth smiled at the sight. Targan was his friend, but Gods, he deserved being taken down a peg or two sometimes.
Finally Targan gave in.
"I admit it. You win."
He paused, then looked back slyly.
"Windbag."

She looked at him in mock outrage amidst laughter.
"Are you going to let him get away with that?" Keth teased Legolas. "Aren't you supposed to be defending her honour?"
"What honour?" he laughed, before adding slightly more seriously, "Do you think she'd thank me for it?"
He cast a glance at her out of the corner of his eye. "My Lady here would probably have my ears if I tried to defend her."
"Coward." Keth jibed.
"Not a coward, just prudent. I know what's bravery, and what's just folly. Upsetting her is just stupidity."
"I'm more than capable of defending my own honour if necessary." Lómódë spoke up, scowling at the pair of them.
"Is that so milady? You care to prove it?"
"Of course!"
"Fine then, you can duel Keth." spoke up Sircyn. "He'd beaten most of us by the time the fires started; he can be our champion."
"And if I beat him?"
"Why, you will have the pleasure of beating me." Keth told her, raising her hand to his lips to kiss it.
"If you win?"
He decided to try his luck. "I get to take you out for dinner."

Legolas glowered silently at the cries of 'Not fair!' from the other warriors. Why did Lómódë not seem to mind the dark-haired Keth's shameless flattery? Whatever he said to her, she never turned a hair.
"Then I must ensure that I don't fail." she smiled, reclaiming her hand. She looked around at the others.
"I'll need a sword."
Subject: Follower


Author:
Brooke
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Date Posted: 20:37:21 06/25/02 Tue
Brooke watched the female elf start laughing after
what she had done. " I don't think you annoyed her
brooke. I can not say that for the other elf.
He looks quite mad."

" At least i succeded in annoyng him. Funny though i never thought elves had a sence of humor.
I will annoy them more later. We better get back to the woods. she got up and launched herself into the air. Whitemoon followed her. After a while whitemoon spoke.
" we are being followed brooke."
" Yes i know. I felt his presence. He might be able
to hide from humans and perhaps the elves but not
you or me. What do you think he want's?" brooke asked
whitemoon. " I do believe he is working for the dark lord too." " So if he is following us maybe he has a complain of how i work. At least i have managed to keep Minas Tirith
from looking towards mordor. Can't say the same for him."

She landed on a tree and waited. " I know you're there. Please reveal yourself. I don't wish to threaten but it will be far less painful if you do so quickly." the stranger said.

" It will be far less painful? so you are telling me
that if i don't reveal myself you will hurt me but if
i do it quickly you won't hurt me much. is that what you are triyng to say?.
I really think you should be more careful when you follow someone. What makes you think i'm alone? I have someone here who can tear you to picess as fast as the wind passes
if you try to hurt me. He is hunreds of years older than you and far stronger too.
and although he hates hurting people if you try anything that might include hurting me he will not hesitate in destroiyng you."

" take her warning seriously stranger. You wish to talk to her very well talk to her. But becareful of what you do.
Go on brooke reveal yourself."

Brooke glided down and let her illusion drop as she landed
in front of the stranger. Very well you wish to talk to me
go on and talk i am listening."
Subject: Love


Author:
Namün and Madjael
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Date Posted: 22:22:02 06/25/02 Tue
She couldn't say anything for a while, just looked at him dumbly. He was in love with her?

"What am I supposed to say?" she demanded.
This was the last thing she'd have expected from Madjael. Their time together had been intense and deeply passionate, but she had never felt the deeper bonds of love forming between them. She wasn't even sure if he'd been faithful to her during their relationship, and had chosen not to ask. Some things were better left unknown. Perhaps this would have been better left unknown. She wasn't sure of how to react, or of what to feel. Why now, after all this time?

He stood, anger building inside of him for no apparent reasoning. "You're supposed to tell me I'm lying," Madjael growled " Or tell me you don't love me. Tell me you're in love with the king. Tell me you hate me. Anything! As long as it is not a lie, then say it, Namün. And mean it."

He put on his green boots, mainly to avoid her face. "Or," he spoke slowly again, "You can walk out of here and forget this ever happened."

Madjael knew she didn't love him. Couldn't love him even if she tried. He had almost added "And leave me like you did before" but he had said too much and did not want to cross over into the broken-heartedness that would come if Namün did not tell him the truth. He had never felt so vunerable in his lifetime.

"I can't walk out of here, you know that. I can't just run away. We have to talk about this.
Why didn't you ever say anything before?"

"It doesn't matter! You didn't care then why should you care now? And anyway," he had to hold himself back from yelling, "it makes no difference! All I want is your answer then I can live my life again!"
Madjael shook his head bitterly. "Why can't you see that?" He stood up suddenly, adding quietly :
"I have to go to training." And made for the door, pushing past Namün.

"Don't you dare leave!"
She span around, catching hold of his arm. "You can't just tell me something like this and walk out! Don't say it doesn't matter, because it matters to me!"
He shook her arm away and she realised she was shouting. When she continued, her voice was little more than a whisper.
"I don't know what I think, and I don't know what I feel. Yes, I love Aragorn. But I don't even know if we still have a relationship, or a future. And I don't hate you either. I do care, no matter what you may think. You were a part of my life for such a long time, and I can't cut you out of that. I missed you, and I still do. I needed you so much, but you weren't there. And that was my fault."
She looked up at him, lip quivering. "I've changed too much to go back. What they did to me- I'll never be able to escape it. I'm a different person now Madjael. Maybe I'm not the person you loved any more. But what are you going to do? Just disappear from my life entirely? Show up and tell me this, then vanish?" Like I did to you.
"I'm so confused, and I don't know what to do. I don't know how to make everything right again."

Madjael stared at the floor. At least she admitted it was her fault, he thought numbly.
"I don't know. I don't know how anything can ever be right between use, I don't think it ever can, I don't think we have a future and I have to go to training. "
Namün glared at him under narrowed eyebrows causing Madjael to gulp half in terror and half because he wasn't sure what else to say to her.
"We do need to talk though. But here is neither the time or the place and if I stay here any longer I could lose my job."
Namün narrowed her eyes further searching his face. "Seriously. I'll meet you in the Rusty Chain tavern at 6 o'Clock."
And with that he left, before she could say anything to make him stay.
Subject: A warning


Author:
The silent watcher
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Date Posted: 10:38:23 06/26/02 Wed
"I do believe you are threatening me. How drole in an annoying sort of way. My dear little girl you obviously have no idea who I am, which is fortunate for you or you'd already be dead."

He scrutinised her carefully through the folds of his hood. This one was no more than a child, but as for the one she spoke of...

"I suggest your friend reveal himself too." A low growl rumbled from the undergrowth. "Oh come now. For this to be sporting all the players must arrive on the pitch."
A large white animal appeared next to the girl.
"And so the plot thickens," he murmered. "A windwalker? I thought you were all extinct. But then you," he turned to the other "if my eyes do not decieve me, are a feairalev. That explains why you hate her so much..." He moved off muttering under his breath.

"What explains..."
"My dear child, stop speaking unless you are spoken to." He whirled, slender fingers protruding from his cloak. As they closed around the air, Brooke started to choke.
"This is but a small demonstration of my power. You can be anywhere at any time and I do not need to move my hands. On the occasion that you speak of our meeting this is what will happen to you." The wolf growled at him again and the dark one realeased his companions throat.
"You only saw me arriving today because I wished it. Do not seek to rise above your place.

"The reason I sought you out today was not to reprimand you sevearly. Infact you have been working remarkly well and I commend you for it. However there is one area on which we must seek to edit your approach. The female elf you delight in tormenting, you know the one? Just nod."
She nodded.
"This tormention must end. She must be left alone. Do I make myself clear?

"Good. Now, I have some urgent business to attend to. Do not under any circumstances try to seek me out; I will contact you again."
Subject: Mettings


Author:
Brooke
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Date Posted: 21:21:14 06/26/02 Wed
Brooke watched the stranger until he dissapeared from sight.
" Who does he think he is! talking to me like if i were a child. Why i ought to..."
" Brooke stop that do not act to quickly. He must have a reason to ask you to stop bothering the elf and beside you are a child in your kins reckoning and mine."
" Do you have to remind me? But he isn't my guardian you are. And he didn't ask me he ordered me to stop badgering the elf why that no good rotten.." " Brooke i told you that is enough. He is very powerful i sensed that. Not as powerful as me but powerful enough to be a challenge for me in battle i do not wish to fight him any time soon. So calm down" Brooke breathed in deep and let it out. " I'm calm but if he thinks he is going to get away with ordering me around he is highly mistaken. But for now i have other things to attend too. She flew into the air placing her illusion around her and whitemoon again.
" I am going to find that witch and tell her to decide fast i hate owing anyone a favor especially when i have not had to do it since i was born."

She was flying above the training grounds when a certain person caught her eye. " Well i didn't even have to look for her she's right there." " Brooke she is looking at us."
" I know. I let my illusion weaken so that she would easily spot us. Now to talk to her." Before she could go down whitemoon got in front of her. " With your illusion this weak everyone there will be able to see us and you don't exacly look like a human. Up close you can not disguise your wings much nor your eyes."
" Who cares. Besides you know that when i'm alert i can't be captured." She let her illusion drop and flew past whitemoon. She landed a few feet from where the witch stood. Whitemoon landed beside her. Everyone in the training ground stopped and looked at her and whitemoon.
Brooke paid them no heed. Instead she looked at the witch. " Alright witch here's how things are. You catched me and since my kin took an oath a long time ago that if we were ever catched we would do a favor for that person as long as it was with in our power. So go on decide what you wan't and do it fast i have other things to attend to."
She heard whitemoon start to growl. She turned to see the two elves walking towards them. She turned her atention towards the witch again ignoring the elves existence.
" Hurry up i don't have time to waste witch."
Subject: A duel


Author:
Faeirex and Keth
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Date Posted: 11:35:44 06/27/02 Thu
Faeirex carefully examined the swords offered to her, weighing each in her hands. She looked speculatively at Keth. Not only was he taller than her, but heavier and stronger as well. He would have a definite weight advantage.
So there was no point in picking a large sword that she would not only have to struggle to lift, but would also slow her down. Her superior speed was going to be her greatest asset here. Thoughtfully, she picked up the lightest weapon. It was little more than a rapier, sharp-edged and quick to bite. She would have to be careful not to cut him. The weight however was perfect. The sword melted into her arm as if it were little more than an extension to the limb.
"This will do."

Keth waited idly for her to reach a decision, casually swinging his longsword back and forth between his hands. He was already pondering on the possible outcomes of the duel. Lómódë was certainly very lovely, but she was equally certainly totally unavailable. No matter what, he couldn't allow any feelings other than comradeship to develop for her. She was a girl who could break a heart in the time it took her to fire an arrow, and he couldn't afford to let that happen to him.

But that doesn't mean I want to kill her! he thought, eyes widening, when he saw the sword she had chosen. It was little more than a toothpick!
"You can't fight with that!" he said incredulously.
"Try me."
"Don't say I didn't warn you." he cautioned her.

*****

They assumed guard stances opposite each other, swords raised in a mock salute. As soon as the whistle sounded, Faeirex moved onto the attack. She had already judged that a defensive stance would be impossible- she lacked the strength to parry a lunge if he put all his weight behind it. But by attacking, and making her cuts quick enough to deny a riposte and keep him on the defensive, she should be able to force an opening to disarm him.

Gods, she was fast. Keth was young and fit, but his breath was ragged with the effort needed to block every one of those lightening cuts, and he hadn't even managed to get in a decent lunge yet. Every time he tried to counter, she had already moved, ducking neatly under the blade to attack from behind. Her fighting style was odd- recent fencing styles mixed with what were clearly older techniques that he wasn't familiar with. It was almost impossible to meet her, because he could never be sure what she would do next. Giving a muffled oath, he swang to meet another strike...

Her sword came down in a crown cut and he ducked, moving his weapon sharply up over his head to defend himself. The two hilts locked together and, seeing his oppurtunity, he stepped back quickly and stood again, using his superior height and strength to force the blades downwards. Her arms buckled under the strain and he bore down on her, seeing victory in his sights.
Her mind worked quickly, offering several different solutions to the problem. Wearing a mask of innocence Faeirex allowed herself to fall backwards to the floor, seemingly beaten. The sudden loss of pressure made him begin to fall forwards too. Again resorting to her speed and agility to save her, Faeirex continued her momentum and moved into a backwards roll, jerking her legs up between his and knocking him forwards. Rolling out from underneath him, she pulled the sword clear and flowed to her feet, slipping it into position over his neck as he hit the dust.
"Do you yield?"
Subject: An intruder


Author:
Faeirex
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Date Posted: 13:15:50 06/27/02 Thu
The sound of his hands meeting rang across the still training grounds, in a loud steady beat.
"Well fought. Well fought indeed."
The tall elf climbed over into the fencing area and offered his hand to the soldier on the floor. "You'll have to get up earlier than this my friend to get the better of her."
He smiled warmly and turned to the other. "And you, you liked the dresses? And yet you are not wearing one. Next time I shall get you a sword instead although it appears you have one already. One you are using to great advantage. It has been too long. How are you?"
She cast a glance at the crowd standing by, fully aware that there was little she could do about this unwelcome intruder. She couldn't get rid of him without having to answer some very awkward questions, and she doubted that he'd agree to go anyway. She kept her voice civil. "I am well enough." Motioning for him to step aside with her she hissed, "What are you doing here? You agreed to stay away from me!"
"That agreement was made on an understanding. That understanding has not been met therefore you get the pleasure of my lovely company. Besides," he winked rogishly "I missed you and an eternity spent without your insults has become rather dull. I'm really rather hurt that you are reacting this way."
"Drop the act." she snapped. "You're forgetting that I actually know you."
"The act? Again you wound me. Will it never end?" His eyes twinkled. "You haven't changed a bit. You're still the child I knew, but then I guess that's what I love about you."
"You haven't changed either. You're still the same arrogant, insufferable-"
He cut her off.
"We can list my virtues another time. Right now we need to talk."
"We are talking." He tried to take her hand but she flinched away.
"Properly." He rested his hand on her shoulder. "This is far too important for you to waste time in this fashion. Is there somewhere we can go where we won't be disturbed?"
She looked around, searching for an excuse but having none to give. "We can go to my rooms."
She looked over at Legolas apologetically, wishing she could explain, before turning back and beckoning for the visitor to follow her.
Subject: No Need for Gratitude


Author:
Sahrien
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Date Posted: 14:00:02 06/27/02 Thu
Sahrien listened patiently as Harion spoke of his family and their troubles. She felt pity for the boy, yet she also felt a sort of respect and admiration for him. To come to Minas Tirith, alone and so far from home, showed that he was strong, despite his young age. Sahrien quickly realised that this was perhaps the most in depth relationship she'd ever had with a human. She smiled inwardly. In thousands of years of walking the earth, she had never met a human before she came to Minas Tirith. Even then, she payed little attention to them. She thought of them as mice, running around in a frenzy as if the entire world was about to end, making everyday's conflict seem like a mighty war-- not to mention the short lifespan. I guess, though, she said to herself, it seems like such a short life to us immortal folk.

"...She must have known that I was new
to the city. Farming I can cope with. I know the dangers: drought... wolf attacks...
raids...hard labour and hunger, I can deal with all them. Yet storekeepers are beyond
me!" Harion said, bringing Sahrien out of her thoughts. She laughed at the joke, her light and carefree laugh. It made her eyes twinkle and her hair toss slightly. Suddenly, Harion stopped, “How can I thank
you properly?” he asked “If you hadn’t helped me, I would be in serious trouble, How I can ever repay you?” he said. Sahrien smiled, yet again that day.

"There is no need to thank me, dear boy. Perhaps, though, you could repay me with your friendship? It does become quite lonely, here. I, too am far away from my home and my people. I like you, Harion, you are a strong boy and will become a strong man, someday soon. Your father should be proud of you," she said. She watched his messy blonde hair toss slightly as the breeze blew, making the dust swirl in the streets and the voices of the people muffled. She did hope they could be friends.
Subject: Jealousy


Author:
Legolas
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Date Posted: 14:51:00 06/27/02 Thu
Legolas felt a sharp stab to his heart at the sight of the two elves talking together. He was not close enough to hear what they were saying, but it was clear the two knew each other very well indeed. He couldn't see Lómódë's face, only that of the handsome stranger, who was smiling broadly.
He saw the way the elf touched her intimately on the shoulder, and it made his soul ache. They must be lovers of some sort, perhaps in the past. But now he had come back to claim her. He had been sending her gifts, and she had never told him. What had she been going to do, just lead him on until the moment she was walking out the door?

He caught himself just in time. Of course, she hadn't been leading him on, had she? She had never given him any reason to think that she would ever be anything other than a friend. She was free to do whatever she wanted, and he had no hold over her affections whatsoever. If she loved this man and he could make her happy, he would have to accept it, and not try to stand in her way. Even try to look happy for her.

Gloomily, Legolas watched the couple leave. She looked back at him just once, and in her expression he thought he read an apology. Perhaps she had finally realised that she was breaking his heart.
Subject: Aralias


Author:
Faeirex
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Date Posted: 14:59:08 06/27/02 Thu
She slammed the door shut angrily, turning to confront the intruder with a storm of vituperation. Why now?
“Faeirex, will you just calm down and listen to me?”
She opened her mouth to reply, thought better of it, and sat down on her bed. For some reason, he always brought out the worst in her.
“What are you doing here?”
“You know full well what I’m doing here. I’m here to make sure you carry out your tasks like you’re supposed to, because right now it looks as if you’re not going to.”
She looked down, unable to meet his eyes. “I’ll do it. Eventually. Just give me a little time.”
“Time for what? Two weeks you were in the palace without even attempting to speak with Aragorn. Even when you did, you said nothing. We've been waiting two months.”
“I needed to prepare myself.”
“And now you’re prepared enough. It has to be now, or it will be too late.”
He held out the box he had been carrying to her. Sullenly, she opened it, shaking out the folds of the most beautiful dress she had ever seen. It was a rich blue colour, an exact match for the deep, starlit shade of her eyes. The tone she knew would set off her hair and skin to perfection. The tracery of embroidering on the bodice was done in finest mithril thread. A cluster of gemstones decorated the neckline at its lowest point, where they would lie snugly between her breasts. And just from the touch of it, she could tell it would cling to her body like a second skin, impossibly light, and flowing like water. A tiara fell into her lap. When she picked it up, it winked back at her with the same priceless glimmer. Faeirex touched the teardrop sapphire that would catch the light from the exact centre of her brow, ran a wondering finger along the intricate silvery loops that would hold her hair from her face, letting its coils fall down her back in a shimmering curtain.

With a sudden movement, she cast the trinket on to the floor. It rolled briefly, before falling onto the stone with a hollow clatter.
“I don’t need this. I didn’t need any of the others either. What were you thinking- that you could buy my obedience?”
“No! But I had to do something. It’s important that the people here respect you, and you weren’t making any effort to make them. This was the only way I could think of to help.” He smiled briefly. “I still know your size. They fit you perfectly. And I’ve saved the best one until last. It’s for tonight. I want you to dazzle them as if you were Varda herself. You’re even more beautiful than before, you know. Why won’t you use your looks to your advantage occasionally? I was just trying to give you a push in the right direction.”
“Well I didn’t want it. I don’t want any help from you. I’m not like you, Aralias. I can’t just use people the way you can. They’re not just there to be manipulated for my own purposes.”
“They’re mortal, Fae. They’re beneath us!”
Gods, she hated his arrogant attitude.
“They’re still people! How many times have you spoken to a human in your life? They have thoughts and feelings just like us. And maybe you could kill them, but I can’t.”
“You did it before.”
“And don’t think I haven’t regretted it ever since. Do you think I could go through it all again without it destroying me?”
“You have to. And you’re right. I could kill them. But I’m not Chosen. You are.” And the old jealousy in his voice was still here. Anger at her for being chosen for a task that he felt he was better suited for.
“And you’ve never really got over that, have you? Never forgiven me for being picked instead of you. Do you think I wouldn’t turn everything over to you if I had a choice?”
“Well you don’t have a choice. We’ve been through this before. Don’t forget that my father is dead because of you. The least you can do is see things through, so that I’ll know he didn’t die in vain.”
All colour faded from her cheeks. Aralias knew her weak spots, and he was using them cruelly against her to bully her into doing his bidding. And it was working.
“What right do you have to tell me what to do? We agreed to go our separate ways eight millennia ago, or had you forgotten that? What I do is no longer your concern!”
He stood up, towering over her. “I have every right Faeirex. It seems I’m not the only person to have forgotten things over the years. However much time has passed, I am still your brother!”
Tears entered her voice as she rose and screamed at him. “You haven’t even spoken to me for five thousand years! You went off and left me to face them alone! Don’t try to call yourself my brother!”
Subject: Sircyn


Author:
Sircyn
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Date Posted: 08:45:19 06/28/02 Fri
Sircyn watched the warrior's face as the elves left the fencing ring. "Forget her, Keth."
"What?"
"The woman, Lómódë. She's not for you."
"Advice? From you?"
"Drop it."
"You mean you're actually trying to help us grow? Usually you just bellow at me: 'Ten laps! Ten pressups!'"
"If you insist I'll have ten press-ups then."
"You can't be serious."
"Who's the general here? Now hurry before i make it twenty. And Keth," Sircyn knelt on the ground, down by the squatting warrior. "You did well. You just need to work on your upper blocks."
"And my entire techneque. She completely slaughtered me."
"You can't beat everyone. It's one of the more important lessons you must learn."
"What about you?"
"I always win. That's another lesson. Now," he said rising, "I'll have those press-ups from you now."
The man grinned at him and Sircyn moved away, nodding at some of the warriors, stopping to talk to others.

While his face remained expressionless with, each soldier he talked to his pride grew. When the fires had come none had panicked. They had stood their ground and remembered their training. Most of them were still extreamly green however, youths who had become soldiers inspired by the legend of King Elessar. The reality of war was quite different.

"Sircyn, run! It's too late for me."
"With all due respect I'm not leaving you, sir."
"Don't be a fool man, you know I can't abide them. Run."

