Of Wraiths and Kings, and Friends and Rings (Calling All Nazgul)

[Lotesse]

"My Captain," greeted Viniglaen, giving the Morgul Lord a slightly anxious, yet deferential quick curtsy. There was an amused little glint at the corner of the Chancellor's steady grey eyes; little Viv was the only one of the Nine who ever gave him the odd yet ladylike little curtsies. He was the only being toward which she showed such respect; the only being she would bow her head to. To Viv, the Captain was a father figure, yet always she was tongue-tied and eager to be perfect in his presence. He knew all this, of course, and always found it somewhat endearing, if through his legendary emotional ice he could be endeared of anything, or anyone.

"To what do I owe this surprise visit, young one?" he asked.

"I - Lady Gordis and I , we felt we must inform you right away of some strange occurances we have noticed tonight." began Viv. "Lady Gordis is still downstairs right now, though; she - we saw this man on the floor of the Scriptorium, he had fainted or something. She stopped to assist him. "

Vivvie pushed her hood off, and nervously held her hands in front of her, trying to keep from playing with her fingers, trying to stand perfect and tall, and trying to look composed.

"You want to inform me of a fainted man downstairs in my Scriptorium?" said the Captain.

"No, my Captain. That is, no - I mean no, not a fainted man, it's about Lilaenwen, and our comrade Udu, and the Man-King Valandil; odd things going on, sir. Odd things. I - "


Mercifully, just then, Gordis' footsteps could be heard approaching the Observatory.

[Gordis]

Minas Aran, after 8 PM, Wednesday

The Captain watched, outwardly impassive, how Viniglaen the Ninth stood in front of him. She tried to appear composed, tall and proud, but her diminutive height - the top of Viv's head hardly reached the Morgul Lord's breastbone - made her efforts rather humorous. The deep violet eyes looking up at him were not in the least funny, though, but profoundly troubled and intense.

"No, my Captain," continued Viniglaen, "that is, no - I mean no, not a fainted man, it's about Lilaenwen, and our comrade Udu, and the Man-King Valandil; odd things going on, sir. Odd things. I - "

"Are they all lying fainted in my Scriptorium?" smiled the Captain, trying to dispel the tension. He had to admit it didn't help much.

At this moment, Aiwendis's tall figure appeared alongside Viv. Putting a protective arm around the little one's shoulders, she replied quietly "We have found Sapthan lying alone in the Scriptorium, unconscious. Apparently he was poisoned by inoculation - there were angry punctures on his right hand's palm. The poison was not lethal, and Sapthan is out of danger now. He remembers nothing of what has happened. We have found nobody in the Scriptorium, or in the Library."

The Morgul Lord nodded. "I think I know what happened. I had a visitor, whom Sapthan would have never let in here, against my orders."

"Who was that?" asked Aiwendis, frowning.

"It doesn't matter now," replied the Morgul Lord icily. "Let Sapthan think it were Elvish spies, prowling around his cherished books. Continue. What is the matter with the King, Udu and Lilaenwen? "

Suddenly loosing her composure, Aiwendis hissed "The crazy fool Lilaenwen told the King that I was having an affair with Udu! I have never..." She stopped, when the Captain held his hand up, interrupting her.

"Spare me your explanations." Now they detected a trace of anger in the Captain's voice. "How did you learn of that?" He fixed the women with a penetrating stare.

Aiwendis looked at Viv, but saw that the little one was not forthcoming with more information. She sighed and continued. "Apparently Lilly bragged about it to our Vivvie herself. Isn't it so, Viv?"

Viv said reluctantly "She asked me to keep it secret. I wouldn't have told you, if it weren't so important. And I think Lilly is in danger now. She got a letter, a love letter, from the King, or so she said. He invited her to his palace for a love tryst. It just doesn't fit somehow. He was never taken with her, and it is unheard of for a king to act in such a way. The letter must be fake".

"Have you seen the letter?" asked the Morgul Lord evenly.

"No, I haven't, but surely Lilly couldn't invent all that. Or could she? But why?" Viv shook her head and looked up at the Captain with troubled eyes. The silver eyes that looked back at her were unreadable. Viv added "She left me at Gor's door, sent Buzukkumarz downtown and went to meet with the King."

"Where?"

"She went to his palace, apparently" sighed Viv. "It looks like a trap. What if the King divined her identity?"

The Morgul Lord remained silent for some time. When he spoke, his cold voice was utterly devoid of emotion. "It is not a trap. I know where she is. Don't worry about Lilaenwen anymore".

Bewildered, Aiwendis and Viniglaen stared into the Captain's face. Aiwendis was the first to recover. She dropped her hand from Viv's shoulders and bowed. "As you command, My Lord".

Composed now, Viv imitated the bow. She turned to leave, when the Captain stopped her. "It is nor all, little one, that troubles you. Give me an account of your mission with the mortal knight Raendil".

[Udukhaturz]

By the time Sapthan had reached his quarters, the pain in his hand was almost gone, but his mind had been left in a quandary.

He had fallen, he remembered that, but he could not remember tripping. He knew he never drank any wine when he was working in the library, so nothing like that could be the cause. He had felt perfectly well that day when he had begun his duties there, and he was of a strong constitution, little given to sicknesses.

He knew his right hand had been injured, and that it must have been because of the fall. But what could have caused those strange angry marks on his hand? The floor was smooth. There was nothing to account for such a nasty set of marks that looked like.... like what? Punctures! The idea was absurd. What could account for that?

He walked to his bookcase and took out a large volume, and after leafing through it, he found the section for which he was looking, “Poisoned Wounds.� He discounted serpents, scorpions, or any other creature as being the cause. There could be no beasts in the library such as that, not even a cat, so it must have been a... a... man! Someone had tried to kill him! Why? Who? Had some thief come to the library with the intention of stealing one of the rare books, and being found out, had overpowered him? It could not have been some petty thief... who could inflict such wounds? Was some mad man lurking about in the library?