His general had been killed that day and back in Gondor Sircyn had been promoted to a post he felt he did not deserve and could not fulfill. Over the years though he had grown to love the job and the men under him as the sons he had never had.

Tomorro, he decided, he would take some of them out to extinquish some of the remaining orc patrols. It would be good practice.
Subject: New Job


Author:
Harion
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Date Posted: 10:27:50 06/29/02 Sat
Harion grinned, "Thank you, I'd like that" He turned to see the sun's position in the sky.
"Time is getting on. I'd better go and start hunting for work. Or else, I'll be stuck out here overnight. I'll let you know where I'm staying, once I get a place." Sahrien smiled and waved as he walked off into the winding streets.

* * * * * * * *

Several hours later, Harion entered the dark and noisy Tavern. He wove his way in and out of the tables, avoiding the men in various stages of drunkenness. Finally he made his way to the bar at the back.
A girl at the bar smiled at him, her flaxen hair flowing down her back.
“Can I serve you sir?” she asked, her eyes sparkling with fun.
“I don’t want a drink...” Harion started, but the girl cut him off.
“Upstairs Business? No problem. I’m not on duty at the moment, but my workmate should be nearly finished. If you’d like to take a seat in the corner.” Harion realised what she meant and flushed.
“No, I...” The barmaid cut him off again,
“No need to be ashamed,” she smiled. “We keep all our customers confidential. If you’re worried about your girl or wife finding out, we won’t tell her.”

“Wait” Harion tried to shut her up long enough to speak. “I don’t want Upstairs Business. I’d like to see the owner of the bar.” The girl laughed.
“Why didn’t you say so in the first place?” She turned and disappeared into the kitchen, emerging with a small dark haired woman, early tints of silver highlighting her hair. She fixed her cool grey eyes on Harion, as if judging his character.
“Can I help you, my husband is not here at the moment.”
Harion explained who he was and his need for work. He was sick of telling his story by now. He had tried so many different places, but nowhere would take him on. He finished and stared hopefully at the woman. She was silent, and her expression was stern. Harion sighed and turned to go. There must be somewhere in the city that he had not tried yet.

“Where are you going?” The woman’s tone was authoritative and brisk. Harion looked back,
“I assumed that you wouldn’t take me on.” The woman stared at him, her eyes contemplating.
“I did not order you to go. If you are going to work for me, then you had better learn to obey orders.” Harion stared at her dumbly, hardly believing his ears.
“You will start work immediately. Your duties will include cooking, cleaning and serving at the bar. You can stay in an attic bedroom on the second floor, the rent will be taken from your wages. The second floor belongs primarily to my family. If you make a nuisance of yourself, you will be asked to leave. The first floor contains the bedrooms of the serving girls, you will not need to go there, unless as a paying customer. Are there any questions?” Harion shook his head, trying to remember the stream of gabbled instructions.
“Good. You will begin now, I need the vegetables peeled and chopped for the stew tonight. I will prepare your room.”

Harion ducked around the bar and followed the woman into the kitchen. A young girl was standing at the table chopping vegetables.
“This is my daughter Drea” his mistress introduced the girl. “This is Harion, our latest member of the staff.” Drea turned to look in Harion’s direction. Her pale blue eyes
stared blindly over his shoulder.
“Pleased to meet you” she smiled and returned to the vegetables.
Drea’s mother leaned towards Harion to whisper in his ear.
“As you can see, my daughter is blind. That does not affect her ability to work, and you will not treat her any different. She has enough of that outside.”
Drea’s cheeks flushed slightly as she concentrated on feeling the potato for any remains of skin. Her hearing was still good, Harion realised.

“Get to work then.” Drea’s mother pointed at the pile of vegetables, then hurried from the room, long dark skirts sweeping the floor. Harion dropped his few belongings and kicked them into a corner. He picked up a knife and got to work, Life was looking up.
Subject: Aralias part 2


Author:
Faeirex [sighs](yes katy, and Aralias)
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Date Posted: 12:03:18 06/29/02 Sat
He shouted back, his calm ruffled; "That was your choice. You pushed us all away from you, remember?"
"I was trying to protect you." Too late, she recalled that Aralias always won.
"You shouldn’t have bothered. I can take care of myself.” His voice was bitter. “Where were you though when they killed our father? You didn’t stop them then."
She wilted suddenly, sitting down on the bed and burying her head in her hands. "I know." She whispered. "I’m sorry…"
"You’re sorry? Oh well, that’s fine then. Sorry will never be enough, Fae. You should know that by now.” He looked down at her weeping form and relented. Taking her in his arms he whispered, “I know it’s not your fault. He’s dead, and neither of us can bring him back. But,” he said releasing her and standing once more, ”don’t you owe it to him to continue, and see this through? However much you may hate it, it’s the least you can do for him; the least you can do for me.”
There it was. That little twist to remind her that whatever he might do to her, she was still in his debt, and would always be. Dully, she nodded.
"I understand. I’ll tell them, I promise."
"Tonight?"
"Yes, tonight."
"And you’ll wear the dress?"
That brought a smile to her lips at least; Aralias was always pushing. "Yes," she told him in mock exasperation. "I’ll wear the dress. I’ll wear the tiara. I’ll wear anything you like, brother dear, if it will buy your silence."
“You should know by now that nothing will buy the silence of one who adores his own voice as much as I.” In an unusual show of brotherly affection, he kissed her. Well, she supposed, he’d won and could afford to be gracious. “I knew you’d come round. Pack your things. When you’re through with them, I’ll be waiting outside with a horse. It is time you were away from here.
"You want me to leave?" It was strange, but she’d never considered what would happen when she left.
"You can’t stay here, you know that. You don’t belong here. It is best that you go now. If not for me, then at least for the sake of the youth I saw you with earlier."
"What do you mean?" she asked, confused by the sudden change of direction the conversation was taking.
"The blond elf in the training grounds. It’s obvious he cares for you, greatly. The longer you stay here, the more you’ll hurt him when he finds out the truth."
"Legolas?" she asked incredulously. "It’s impossible!"
Dismissing the thought as soon as it had arrived, she added, "Anyway, he’s not going to find out the truth. He doesn’t know who I am- none of them do. It’s going to stay that way. As far as everyone here is concerned, I’m Lómódë. They don’t need to know anything else."
He looked at her closely. "And that’s your plan? Just continue lying to everyone? Gods Fae, I don’t understand you. Sometimes you seem so wrapped in the webs of deceit you’re spinning, you can’t even see who you are any more."
"Maybe that’s the problem. I don’t know who I am any more. I’ve got to be so many different people here, but the one person I can't be is me."
"Yet you can still find it in your soul to slander me." He drawled; jerking her back from the cliff edge of self-pity she had been spiralling towards. "It seems a loathing for me is universal in all of your many personalities. I can’t think what I may have done to deserve such a distinction."
"I’m sure I can think of something."
"Thank-you, but no. I’m sure I can survive without having my imperfections thrown in my face again. We all must have a few flaws, you know."
"A few?"
"Of course. Otherwise I would simply be too perfect to live with. This would then drive you into fits of jealousy, which would eventually drive you mad. So you see I’m doing this for your own benefit."
"I knew there was a reason we stopped speaking," she muttered.
"And I knew there was a reason I came back." He laughed at her. "How could one survive without this kind of charming repartee?"
Subject: Brooke Silverblade


Author:
Anawiel
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Date Posted: 14:56:52 06/29/02 Sat
The weather was turning colder with the inevitable coming of winter in Middle-Earth. The young witch pulled her travelling cloak tighter around her as she walked through the frosted gardens of Minas Tirith.

She had not seen Madjael yet, nor did she wish to. Her only true friend in the place and Anawiel could not even bring herself to look at him in the face.

Her main worry was of Brooke. An apprentice's prescence here may cause problems for Anawiel. After Melmonu had disappeared she had found out little more of her past, of her future. She had sat for hours in her solitary tower room, trying despartely to piece the jigsaw of herself together. But to no avail.

The first drop of semi-frozen rain hit Anawiel's face. Darkening clouds were rapidly forming overhead blocking out the pale sunlight. Night was also approaching along with sleep and no knowledge of where that would take her. Where it had taken her all her life.

What was Brooke's reasoning for being here? Anawiel needed to know and soon.
Subject: The Tavern


Author:
Madjael
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Date Posted: 15:20:44 06/29/02 Sat
He needed to meet Namun soon. Madjael's quick breath clouded infront of his mouth, in small puffs of vapour.
The streets were darkening, oil lamps were being light somewhere ahead of him. Few people ever went out on the streets when it was dark, even if it was barely 7 O'Clock.

Madjael was glad to reach the back alley that led the way behind small, slum-like houses to the Rusty Chain's kitchen.
He had always used the back door, being on good terms with the landlord and his wife. As well as knowing all too many of the 'extra' bar girls.

He knocked loud three times on the door. Drea would know it was him, but it was not her who opened the door. A young man with blond hair and wide green eyes. Like Anawiel, Madjael thought breifly.
"You look new. Is Drea here?" He thought he might as well be nice to the him. Being new in a place like Minas Tirith was hard at the best of times. And now certainly wasn't the best of times for many of the citizens.

"She's just at the table. I'm Harion." The man's accent was foriegn, possibly from For-lands ( For - North in Sindarin )
"Madjael," he replied nodding, "Hello Drea! How is my favourite girl tonight?" Madjael walked over to her. His words caused her to blush deeply as always. She was a sweet girl, barely 15.
She spoke in a slow stilted voice, not use to conversation.
"I am fine. Thank you for asking, as always. Savinia is not working tonight I am afraid."
Madjael grinned, not that Drea could see it, as Harion looked at him with a strange look on his tanned face.
"I am a respectable man tonight Drea. But if you want me, I'm right here for you."

Drea blushed to a deeper beetroot colouring as Madjael entered the main tavern, waving a goodbye to Harion.

The place was busy already, but he could not see Namun among any of the women there. Madjael ordered a pint of ale before joining a group of his fellow warriors, keeoing a close eye on the main door.
Subject: Reunion


Author:
Eowyn and Eomer
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Date Posted: 18:19:58 06/29/02 Sat
The State rooms that Eomer had been shown to were large and heavily decorated in a deep blue velvet and fine mithril. It was nice, but not home. Nor anything that Eomer liked. It was too much and the castle of Rohan, in comparison, was a simpler place with little of the grandeur that lay within the shining walls of Minas Tirith.

He felt slightly uncomfortable there, although he had been friends with Aragorn since the War of the Rings and had visited the city many times before as a rider of the Mark.

A timid knock came from the door and a nervous looking valet entered. He had long mouse-brown hair that nearly brushed his kneecaps as he bowed low towards Eomer. Too low a bow in fact.

"The Lady Eowyn would be glad to see you now, your Majesty." Came the quietly quavering voice, "Shall I show you to her?"

Eomer thought for a second. Elfwine and Lothireil lay in the next room, asleep after their long day travelling. He did not wish to wake them yet. Also it would be nice to talk with Eowyn before she meets with them, and them with her. He thought to himself.

"Valet," he began, "I wish you to show my sister here."

The young man nodded vigorously and departed.


Eowyn thanked the servant and headed towards the South Tower. She stopped outside the correct door and paused for a moment, nervously wringing her hands. How long had it been? Five, maybe six years? In that time, so much had changed. Before she could reflect any further on her rather empty past with her brother, the door opened.

For what seemed like hours, they just looked at each other. Eowyn studied his face – the strong bone structure, alert eyes, glowing bronzed skin, but the faint hints of tired lines showing also. Time had been good to him, but it was gradually making its mark.

His face relaxed and a broad grin hid any signs of age. Eowyn threw her arms around him and squeezed him tightly, closing her eyes and breathing in the scent of what had once been home. For a moment she held on to the embrace, letting the tender greeting say her apologies for not being there. But now, she felt that it didn’t matter anymore.


Eomer opened the door further, waving a hand indicating Eowyn to follow him. She looked tired, maybe even a little pale. In his last letter from Faramir, Eowyn had not sounded well. Faramir would never admit to something being wrong in his kingdom, and especially not his wife.

She stepped inside and sat down in a large chair. The delicate fabric rustled under her skirts as she sank down into the soft folds. "You must tell me everything." Eowyn began

*****


They talked for many hours, exchanging stories and gossip and general news. Eomer told Eowyn everything about her friends from home, many of whom had given letters to him to pass on. Eowyn spoke little of herself, instead enquiring on family and, in particular, her nephew Elfwine.

During their talking several servants came in to light the many candles around the room. Outside day turned rapidly to dusk and then into the dark night.

Somewhere deep in the castle came the gong for dinner. The door leading to the further chambers opened and Elfwine entered looking slightly nervous.

"Mother wishes to decline from dinner this evening. She is too tired." His small quavering voice echoed slightly around the room, his eyes resting nervously on Eowyn.

"Of course. I shall have food sent up for her later. Now, I am sure you are wondering who this lady is, are you not?" Eomer's face cracked into a small smile, while Eowyn blushed. Elfwine shook his head gently.

"This is Eowyn. Your aunt. Why don't you come and say hello to her?" Eomer prompted his son.

Elfwine shuffled forward, looking if anything, embarrassed to have to greet his own aunt formally.


"Come here", Eowyn said gently, lifting Elfwine up and resting him on her knee. She kissed his soft forehead and traced his cheek with her finger. He was a beautiful child, with golden blonde curls falling haphazardly over his head, framing his innocent face. His large blue eyes looked into hers and he seemed to relax a little at her friendly manner.

"Tell me of yourself," she enquired, "Perhaps over dinner."

They left for the Grand Hall, Elfwine talking animatedly as he clutched his aunt's hand.
Subject: "Wonderboy"


Author:
Faeirex and Aralias
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Date Posted: 19:28:22 06/29/02 Sat
"It's not really necessary for you to do this every time" she pointed out. "I know that you have an image to maintain, but you're wasting all this charm on me. It's just not appreciated."
"Oh but without wit and charm what are we if not savages? No I shall continue to hope that one day I may find a line that will win you to my cause." He grinned winningly. "There has to be something I can say."
"How about 'goodbye Fae, I am leaving you alone, and taking my inane remarks with me'?" she said grumpily.
"Oh," he grunted cheerfully, grasping his chest as if in pain. "And the dark girl scores a bull's eye. I suppose wonderboy always says the right thing?"
She blushed, then grew angry with herself for letting him see one of his jibes had hit home. "Leave Legolas out of this."
"And he equalises. So wonderboy means something to you? Fae you know you can't afford to develop feelings for one of them. Haven't you learnt anything from me?"
"Oh yes, I've learnt many things from you. Just nothing worthwhile. And I'm not developing feelings for him. He's a friend, that's all."
"Really? I know you better than anyone alive. You like him; alot. That's why we must leave quickly. But before we go I don't suppose you'd mind introducing me to your wonderboy?"
"Can you stop calling him that! And no. There is nothing on this earth that will move me to inflict you on him."
"Please. I think you owe me this, Fae. I won't even call him wonderboy to his face. I'll be polite I promise. I'll charm him with my wit and sincerity. Come on Fae."
"You're never sincere. And the answer's still no."
"Never sincere? Now we both know that's not true. But in this case I am mearly playing the concerned older brother. I want to see the elf that you deemed worthy of yourself. Yes, I know that you are not developing feelings for him. But even if you are only willing to befriend him he must be something special. It's just cruel to deny me a chance to talk with this wonderboy."
"You're going to keep asking me until i give in, aren't you?"
"Probably. I'm as stubborn as you are and you know that. Now let's go find the kid."
"He's not a kid."
"Faeirex he must be less than three thousand years old. It's really of no matter though if, as you assure me, you don't have feelings for him. But if you insist I shall be civil. His essense is everywhere in this room. It'll make him easy to locate."
"You can do that? When did you learn to do that?"
"I pick things up around. I'm not entirly useless you know." He closed his eyes in concentration. "He's sulking in one of the rooms down this corridor. You may not feel that way about him, but..."
"Stop insinuating. There's no need to be quite so affable. It makes me suspicious." She sighed. "If we go find him, do you promise not to do anything stupid?"
"I never behave stupidly. Every word, every gesture is carefully considered before being shown to the outside world. This meeting could be very interesting."
Subject: Mistaken Identity


Author:
Faeirex, Legolas and Aralias
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Date Posted: 20:19:55 06/29/02 Sat
“Legolas.”
He turned around at the sound of her voice, face almost automatically brightening into a welcoming smile, before he remembered she was not alone. At the sight of the visitor standing beside her, one hand cupped proprietarily under her elbow, a cloud passed across his features before he was even aware of it and could force the mask back into place.
“Legolas,” she repeated, looking a little puzzled, “this is Aralias.”
“I’m delighted to meet you.” he told the elf formally. Gods, he sounded so stiff. No wonder Lómódë preferred this handsome stranger.
"I am of course delighted to meet you too." He released Faeirex's arm and offerered the young elf his hand. "I wish I could tell you I had heard great things about you but she, as usual, has told me nothing. However I recognise your name. You are the prince of Mirkwood are you not?"
"You have heard correctly." he answered shortly, shaking the proffered hand, then stood racking his brains for an intelligent comment to add. Of course, he could think of nothing. It flashed across his mind how unfavorably he would compare with Aralias, and the thought only served to increase his muteness.
Aralias gently prised Legolas's hand from his own and watched the elf stood dumbly accross from him. The boy was obviously enamoured with Fae; it was all rather sad really. "I hear the woods are quite beautiful at this time of year."
"Mirkwood is always beautiful, whatever the time of year. I don't have to have been home recently to know what they will look like. Have you ever been there?"
"Once a very long time ago. It was, as you say, exquisite. I spent a restful year residing in those forests and at the end I could barely bring myself to leave. Part of my heart resides still in Oropher's kingdom." His face assumed a wistful expression. You are fortunate to have such a home." He put his arm around Faeirex's shoulders. "So how do you know the infamous Lómódë?"
"She tripped me up in the forests out there and held my own knife to my throat." he admitted ruefully, with a light laugh.
"That's my girl." He leaned over and kissed her cheek with relish; knowing that it would irritate both of them.
Legolas watched him stonily. Was there a reason for all this? Had he done something that made her punish him in this way? He cleared his throat, the false smile back in place. "So, have you two known each other long then?" he asked politely.
"Forever," he replied with an smile that was completely genuine and therefore a rarity. He stroked Fae's ebony hair. "Since the beginning of time it seems and I have cherished every moment of it." The prince of Mirkwood looked like he was about to explode and Aralias's mouth twitched gleefully.
Growing more and more irritated, Faeirex pushed him away. It was about time he ceased his torments. "Alright Aralias, you've had your fun. Enough is enough. If I have to stand here and listen to your nonsense any longer, I may have to kill someone."
"I hope you're not looking at me, sister dear." He fixed his gaze on Legolas and watched the conflict flash over the serene mask.
"It would be one way of solving my problems" Faeirex retorted. She span back and smiled warmly. "Yes, I'm afraid he's my brother," she admitted. "I apologise for him."

Her brother! Not a lover after all. Relief flooded him as comprehension dawned. Of course, now that he knew, he didn’t see how he could have failed to notice it before. Seen side by side, their features bore a strong resemblance- not identical, but similar. Almost as if a sculptor had begun by creating two duplicates of the perfect face, then had carefully honed and altered each individual feature, adding the little touches that made one feminine, the other masculine. His face was, in it’s own way, no less flawless than hers, although bending more in the direction of handsomeness than of beauty.
He was taller than her by perhaps two inches, body lean and well proportioned. His jawline was squarer and her lips were fuller, but the colour of the hair and the eyes were identical, the same rich shades.
The shape of his eyes and set of the face gave him the look of a hunter, and one who would track tirelessly and ruthlessly to the very end. Despite his urbane words and civilised tone, Legolas felt oddly threatened just by his presence. There was a restless energy about him that no veneer could hide.
He smiled his first genuine smile of the afternoon. "I suppose it was rather remiss of me not to have guessed."
"Rather? I'd say the years of soft palace living have dulled your wits Legolas." He grinned wolfishly. "Perhaps I should introduce myself again. Quel andune. My name's Aralias and I have the misfortune to be the brother of the charming Lady Lómódë. Please forgive me for taking amusement at your expense."
"I suppose I deserved it. What brings you to Minas Tirith?"
"A family matter. Speaking of which, Lómódë shouldn't you be attending to that now?"
She read the meaning implicit in his voice and scowled. Packing was not a pleasant occupation, especially when she didn't actually want to leave. "That sounds like my cue to go. Legolas, I'll speak to you later." She leant towards her brother and muttered, "Play nice. Try to behave yourself for once."
"Little sister I always play nice. To begin with anyway. And don't scowl like that. You don't want to develop wrinkles. Soon you'll start looking your age."
"Which is still younger than you, if I remember correctly. Perhaps you should follow your own advice."
"I always do. That's why I'm wrinkle free. Now scurry off. I want you to be done by this evening." He nodded curtly at Legolas before turning back to Faeirex. "If you need me I'll be in the library."
Seething at his casual dismisal of her, she bid the faintly amused-looking Legolas goodbye and swept off, mustering as much dignity as she could. No matter how their conversations set out, she and Aralias always seemed to end by sniping at each other. His insistence on treating her at all times like a child only worsened their bickering. There was only so much of his superior attitude that she could take.

He watched her leave, turning over in his mind the implications of the meeting. It had revealed things about him that he was not entirely ready to admit even to himself. Even worse, Aralias appeared to have seen what hid in his mind, and had taunted him over it. For all was becoming clear now. The amount of relief that he had felt over discovering that they were related had gone beyond simple jealousy. Whatever he might tell himself, Legolas knew in his heart that he was totally, inextricably, in love with Lómódë. For better or for worse, she had captured him. And it didn't look like she would be unchaining him any time soon.
Subject: the evil tide is coming


Author:
halbarad
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Date Posted: 16:26:11 06/30/02 Sun
At night he came through the gates of the city.
All night people saw a wounded ranger out of the north searching for Gandalf. in the early hours of the morning he found him.
"Gandalf i have searched for you. the dunedain of the north have been scattered."
"How did this happen it would have taken many a foe to break the rangers."
"Orcs!!! legions of them! the strength of the evil came upon us like a storm.
They took back deadman's dike from whence we once drove them."
"These are evil tidings indeed as they have lost an enemy whereas we have lost a allie, or we have unless they can be mustered."
" Gandalf where did they come from? i thought all the orcs were killed or forced to the outer regions of middle earth."
" I don't know where from they came but we must be careful, they may muster great strength in there hiding holes."
" I had know where else to go so i came for your counsel yet it proved overlate."
Subject: In the Kitchen


Author:
Harion
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Date Posted: 18:41:06 06/30/02 Sun
Harion watched Madjael disappear into the main tavern. He turned back to Drea who was continuing with the peeling.
“Who’s that?” he asked “Do you mind him talking to you like that?”
Drea looked up, her face slightly puzzled, then understanding flooded through.
“Madjael is a warrior for the king, a regular customer. He would never harm me, treats me more like a sister really, but likes to tease.” She blushed again. “He’s nice enough.”

“Even though he spends so much time with Savinia?” Harion said, disapproval obvious in his voice. Drea dropped her knife and placed her hands on her hips. Her annoyance overcame her normal shyness.
“Listen Harion, you’re new to the city, obviously you don’t realise how priorities change. You’ve got to stop treating the barmaids like lower citizens, or mother will dismiss you. Remember, some of the money they earn goes towards your wages.”

Harion stared at the table, sulkily silent. Drea listened to the lengthening silence.
“Harion,” she tried again, her voice much more gentle. “I know it’s different from what you’re used to, but in the end, it’s just another way to make a living. You know what it is like to be hungry, so do these girls. Savinia was orphaned as a child, now she sees my parents as family. The Upstairs Business is just..... a way to make ends meet.” She turned away, blushing deeply. Unused to conversation, she had just used up a large quota of words.

Harion sighed and started rooting through the cupboards for a bowl.
“If you say so.” Of course he knew what it was like to desperately need money, but he would never dream of allowing his sister to become a prostitute. Then again, there was Option C. Wasn’t that similar? Harion shuddered at the thought. Option B was for him to earn money in the city. As long as he paid the debts soon, Option C could be forgotten.

Savinia entered the kitchen, shoulders drooped, huge bags under her eyes.
“I’m shattered” she explained, collapsing in a chair. “It’s supposed to be my night off, and I’m still stuck serving drinks.” She looked up at Harion hopefully.
“Would you mind taking over?” Harion shrugged and headed into the main Tavern. The dark smoky atmosphere was almost choking. He looked over to where Madjael was laughing with his friends. Maybe Drea was right. Anyway, if he was ever to make friends of his own, prejudices should be forgotten.
Subject: illusions


Author:
halbarad
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Date Posted: 17:36:59 07/01/02 Mon
Halbarad once again sought counsel with Gandalf the white.
He searched for him and eventually found him again, this time he found him sitting in a cellar smoking his pipe. "Gandalf once more I seek your counsel. I received news from my brethren that they have regrouped and are planning an attack to retake to dike with me at their head. I wish to know is this a wise thought or just a last attempt at vengeance though it be foolish and it will doom my kin.”
“I will say this to you. You will let them go unanswered.”
“But my kin they need me at their head to lead them. My kin need me!”
“And my kin need me!! They need me to finish what I started and do my job. It is very plain what I must do. I MUST KILL YOU!!!!!!!”
Where seconds before had stood Gandalf their now stood an orc.
It quickly slid from its crude belt a sword. It was a sword that was red with blood it was jagged and hooked.
Halbarad jumped backwards as the orc drove the sword at him. The sword missed barely yet one of the hooks scored a hit and ripped his flesh on his leg open. Halbarad scrambled to hid feet avoiding blow after blow. None of them were very serious wounds but he got many cuts from the hooks and barbs. It was now that the orc swung the sword with all his might at Halbarads head only by the rangers of the north’s hawk like reflexes was he saved as the sword whistled by Halbarads ear. Halbarad while he ducked the sword took from the strap of his boot the knife he kept there for just such an attack. He jumped to his feet and avoiding the orc’s blows he drove the knife deep into its arm. The orc writhing in pain dropped his sword, that Halbarad kicked instantly out of reach.
As the orc slowly and painfully pulled the knife out of his arm Halbarad drew his sword.
He held his sword high and drove it down, his whole weight behind it, through the orc’s chest.
The orc took a deep breath as one who knows death is coming. Halbarad shouted at the orc
“ WHO WANTS ME DEAD, WHO?!?!?!”
The orc replied “you will learn soon enough and you will pay!!” after these words the orc started cackling. The rage that grew inside Halbarad was enough to scare even the most courageous of foes.
He pulled his sword from the orc and in one fluid movement span it round sending the orc’s head rolling to the back of the room.

With that Halbarad took his leave, went to the nearest inn and rented a room.
In his room he used his knowledge of herb law and what dried herbs he had in his satchel to heal his wounds. He than bandaged them and lay down, his thought wandering to who it was who wanted him dead? And who was it who was plotting against the free people of middle earth???
Subject: Kidnapping


Author:
Brooke
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Date Posted: 19:56:22 07/01/02 Mon
" Brooke i think we should leave NOW!" whitemoon said as
his growls became more audible.
Brooke sighted and took to the air. Before she placed her illusion around her and whitemoon she called to the witch.
" We will meet again by then i want you to have an idea of what you wish from me witch."
She pulled her illusion around her and whitemoon and left
the training grounds. She looked up at the sky.
" It will became dark soon i think that it is time i planted the seeds."
She flew from one place of the city to another looking for an appropriate place to plant the seeds. When she had only one left she headed towards the palace.
" Why are we going back there?" whitemoon asked.
"I want to make sure that the people in the palace do not get left out of the fun. And this one is especially made for quite a few people in the palace.Especially the elves."
brooke said.
They circled the palace looking for an apropriate place to
plant the seed. She stopped in front of an opened window where a boy slept in the bed.
Whitemoon knew the moment a plan entered her mind.
" What are you planning to do brooke?" he asked.
She smiled. " First we plant the seed."
She quickly went to the courtyard and found a place for the seed. When she finished planting the seed she went up to the window and quietly entered.
She sprinkled sleeping dust on the boy and lifted him from the bed. " Brooke what are you doing with that boy? You were hired to cause trouble not to kidnap a boy!"
" Relax whitemoon this will cause quite a lot of trouble," she said as she flew out the window. She covered the boy in her illusion and headed for the forest.
Subject: reassurances


Author:
Rosie and Lily
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Date Posted: 20:52:30 07/01/02 Mon
Rosie and Lily were sitting in the warm, comfortable living room. Each were in their nighties and holding a hot mug of cocoa.
“So have you heard anything from Sam recently?” enquired Lily.
“Yes, I got a letter yesterday. A lot has been happening recently. Apparently the King has had his wife run out on him, carrying their child - ”
“No” gasped Lily
“Yes, and, he has a servant maid warming his bed instead”
“A servant maid?”
“Yes, I wasn’t quite sure on that either. Sam says he is a bit lonely but he has arranged to see the King soon.”
“And what about little Ryna?”
Rosie smiled at that. “It seems she has befriended a funny talking raven that she has named Quoth. She seems quite taken with it and he sits on her right shoulder, going everywhere with her.”
“Funny talking? As in a weird squawk?”
“No I mean actually talking but in a funny form of Common!”
“You are having me on!”
Rosie chuckled. “I swear I am not,” Rosie became subdued once again “unless Sam is having me on”
“I rather doubt it Rosie dear.”
“Oh, Lily” sighed Rosie
“Rosie, I haven’t mentioned this before but now I think it is becoming urgent. Stop beating yourself up about this.” Rosie looked up shocked. “He loves you, I know he does. It is in the way he looks at you to the way he touches you. I don’t know where you got the idea that he doesn’t or that you were second but I doubt them both very much. Sam is a very sincere guy. He would not have married you if he didn’t love you.”
“You really think so?”
“With every beat of my heart. And,” Lily added mischievously, “how many children do you have?”
Subject: The tavern


Author:
Namün
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Date Posted: 21:23:50 07/01/02 Mon
Dusk began to fall as Namün hurried nervously along the streets. At first, the dark hadn't bothered her, but as she left the upper levels of the city and headed towards the slums, the streets got narrower and the shadows more threatening. She couldn't help but remember the last time she had dared to come down here at this time of day, and what had followed. Even worse, in addition to the growing dark was the cold, freezing her breath against her face. It wouldn't be long until the first snow fell. Under her feet mud churned by busy feet had already begun to freeze, footprints still preserved on its chill surface.

With every step she took she regretted coming even more, longing to flee back to the safety of the palace away from the dangers of the city. Yet she owed it to Madjael to at least speak to him. Besides, there would probably be trouble waiting for her when she got back. When she had said that she needed to leave early, Mirwan had naturally assumed that she would be meeting with the king, and had been forced to let her go with little more than a cold basilisk glare. When her deception was revealed, the scene would not be attractive, and was to be avoided at all costs.

*****

The Rusty Chain was already crowded when she arrived, warmth and light spilling out onto the narrow street. She paused uncertainly in the doorway, glancing around. The people who didn't wish to frequent the streets had gathered in here instead, commoners, warriors, workmen and whores alike. There was barely a seat free. A drunken man pushed past her, making her stumble, and she drew back in disgust. She wasn't sure of how to handle herself around so many strangers in such a raucous environment. Truth be told, they scared her. When she finally caught sight of Madjael, he was surrounded by a crowd of rowdy friends. She pulled back even more. On his own, she could cope. But now he had friends to support him, and she was alone and feeling very vulnerable. She fought back the urge to bolt unnoticed, get far away from this place. Until he fixed her gaze with icy blue eyes, and she knew she had to stay.
Subject: Guard Duty


Author:
Olzag
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Date Posted: 21:36:17 07/01/02 Mon
A small bird landed lightly on a low branch and began to sing. The delicate feathers rustled in the slight breeze as it dipped its head in time to its song.

Suddenly a hand reached out and grasped the bird roughly. Olzag crushed the creature within his iron like grip. Almost enjoying the pathetic struggles before it lay silent.
A bird didn’t go far on an empty stomach. He hoped the fresh supplies would arrive soon.

Olzag looked across the clearing to where the dwarf lay bound and gagged, unconscious. Guarding prisoners was boring, tedious work. He much preferred to kill them outright, the more limbs hacked off, the better. Still, orders were orders. As soon as this job finished, he could do something more interesting. Hopefully involving more blood.
Subject: Re: The tavern


Author:
Madjael
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Date Posted: 19:42:17 07/02/02 Tue
Namun looked so fragile in the pub, completely unsure of herself - not something that happened all too often.
Madjael got up to go over to her. He could see in her eyes she was worried about talking to him with his friends as an audience.
"Are you alright?" he asked, nearly having to shout above the horrendous din around them. She nodded slightly. Madjael took her arm and guided her gently through the thronging crowds to a door.
He took out a key and slide it into the lock. Without too much trouble he got the door open to reveal a small sitting room, which smelt of pipe-weed, with soft chairs and a glowing fireplace. It was empty and only a few people ever used it anyway.
He beckoned for her to sit down and Madjael took a seat on a low ottoman covered in a dark red throw.
"Now," he began, "Where were we?"
Subject: dreams or memories?


Author:
Quoth
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Date Posted: 20:57:20 07/03/02 Wed
Quoth settled himself down to sleep; it had been a long day. His new mistress was delightful and he found he was growing strangely attached to her. Something deep inside him told the raven not to get involved, to leave and form no connections. But why? For what reason? He just couldn’t figure it out.
Tiredness overtook and Quoth let it overwhelm him and slept.

He was surrounded by an army of mail-clad warriors on horseback and their thunderous shouts of challenge echoed inside his mind. Above and behind him countless green banners bearing the same symbol that he could not recognise were bobbing with restlessness. He could feel his hunger for death and blood but Quoth’s attention was focused solely upon a figure before him. Standing tall and fearless with a bright sword drawn in his hand, a helmet upon his head and a sable cloak flapping about his shoulders, was the Captain of the city guard – Rorraent

Unexpectedly, the dream faded from his mind and Quoth blearily opened his eyes to the morning. He desperately tried to call it back and fall asleep again but a call from Ryna stopped him. Quoth didn’t want to know anyway. He had a new life now. But the dream seemed to stick with him and he wondered what it all meant.
Subject: Arriving


Author:
Aldarion
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Date Posted: 21:35:12 07/05/02 Fri
Aldarion looked around at the city they were entering.
There were signs that there had been fires not long ago.
Of course he knew who had done it. Yes this was most certainly the work of a young feairalev. He smiled.
The dark lord had ordered him to stay away from the feairalev since she was serving him and doing a very good job at it.
He didn't care he would make sure that she was not around for long.

" It seems that she is here." Aldarions companion arcon said. He was staring up at a small trail of rainbow colors that shone faintly. No one but an elf could see it.
" So it does." aldarion said. " It seems like she is heading towards the woods. We will not follow her. If i am correct a windwalker is with her. I do not wish to have to fight him. Especially if he is whitemoon I have encountered him before and almost lost my life. No we will stay in the city and wait for the right moment." They walked further into the city heading for an inn.
Subject: A Long Nap


Author:
Laeriel
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Date Posted: 14:33:18 07/06/02 Sat
Laeriel awoke in her bed, the sun was much lower then it was when she fell asleep. She felt as if she had waked from some dream, but it was far too real to be a dream. Yet, it seemed almost to strange to be real. She slipped out of bed and went to her window. There was a note, sitting on the table next to the window. She saw the attractive hand, and knew at once who left it for her. She picked it up, the note read:

Love,
I'm sorry I could not be there when you waked.
I stayed with you until late afternoon,
but Derrion called for me and I had to
leave. I did not tell him of your vision,
I will leave that to you. I shall be back
to check on you later tonight.

All my love,
Rhylin

Laeriel smiled, she had been disapointed to find he wasn't there when she woke up. But to learn that he had stayed with her so long made her feel happy to the depths of her heart. She walked to her vanity and sat down, studying her reflection in the ornate mirror that lay before her. Her hair was messy and her face pale. It had been a long day. She picked up a brush that lay on the table, she would make her self presentable and go find the king as soon as possible. She needed to tell him about the vision, she felt that something was approaching, and would find them sooner than anyone else had thought.
Subject: off to see the king


Author:
sam and ryna and quoth
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Date Posted: 19:08:48 07/06/02 Sat
"Ryna get yourself presentable please. We are off to see the King."
"He is actually going to see us?"
"Yes, so we can't be late. Come on." Ryna went to her bag and pulled out one of her dresses that she thought would be suitable for meeting a King. "Is that really necessary Ryna?"
"Yes" Ryna replied haughtily.
"Oh, very well. Hurry up."
Five minutes later Ryna stood in front of her dad presentable for their meeting with the King.
"Lets go."
"Oh, hang on, I almost forgot Quoth." Ryna rushed off to the place where Quoth had been sleeping, calling his name.
"Ryna, do we really need to take your raven with us to see the King. I don't think he would be welcome."
"I think that the King will be a very nice guy and love Quoth on sight, you'll see! Quoth! Where are you?"
"I is here dearest Ryna, woken from my slumber. Thank you. Not very nice dreams I did have."
"Ah, don't worry Quoth you are here with me now. Come on we are off to see the King!"
"Our first adventure, let us depart on this noble quest" and with that Quoth alighted onto Ryna's right shoulder and they walked out of the room.

Some time later after getting lost and asking people directions they found their way to the Kings study and knocked on the door.
Subject: Still imprisoned


Author:
Gimli
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Date Posted: 11:22:23 07/07/02 Sun
He felt his conciousness returning but the dwarf did not make any movement that might alert his captures of this new state. His throbbing head informed him that making idle movements was not a wise plan in this hostile enviroment.

Gently he eased his eyelids and surveyed the cave that had been his home for the past few months. A cohort of orcs sat around, their foul voices filling the air with curses and evil laughter. The sweet sound of birdsong wafted to his ears and was rapidly silenced by a mailed fist. Gimli repressed the urge to shudder; knowing that every moment of alertness was precious.

How long had he been in this state? He could hardly remember any more. Vaugely he recalled his journey to locate Legolas after prince had been thrown from the castle.

Why had none come to rescue him? It was a question that still haunted him. Where was Legolas, his best friend? Where were the king and his army?

He felt a slight tickling in his nose.

No, please.

He sneezed. The cave fell silent and Gimli groaned and prepared himself for oblivion.
Subject: Walking the palace corridors


Author:
Rhylin
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Date Posted: 19:08:15 07/07/02 Sun
He made his excuses to Derrion and started moving back towards Laeirel's quarters. It was bad enough leaving her at ordinary times but with in this condition every moment he was not sitting by her side felt like a dagger in his side.

The whole situation was so utterly confusing that Rhylin didn't really pay any attention to where his feet were taking him.

She can't have visions, he though furiously. It doesn't make sense! And what of the vision it's self; Arwen dying? Nothing connected anymore.

"Sorry," he muttered as he almost collided with a tall woman hurrying down the hallway the opposite way to him. "I wasn't watching where I was going."
Subject: A moonwalker I presume?


Author:
Anawiel
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Date Posted: 20:12:04 07/07/02 Sun
Two avari. How interesting. The two stood at the edge of the forest looking towards the city walls. Talking of Brooke and her compainion.

Anawiel rested against a fallen log, yet one that was so wide it came above her head whilst lying on it's side. There was a gentle wind that twisted her fiery hair around her features, obscuring her face. She had long since mastered the art of stillness so that not even an elf could sense her prescence.

The two promptly left giving the sorceress exactly what she needed. She slipped deep into the forest after the rainbow trail. She could not see it, but could feel it's force crackle around her skin, blowing her hair like the breeze had.

Brooke sat in a clearing with the wolf. And a small boy. A mere child. A fire crackled in front of them. Anawiel did not bother with trying to make a grand entrance and instead stode boldly into the long grass. She sat down, inside glowing from the astonished look on the Faeirlev's face. Anawiel brought out a long wand-like pipe. It was bone white and hollow decorated with a thin golden trail of a spun metal. Still not saying anything she filled the pipe, lighting it on the flickering flames before her.

Anawiel drew deeply in then letting a twirling curl of blue smoke escape her lips. It had a faint flowery scent which she savoured. Brooke had still not spoken a word, obviously shocked at the fact that someone had the nerve to just seat themselves at her fireplace.

"You have a windwalker," Anawiel inclined her head towards Whitemoon. "My mother liked them. So," she leaned forward, "why did you take the boy?"
Subject: The pub part 1


Author:
Namün and Madjael
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Date Posted: 17:53:17 07/08/02 Mon
She looked around the room with interest, noting the well-covered windows and a loveseat covered with plush cushions designed to dump the two inhabitants as close together as possible. The candles over the fireplace and the discreet screen in the corner. No need to ask what this room was used for. Her slender black eyebrows arched gently.
"I don't suppose you're going to explain to me exactly what you're doing with a key to this place.
Never mind, I can guess."

"Actually it's not what it looks like." Madjael smirked slightly at the look on her face. It would have been quite comical if he had not been worrying about what he planned to say to her.
"It's a ladies room. Well," he corrected, "Used to be. They'd come in here, get changed, have a drink and then go out to the main bar. Later they may have brought people back here. I don't know. The other rooms are upstairs, but I'm free to do what I want Namün - you forget that."
The key, he thought to himself had been 'borrowed' out of Savinia's pocket-bag about 2 months ago. He studied Namün's face. She looked tired, obviously Mirwan had not exactly been sweetness and light towards her. But that's the way she was and, as far as Madjael could think, he couldn't see it changing.

"I haven't forgotten anything, Madjael. You're right, you can do whatever you want. But do you really want this?

The place made her skin crawl. No matter what else she nay have to do, she could never have borne to sell her body. How desperate must those girls out there have become, that they would be forced to take such an action? And the men who took advantage of their poverty...

Her tone made him angry. Sometimes Namün could say some of the stupidest things, regardless of what it might mean to someone. She always seemed to treat him like a child. Namün was luckier than she realised.

"Sometimes a person doesn't have a choice." he said softly, as if he didn't want her to hear. He had never been capable of making choices - all too often decisions where made for him leaving him with little clue as to what was right and expectable, and what wasn't.

"You think too much of yourself Namün, try looking at another person once in a while. Everyone has their story to tell. You don't give them a chance."

"Do you really think that of me?" she asked angrily. "You have no right no judge me on this, because you have no idea how close I came to this myself. You have no idea of anything at all. Maybe they didn't have a choice, but you do. No one forces you to pay for them, you do that on your own."
Her tone softened a little.
"But I won't judge you for that either. I know you, or used to at least. I'm sure you had your reasons."

"Great. Glad that's cleared up." he muttered sarcastically. This was not going well. Although they needed to talk, they were both skirting round the subject like he had earlier. She could at least tell me she doesn't love me and get it over with Madjael thought bitterly.

"I didn't mean it like that." she said quietly. "Look, I'm sorry, ok?
Madjael?" she added timidly when he didn't answer.
Giving a cry of frustration she fell backwards into the chair, studying the beams, the cracks on the ceiling, anything rather than continue looking at him.
"This is never going to work, is it? We can't even stop arguing long enough to talk properly.

Maybe I should just go. We're getting nowhere."

"I don't want you to go until you tell me whether or not I have to go and drown my sorrows for the 9 millionth time!" Madjael tried to keep his voice calm but it was verging near hysterical when it came out of his mouth. "I can't breath! I can't say what I want because I've spent so long shutting everyone out, especially you, that I can't get rid of it and it's...it's" he trailed off. He wasn't sure what it was to be honest. He licked his dry bottom lip and finished weakly. "It's not fair."

She opened her mouth to tell him that he was right, that she didn't love him, but the sight of his pure vulnerability stopped her. He was miserable enough already, why add to his torment. The sight of a Madjael who was anything but confident and in control threw her. Her lip first began to tremble, before she gave in to her feelings and buried her head in her arms, bursting into tears.
Subject: Magic


Author:
Faeirex
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Date Posted: 18:50:50 07/08/02 Mon
Faeirex stood opposite the mirror, gazing into its depths. The girl staring back at her didn't look like her at all. She was someone different, someone strange to her.
The person she should have been, perhaps. The person her father had wanted her to become.

He looked at her steadily, an unwavering gaze. She longed to be able to wipe the look of sadness and regret from his eyes, knew she could not.
“Father, please…”
He silenced her with a hand. Tall, regal and dignified, with an imposing presence, he was everything she should have been. Yet she was not, and had disappointed him in almost every way imaginable. There was an expression of indescribable pain on his face whenever he looked upon her, his only female child. He spoke gently, as if to try to spare her feelings, but nothing could protect her from the stab of his words.
“You are not my daughter.”

The last words she had ever seen him speak, to her at least. She had broken away from him, sobbing, and run. And the next time she had seen him all she could do was watch helplessly through a seeing stone as they cut him down.

“We have no quarrel with you, Erliân. All we want is the girl. Where is she?”
“I cannot tell you. Whatever her crimes, she is still my blood. You will never touch her while I live.”
“Then you must die.”

The elf in the mirror raised a tiara to her head, slipping it into place in shining hair. When she lowered her hands her eyes were filled with tears, the image blurring. She dashed them away. It was too late for tears now. Aralias was cleverer than even she sometimes gave him credit for. With just a few subtly-worked in words, he had given her almost all the motivation she needed. Like to pay like, blood followed with blood.
Until the end.

She forced her mind to the buisness in hand. As far as Aragorn was concerned right now, she was just a she-elf, of no especial import. She herself had encouraged that belief. But if she were to face him as Lómódë she would be thought of as his inferior. Would he believe her? She thought not. No, it was as Faeirex of the Valedhel that she must go to him, her power shown even if not named. It seemed a demonstration was called for.
There was no need to go to the palantir this time. She delved deep into her own special abilities, unique to her as the last of the Valedhel left on Middle Earth. Rather than looking on the throne room, she expanded her consciousness to sense it. Tirolian had once told her that when she did that she lost her grip on her power and let it come with her, spilling out into the air around her. Well, that wouldn't matter right now. The more of an impact she made, the better.
Finding what she was searching for, she began to pull herself inwards again, centering on the ancient carved throne. The tree in the centre. She smiled. It was rather ironic that her own especial gift should be called into play here.

Grow
With the word came the power, rolling out from her in a great rush as if it were water unleashed from a dam. The change began slowly at first, but took speed as it came. Gradually, inch by inch, a finger-long tendril of light wood peeled away from its dark housing. Others followed, then more. She waited until the first cry of astonishment came, then continued to the next stage of the change. The branches began to grow longer and thicker, becoming less of a pattern come to life and more of a living tree anchored in a chair. The room had grown deadly quiet.

Agonisingly slowly, the final touch came into place. The flowers of the mellon tree opened on the ends of the new-formed twigs, filling the room with their sweet perfume. Where the lowest bough nearly swept the floor gathered a dark sap in a gradually swelling drop, that finally gained in weight enough to fall and splash on the hard stone. Blood.

And then all was silent.

Faeirex's skin glowed with the power and her dark hair blazed. The meek raiment cast away, there was no mistaking the marks of her race and the whisper of her power. All as it should be. Satisfied that she had done enough to make Aragorn take notice, she swept from the room.
Subject: Interrogation


Author:
Vomyr
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Date Posted: 21:21:13 07/08/02 Mon
He felt something moist seep through the sole of his thin shoes and considered turning back. The door behind him was shut again however and Vomyr decided to continue down through the bowls of the prison. The king had not reappeared and so the valet had concluded that it was therefore his responsibility to question his impersonator. As the torch light caught the movement of another rodent he began to once again regret his plan of action.

The prisoner's cell loomed into view and Vomyr peered through the dingy half darkness; "Hello in there." There was no answer. "Look," he called trying to make his voice sound menacing, "it would be better for you if you answer me. What is your name?"
The occupant of the cell remained silent and Vomyr's heart rate increased. He turned away from the cell and started to walk back towards the relative safety of the doorway.

"If you want to talk you'll have to open the gate."
"So you speak," Vomyr called with as much bravado as he could muster.
"I'll speak; for a price."
"Well as I don't bargin with common criminals it appears this meeting is over."
"It appears so."
Vomyr cursed softly. "What do you want?"
"You abandon your principals swiftly."
"As the one incarcerated you can hardly talk."
"I have made my share of mistakes I admit. But this idle chat, we must speak properley. Open the gate."
"You think me a simpleton?"
"Of course not. I mearly wish to converse without my neighbours evesdropping. Surely you are not so cowardly as to fear an unarmed prisoner?"
"I am not a coward."

The man in the cell was silent but his message was clear; then unlock the cell.

The valet fished the chain of keys from his pocket, inserted one of the smaller into the lock and stepped back to allow the barred door to swing open.

He walked into the tiny room; "Now we talk."
Subject: Found her


Author:
Omiril
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Date Posted: 02:33:17 07/09/02 Tue
" Finally i have found her." Omiril said as she looked at the woods. She had asked the trees if they had seen brooke and send them an image of how she looked like. After an entire year of searching she had found the young girl and her guardian.
' Now how exacly am i going to make her listen to me. I know whitemoon will listen but i dought the young feairalev will listen. Most likely attack me.' She sighted. Perhaps she should have gone home and let someone else deal with the stubborn girl. " No sense in backing out now." She told herself as she started walking towards the woods.
Subject: Finally....


Author:
Faramir
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Date Posted: 16:24:24 07/09/02 Tue
Faramir rubbed his eyes. It felt as if dust was blown into the they were so sore, and he was so tired. Chaos semed to have decended upon the palace. Mysterious fire, the disapearance of the King, and the changling in the dungeons.

It was just about all he could face for one day. All he wanted to do was slump in a chair with a stiff drink. It was after he had nearly walked into a door, that suddenly he realised that Eomer would be here.

So it was with fresh vigor and energy that Faramr aproached
one of the serving girls as she bustled passed, her arms filled with laundry. "Excuse me- but do you know where King Eomer is?" She blushed slighty, embarressed about being addressed by the Steward, but directed him to one of the private drawing rooms.

The passages seemed to last forever, but he could have waked there blindfolded. It had always been his home, from when he had been the tiniest child to now, Steward of Gondor. Yet, he often wondered, how different things would have been if Boromir was still alive.

The dark wood shone, and he knocked lightly upon it. "It's Faramir- may I come it?"
Subject: The throne room


Author:
Aryante
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Date Posted: 16:57:56 07/09/02 Tue
Aryante curiously read the note that had been slipped under her door. It was unsigned and she could not recognise the lean, neatly scripted hand. It read:

To whom it may concern,
In the throne room today there will be made an important announcement. Should you wish to attend and hear all that is to be said, please make yourself present at approx. 7 o'clock this pm. Thank you.

Setting the note down again on her desk the elven healer turned to her desk and picked up her hairbrush. Running the teeth through her hair Aryante thought of the possibilities concerning the meaning of this curious meeting. She pushed an elegant clip of mithril and gold through her hair to keep it off her face and slipped her shoes on. Leaving the room, Aryante's dress brushed the door bringing it to a close and she set off to the palace gardens before going on to the throne room.

Knocking quietly, she entered the thick mahogany door and peered round.
Subject: Visions


Author:
Faeirex and Rhylin
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Date Posted: 17:27:44 07/09/02 Tue
The steady rhythm of her stride was interrupted by a small figure who narrowly missed rushing into her in his haste to reach his destination. She registered his apology almost before she had even adknowledged his appearance, and began to apologise gracefully herself, before eyes managed to make contact with mind and announce the presence of a faery. Her musical voice died quickly, to be replaced by a steely glare.

"No really, it was my fault. Are you alright?" He looked up into hard blue orbs; saw the loathing there; "Please forgive me. I'll be more careful in future..." The beautiful face remained still and Rhylin felt his confidence dwindling. "I...well...sorry...I have to go."
He made to leave and almost collapsed as the vision overwhelmed him.

"Well girly you gave us a good run for our money. There's nowhere left to go now though."
The woman glares at him and lets loose another arrow which lodges in the chest of a young man, who falls from his horse next to the hooves of another. The second rider, tears streaming from his eyes, yells heartbroken at the cornered woman, "You bitc..."
"Leave it Leon."
"Sir!"
"That was her last arrow. It seems your brother managed to achieve something with his death, though he was a useless lump in life." The gruff leader dismounts as he walks toward the dark haired girl who still stands defiantly.
"You have killed many of my men" his voice is scarily calm as his fist flys into her face. A delicate trickle of blood runs from her mouth but still she stands; eyes blazing.
"So brave? Wait till night," he leers at her.
"Leon; bind her hands." The grieving youth moves over to where the lady stands. No one watches as the dagger slides between ribs and pierces her heart.
"I loved my brother, useless as he was," he mutters letting her body drop.

Rhylin's eyes opened on the same woman's form bending over him. He cursed softly before trying in vain to push himself into a roughly vertical position.
"You should rest" Faeirex murmured softly. "No matter where you need to be, it's not worth risking your sanity over. You're too weak right now to leave your mind open to Hfäinién."
"I'm fine," he lied. "I just need to get back to Laeriel. This has happens too often for it to bother me. She's not used to them though. She's worth my sanity." He pushed himself to his feet weakly. "I'm so sorry."

So even the plucky little faery girl had found love. Faeirex bit her lower lip gently, glancing away. She struggled with the inner argument going on inside herself. Much as she may hate faeries, the man hadn't done anything to her. And if she let him leave, he could easily collapse again. It wouldn't just be him she hurt, but Laeriel also. Who she had already been unforgiveably rude to.
It was important for her to go to the throne room, but that could wait for a time. After what she had just made happen, nobody would be going anywhere for a while. And suddenly there was something that she had to know, before she went. She hadn't realised until now just how important it was to her. This could be her last chance to find out.
"She can wait" she told him firmly. Trying to support his weight as best she could with her slim form, she half guided, half pushed him towards the nearest door, and into a chair. Glancing round for a cup of some sort, she removed an antique golden goblet from a glass-fronted cabinet. From the looks of it, it was several hundred years old. Oh well, she shrugged. Fixing her gaze on it she condensed water straight from the air into the vessel, then brought it to his lips. "Drink"

As Rhylin drank he tried to watch the lady without appearing to. She was obviously incredibly powerful, there had certainly not been any water in the cup when she had removed it. More disturbing was her knowledge of Hfäinién. She was too tall for a faery; her presence too overwhelming. He sipped the water he did not want quietly feeling like a child.

She wandered about the room restlessly, unsure of how to carry herself. It was hard to put several thousand years of hatred behind her even for this one meeting. And he didn't seem any more comfortable than she did. They were both defensive of their positions, and it was unlikely that there was any middle ground they could meet on. It was one of the few times in her life Faeirex had ever wished Aralias was with her. For all his faults, he always knew exactly what to say.
Finally, she gave in and seated herself cross-legged at his feet, placing him in the position of power. Twisting a strand of her dark hair around her fingers she looked up at him through dark lashes, suddenly seeming absurdly young for the finery she wore.
"The vision caused you pain." she said simply. "You cried out many times. What did you see?"
"Nothing of importance. If you know of Hfainien you know that the visions it bring are always accompanied by agony."
She smiled wryly. "By which you mean that it is not my buisness to ask, and you have no intention to tell me."
It was never a good idea to tell anyone of their own death. "I didn't mean it was none of your business I mearly meant it would not interest you."

"As you wish." she said calmly. The awkward silence in the room lingered for another spell, as each of them struggled to think of something to say. Faeirex released her grip on her hair and began to play with the hem of her gown. Gathering together her courage she raised her eyes to his again, head slightly tilted to one side in an ingenuous manner. "I need to ask you something." she confessed, face artlessly trusting.
"Ask anything. You have been extreamly kind to me. It is the least I can do."
"Thank you." She searched for the right words. "If a faery..." she began haltingly, "..such as King Cellius...were to...have a vision," she stared up at him appealingly, "do they always come true? can they ever be averted?" the words came out in a rush. As she waited for him to reply she tore her gaze away and looked down, trying not to let him see how much his answer mattered.
"Faery visions are always truthful. The interpretations of those visions however are massivly flexible they depend of the faery in question rather than Hfainian and are therefore often incorrect. Our king however has rarely been proved wrong. It is odd that you chose to ask about him. Have you met Cellius?"

“Faeirex, before you leave, there’s something you need to know.”
Cellius stood commandingly in front of her. He was taller than most faeries, yet still shorter than the she-elf by a full head. Despite his diminutive size though, his regal bearing and noble air lent him the appearance of a height far greater than any he could lay claim to. Next to him, Faeirex looked the child that, in elven years, she was. Headstrong, rash and uncoordinated. Affectionately she threw her arms around the faery king's neck. He detached her gently and gazed upon her paternally. "I really think you should sit down." Curiously, she nodded and took a seat on a beautifully carved wooden chair. "What is it?"
He sat next to her and cleared his throat. "I've had a vision."
"And..."
"It's about you."
His sombre tone made her nervous. "Cellius, what did you see?"
Very reluctantly, he spoke. "Death. I saw you kill. Again, and again, and again. You're going to become a destructive power greater than anything I've ever seen before. Greater than anything this world has ever known, save Morgoth himself." She remained still, in a shocked silence. He reached out and took her hand. "I'm sorry Faeirex. I thought you should know."
She pulled away sharply. "I won't." her voice shook. "I won't become like that. Nobody can make me be like that." she turned to him urgently. "How can I stop it? You've got to help me Cellius," she begged.
He shook his head pityingly. "Not even you can prevent this Fae. How can you go against your own nature?"
"I can try. What do I have to do?"
"Never fall in love."
She stared at him, aghast. "What do you mean?"
"From your love will come death." he whispered softly. "It will be through love that your greatest power comes, and you will rain destruction on all those around you."
She stood up sharply, knocking over the chair. It hit the ground with a loud clatter. Shaking her head furiously she began to cry. "No..."
Cellius stood up and reached out to comfort her. She pushed him away fiercely. "Don't touch me! Don't even come near me! Why did you have to tell me this? What right did you have to take away any chance of happiness I ever had?"
"Faeirex..." he began helplessly.
It was too late. In a few words, the fragile trust the she-elf had placed in him had been swept away, to be replaced by a burning anger. He could understand her pain, even understand why she blamed him. Who else was there? But she had gone too far away from him to reach, spiralling quickly out of control. The wind began to pick up as the blocks between her emotion and her power fell away, reflecting the one in the other. Rain fell and a terrible storm raged, with all the burning ferocity of her wrath. And then lightening began to build in the inky black clouds. Horrified, Cellius could only watch as the first bolt struck the towers of his beautiful city, hot enough to make the stone burn. Chaos raged and his people fled in terror as Carenina burned. Through the smoke he caught a glimpse of the slim, beautiful girl who was the cause of the devastation. One look at her face told him that she was no more in control than anybody else. She had lost her grip on her power and didn't know how to pull it back in to her again. She didn't know anything but the mad grief which overcame her. Their eyes met just once and he saw the hate there, before she turned and walked away, leaving the storm broiling behind her. He never saw her again.

Without expecting any success he asked again, "are you alright?"
"She pulled herself back from her memories and tried to compose herself. "I'll be fine. I'm sorry- I don't know what came over me."
"I'm afraid there's no water left but I can get you some if you want." He felt vaguely uneasy as he tried to comfort the young woman. Without knowing either her ailment or her name he had little chance of being able to reach out to her. "Is there anything I can do?"
"Nothing. You can't change the past, and I can't change the future. Therefore we are both helpless."
He sensed that there was more she was not telling him; something concerning the king's vision but it was not in him to inquire further. So he sat woodenly and waited for her to recover.
So it had been confirmed. Cellius had been right. The burden he had lain upon her could not be removed. From your love will come death. And not just when she loved. All who had loved her were now dead as well, beyond her reach. And for her the future looked bleak. She couldn't pretend that Cellius had been wrong any more. The realities were all to clear. No matter what, she couldn't risk love. Ever.
She had nothing to lose now. Whatever happened, she would have to leave here now anyway. The boy, what was his name, Vomyr? She had to remove herself from his presence, and from Legolas as well, if Lia was right. So she might as well do as she was supposed to. It wasn't as if it would make much difference.
Suddenly, she stood up, shaking dust from her skirts violently. "I...I have to go." she muttered, before swinging from the room and leaving him alone.
Subject: Preparing to see the King


Author:
Laeriel
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Date Posted: 20:32:51 07/09/02 Tue
Laeriel stared at her reflection. What she saw was a short, skinny, large eyed girl. With hair far to thick to be so straight and a way about her that made her seem too childlike to be thousands of years old.

What anyone else would see, though, was far from what she thought of herself.

What everyone else saw was a petite, beautiful girl. With large brown eyes that reached into the depths of anyone's soul, and blonde hair that cascaded down her back and glinted in the sun like desert sand.

Still, no one could convince her of that. She sighed at the girl who stared back at her from the mirror. At least my dress looks halfway decent, she thought to herself as she studied the light blue and silver dress that flowed over the curves of her body. It was made of a light, shimmery material; the blue underneath and a light, silvery, transparent material over her skirt. The dress was without girdle, it was cut to fit her body and came to a V low on her waist. Her sleeves were long, and fitted, and a pointed peice of fabric looped around her middle finger. She was wearing simple, silver jewlery, and her hair was unbound. The material of the dress was what Laeriel loved the most, it was so soft and light, and it seemed to float above the ground when she turned. She may have been older than any other living human, but the little girl inside her still loved fine things.

She turned to leave when she saw Rhylin, standing in the doorway. She opened her mouth to say something, but no words came. Instead, she smiled, the broadest, most happy smile ever smiled. She ran to him, and he took her in his arms and kissed her soundly. Now, we can face this together, she thought to herself as she and Rhylin turned to leave, and headed towards the throne room.
Subject: merrily she goes


Author:
sam/ryna/quoth
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Date Posted: 21:54:36 07/09/02 Tue
"Looks like nobody is here."
"Lets look in!"
"No! Ryna we can't do that."
"Look, if nobody is in there, which you said there wasn't, we will be okay." Ryna lent on the heavy door and pushed it open a crack. She whispered "you're right, there is nobody in there."
Sam whispered back "why are you whispering?"
"Well, why are you whispering?"
"You started it!" said Sam his voice getting slightly louder.
"Picky picky. Look the way I see it is that if the King isn't here, he will be in the throne room."
"How'd you get that?"
"Well, I've read many more books on Kings and royalty than you so I know more and they are always on their gold throne giving special comands and doing things with important information."
"Right."
"So we will go there" and with that Ryna flounced off down the corridor leaving Sam, mouth wide open, staring after her.
Quoth, who had moved to Sam's shoulder during the conversation looked after her and cawed softly. "Merrily she goes."
Subject: Escape


Author:
Aragorn
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Date Posted: 09:21:29 07/10/02 Wed
The metal bar dropped from his hand to clang onto the stone floor. Swiftly Aragorn bent beside his unconcious valet and, after checking his pulse, relieved him of his sword.

The weapon was a rapier, obviously more for show than actual fighting. Still, it was a sword. He strapped it round his waist and hefted the bar again, wincing as its rusty surface bit into his hand. It would be more useful anyway he decided, after all he didn't want to kill anyone and probably wouldn't with this borrowed toothpick.

He padded out of the cell. The door to the dungeons was not locked and Aragorn eased it open carefully. There were three guards gathered around their fire; too many to sneak past.
Subject: The tree


Author:
Aragorn
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Date Posted: 18:08:11 07/10/02 Wed
Aragorn's heart thudded as he swiftly climbed the stairs that led to the upper levals. Vomyr's sword was now clasped firmly in his hand; the metal bar discarded next to the comatose soldiers. Any moment someone would appear who would almost certainly not recognise the pauper clad in rags as Gondor's king.

He felt a drop of water on hand and looked up for the leak. Nothing was obvious yet the water continued to fall. Very soon he was soaked. Pushing strands of damp hair from his face Aragorn started to run faster.

What was going on?
It appeared to be raining inside.

He reached the throne room and stared in horror at the place his throne had stood just that morning. The sight of the giant plant growing from the palace floor; both lovely and terrible. A puddle of water was forming around his feet; spirals of the tree's red sap swirled through it. The crowd of bedraggled courtiers around the tree turned as he yelled "What has happened here?"
Subject: Entertainment


Author:
Olzag
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Date Posted: 21:10:39 07/10/02 Wed
The dwarf sneezed. A small sound, but enough. Olzag whipped his head around to leer at the dark bundle in the corner. An evil smile spread slowly over his face, eyes glittering dangerously. Time for some fun.

He dragged himself to his feet and lurched towards Gimli. He stared down into the dwarf’s face and laughed. He couldn’t kill the prisoner, but that wouldn’t stop entertainment values. Olzag drew back his foot and kicked the dwarf sharply in the stomach. Hobnailed boot met already bruised flesh. Waves of pain flooded Gimli’s body.

Olzag grabbed the dwarf by the scruff of the neck and hauled him upright. The Orc drew a shiny silver blade and pressed it against Gimli’s skin.
“My blade likes to cut...” he snarled, slashing through the gag and lightly scratching the skin. He liked the sense of power he had over the prisoner.
“What next? The beard perhaps?” Olzag grabbed a chunk of the beard and raised his blade.
Subject: Mettings


Author:
Brooke, Omiril ,and Whitemoon
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Date Posted: 21:23:27 07/10/02 Wed
" So why did you kidnap me?" asked the boy.
Brooke had been listening to this same question
for the last hour and it was starting to get to her.
Whitemoon was not helping by silently laughing everytime the boy asked the question. " I told you already to cause trouble now can you just be quiet before i lose my temper."

The boy stopped talking for half a minute before
he asked; " Are you a feairy?" " No i am not..."
she stopped talking when someone walked out from the
darkness. It was the witch she had seen before.
She watched as the witch simply walked into the small
camp sat down, took her pipe out and started smoking.

" You have a windwalker. My mother liked them. So," She leaned forward,"Why did you take the boy?"

Brooke looked at the witch for a minute. " I have been answering that question for an hour and i am not about to answer it again. You want the kid you can take him. I have no patience for children." She heard whitemoon make a sound that sounded a lot like trying to diguise a laugh with a cough. She glared at him and he suddenly became very interested in the tree behind him.
She returned her gaze towards the witch.
" What are you doing here anyway? Did you already make your decision on what you want from me? or are you just here to annoy me?"
Before the witch could answer another person stepped out from the shadows. She had green eyes and srtangely enough her long hair was green her ears resembled those of an elf exept that they were longer and her clothes were similiar to those of brooke exept that they were a yellow-green color. A sword hung at her side.

" So you found us," said whitemoon.
" Indeed i have and it has not been an easy task i assure you. Now that i have found you i wish to talk to brooke about leaving middle-earth and joining her dragon kindred in their land." the nymph said. She turned to anawiel
" Pardon my rudeness i did not give my name. I am omiril one of the last nymphs left in middle-earth. I was given the task of finding the young feairalev and her guardian and mostly convincing her of leaving to her cousins land. And you are?"
Subject: return to his home


Author:
Halbarad
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Date Posted: 19:45:04 07/11/02 Thu
He left at night at the same hour that he once came.
From the wild this man was native and thence he now returned.
To bird and beast and plant. He returned to his land from the town of Bree back north to his home he went. Warily and watchful yet with as great a speed he could. He walked never stopping. As he walked animals watched among them were some good of heart and some that were not so. He cared not of them as he was busy captured by the thought of his murder attempt. How could I have forgot that Gandalf was no more living with the men he had passed into the uttermost west? What a fool I have been. The lies Morgoth wove can never truly be lost. They will continue to control men to his command or the command of the others with him. He walked and thought for a many hour until he came to an area dense with trees. So much that he could see barely a yard infront. With sight gone you must rely on other senses such as smell and sound. This was the way Halbarad was taught from birth. He stood still and made no sound more than the sound of his breath, deep and silent. Through the trees came a language not native to the North Downs or the woodland surrounding. The language was the black speech taught to orcs in the time of Sauron. Revolting and painful to hear the words, if you could call them that, were full of malice. He listened yet knew not what was said as no free man by his own will would learn the black speech unless his life was forfeit. From the Dunedains lip came a call, that of the eagles. Down from the heavens now descended a hawk small and fast. Like lightning it came and landed upon the mans shoulder. Then in the same cry the ranger talked to the hawk and up it rose circling above the trees then heading east over the trees towards the voices then it was lost. There in silence sat the ranger waiting.
He waited for minutes until a cry sounded beyond the trees and quickly the ranger hid and vanished from sight. His garments all the hues of the earth had fulfilled their role to hide him at speed. He waited not moving an inch. He saw an arrow speed up through the air past a small dark shape. The shape was spurring upwards and turning towards him. The orcs had discovered the hawk and knew it to be one of the kinds that the free people befriended. It came and landed in the tree next to the ranger. It cried as fast as it could what have befallen and dropped from its claws a brooch. It was the brooch that was worn by the chief of the rangers. It was now his by right now Aragorn had a new people. He would always be the head of the Dunedain yet he could not be everywhere at once. While he was in his kingdom I would take his place. I will not replace him I will but cover for him while he be gone. He attached the brooch to his cloak and left after feeding the hawk some of his food as a payment. He left and headed of into the wild to think of what to do and where to go. As by this brooch he knew his people tried too early and were either destroyed or scattered. Something was mounting something to change the course of his life and of the other free people’s lives.
Subject: A Nymph


Author:
Anawiel
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Date Posted: 16:46:38 07/12/02 Fri
Anawiel surveyed the scene before her. It was rather comical in a way seeing Brooke's confusion twice within a minute and then manage to hide it. The girl was obviously well practiced in the deception of others. And so she should be, being who she was.

Anawiel merely sat and drew in a large mouthful of her smoke, twirling the slender pipe between her equally thin fingers, casting a delicate trail of the blue smoke around her.

Turning back to look at Brooke, she spoke softly, defining her words with deadly accuracy and a clipped tone so that she was made perfectly clear.

"I desire nothing of you Brooke. Do you not think I have magic enough to give to me everything I wish for and more? My magic is like yours. Chaos magic as an elf would put it. But all the same, how could I ask anything of you? There is no need." Anawiel tipped ash from her pipe into the fire causing the flames to flare up into a curved torrent of indigo sparks, "I have heard much about you. And from what I have heard," she smiled gently, "It would be a tiring thing to say the least to spite you, let alone annoy you. The child on the other hand is a separate matter. He is not for me to take, as it was not for you to take either. He should be returned before he is missed. You will draw unwanted attention to your prescence otherwise. It is advice that I say - not an order."

She was unsure of whether Brooke took heed of her words. She should, the sorceress thought, She must. For she does not know what His intention is, or what He could be capable of if she finds out.

Anawiel looked to the nymph, Omiril. Such beautiful creatures they were and many had resided near Anawiel's last home before they had left for the Western lands.

"I am Anawiel, a witch of Dol Gildur. It is little short of a true honour to meet you, your kind has always been held in high esteen by my people. But why should you to sent to take a Faeilev? She has a guardian in the Moonwalker, does she not?" She looked across at Brooke, her small silhouette rippling from the blue fire.

It was a strange situation to say the least and an air of unease filled Anawiel, clawing it's way into her mind like an extra sense. Which is exactly what it was. There was something amoung the nymph and Brooke that was slightly amiss.
Subject: Questions


Author:
Gimli
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Date Posted: 16:29:44 07/13/02 Sat
The orc's breath made the dwarf seriously consider passing out again. He felt the blood from his cheek trickle down towards his mouth where he could taste its salty sting on his cracked lips.

“What next? The beard perhaps?”

Gimli glared darkly and the disgusting creature and spat squarely in his eye. "You touch my beard you die slime face." He was aware that the threat was entirely hollow but he'd been pushed too far during the past short months. The blade edged closer to the auburn hair.

"Why are you doing this?"
Subject: at the 'throne' room?


Author:
sam etc
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Date Posted: 19:20:17 07/15/02 Mon
After Sam had caught Ryna up, they made their way to the throne room. Reaching the big doors, Ryna made to open the them.
"Ryna!"
"What now?"
"We can't just go in. What if he is in an important meeting?"
"They hold 'important meetings' in the 'important meetings' room. Live dangerously!" and with that she pushed open the doors.
Sam saw Ryna freeze. She turned towards him slowly, pushing the door open wider for Sam to see, and said "is that supposed to be there?"
Subject: The pub part 2


Author:
Madjael and Namün
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Date Posted: 19:06:24 07/16/02 Tue
Madjael hadn't expected Namün to take his words so seriously, at least not enough to start crying. She let out small hiccupy sobs in between the odd strangled wail. He felt horrible.
He got off the ottoman and walked towards her awkwardly wrapping his arm round her shoulder.
"Please don't cry. I didn't mean it. I'm sorry. I..I.." he wasn't sure if there was anything he could say to comfort her - not being entirely sure why she was crying in the first place. "Please stop it Namün." he shook her shoulders gently, "I shouldn't have asked you here, I knew that I'd say something stupid. I always do." Madjael felt strange holding her. It was like he wouldn't be able to let go when he needed and he wished he could just hold her for a little while longer. Just for a bit.

She opened her mouth to reply, but crying had closed her throat and all that came out was another strangled sob.
Carefully, trying not to disturb her, Madjael eased his body down beside her and pulled her into his lap. He held her close and rocked her gently as if she were no more than a child. Well, in a way, she wasn't. He was so tall that when standing she didn't even reach his shoulder. At times his size seemed threatening, but right now the strong torso and powerful arms enfolding her felt safe, and safer than she'd felt in a long time. He could hold off the world for her.

The silence of the room was punctuated only by the crackling of the fire and Namün's stifled sobs. When her tears dried she still said nothing, but rested her head listlessly on his shoulder, remaining so still and so quiet for such a time he thought she must have fallen asleep.
"You didn't say anything stupid."
Her voice broke the silence suddenly. It was made hoarse by the rough passage of her crying, and deathly quiet by her despair, but the words carried far enough to reach his ears.

He hadn't said anything stupid? Madjael's mind was slightly blurred and vague. He could feel the heat from Namün sinking deeper into his skin, feel every tremor of her sobs and every fluttering beat of her heart. He tightened his arms around her, pulling her closer to him so he could smell the soft flowery scent that lingered about her. Madjael buried his fair head among her soft black hair, its touch light and gentle to his rough skin.

"If I said nothing stupid, then why is it you cry, Namün? I don't understand?" he murmured quietly, "I don't understand anything anymore. Namün?" Madjael added lifting his head from it's resting place. He lifted her face towards him studying her eyes questioningly.

"I hate this! I hate it that I'm hurting you so badly, and I hate it that I don't know how to put things right."
She pulled her head away and rested it against him again, adding grudgingly "I hate it when you're right as well."

Madjael wasn't quite sure what to say in reply to her outburst. Everything she said confused him, as though he didn't really know her but a different Namün. The one he knew was...stronger. Didn't say how she was feeling unless it was dragged out of her. It felt strange. For the second time he pulled Namün closer to him, gently stroking her hair.
"You're not hurting me. I'm hurting myself. It's not you. It's never been you and you know it as well as I do." He spoke quietly, half hoping she didn't hear him. "I'm sorry," he added, kissing the crown of her head, "I really am."

The despairing tone of his voice tore at her even more. No matter what he may say otherwise, she was the cause of his misery. She nestled against his body, playing with the buttons of his shirt with her small fingers. When she spoke, it was in a distant voice, as if she were talking from somewhere faraway in her mind.
"Do you remember the last argument we had, before I left? I threatened to leave. You said that I wouldn't...that I needed you.
I thought you were wrong. But I'm beginning to think that maybe you were right. And some part of me still needs you. I might be strong most of the time, but I'm not strong enough. Sometimes all I want is for someone to take care of me, and make me feel safe. I've never had that. That's why this is my fault. I can't bring myself to make a clean break from you. And it's destroying you."
Subject: Introduction


Author:
Alator
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Date Posted: 20:28:10 07/21/02 Sun
It was a shame, Alator thought, that no-one had cared to question the old man who had mysteriously appeared inside the palace walls. Still, there had been the little incident with the fire, but the high elf had been more than capable. What suprised him, was that she hadn't been more curious about exactly what had happened. Yet now, when you listened to the voice of ths city, there was great power within it. The istar could sense all of it. Vanyar alone could not create this. There was danger stirring in the city.

Alator didn't really want to intervene with events right now, instead, he would have prefered a rather more subdued audience with the King. Although somehow, sitting
un-noticed in the darkest corner of the throne room helped no-one. The room was currently filled with a large, and some what out of place, tree. He had never been much of a horticulturalist, but he knew enough that it was certainly not natural. Not only that, but this was a tree from Valinor. Things did not bode well.

Rising to his feet, resting his weight against the blue topped staff, Alator made his way to the centre of the room. Elessar was looking a little disreputable certainly, and a little unappreciative of his recent addition to the furniture. He cleared his throat, and the attention in the room shifted off the King onto himself. "Your majesty, I know this may be at a somewhat inconvinient time, but I believe I may be able to help you. My name is Alator, and I am the last Istar on Middle Earth."
Subject: Power


Author:
Aralias
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Date Posted: 21:19:43 07/21/02 Sun
He strolled through the palace for a while; moving in the direction of the library but with no real purpose of movement. It was not the first visit to Minas Tirith for the tall elf so he had a vague idea of the libray's location and had he any real desire to browse its contents his feet would've found there towards the dusty room long ago.

"Are you lost sir?"
Aralias gazed with a well concealed look of distain at the small servant approuching him. "I'm fine; so kind of you to ask." He smiled warmly before moving past the little man and turning his steps towards the throne room.

“They’re still people! How many times have you spoken to a human in your life? They have thoughts and feelings just like us. And maybe you could kill them, but I can’t.”

She was denying a part of herself that would emerge sooner or later. He smiled ironically to himself; how little she thought of her own brother. She claimed to have changed but that was no longer even possible. My poor girl, her face appeared in his mind. If you turn away those who could help you how can you ever hope to change?

He felt the power surge before he felt its effect splash over his cheeks. She was finally doing something; it was about time. He quickened his pace and arrived in the upper gallery. Some of the young tree's branches dangled over the overly ornate rail that prevented the balcony's occupants from falling towards an untimly death. He moved smoothly over to them and laid his hand against the silky bark feeling the sense of her power beneath its surface. A bit dramatic perhaps, he thought critically but however dramatic it had obviously achieved its purpose. The king stood in the middle of the stock still an expression of horror upon his face. Aralias grinned, settled himself in one of the more comfortable chairs and waited for his sister to make her appearance.
Subject: Sorry if this doesn't fit with the story but I have orders from Becca


Author:
Anawiel
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Date Posted: 21:44:56 07/21/02 Sun
Anawiel walked towards the throne room. Her thoughts were still on the Faeirlev and the nymph.
The witch had taken the boy as Brooke had said she could. He was safely back in his room, his parents would never know he had gone. The sorceress had wiped the memories of Brooke from his fragile, young mind.
Her cape billowed around her in the draft running through the narrow passages the servants used. It was the quickest way to get anywhere in the castle.
She reached the throne room, the heavy oaken door slightly ajar, low voices echoing around the stone room. Anawiel gently stepped in, kicking dead roots away from her feet. There seemed to be a large tree by the kings throne, growing out of it almost. As if by magic.

In the centre of the room stood an old man, leaning heavily upon a staff. "My name is Alator, and I am the last Istar in Middle-Earth." The old man spoke softly but loud enough for the whole room to hear.

An Istar? Anawiel thought. Such wonders shall never cease.
Subject: Curiosity


Author:
Brooke,Omiril, and Whitemoon.
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Date Posted: 00:31:24 07/22/02 Mon
Brooke watched the exchange between both the witch and the numph. After a brief conversation the witch got up toook the child by his hand and left.

" That was strange. What happened?" she asked the nymph.
" That is not important what is important is that you leave middle earth immediatly. This world is becoming more dangerous by the day. It is no place for one such as you." Brooke was about to respond when whitemoon got up and sniffed the air. " Something strange is happening in the city." he said. Brooke waved at the small camp fire she had made and it went out immediatly. She took to the air closly followed by whitemoon. " Where are you going" omiril asked. " I think you know the answer to that nymph. And tell your superiors that they should mind their own bussines, i can take care of myself. Besides i have whitemoon with me." The feairalev and whitemoon dissapeared from sight and omiril was left alone in the forest.

She sighted. ' I might as well go see what is happening.'
She headed out of the forest and towards the city.

Brooke followed the witch at a safe distance and from high above. The witch had now shown brooke that she could trace
her if only by her magic. So she kept her magic from becoming strong enough to be sensed. She had been very foolish from the beginning of this task. She had not kept as low a profile as possible, not only that she had not expected One high elf, A silvan elf, and a witch to live in a place like this. ' What next?' she thought to herself, 'An Istari,hobbits, dwarfs? This place is the strangest place i have ever come upon. Though i truly do hope that there is no Istari here or i truly be in trouble. Them and their stupid iron binding cage spells.
The only kind of cage that can actually keep me binded for
five hours.' She shivered remembering a wizard by the name of Gandalf she had met when she was younger. He had been a very powerful Istari, and had been able to bind her for over twelve hours until her will had left her and she had promised to help undo the mess she had done. Thankfully she had heard he had left middle earth a couple of years back.

The witch went into the palace, but brooke didn't need her anymore. She knew were all the commotion was centered.
She kept to the windows of the trone room high up. She looked down at what was going on. " What's a tree doing in the kings throne room? and are those hobbits?"

Whitemoon payed no attention to her second question and answered her first, " I do not know what a tree is doing growing in the throne room, but that is no ordinary tree
if i remember correctly that tree comes from Valinor."
Brooke frowned. " How do you know it is from Valinor?"
" I have heard stories from elves about the place they come from, and this sort of tree was in one of their stories."

Brooke looked down at the tree. It didn't seem that grand to her." Do you think anyone would mind if i burn it?"
Whitemoon growled at her. " Do not even think about it!?"
" I was only wondering. If you don't want me to i wont."
" Keep your magic as low as possible brooke. There is an Istari here."
Brooke suddenly became very scared and did as she was told.
She looked down and sure enough there was a wizard standing in front of the king talking to him. Now she noticed that the witch had arrived. Not long after brooke saw Omiril run in and stare with wide eyes at the tree.
'This,'Brooke thought with amusement,' Is going to be interesting.'
Subject: Under Starlight


Author:
Celeborn
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Date Posted: 16:43:42 07/22/02 Mon
Celeborn sat, stroking her hair as she slept. It ran like liquid through his fingers, but she did not stir. Outside the dark sky was speckled with soft silver starlight. Yet one star was pale, faint, barely there. The first star of twilight, which always burnt so brightly, flickered as if a puff of wind could extinguish it forever.

And so it may be He said to himself. It may be that soon it will all be over for her. He had seen it all before, it could take months or days. It just depended what you had to live for. Arwen had something. But she couldn’t hold on forever. Yet one thing his kept tossing over and over in his mind. The line of Luthien shall never fail. But here it was, the direct descendant of Tinuviel, with at most, a few months to live. The old prophecys were beginning to fail, and the Sindar Lord now longed for the many years he had spent in Bereland. Indeed, he loved his grandaughter more than anyone else left on Middle-Earth, and had always tried to make up for her lack of one on her fathers side. Seeing her like this, it was almost enough to break his heart. It just didn’t seem fair. Not that it was fair, he was wise enough to see that. The agenda of Mandos was secretive, and often without clear reason. But everything did have a reason.

“Please,” He offered a silent prayer up to the Valar, “please let her find peace. Do not harm her now. Let her sleep in peace.”

Inside her mind, it was blank. Like an empty page- no words or pictures, emotions or feelings. Sleep had found her, and taken control.

Somewhere, someone was watching out for her.
Subject: Shock


Author:
Aryante
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Date Posted: 18:33:36 07/22/02 Mon
Aryante stared at the tree before her, growing from the throne she felt a huge surge of magic. Looking around her she saw with amazement a gathering of important and almost legendary races. The Istari, Elves, Hobbits, Dwarves, Faeries, every race of superiority that spoke the common tongue was here. Elessar however had not yet entered the room and the healer therefore knew no one in the room. Turning around she saw again the tree which had dropped a few red drops of blood and gasped.
Subject: Surprised


Author:
Omiril
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Date Posted: 19:03:23 07/22/02 Mon
Omiril ran as fast as she could into the city and towards the throne room, knowing that Brooke and whitemoon were heading there. She payed no attention at the people around her and instead ran into room thinking Brooke had done something.

She stopped and looked up with wide eyes towards the tree that was growing inside the room. ' This is no trick of Brookes, but what is such tree as this doing growing in here?' It seemed that in the confusion no one had noticed
an earth nymph staring wide eyed at the tree infront of her.
Subject: The meeting in the throne room


Author:
Vomyr and Legolas
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Date Posted: 20:45:08 07/22/02 Mon
He placed his hands in a thankfully unidenfiable substance and levered himself groggily to his feet. Swiftly he replayed his meeting with the prisoner and its rapid ending. His hand flew to his now empty side and a few choice curse words shattered the silence of the dungeons. So he had escaped and was now armed. The guards outside the gate were unconcious and he did not bother to wake them knowing his inability to answer the questions that would arise. He ran up the stairs and away from that place.

A frown passed over Legolas' beautiful features, like clouds across the sun. Where was it? Where had he left it? Tugging on his golden hair with slender fingers, he racked his brains for when he had last had it. Where...
Of course. It must still be in the training grounds. The excitement caused by the fire had made him more careless than usual, careless enough to leave something so precious to him behind. No matter, he could fetch it now. It was not entirely dark yet; it shouldn't be too hard to spot. Whistling lightly, Legolas headed to the archery greens in search of his bow.

"Who's in charge here?" he bellowed stunning the soldiers into shocked quiet.
"I am."
The words were spoken softly but with a sense of authority. Vomyr turned and beheld the speaker. "Gather a legion of your men and disperse them through the palace."
"I thought we just established that I was in command."
Vomyr glared at the general. "Can you just do it please? I really don't have time to argue with you."
The man moved ebony hair behind his ears and yelled orders to the assembled soldiers. Grumbling they picked themselves up, collected their weapons and assembled around Vomyr and his companion.

He found his bow where he had left it leaning against a fence and picked it up, checking its polished surface for marks. He had had the weapon for eight years; ever since Lady Galadriel had gifted it to him in Lothlorien. It had never failed him yet, and probably never would. The bows of the Galadhrim were crafted to last an eternity.
Over in another corner, near the barracks, a crowd of warriors were gathering. Curiously he went to see what the problem was. A few of the men, recognising him, gave muted greetings of acknowledgement, before turning their attention back to the man standing beside their general. Through the gloom he spotted the mans face. Vomyr? What on earth was a valet doing with a crowd of warriors?
His smooth voice cut calmly and authoratively through the murmurs.
“What’s going on?
Vomyr recognised the new face without difficulty. There were not many elves left in Middle Earth and fewer still in the city of Minas Tirith; besides he had had enough run ins with this particular elf for an angry glare to blossom over his face.
“Nothing that concern you.”
“Ah, Vomyr, there’s no need for that,” he said lightly. It seems my meeting with Aralias may have paid off. “Elessar is my dear friend, therefore any problem in his palace is my concern. I assume that there is a problem? Why else would you be mustering what appears to be a small army?”
Vomyr glared harder. “The problem, your highness is that after the king disappeared I discovered an impostor and imprisoned him accordingly. However due to some unfortunate circumstances the man has escaped and I am in the process of taking measures to prevent him running amuck inside the king’s palace. I would not have done such a thing had I realised the king’s close friends were taking any actions of their own.”
Legolas raised his eyebrows, rather enjoying the reactions of the valet. He was beginning to understand the motives behind Aralias’ charming exterior. It was rather gratifying to watch your opponent squirm.
“How…unfortunate. Of course, I would not dream of hindering your attempts to apprehend the felon. Carry on.”
He turned away regally, catching Sircyn’s eye and noticing the man’s broad grin. He returned it with one of his own.
“How generous of you. Now you, men, this man is armed and dangerous.”
He heard a snicker but ignored it “I want him apprehended as quickly as possible so as not to disturb the court. He may very well know the location of the king so I want him alive if possible but if it comes down to it you have my permission to kill him. Do you all understand?”
There were murmured grumbles and Vomyr glanced stonily at his audience. “Well what are you standing around for? Get a move on!”

Still groaning the soldiers started to move towards the palace. Legolas followed them, his light step and graceful walk a stark contrast to their grudging gait. They were just entering the shadow of the walls when he felt the sudden difference in the air. There was a power in it that was almost tangible- he could feel himself being softly enveloped in its clinging touch. The presence of Lómódë was everywhere like a delicate perfume on the breeze, and it was her familiar signature that made him look round in alarm. He knew enough of her personality by now to realise that she was shy of her powers, and preferred to keep them hidden. Something now was causing her to use them on a scale that even an elf of his few years and little experience could sense it. He quickened his pace sharply, trying to track the source.
“Something’s wrong.”

Vomyr heard the elf’s surprise gasp and started to run after him.
“Something’s wrong? What do you mean?”

The water started to splash around them. “It’s raining inside” he exclaimed loudly. “How is this possible?”
“I’m not sure, but apparantly it is,” Legolas said distractedly. “She could be in trouble. We need to find her.”
“Find who? We need to find the king but it appears that I was the only person to even question his absence.”
“Then go find him!” he almost shouted. His long strides ate up the ground quickly; Vomyr had to hurry to keep up.
“Don’t ignore me,” he was almost jogging now; sweat mixing with the water that trickled down his face. “I don’t understand what’s going on. Who’s this person we need to help?”
“Lómódë, I think. Either her or whoever she’s turned her trickery against. But you’re right. Aragorn’s just as important. You should go.” Go away and leave me alone he added silently.

Lómódë.

Suddenly all thoughts of the king and his plight fled from the valet’s mind.
She’s in danger.
After making such a fuss earlier however he could hardly turn around and search for Lómódë without looking a fool. His hatred increased as he turned down the passageway that led to the throne room, the place to start his search.
The elf chose the same route and Vomyr exulted; Lómódë was in the throne room.
“I’m going to the throne room,” he said smugly. “If you wish to accompany me then you are free to do so.”
“Your kindness astounds me.” Legolas said coolly. “If we’re lucky, she’ll be there, with an explanation for all this.”
His calm words did not make him check his steps however. Although part of the reason for this may have been an attempt to shake the valet from his side. Vomyr was like a leech- uninvited, unwanted, and unnecessarily hard to get rid of. As well as having a manner about him that brought to mind a creature living at the bottom of a pond. Legolas’ concern for his two friends was slightly abated by uncharitable thoughts of what it would be like to squash him beneath his shoe.

The rest of the short journey was conducted in silence. Vomyr was not inclined to make polite conversation and it seemed the elf was equally unresponsive.

The oaken door was flung open as they approached and the valet beheld the scene before him with an acute anguish. His ordered mind rebelled against the mayhem. The worst part was the enormous tree sprouting from the throne, he recalled that it had just been polished the week before; it would now never need polishing again.

Greetings, Prince of Mirkwood. His title echoed through his mind silently an edge of mirth riding on it turning the sign of respect into what was almost an insult. He stopped in confusion.
Who are you?
Look up.
Obediently, he turned his eyes to the upper gallery. Comfortably ensconced in a chair with his feet resting nonchalantly on the nearest rail was Aralias. The tall elf leaned forward and waved patronisingly down at the prince. He did not, however, seem in the least bit concerned for his sister’s welfare. Or surprised by the unusual events in the palace for that matter.
What are you doing up there? he thought furiously, not even sure if the other could hear him. Where’s Lómódë? Is she alright?
Don’t shout, think normally. You haven’t done this very often have you? Don’t bother answering it’s really quite obvious you’re as green as a new shoot. Lómódë’s fine; she’ll be along here shortly so keep your hair on wonderboy. It really would be a shame if you spoiled your youthful looks.
Wonderboy?!? Where had that come from?
Ah, well, he had the information he needed to know now. Lómódë was safe, that as what was important. Giving Aralias a sickeningly sweet smile he turned back to the spluttering valet and pasted an expression of helpful goodwill on his face.

In the middle of the room stood a man as shocked as himself.
“That’s him!” His voice rang out around the crowded hall. “Arrest that man, he’s been impersonating the king!”
Legolas looked at him in utter incomprehension. “If he’s been impersonating the king, he’s been doing an unusually good job of it. I can’t tell the difference myself. Are you sure he’s a fake?” he looked at Aragorn in amusement.
“Are you real?”
“Of course I’m real Legolas. I’m really not in a great mood at the moment so if you can restrain yourself from arresting me I’d really appreciate that. Vomyr I believe I have something that belongs to you.” The king unhooked the valet’s sword from around his waist and handed it to the astonished man. “I’m sorry I had to take it but being stuck in that dungeon forever was starting to look distinctly unattractive.”
“He’s lying! He just looks like the king. I’ve seen his real face!” Vomyr’s voice took on a hysterical tone.
“He is the king.”
Vomyr turned his gaze onto the other. “And how would you know old man?”
“I happen to be an Istar. I recognise that this one is of the line of Numenor.”

Vomyr's voice died in his throat and he backed away self conciously after accepting his sword; eyes downcast.

"Now we're all gathered together," Elessar's voice penetrated through the courtiers chatter, "would some one please tell me what in the world is happening?"
Subject: To the throne room


Author:
Eomer and Faramir
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Date Posted: 09:59:15 07/23/02 Tue
"Faramir, please come in," Eomer indicated with his hand for his brother-in-law to sit down.
"It has been far too long. I am so glad our paths have crossed once again, though I regret that I shall not be in Minas Tirith for long. Lothiriel is again with child and I wish her to be resting for the next few months, preferably in her own home."

Faramir settled himself down on one of the rather over stuffed chairs. He hated this room. Dull and dark- with memories that lurched out at him from time to time. It always happened around now. Tomorrow was Boromirs birthday. He’d always get agitated, angry and emotional around it. Only Eowyn knew how he felt about it- when he was with her everything melted away, like all his other cares.

She was beautiful. Her long blonde hair, now delicately braided fell about her shoulders, glowing as if it had caught the final moments of sunset. Her eyes sparkled like two diamonds set in the smoothest jet, and when he looked into them, they went on forever. He was so proud of her, everything she did, he was so proud that she was his wife. She, Eowyn, had chosen to spend her life with him, Faramir. He’d always been the younger son, second best, subsequently likely to get the second best girl. But that was wrong. She was seconded to no other woman in the world.

Right at that moment came a quick rapping knock on the door, startling the king and steward alike.
"Who is it and may they enter slightly more quietly?" the ruffled king spoke.

Again it was the nervous long-haired youth. In his hand there was a piece of parchment, folded over with a golden seal.
"A..a..a message from his M..m..majesty King Elessar." The valet stuttered practically flinging the note at Eomer, who slit it open.

The King requires the prescence of all officials living in or visiting the city and residing within his state rooms at this time. They are to be present in the throne room in the castle centre before sunset today.

Eomer read the note carefully before passing it to Faramir who shook his head bewildered.
“I overheard something about a meeting in the throne room on my way here. I don’t have any idea what it’s about though. I told you Aragorn was missing and I can’t think who can have called it if I didn’t”

For a second time the king spoke to the nervous boy.
"Valet; please would you be so kind as to fetch a nanny or healer to care for Elfwine this evening. I must go and wake my wife. Then we shall depart for the throne room with the Steward and Stewardess. You may go."

Eomer had never seen anyone look so relieved in his entire life and the valet hurtled himself through the doorway. Before he could go and get her, Lothiriel came out of the bedroom, in a clean dress with her hair brushed carefully into place. She smiled gently and offered her hand towards Eowyn.
"I am so glad you're here. I don't think I could stand being stuck in Minas Tirith without another woman to talk with." Lothiriel's voice was quiet and calming, washing over Eomer. He couldn't help grinning stupidly to himself, before a small smirk from Eowyn caused him to blush slightly and look away.

"Shouldn't we be going now?" Eomer wanted to get to the throne room as soon as possible, so as not to catch Aragorn in a bad mood.

The four of them set off along the many curving passageways, talking cheerily about the last time they had met. Eomer was pleased to see that Eowyn and Lothiriel were getting on well, and felt content enough to talk about more important subjects with Faramir, such as the king's current status.

"Arwen left him?"
"I don't know for certain although rumours tell he is bedding a young servant girl. I wish someone could get him to see what he is doing, not only to himself - but all of his peers and citizens as well." Faramir sighed, "But I doubt a single soul in the city could knock some sense into him."
"'Tis a great shame indeed. I believed it to be true love, or love enough for Arwen to give up her immortality. Elves do not give into their hearts easily as a whole." Eomer shook his golden head grieviously. It felt so unlike Aragorn to do such a thing.

Soon they came to the very centre of Minas Tirith and a large wooden door. The king reached forward and held it open as Lothiriel, his sister and Faramir walked in. As he turned to follow them, a shocking sight met his eyes.

There, nearly on the throne itself, grew a tree. A huge tree that strangled itself hundreds of times over, curving through it's own branches and oozing a thick, dark liquid.
A sturdy mallorn tree had sprouted from the ancient throne, a sickly soft scent covered the room.

The fragrant flowers mixed with the reeking stench of blood.
Subject: Fear and Confusion


Author:
Eowyn
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Date Posted: 14:53:46 07/23/02 Tue
Would someone please tell me what in the world is happening?

It was a very good question, thought Eowyn. A harsh rain fell, showering them all with confusion as well as bitter cold water. The droplets mingled in with a dark red liquid that ran down the roots of an enormous tree, growing from the wood of the very throne itself. It's knuckled branches twisted like writhing limbs and rested on the floor, in a pool of blood.

Eowyn shivered and locked her fingers through her husband's leaning into him to for protection. For what, she did not know, but she felt that protection was needed from something. The gathered audience waited with held breath to find out what was behind these unearthly occurances.

Her damp clothes stuck to her body like a second skin, so that she felt as if she were standing naked. Her dripping hair fell over her shoulder, feeling like a great snake was wrapped around her neck. She longed to run from the room, away from the unnatural rain into the safety of her own room. She did not want to have to face the dangers that threatened to unveil themselves in answer to the king's question.

The silence seemed to be stretched over eternity, until the sound of someone clearing their throat echoed around the room. Eowyn pressed her hands over her ears, feeling like a small child, too afraid to listen to what would be said.
Subject: Prisoner


Author:
Olzag
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Date Posted: 19:50:21 07/23/02 Tue
Olzag snarled at the insult and pressed the blade harder against the dwarf's skin. Live prisoners were more trouble than they were worth. There had better be a good reason for the trouble the dwarf was causing.

Still, he daren't kill him. Olzag thought of the last leader of this band of Orcs. He remembered the tortured body hung from the branches of the tree. Hacked off limbs on the ground below. The crime committed? failure to capture the designated target. The elven prince had escaped unharmed. The stupid dwarf had stumbled into the trap instead.

A commotion at the entrance to the cave drew his attention. Another Orc had arrived. A messenger, the trap was ready, only the bait was needed. Olzag reluctantly removed his sword and grabbed the dwarf by his beard, dragging him to his feet.
"Move" he growled prodding Gimli in the back with the blade.
This had better be worth the wait. He could not afford to fail. His master gave no second chances.
Subject: Washing Up


Author:
Harion
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Date Posted: 22:02:54 07/23/02 Tue
The soapy suds clung to his arms as he washed yet more plates and jugs. Drea was standing silently by his side drying and putting away. Her face was blank and closed and she gave only one-word answers to Harion’s attempts at conversation. He paused briefly to look at the slight girl by his side. He tried to imagine what it would be like to not be able to see. He closed his eyes, surrendering himself to the inky blackness. It was horrible. He jerked his eyes open again and reached for another plate.

The urge to see Drea smile became more insistent. Harion flicked a drip of water at her. She didn’t seem to notice. He flicked some more and she turned to protest. Before she could complain, Harion scooped suds from the surface of the water and wiped them on Drea’s chin.
“Look, a wizard. Pleased to meet you kind sir” He said solemnly shaking her hand.
Drea giggled and wiped the suds from her face. Reaching forward she felt the edge of the sink and plunged her hands in. A wave of cold soapy water flooded Harion, making him gasp. He retaliated by filling a cup with water and flinging it in her direction.

Savinia entered the kitchen bleary eyed and sleepy. Her plans of a drink and return to bed were dashed when Harion drenched her. She stood there, dripping, staring in horror at her clothes. Slowly she raised her head, eyes narrowed angrily. Then she saw Drea laughing. She stared in surprise, such a rare sight. She forgot the state of her dress and joined in, guiding Drea’s aim for the best results.

None of them noticed Drea’s parents enter the kitchen. All were in fits of hysterical laughter, slipping on the drenched floor and still attempting to drown each other.
Drea’s mother took in the flooded floor, a broken plate and the childish behavior of her staff. Her husband witnessed his daughter laughing, having fun. He couldn’t remember the last time he had seen her this happy.

At the first shout, Drea stopped guiltily in her tracks. She turned towards her mother, shamefully hanging her head, soaked, pale blond strands of hair hanging beside her face like rat tails.
“What on earth is going on?” Harion turned to face the angry woman.
“It’s just a bit of fun” he tried to explain. At this Drea’s mother exploded. Harion and Savinia listened to the scolding, trying not to giggle. The situation was stupid, yet the Mistress was so serious.

A few minutes later Harion was alone in the kitchen, scrubbing the floor. Drea had been swept away to get dry. Fussed about as a mother hen watches over her chicks.
Savinia had disappeared, the room was silent. Harion knelt back on his heels and thought over the consequences of the fiasco. Would this ‘Bit of fun’ lose him a valuable job?
Subject: The throne room scene (at last)


Author:
Faeirex, plus several cameos
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Date Posted: 23:07:56 07/23/02 Tue
And the palace rained the tears which she herself could not shed. It wept where her own eyes were dry, and it wailed where her voice lay silent. It wasn’t that she didn’t want to cry. It was just that she couldn’t any longer. She was numb. A heart of ice, and a face as cold and still as marble. If she were cut, would she even bleed now? She didn’t know.

In the darkest of night, in the most hopeless of situations, every creature, however weak, however hopeless the task, will fight. It is instinct. Every creature wishes to survive.
Faeirex had been fighting for longer than she could remember, yet all she could see were shadows. She could not live in this world of light and happiness. And if that was so, then she would survive without it. She would embrace the dark, and through it she would become stronger.

As the doors to the throne room flew open, a sudden gust of wind caught her hair and dress, blowing them back from her face in streaming ribbons as if she were the figurehead of a ship, heading out to do battle with rough seas.
I didn’t do that.

Sorry sister, I just thought it might look impressive.
At the voice in her head her eyes flickered upwards for just a second, not long enough to be noticed by anyone in the room, but long enough to catch sight of Aralias. So he didn’t even trust her to do this properly.

As she walked forwards slowly, steadily, the room gradually became silent, all eyes turned to the newcomer. When she judged the moment to be right she raised one hand and murmured, “Tampa.”
The rain stopped; the air was full of a tension so thick it threatened to choke those it surrounded. Causing ripples in the shallow water around his feet Aragorn moved towards the vision that had just appeared.
“I take it you are the one responsible for all this.” It was not a question.
“It was necessary.” she said serenely, not even bothering to look at him.
“It was necessary for my throne to sprout into a tree? It was necessary to cause water to fall from my ceilings causing the servants several weeks worth of labour? Forgive me if I do not see the necessity of your situation.”
Still without glancing in his direction, one of her hands made a strange gesture. The water evaporated from the ground and furnishings with such a speed it left thin tendrils of steam in its wake. If she had spoken, the words would probably have been something along the lines of “Happy now?” But she didn’t speak. Silently, she crossed to the tree and laid a caressing hand on its smooth trunk.
“From Valinor, where the blessed dwell.” she whispered. And it seemed she spoke not to them, but to the tree itself. Yet this was not the voice of Lómódë any more. It was older, wiser, yet timeless. Beautiful and distant, and filled with love for the thing before her.
His voice a husky whisper Vomyr mouthed “Who are you?”
Her eyes moved to him briefly.
“Whoever they want me to be.”
She turned back to her tree and laid both hands on its bark now, eyes closed.
“You scared it. It’s young.”
“The tree is scared? If it’s a tree why is it scared?” Aragorn’s voice was slightly harder than normal after his experiences in the dungeon. “Why is it bleeding?”
Still lost in a world which they could not follow her to, she answered dreamily. “It bleeds for all those who have died, and for all those who will. Its blood is shed for you all.”
“What do you mean?” Legolas asked sharply. He moved forwards and reached out a hand to touch her, but the air around her crackled and he drew back quickly.

Faeirex’s eyes opened suddenly and she swang around, coming to a halt just in front of the astounded king, but seemingly unaware of him. She stared piercingly straight through him, leaving him with an uncomfortable feeling, as if she could see his innermost feelings.
“Beware, Elessar Elfstone,” she intoned. “The Dark Lord lives still. He is coming. He is coming, and he will not rest until he has seen you destroyed. His armies will bear down upon your city and upon those you hold dear. Rise up and meet his battle cry, or beg for mercy at his feet. For if you should fall, the free peoples will fall with you.”
Subject: Turning point


Author:
Brooke
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Date Posted: 00:25:41 07/24/02 Wed
Brooke watched as the doors to the throne door opened once more and in came," That's the female elf from the training grounds." she whispered to whitemoon. " Yes she is. So now she reveals her true self. One of the high elves. This was unlooked for." Whitemoon said. Brooke payed close atttention to what the high elf was saying, " It seems we are not the only who know of the Dark Lords return. How amusing, she is berly telling him, I think it's a little to late for the warning. The dark lords armies are on their way here, the kings army has not fought a battle in a long time, I have made sure that they have a hard time. Their chances of winning are quite slim."
Whitemoon looked at Brooke who had a look of content on her face. " Does this mean we can leave?" he asked already knowing the answer.

Brooke shook her head. " No The Dark Lord asked me to stay here until i was contacted by one his servants," she frowned rembering something the Dark Lord had said in their first meeting," He want's me to help in something else but i don't know what it is, he did say it would be a challenge."

' This job is proving a challenge in its self. I do not think i have done something that will actually crippple
Minas Tirith.' She half listened to what was being said,and concentrated more on how to actually hurt Minas Tiriths defenses.
Subject: Repercussions


Author:
Harion
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Date Posted: 08:50:12 07/24/02 Wed
Savinia rapped sharply on the wooden door. There was no answer. She knocked again, finally giving up and opening the door.
The room was small and dark. The roof sloped down at an odd angle leaving awkward corners and jutting out timbers at head bumping level. Harion was standing silently next to the tiny window. His back was turned, ignoring her. She moved across the squeaky floorboards, sat on the sagging bed and waited. Still no response.
“How does it feel..” she said at last. “..to be able to do nothing wrong.” Harion shifted slightly, obviously thinking about what she was saying.
“Nothing wrong!” he said bitterly. “Just lose wages to pay for broken plates, lose a job and end up back where I started.”

Savinia smiled.
“Shame, I thought you would be more positive.” Harion turned to face her.
“What about?” he muttered darkly.
“The fact that the owner of the Tavern is not dismissing you? I’ve just spoken to him. He sounds like you’d given him the moon. I couldn’t believe it. The last employee was dismissed for being slightly rude to a customer, and you get away with all that!”
Harion looked puzzled, “But why?”
“Simple really. Drea likes you, you made her laugh. Gold dust in this place.”

“That’s the only reason?” Harion picked up a scrap of cloth and twisted it viciously into different knots.
“Yep, and a good one. Drea means everything to her parents and she doesn’t have a lot to laugh about. They wouldn’t get rid of you now....if..if you burned down the Tavern and jumped on top of it.”
Harion laughed and relaxed. Savinia turned to go, stopping in the doorway.
“You’re a good kid Harion.” she said “I like you...and I don’t like a lot of people.”
She hesitated. “If there’s ever anything I can do for you?” she raised an eyebrow questioningly. Harion smiled and shook his head.
“Thanks, but no. Wouldn’t your customers get jealous?” Savinia laughed.
“Some would.” she admitted and left closing the door behind her. Harion turned back to the window in silence.
Subject: Throne room part 2


Author:
Faeirex, Aragorn and Aralias
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Date Posted: 13:07:31 07/24/02 Wed
The person inside Aragorn who had been Strider started to rebel against the situation. Sauron back? that couldn't be right. It was impossible. This part melted away and allowed the part that was Elessar to rise to the surface; the part able to handle this with diplomacy. "My dear lady, I'm afraid you must be mistaken. Sauron's power was bound up with that of the one ring. When it was cast into the fires of Mount Doom by the halfling Frodo Baggins the Dark Lord perished with it. It is simply impossible for him to have risen again."
"Because a mortal is such a judge of what is impossible and what is not? Would you have said it was possible for a living tree to grow from dead wood? Would you have said it was possible for rain to fall from stone? Yet here you stand, and you see that they are."
"You misunderstand me lady," Elessar spoke bristling with supressed anger. "I have seen miracles before; usually by the hand of Gandalf the White. He taught me long ago to never question the impossible becoming possible. Yet Sauron's doom was fortold long ago. With the one ring destroyed he has nothing to hold him to this world. Do you doubt the wisdom of Mithrandir of that of the Lord Elrond?"
"Nay, but nor do I doubt my own. Sauron's life force was tied to the ring yes, and while it existed he could not be killed. The destruction of the One Ring did not take away his life, only his immortality. And now he is strong again, and seeks vengeance upon his enemies."
Whatever answer he had been expecting this was not it. "So all the time I have been seeing to the irrigation of my fields and arranging balls the Dark Lord has been growing in power again?" The concept that had been so alien to him just moments ago suddenly became all to solid and real. "How are we to defeat him?" he asked more to himself than any other. "We barely defeated him during the War of the Rings; the war to end all wars. Then we had the strength of Mithrandir and the elven people. Now they have departed I fear our final hours are not far away. How long have you known?" he said turning on the fragile creature in front of him. "If I had known our armies could've been readied by now. Why was I not told?"
"Because it was not the time for you to know." she said unemotionally.
"Not the time for me to know? Not the time? And now is the time? I've just spent 10 hours of my life in the darkness of one of my own prison cells listening to all the ideals I believed in 5 years churned out by some youth who was locked up for stealing an apple. Do you know what the worst part was? Knowing that I no longer believed in anything he talked of. But if now is is the time I shall not argue with fickle fate. All I would ask of her is that she give me more warning if in future I am once again called to protect the free peoples from their sincerest enemy with an army of untrained boys"
Be as ice She raised her head and concentrated her gaze at a point somewhere behind his head. "That is not my problem. I have delivered my message. What more would you ask of me?" Gathering her skirts she glided forwards towards the door.
"So you've delivered your message and now you're done with us?" He felt rage boiling inside his veins but allowed it to do so prefering it to the overwhelming sense of fear her previous words had induced. He strode forward and seized her arm; swinging her around to face him. "You can't just waltz in here, tell me something like that and run away. What more can I ask of you? Everything. Anything." He paused the anger subsiding. "You told me this concerns all the peoples of Middle Earth. Does that not also include yourself? There must be something you can do avert this disaster I have caused through my carelessness and arrogance." He forced her to meet his gaze; forced her to see the desparation that dwelt there. "Help me. Or if you will not," he gestured round the room, "help them. I cannot alone."
She stood caught by his gaze, meeting his eyes for the first time. One of the line of Númenor, asking her for help! If he had known... "Please," she managed to mouth, "please let me go."
She began to shiver under his touch, unable to hold off the memories which invaded her mind. The guilt was terrible, crushing. She shook her head, still unable to put voice to the words.
"I'm sorry...I'm so sorry."
He had to strain his ears to hear her. He grabbed her other arm with his free hand to stop her escaping. "You're sorry? You mean you won't stay?"
That wasn't what she was sorry for, but it was better he should think that than know why she was indebted to him. "It's not my choice to make" she whispered.

"She's right; it's not her choice. So why don't you just let her go, your majesty." Aralias' voice was calm and low as he gracefully descended the stairs from the upper balcony. It still managed to reach the king's befuddled ears.
He turned releasing one of the lady's arms in the process yet keeping a tight hold on the other. "And who in Mordor's name are you?"
"Someone not to be trifled with. She has told you that she can do nothing more. All you are doing is wasting valuable time you should be preparing your armies."

Faeirex wrenched her trembling arm from his grip. In a breath meant only for his ears she told him, "I can't." Raising her voice so every soul in the room could hear she added, more certainly, "I won't". Ripping her eyes away from his face, she fled from the room.
Subject: Dreams at Sunset


Author:
Cellius
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Date Posted: 15:18:40 07/24/02 Wed
The setting sun sank behind the mountains around Carenina, it burned an orange-red and seemed to bathe everything as far as the eye could see in a golden glow. Cellius drumed his fingers on the arm of his large chair, stuffed with goose feathers and covered in the skins of many exotic creatures that had been slain for food for his people. His black, curly beard served as the only cover for his bare chest, for his robe was left open. Men in Carenina often went without shirts. His emerald green eyes glitered with many distant thoughts as the cooler air that comes at dusk blew across the city. It was at this time mothers called their children inside, and wrapped babies in their blankets and put them to bed. It was also at this time that one could find Sahrien and the King talking about the events of the day, perhaps while sharing a bowl of fruit or a cup of plum wine.

Cellius missed his children. Every day they were away he mourned their absence. They were all he had left, after Cassidra's passing.

Cassindra, the very thought of the name made his heart sing with joy and cry with pain all at once. Cassidra was his wife, and the mother of his children. He longed once again for her presence. She could calm the most violent of storms with only her loving touch. If only he had known her before he had met Faeirex, perhaps she could've quieted her rage. But he had known Faeirex long before he knew Cassindra, long before he had children of his own. Faeirex was the nearest he had been to having a daughter of his own before he married Cassindra.

But she was not a daughter. She hadn't come near to being one, though she had been in his heart, she still was. She wasn't a daughter, though. Cellius realised this one afternoon when he was watching Cassidra nurse Derrion, his curly black hair and dark olive skin contrasting against the fair skin and blonde hair of his wife. Her deep brown eyes were filled with the utter joy and love that comes from having children. She looked down at her son and smiled as she stroked his brown cheek. Cellius marvled at how his two sons could look so little like their mother, and so much like him. He remembered watching them grow, their curly black hair soon mirroring his own, and Arracus's green eyes changing from those of a child to those of a man. Derrion had brown eyes, like his mother, yet they had the shape and essence of Cellius's. What a shock it was when Laeriel and Sahrien were born, he mused one night while holding Laeriel. She was such a fussy baby, it was near impossible to put her to sleep. Cassidra watched them from around the corner, smiling to herself at the contrast between the two in looks, but how very much alike they were. Cellius smiled as Laeriel slowly closed her brown eyes, her sandy blonde hair was long for a baby, and her skin was as fair as her mother's. She was such a mirrior image of her mother, that Cassidra cut her hair when Laeriel was older so as not to confuse them.

She was even beautiful with her hair cut short, Cellius thought one evening as caught sight of his wife and her daughter, Laeriel, walking home after a long day of gathering berries. Cassindra's hair danced around her ears and brushed her chin as the cool breeze that only blew at dusk gave relief to the humidity that was earlier in the day. He smiled, Laeriel may look as her mother, but she was twin to him in personality. The fire that burned in him also burned in Laeriel. That was why he and Cassidra were so perfect for eachother, she calmed his burning soul.

What would he ever do without her? He thought to himself on that rainy day they buried the only love he'd ever known. His heart died the day those love-filled brown eyes closed forever, never to see the sun again. He watched as dirt slowly filled the deep hole she lay in, and a part of himself lay with her, never to be returned to him again. But even as the last shovel full of dirt was thrown onto the grave, a small part of him was happy, happy to have the privledge to have loved someone so perfect and pure. How terrible it would be to never love at all. And as his daughter's sobs reached his ears and forever scared his soul, he remembered the day he had told someone they could never love.

He always wondered why he did it. Why tell someone they can never love? How could that possibly help someone? He thought one day, long after his wife had died and the wounds her death left where as healed as they would ever be. Never in his life would he regret anything more than telling that scared young girl that she could never have the greatest joy anyone could ask for. He knew that day, he had ruined what chance she had at life forever.

It was dark now, the sun had set long ago. Cellius had been too deep in thought to notice. The cold of the night wrapped itself around him, though, and pulled him from his thoughts. He closed his robe, surprised at how cold this night was, cold and dark. A feeling then crept up inside him, a sinking feeling that his words to that elf long ago had done more damage than any words anywhere could ever do. He knew it would happen, she would eventually fall in love, and the guilt that love brought would kill her. It would bring guilt because she had loved before, and will love again, and her love would kill as it always did. Cellius walked to his window, and looked into the darkened sky. Please, Faeirex, come home. Come home before it's too late, or I shall never see you again. He knew there were forces bringing each of them out of this world; He would die before this was over, and so would she. Although he knew faeries posessed not the power of telepathy, he still hoped his words would reach her. A little part of him thought they did, or hoped they did, prayed they did. Every part of him wished for his words to reach that tortured soul that had been cheated out of happiness by the cruelness of fate. Or else it would truly be too late.
Subject: Quoth


Author:
Aralias, Sam, Ryna, Quoth
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Date Posted: 22:22:04 07/24/02 Wed
Sam stood shocked. Sauron couldn’t be back. It wasn’t possible. Not after all Frodo had been through; it wasn’t fair. It couldn’t be true.

But it was. As much as he or Aragorn could protest it seemed the impossible was happening.
“Who’s coming back Daddy?”
“You remember the bad man Uncle Frodo and I vanquished?”
“I always thought that was just another story. Like that silly one about the pirates that didn’t make any sense.”
Indignant Sam exclaimed, “didn’t make sense?! It was a master piece!” Focusing back on the situation at hand he sighed. “It was fictional however. Sauron was, is about as real as they come. He’s incredibly powerful and incredibly dangerous."
“Death when it cometh shalt have no denial! Farewell my good days they shalt soon be gone” intoned Quoth seriously.

Aralias watched the commotion distractedly before following the route his sister had chosen. Suddenly he stopped hearing a voice that was familiar and yet not so. A mischievous smile lit his face and he halted before the small party of hobbits. His attention focused on the bird seated on the shoulder of the girl child. Sweeping a deep bow he knelt before her.
“Well young lady, what are you doing in such infamous company?”
Ryna giggled. “I don’t understand what you mean.”
“This is your father correct?” He pointed at Sam who was talking to Merry and Pippin anxiously off to one side.
“Yes,” Ryna answered apprehensively.
“Unless I am much mistaken and” he added in a confidential whisper “I am not usually wrong, your father was one of the original fellowship that accompanied Elessar and the ring bearer into Mount Doom.”
“Really?”
“Oh yes. Samwise Gamgee is really quite a remarkable young hobbit.”
Ryna laughed again. “Daddy’s not young.”
“He is compared to me.”
“How old are you then?”
“That’s considered quite rude but as you’re young I’ll humour you. Thousands of years at least. I forget exactly how old.”
"Wow that’s really old! You are way older than my dad! I'm only 6, I'm the cleverist around my daddy says. I'm even teaching my raven how to speak common!"
He smiled inwardly at her enthusiasm. "Wow that is clever. But I don't believe you about the raven."
"Oh, you haven't seen my raven, I found him in the woods. I named him Quoth, quite a clever name I think. He is right here on my shoulder. I will prove it to you. Quoth say hello in proper common to the nice man."
"Hello good sir," Quoth did an extravagant bow, stretching his wings out either side of him. "I hope you are feeling well and are not too downhearted about these unfortunate happenings?"
"Charming," Aralias grinned. "You trained him all on your own?"
"Yes, all by myself!" Ryna smiled proudly about her achievement. "When I found him he had completely lost his memory and daddy wasn't too keen on him at first. I had to promise to keep him 'out from under foot' as daddy put it. You can pet him if you like, he likes that, he's very friendly."
Lia stretched out his hand and the raven alighted on his outstretched wrist. Standing up he stroked its downy back. "So my friend how are you enjoying life as a bird?" He almost laughed at loud at this chance meeting. "I'm really very sorry you had to be a raven but it was a last minute thing and I honestly couldn't remember the arrangement of the hawks tail feathers."
Quoth squawked in confusion "This tender lamb knows naught of what you speaketh!"
"Tender lamb? But of course the amnesia. I had forgotten. It's for the best really," he murmured more to himself than to the startled bird still clinging to his sleeve. "He's most impressive young lady," he announced handing the girl back her pet. "Your father must be very proud of you. You must excuse me however. My sister is in urgent need of my presence and I must leave you." He bowed again and brushed her hand with his lips. "It has been a pleasure making your acquaintance and that of Quoth."

He strode out of the throne room and out towards the stables.

His own horse Elemmiire neighed softly as he approached and he reached out to stroke its silky nose. The animal nosed his tunic and he laughed gently. “Nothing for you today I’m afraid.” The horse looked vaguely reproachful and he reflected on how much it had changed in his company, how much more than a dumb animal Elemmiire had become. “There’s a nice long gallop though.” He opened its stall and Lemi walked out and waited patiently for him to release his sister’s steed. “Lets go then.”
You’re talking to a horse Lia, you’re losing it, he thought with a grin.

The courtyard was completely deserted.
“Lemi, stay,” he ordered trusting that the stillness of his own mount would inspire the same in Faeirex’s.
Dusk had fallen and the white tree’s petals were open. He cupped one in an open hand and inhaled the glorious fragrance. “I remember you at the beginning. We are two of a kind; neither one has changed as the world has grown around us.”

He heard shouts, released the flower and gathered up the horses’ reins again
Subject: Isildur


Author:
Faeirex and Legolas
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Date Posted: 22:30:59 07/24/02 Wed
Legolas followed her from the room and grabbed her arm, wrenching her around with a strength that surprised even himself.
“What do you mean, you won’t fight?”
“Exactly what I said.” She told him in the calmest voice she could muster. Her voice was cold. “This isn’t my battle.”
“This is your battle. You are the one who brought the news, and you are the one who says we must fight. Why shouldn’t you stay and fight with us?”
She bit her lip, still hoping that she could leave before she hurt him further. “I have done enough killing. No more shall die under my sword.”

Legolas looked at her, puzzled. “Why have the Valar blessed you with this talent if you are not to use it? Sauron is the enemy of all the free peoples. Would you have us lie before him in chains?
“Not for all the world, if it was in my power. But it isn’t, not here.”
The threat of tears kept her voice low yet dimmed none of its intensity. When she looked at him, a spark of hope leapt into her eyes. “But if you come with me, come away from here, you will be safe. I can protect you from him.”
The puzzlement switched fast to a mixture of disbelief and outrage. Did she really think that he would accept her protection, when it extended only to him?
“And leave all my friends and all the people I care about behind? You would have me run from Sauron like a coward. I won’t. When he comes I will be here, standing beside Aragorn. Please, please say you will be there too. We need you.”
Faeirex shook her head as the first pearly tears slid down her cheeks. “You don’t need me. You don’t understand. You don’t need me, and you shouldn’t want me either. Elessar wouldn’t, if he knew the truth.
I can do many things, but this isn’t one of them. I can’t look him in the eye and be treated by him as a friend. I can’t stand beside him and hold my head up high. I can lie to him, but I can’t lie to my heart. And my heart knows I don’t have the right to even look upon his face, let alone fight with him as a comrade.”

Legolas stepped back a pace, scrutinising her carefully. What she had said worried him more than he was prepared to let on. Perhaps it was the distress she was clearly in. Something weighted her mind. Probably the same thing that had been worrying her for months, never confiding in anybody. He desparately wanted to reassure her that things would be okay, but deep inside he wasn’t sure that they would. He wasn’t even sure if he would even still be alive in a few weeks time.
Raising one hand to her face, he wiped away her tears, coming to a decision.
“What have you done?” he asked gently, “I promise you, it doesn’t matter. None of it matters. I’ll forgive you, and so will Aragorn, whatever it is. This is far more important than anything in your past.”
“Why would you do that? Instant forgiveness, no questions asked.”
He opened his mouth to respond, to tell her that he trusted her, or that he knew she regretted whatever she’d done, but for some reason he didn’t. For some reason, his mouth chose to listen to his heart rather than his mind, and tell her the truth. Perhaps it, unlike the rest of him, had realised that this could be his last chance, that Lómódë could leave now, and might never come back.
“Because I love you. Because I’d give anything to make you happy. Isn’t that enough?”

She backed away, aghast. Shocked at his words, yes, but even more shocked that they weren’t entirely unwelcome to her. For a moment, she could see a future where she could be happy, where she could have love.
The image first blurred, then dissolved before her eyes, to be replaced by cold, hard truth. She couldn’t have him, and by saying he loved her, he had just condemned himself to death.
“You can’t love me!” she stammered. Please don’t love me, please don’t love me.
“I can. I do.”
“Fine then. Don’t love me. You don’t know anything about me!”
“Then tell me something.”
She stopped, seeing her choice clear before her. She had hoped to keep her past a secret, but that had changed now. Now his life hung in the balance, and if she could not persuade him to turn from her, he would die. Just how much was she willing to lose to prevent that?
Everything.

Hesitantly, she asked him “If I told you something terrible, something more also than you could possibly imagine, what then? Would that convince you that you’re wrong?”
“Try me.” His voice was grim and urgent and both his hands grasped her arms, forcing her to face him.
“What if I were to tell you that I had brought about the deaths of Gil-Galad and Elendil? That I brought them to Mordor knowing that they would die.
And that after that, I plunged all the West into Darkness. I aided the Ring on its course of destruction.”
“I don’t understand. What do you mean?”
He didn’t want to believe what she was saying, yet could not refuse to hear the truth in her voice. She didn’t answer, and he shook her, shouting.
“What are you telling me, Lómódë?”
Faeirex began to cry again, realising what she had done. She had just severed all links with these people. Once she left here now, she could never return. Voice a mere whisper on the wind, she answered.
“I killed Isildur.”
She tried to pull away from his grip, but it didn’t relax. She looked at him, and saw only the disbelief in his eyes, two blue stars in a face that was as immobile as stone. Hurting from a hundred agonies, a hundred stabs to her heart, she lost control.
“Listen to me, Legolas!” she screamed, the tears running down her face. “I killed him! I killed them all!”
Wrenching her arms free, she fled, sobbing desparately.
Subject: Ice Fire


Author:
Brooke
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Date Posted: 22:44:59 07/24/02 Wed
"Whitemoon let us leave this place. I have just had a brilliant idea." Whitemoon looked at Brooke. " What kind of idea?" he asked. Brooke smiled. " You will have to wait to find out." She took off closely followed by whitemoon.
***********************Hour later***************************
"Finally i found it!" brooke said as she opened the door to the armory. She took her bow positioned it and before whitemoon could say anything she fired the Ice Fire arrow
on one side of the room. This time she was gonna make sure that everything here would burn to a smoldering pile of dust. She fored twelve more Ice Arrows, and watched as they quickly engulfed the entire room and everything in it.

She smiled and closed the door. " What did you do that for Brooke?" Brooke smiled down at an annoyed whitemoon. "I did my job that's what and this time anyone who tries to put out the fire with out the help of powerful magic will find themselves drifting of into sleep for the next week or so."

She jumped out the window and spread her wings, heading back to the throne room.
Subject: Love/Hate


Author:
Faeriex and Aralias
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Date Posted: 18:30:28 07/25/02 Thu
The speed of her departure surprised him and so it was some time before Aralias nudged Elemmiire into a canter. “Fae!” he called after her rapidly retreating form. “Fae, stop! This is stupid.” She did not answer him as the swiftness of her mount increased.
He bent low over his horse’s neck. “Now’s your moment Lemi. Gallop.”
He felt Elemmiire’s muscles bunching beneath him as the animal hurled himself into the chase. They were nearing the forest edge.
“Faeirex! This isn’t amusing. You can’t run forever.”
She continued into the dense undergrowth and he sighed and rode after her. Once inside the forest he lost sight of Carenina’s white coat.

Closing his eyes against the distractions of the visible world Aralias focused on his sister's essence.

She had finally halted about half a mile from his current location.

He dismounted and walked over to where she was crying quietly. "There was nothing more you could do. Don't blame yourself for their reactions" he said softly his hand on her shoulder. "You knew it would be like this. It always is.”
She flinched and pushed him away. Startled by the sudden movement, Carenina darted sideways, 'accidentally' stepping on Lia's foot as she moved.

He stumbled backwards cursing as he went. "How would you like to fed to my hounds?!” he shouted at the frightened animal. Still muttering "stupid horse" he advanced cautiously back towards Faeirex. "Don't cut me out Fae. I'm probably the only one left on Middle Earth who understands what you're going through. But you have to talk to me first."
"I don't want to talk. I don't want to be understood. I just want to get away from here."
"We are away," he pointed out un-helpfully. "And you may not want to be understood but it's hardly you concern if I want to understand you."
"Stop being facetious." she muttered. "You got what you wanted. I told them, didn't I? And you were right about Legolas as well. But now he thinks I'm a cold-hearted murderer, and I can never go back there again. So you can have fun gloating, but don't expect me to join the party."
He shook his head solemnly. "Fae, I don't gloat when it's important and I think we can safely say that the return of Sauron is one of the more important things that going to happen this age. And as for Legolas I don’t want to say “I told you so” but I did warn you about him. We’re lucky we left when we did. He's better off back there without you. Wonderboy survived the War of the Rings; he can survive this."
"I know he's better off without me, but that doesn't mean it doesn't hurt." She let him see the tears that still shimmered in her eyes. "I liked him Lia, I really liked him. If he dies, it'll be my fault."
He lost even the semblance of patience. “For gods sake grow up Fae! How long are you going to sit here crying about how awful your life is this time? You are Faeirex of the Valedhel. You should be stronger than this. And yet every time we seem to go through the same agonising struggle. Enough is enough. This isn’t your fault. Sauron’s returning; even if you hadn’t arrived there’s a good chance he would’ve perished. Your warning gave them the time to prepare that they desperately need; you’ve given him the only chance at salvation he has. Be thankful for that and stop crying before I go back and kill him myself.”

The tears stopped.

One half of him was happy to have achieved his objective the other registered that he’d just alienated one of the only people he had ever loved.

He tried to keep his voice calm: “Much better. Now let’s leave. The horses are fresh; the night is young. We can make it halfway to Rivendell tonight and then it’s on to Lothlorien.”
“Lorien?” she looked up at him and he caught a flicker of some new emotion in her face.
“Yes. I thought we might be able to stay there in relative security while the war rages around us. It’s practically unoccupied now the Lord Celeborn has departed.”

She stood up before him, her eye level just below his own.
“How dare you,” she hissed.
“What?” he whispered aghast.
“You think after 5000 years you can show up and dictate how I should live my life?”
“I’m not!”
“Understand this Aralias, you are the last person who could ever induce me to do anything against my will.”
“Fae I…”
“And as for Legolas if you even knew anything about him what you’ve just said would only be appalling. As it is…”
There was nothing he could think of to say.
“To think I even believed you’d changed.” She was crying again, the tears falling thick and fast. “How could I have been so stupid? You’ll never change I know that now. You’re still the same arrogant, irritating, condescending pig you’ve always been.”
She stepped up close as the palm of her hand smacked against his cheek. He reached up to touch the inflamed skin and opened his mouth to utter a blistering retort. But nothing came.
“I hate you,” the words came from her, soft but full of passionate rage.
“You can’t,” he breathed.
“Don’t tell me what I can and can’t feel Aralias. You don’t have any idea.” She leapt into Carenina’s saddle and kicked her horse into a run.

Lia tried to follow her but his feet wouldn’t move. Looking down he saw that the plants around his feet had grown thin tendrils, which were wrapping themselves deliberately around his lower legs.
“Faeirex!” he screamed desperately into the darkening night.
Subject: The palantir


Author:
Aragorn
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Date Posted: 17:52:49 07/27/02 Sat
Aragorn collapsed into a sitting position on the floor and drew his knees up towards his chest. Holding his head in his hands he lent against the young tree.

This can’t be happening.

“This can’t be happening,” he said again this time out loud in a vain effort to try and make it fact. “It just can’t.”

He felt a drop run down the back of his neck and reached out to touch the tree’s bark. “Don’t be afraid,” he said surprising himself with the ease the words came. "No one here intends to hurt you.”

He could hear the assembled courtiers begin to titter but he was beyond caring.

The king beckoned one of the many servants over to him. “Would you be so good as to fetch the patantir from my study?” The man nodded and left hurriedly. For the time he was gone Aragorn sat in stillness oblivious to the outside world.

“Sire, the stone.”
“Thank you.”
He was dimly aware of the presence of others within the room but he focused his attention on the whirling mists inside the stone.
"You thought I was dead so you took my palantir and ran away?"
The words rose involuntarily to his mind as he gazed into its blue depths. Unbidden an image of his wife surfaced inside the orb. Her skin was almost translucent; her once lustrous raven hair seemed lank as the Lord of Lorien soothed her into slumber. He recognised the room in which he lay as the one he had stayed in as Estel; had she remembered and chosen it purposefully?

“For he believed that, he knew, the hearts of men are easily corrupted. Except...it took a ring of power with Isildur."

Her words haunted him even as he beheld her dying image.

"Did you honestly believe I did not love you? When I chose a mortal life, did you not realise that I loved you more than life itself?”

Mordor. Focus on the mobilisation of Mordor, he told himself sternly. Arwen faded from the palantir and the semblance of the armies of darkness took her place. His eyes widened in horror as he watched the enemy numbers grow. Suddenly the orb grew warm and was filled with the giant eye, red and lidless. Horrified he flung it from him.

So she had spoken the truth and they were doomed.

Leaning against the tree for support he pushed himself to his feet, avoiding the sight of the still glowing stone.
“Ladies and Gentlemen,” he said slowly. “It appears that while we slept Sauron has reformed his armies. We must regrettably begin preparing for war for it is upon us.”
Subject: Seeing stone


Author:
Brooke
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Date Posted: 22:27:22 07/27/02 Sat
" Si the elf is not going to help. This job is turning easier than expected." Brooke said more to herself than to whitemoon. " And he hasn't even noticed the nymph in the midsts of his people." Brooke watched as the king sat and ordered someone to bring him something. The servant resturned with a stone and gave it to the king. " Why does he want a stone whitemoon?" " It is one of the seeing stones. with it he can see what he wishes."
Not long after the king had been staring at the stone he lifted his face and spoke to those around. " Ladies and Gentleman," he said slowly," It appears that while we slept Sauron has reformed his armies. We must regretably begin preparing for war is upon us."

Brooke smiled. " I'd like to see them try!"
She was a little surprised when the nymph suddenly looked up to where she and whitemoon were.
Subject: Rivendell


Author:
Dormallen
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Date Posted: 22:41:12 07/27/02 Sat
Dormallen paced the corridors of the Last Homely house.
Rivendell had become even more quiet since many elves had left Middle Earth years ago. Now not much went on in Rivendell. The sounds of laughter that used to be heard coming from the Hall of Fire were no longer heard. When his father and brothers had left for Valinor he had decided to stay behind a little longer since back then he spend most of his time traveling Middle Earth. Why he had stayed after he had grown tired of his travels he could not say, But he had a feeling that he would soon find out. Meanwhile he had heard that The Lady Arwen had returned to Rivendell.
' Perhaps i should see how she fares.' He thought
Subject: Found


Author:
Arcon
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Date Posted: 23:00:52 07/27/02 Sat
Arcon and Aldarion watched from the doors at all that had happened in the throne room. " So they finally know. A little to late for that i think." Aldarion said with contempt. " We can not underestimate them," Arcon said," It seems unlikely but they do have a chance after all they have weapons and men. They will also have the help of other kingdoms." Aldarion looked at Arcon " Perhaps you are right but it is still unlikely their men have not fought a battle for a long time." " Then we shall let time tell its tell."
Arcon said.
Arcon was very surprised when he saw the nymph in the middle of the room looking quite at a loss, but what surprised him the most was when she looked up and following the direction of her gaze he saw the feairalev perched on one of the window sills with the Windwalker at her side.
" Aldarion look there is a nymph here and not only that she has just spotted the feairalev." Aldarion idmediatly entered the room and looked up towards the where the nymph was looking. ' I have found you little one.' he thought with a smile. He would have tryied to shoot her if Arcon had not convinced him that it was not the time. " For now we must act as if we do not know her." Aldarion lowered his bow. " You are right, we will wait. Now let us leave before the Windwalker sees us or we will truly be in trouble."
They headed out.
Subject: Forest Wanderer


Author:
Sahrien
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Date Posted: 03:22:25 07/29/02 Mon
Sahrien stood next to her sister in the throne room, her mouth slightly open in disbelief. Though she had known that a threat was growing somewhere near to them, she could never have guessed that it was Sauron himself. A thousand thoughts rushed through her mind at once. Primarily, how could this possibly happen? Had not the Fellowship done it's duty and vanquished this foe many years before? Preoccupied by her thoughts, Sahrien barely heard Laeriel lean into her and whisper in her ear, "We must talk to Elessar, now."

Sahrien nodded her head, and whispered back, "I'll go and fetch Arracus and Derrion, you and Rhylin go to him without me if I am not back soon." She knew not where her brothers were, only that without them she was half of what she would be with them. Though they can stand alone, the four faeries were stronger together. She pulled her cloak around her, covering her black curls with the hood, and set off to find her brothers.

********************************

She had been searching for at least an hour, and her brothers were nowhere to be found. She was near the woodline, thinking perhaps they were in the forest on a beautiful night like this. Cold, but beautiful. The chill of the night seemed to whisper in her ears and tickle the hairs on the back of her neck. "Winter's coming," it said in it's sing-song voice, "Time to rest, time to sleep, the animals sleep in winter. The trees sleep too, why do you not prepare for sleep?"

Sahrien pulled her cloak close around her, "I do not sleep," she said, mostly to herself, "Because I prepare for war." She turned her emerald eyes upward, to look at the stars. They had given her foremothers guidance, she asked them for guidance now. She let her soul become lost amongst the twinkling diamonds in the sky. She asked mother earth to help her and her people in their time of need. A few crystal tears ran down her frostbitten cheeks. She shivered, the night was getting colder. She turned to go in when she heard yelling a little farther into the woodline. Immediately she crouched down, slinking catlike through the trees and undergrowth. As she got closer, she began to understand some of the conversation, she recognized one of the voices as the elf, Lómódë, and another male voice speaking to her. She thought perhaps it was Legolas, but she soon realised it was a voice she had never heard before. She crept closer and closer. Slowly, she was able to see the two figures before her.

“You think after 5000 years you can show up and dictate how I should live my life?”
“I’m not!”
“Understand this Aralias, you are the last person who could ever induce me to do anything against my will.”
“Fae I…”
“And as for Legolas if you even knew anything about him what you’ve just said would only be appalling. As it is…”
There was nothing he could think of to say.
“To think I even believed you’d changed.” She was crying again, the tears falling thick and fast. “How could I have been so stupid? You’ll never change I know that now. You’re still the same arrogant, irritating, condescending pig you’ve always been.”
She stepped up close as the palm of her hand smacked against his cheek. He reached up to touch the inflamed skin and opened his mouth to utter a blistering retort. But nothing came.
“I hate you,” the words came from her, soft but full of passionate rage.
“You can’t,” he breathed.
“Don’t tell me what I can and can’t feel Aralias. You don’t have any idea.” She leapt into Carenina’s saddle and kicked her horse into a run.

Lia tried to follow her but his feet wouldn’t move. Looking down he saw that the plants around his feet had grown thin tendrils, which were wrapping themselves deliberately around his lower legs.
“Faeirex!” he screamed desperately into the darkening night.

Sahrien was confused and suprised. She had never seen Lómódë act so. If that was her name, Aralias seemed to call her by another name, Faeirex. She shook her head slightly, none of this was making any sense. Who was this new character in the everlasting drama of Minas Tirith? Aralias was his name, it sounded familiar, somehow. So did Faeirex. She'd have to go back to find Laeriel immediately, she was probably already speaking with Elessar by now, it had been at least an hour since she left. Sahrien turned to leave, but she stopped. The forest was quiet, too quiet. Aralias wasn't making a sound, she let out a sigh- he had spotted her. She knew at once that he had to be an elf, no mortal man has ears and eyes sharp enough to spot a Faery in a darkened forest. She turned to face him, pulling her hood off of her head. It was as she had thought, his icy blue eyes were fixed on her. She swallowed hard, he was not in any mood to be bothered. Sahrien could only wonder if her Faerien charm could get her out of this mess, it was something all she-Faeries posessed. It could draw mortal men away from their homes and families, and force them to live in the forest, never to return to life outside again. But against an enranged Elf? She turned to face him squarely, taking a deep breath to make herself feel stronger. Her lower lip quivered nervously as she shakily exhaled, "Well," she said, her musical voice cracking a little with fear, "You've caught me."
Subject: Captured


Author:
Aralias
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Date Posted: 18:26:23 08/01/02 Thu
Cursing under his breath Aralias glared down at his lower legs.
"Let me go! Obnoxious excuse for vegetation."
The plants remained firmly attached to his breeches. More profanities escaped his lips. Bending down he tore the greenery from the soil and finally from his garments. Flinging the lifeless green bodies from him he contemplated incinerating them but decided against it. Setting the forest on fire was not really an effective use of his power and no matter how much better he might feel it would not accomplish anything in the end. He contented himself with an evil look in the direction of the pathetic bundle.

Something brushed past a pile of dry leaves.

Keeping his body motionless Aralias scanned the forest floor for signs of movement. Someone had observed his conversation with Faeirex.
I hate you.
His eyes threatened to grow moist but stubbornly he ignored them. Why should it matter this time? It's been said before. One day he would accept this verdict but not today. No, not yet.

His gaze focused on the small form of a woman. She obviously realised she'd been spotted because she turned and removed her hood allowing him to observe that she was not a woman at all; she was a faery. The logical part of his mind rebelled Fae destroyed their race millenia ago. As illogical as it was, however, he had to accept what his own eyes told him: the girl standing before him was a faery.

A very young faery.

A very young faery who was doing her uttmost to charm him. Hoping that no creeper still clung to his ankles he led Elemmiire over to where she stood cloaked in fear's mantle. He felt the wave of good feeling wash over him ineffectially and smiled down at the girl. Gracefully he took her hand and raised it to his mouth before lightly kissing it. Her skin smelled of rosemary and almost in spite of knowing it was all an act he felt himself drawn to her. She was good, he would have to give her that. Unfortunately she was practicing an art he had perfected himself long ago.
"Caught you my lady? No I think I am the one caught, for you have captured my heart."
Subject: Storm


Author:
Brooke, Omiril
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Date Posted: 20:56:35 08/01/02 Thu
After the initial surprise of being discovered Brooke smiled down on Omiril and waved.
Omiril frowned. She was sure that Brooke had done something bad. She couldn't see why Whitemoon stood behind her on everything she did. He never seemed to try and right her wrongs but then again he kept her from really doing something bad. Omiril signaled for Brooke to come down. She clearly saw the surprise in the Feairalevs face. ' So,' she thought,' This people don't really know of her existense.' Omiril sighted. She had planned on talking some sense into the Feairalev and make sure she returned home. Then she would finally be able to explore Middle Earth a little longer before returning to her home too. It all had seemed so easy when the remaining elders had asked her to perform the task. " All you have to do," they had said," Is convince the Feairalev to leave for her cousins homeland. When this happens Whitemoon will return to the land of his kindred where perhaps others that did not take a step upon Middle Earth still live. At least that is what we hope." Looking back at it now Omiril saw how folish exepting this task had been. But now here she was. She now had two choices; Walk away from this or help in the distruction of the Dark Lord. She knew that Brooke worked for the Dark Lord but she had sworn no oath. She was free to choose any side or leave one and if she wished return to it. She also had weapons the Dark Lord had given to her freely perhaps he thought that he could buy her loyalty with that. But Omiril knew better. The only way to buy a Feairalevs loyalty was to save her or, in this case, save Whitemoons life. The Dark Lord had been a fool giving her those weapons. Especially because they belonged to the elders of Middle Earth. The bow she seemed to carry with her was once a treasured weapon of the High Elves. She was sure she had the staff that belonged to her race. But that was not a problem. Anyone could use the staff but it would only be at the beck and call of eighter a High Elf or an Earth Nymph.She could easily deal with that problem. She would not call the elders to the aid of this people. At least not yet. She would attempt to help them and convince Brooke to come to their side. If that did not work she would call on the elders for help.

' Now what do you suppose that Nymph is thinking?' Brooke thought. She really didn't care it was time to get back to her job. But exacly what else could she do? She thought for a minute. ' I could let the horses out, or start new fires everywhere. Wonder how they would deal with earth fire but then again the earth fire is used to bring forth life from the earth not to hurt or destroy it.I'm not about to use the wind. That would kill with out mercy. I do not kill only keep of guard.' she smiled " Whitemoon I think this place needs a little more green on it." spreading her wings she flew away. Whitemoon shook his head and followed.
She looked back at the palace. " Yes I do believe this is good enough." She raised her bow and shot forth a green arrow. It struck the ground ten feet from the palace grounds, the green fire spread faster than any wild fire and all kinds of plant life came to life growing at a rapid pace and becoming even bigger than what their natural size should be. Brooke went around the palace shooting arrows. by the time she returned to where she originally had been. the palace was sourrounded with giant trees and other kinds of plant life that were unaturaly tall and thick. No one could find their way out of there, exept for elves and Nymphs who could climb the tall trees and swing from their branches. She then fired a blue arrow towards the sky and a minute later a storm had come down with full force. She shot a light green arrow into the wind and it dissolved into the wind atracting wind and making it blow faster and making it stronger. The storm and all its fury centered itself in Minas Tirith and nowhere else.
Brooke and Whitemoon made their way out of the city and back to the forest.
' This,' Brooke thought,' will most certainly keep them busy.'
Subject: Attacked


Author:
Tinel
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Date Posted: 08:46:14 08/02/02 Fri
Tinel looked around. Long recovered from the would that had scarred his right shoulder (thank goodness he is left handed) and is on his way to te palace to see Faramir about more orc patrools. He had another soldiur with but he had gone ahead to scout the path for orcs well Tinel set up camp. He did not notice the small movement in the bushes behind him. He heard the twang of a bow string an whirled half way around. The arrow that would have hit his chest hit his arm and Tinel could smell the stink of orc-made knockout poisen. As darkness swirled around his vision and he saw a orc face infront of his before he heard and saw no more.
Subject: Trap


Author:
Sikalas
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Date Posted: 09:00:34 08/02/02 Fri
Siklas was at the wall of Helms Deep. He thought of the small group he had sent to capture or kill the warrior that they had attacked earlier. He said they were to take him to another group of orcs south from this camp. The ones looking for the elven prince. They had at least one other prisoner. Siklas gritted his teeth. He jated that warrior. The warriors he had summoned had reduced his 60 odd warriors too 12. It was hard to spare them. He had also sent three warriors to look for other orcs that had survived the war. With one last look at the camp Siklas leapt with suprising agileness down the wall and to the orc camp. He would not tolerate mistakes this time.
Subject: Charm


Author:
Aralias and Sahrien
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Date Posted: 21:20:39 08/03/02 Sat
Sahrien trembled with fear as the strange elf walked towards her. He'll kill you, Sahrien, she said to herself, No, he'll tear me appart, limb from limb, then he will kill me. She shifted position, her heart beating faster with every step he took towards her, he had seemed so angry before, You're in for it now, ought to stay out of other peoples business, she thought. His hand extended toward her, she winced slightly as he took her hand.
"Caught you my lady? No I think I am the one caught, for you have captured my heart."

She smiled, beaming with relief. It was as she had hoped, he was playing her game. A game she loved dearly. She bowed her head, "Pardon my intrusion, how rude of me to eavesdrop on a private conversation. Please forgive me."
"I fear I would forgive you if I found my family murdered at your hand lady; my soul is yours to command." He grinned roguishly. "Besides it is I who should be apologising for holding my private conversations so loudly. I hope I have not disturbed your solitude?"
"Nay, it was I who disturbed yours. You see, I was walking along the woodline when I heard voices amongst the trees. That is what brought me into the forest," Sahrien replied, "Now that I have come, though, I wish not to leave. For I have stumbled upon something far better than solitude," she said, with all the charm and grace she could muster.
Aralias fained surprise. "Then that makes two of us," he said and squeezed the hand that still held hers. He wondered silently how long he could hold those fingers before she became uncomfortable and chuckled inwardly, unless he had lost his touch it would be very long indeed. "Forgive my impertinence but will you allow me to escort you back to the palace? It rapidly grows dark and this forest is not a safe place to be at nice when one is as beautiful as you are."
Sahrien forced herself to flush and giggled girlishly, "Nothing would give me more pleasure than to have you as my escort," she said, letting her hand slip from his. He was good, very good. She wondered who he was. He seemed to be familiar in some way, almost as if she should have known him, but never got the chance. She brushed past him, making her way towards the palace, "Shall we?" She said, cocking her head slightly to the side in a way that made her irresistably innocent.
Her hand was free of his; a blow to his ego certainly but one he could cope with. "Just give me a moment." He walked over to where Lemi had wandered off during the exchange he had seen played out a thousand times before. Lia stepped up into his horse's saddle and trotted back over to the faery and offered her a hand up. "We'll make better time if we go on Elemmiire," he explained.

She extended her hand, accepting his offer to help her up. He pulled her up, a bit too hard, obviously misjudging her own strength. She steadied herself and sat just behind the saddle, setting her hands gingerly around his waist. remember, slowly, don't throw yourself at him, she said inwardly. She could tell he was trying just as hard as she. So, this was something he also enjoyed. She took this as another clue to who this mysterious Elf could be. His presence upset her, he was such a mystery. Unlike any other Elf she had met, there was something disinctly different about him. Something that put him above all other Elves she had known. She had always felt the same way about Lómódë, there was something odd about the two of them. She leaned closer to Aralias, "From where do you come?" she asked.
"Now there's a question..." he began before deciding better of it "without an interesting answer. I came from Lothlorien origionally. I grew to love it and its lord and lady. But eventually my restless spirit drove me from its peaceful woods and I have spent the past thousand years wandering through Mirkwood and..." At this point Lemi, knowing the drill by now, started to behave uncontrollably interupting Aralias in the middle of his fabricated history. The horse's bucking movements forced the girl behind him to grasp his waist tightly and an almost invisible smile touched the corners of his mouth. "Lemi! Stop that at once," he ordered authoritorally. The animal, sensing its fun was over once more quieted down and they moved on once more. "I'm terribly sorry," he turned to look at her apologetically. "He sometimes gets like this but it passes quickly." He grinned reassuringly at her and turned back to watch the road. A pointless excersise as Elemmiire knew exactly where they were going.
Sahrien almost laughed. Did he not not know he was dealing with a Faery? She knew Elemmiire's bucking fit was just an act, and a clever one at that. Yes, this horse was very clever, he refused to tell her who Aralias truly was, she didn't believe the story Lia himself had told her. Elemmiire, or Lemi, as he prefers to be called, insisted that he knew nothing about Lia, other than that he was an elf. Sahrien sighed with frustration. An Elf that tells nothing but untruths and a horse that refuses to talk, something wasn't right. She decided she'd play along with him, though, just for the sport, "Mirkwood, then you must know Legolas," she said, hoping to catch him in his lie.
"You know Wonderboy too then do you? To be honest with you I've only just made his aquaintance. I saw a couple of times in court of course but I haven't spoken to him properly until this visit to Minas Tirith. He seems alright, a bit dim perhaps but then that can't be helped. How do you know our prince?"
"Well, it's a long story," Sahrien said, not really wanting to reveal the details of Laeriel's visit, "I really don't know him very well, either. I've spoken to him but a few times, and only briefly. I've always thought him to be quite nice, very polite and noble," she finished, making a point to loosen her grip around Aralias's waist. A bit dim, eh?, she thought. He was obviously a bit arrogant.
"You disapprove of me?" he guessed as she let go of him. "I take your meaning. He's everything I'm not. Believe it or not you're not the first to say it. Oh he's noble alright. That's part of his problem, if he would only loosen up he would be a much more interesting person."
Sahrien laughed. She tightened her grip around his waist once again. Despite his slight arogance, she liked him. She liked him alot, mostly because she knew nothing about him, and that posed an appealing challenge. She felt the breeze catch her hair. What fun this was. She hoped she would see Aralias many times more. Strangly, a little part of her knew she would. The shared something, a past or a future. Somehow they were connected, whether it be by fate or an actual person, she did not know. But she had the feeling he was familiar with someone close to her. It was all one big mystery. She bent foward, raising her voice slightly to be heartbeat above Lemi's hoofbeats, "Are you familiar with the Faeries? Since you are a traveler, and all. Perhaps you've met one of my kin."
"Perhaps," he admitted. "I was in the faery realm last century unless my memory fails me. I found it an extreamly plesant experience although once again I felt myself compelled to move on after no more than a decade." They reached the city walls and he dismounted in order to help her down.
"Thankyou."
"It was my pleasure. At first it was a bit disconcerting to have you talk to my horse instead of me but he's better looking than me so I guess it's to be expected." His eyes twinkled merrily. "From your conversation with Lemi I know you know my name, in this you have one over on me. May I be permitted to know the identity of my lovely passenger?"
She smiled and walked in through the city gates. "My name's Sahrien," she called before disappearing from sight.

Aralias mounted Lemi again. "You did well old friend. There's a bag of grain awaiting you." The horse moved eagerly in the direction of the city but Lia tugged his reins the other way. "We're finished with that place I'm afraid." Elemmiire neighed, irriated. "We couldn't get back in anyway. The feairalev has sealed the palace... No we aren't going to help them... It's on to Rivendell for us." He pulled the reins impatiently again. "Lemi grow up. Lets go."
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