He tossed a log into the weak fire that had almost burnt itself out and stirred up a nice blaze with the poker. He fetched a goblet of wine and sat down on the sofa in front of the fire. He should tell the chancellor about this, but what was there to tell him? The Chancellor’s daughter, the Lady Aiwendis, had seen him sprawled upon the floor unconscious. The Chancellor did not like to be disturbed, and even if Sapthan told him, no doubt the Chancellor would discount the whole matter. The Chancellor would say that Sapthan was imagining things and that his wound had merely been the result of the fall. Sapthan’s whole position at the library might be jeopardized if there were any thoughts that he was not stable.

He would hold his peace, but he would be very watchful and very suspicious. His assailant might come back.

[Lotesse]

She turned to leave, when the Captain stopped her. "It is nor all, little one, that troubles you. Give me an account of your mission with the mortal knight Raendil".

"We have fallen in love with one another, my Captain, and I have given him my virginity, and our hearts beat as one," answered Vivvie, without hesitation, and without fear.

"Viniglaen, you have no heart, you are a Black Rider, a Nazgul, and this man is only human. What lasting pleasure can you hope to gain from such a mortal being? Do not allow your emotions and personal needs to interfere with your work, Viniglaen."

"On the contrary, my Captain. If anything at all, our deep emotional connection has allowed greater ease and ability to progress with this mission," countered Viv. " I am honest with you, my Captain, with how I have allowed my heart and emotions to be affected by this Kingsman, and with all due respect, but you are wrong, my Lord. I DO have a heart, and it beats true and steady for those whom I come to love, and also for those toward whom I am forever loyal."

The Morgul Lord stood silently for a moment. Perhaps he was pleased with her reply to him, perhaps he was impressed with the courage she showed in respectfully asserting her position, perhaps nothing at all was going through his steel mind. At any rate, he seemed satisfied with her little speech for the time being, and dismissed her.

"I shall let you go, Viniglaen," he said, holding the door open for her, yet still blocking her way, and giving her a very serious look. "However, bear in mind what I have told you, and do not stray from your mission. Report back to me upon your progress two days from this hour. There must be viable progress, young one. Now go," he said, and let her leave the Observatory.

She inclined her head toward her Captain in a gesture of departure, then noiselessly and speedily left, swirling down the staircase in one uninterrupted motion, seeming like a black shadow-ghost, to any eye that could have caught her movement.

[Udukhaturz]

Wednesday, 6:30 PM
Red Salon, Triangular House

“Right this way, my lords,� Ulfang said as he held the door open for Khamul and Tolvadok. “The master is awaiting you.�

The dark Easterling followed the Nazgul into the room, and after closing the door behind him, he took a position beside the door.

“My lords,� Udu said, rising to his feet at the table, “greetings.The sultry dark-haired woman who stood by his side started to kneel. “No, Tatyana, we are in the West! The Eastern customs are not kept here. Remember to curtsy.� She looked at him uncertainly and dropped a curtsy to the two visitors.

“Tatyana, I want you to meet Lords Galadannun and Tolvadok.�

“I am very happy to meet you both,� she said pleasantly.

“This is Tatyana... a wife.�

The two Nazgul nodded to her.

Khamul and Tolvadok looked around the room, suspiciously, Udu thought. “You can speak around her,� Udu said.

“A woman?� Khamul scoffed. “Send her away!�

Tolvadok looked uncomfortable.

“She can be trusted, and much depends upon her aid,� Udu defended.

Khamul considered what Udu had said and reluctantly agreed. “Woman, you will be quiet and repeat nothing that is said here tonight!�

“Yes, yes, Master,� she said nervously as she retreated to the wine cabinet.

“Please be seated,� Udu said, “and Tatyana, bring us brandy.�

After the three Nazgul were seated at the table, Tatyana fetched them all a goblet of brandy and then sat down beside Maethor.

“I was a bit surprised to see Tolvadok here, since he was not part of our original planning,� Udu smiled as he reached for his goblet of wine.

“The Captain said I should go and help the two of you if necessary,� Tolvadok explained, “but I would like to avoid any unpleasantries if possible.

“There are always unpleasantries in this business,� Khamul said, his eyes taking on a slight gleam.

“It is well to know that our activities meet the Captain’s approval.� Udu smiled as he swirled the wine around in his mouth. “I rather think that the evening could prove quite pleasant indeed. It will be an opportunity to see that Lilaenwen receives a proper lesson.�

“What are you going to do to her?� asked Tolvadok.

“I am going to rely upon Khamul’s expertise here, that is, as soon as the lady is snugly ensconced in the ‘guest chamber.’ I doubt that Lilaenwen will enjoy her stay too much, though. Instead of a soft feather mattress, she can sleep on a reed mat,� he chuckled.

“Are you sure the cell is strong enough to hold her?� Khamul asked dubiously.

“Only a balrog could ever hope to escape,� he said proudly. “But with the additional powerful spells from the two of you, the cell can be made even stronger, if that is possible.�

Tolvadok looked uncertain. “The lady has a reputation for having a very loud, high-pitched scream. How could we ever hide that?�

“That should be relatively simple, Lord Tolvadok. She will be given a drugged draught of wine by Tatyana. One should do it, and she will be sleeping like an innocent babe. Then one of my men will light a lamp in an upstairs window, signaling to us that the lady is slumbering peacefully. Then it is simply a matter of picking her up, carrying her to the dungeon, locking her inside and warding it with more spells. I hope she does scream; in fact I encourage it. Her screams will reverberate in her own mind... But I caution both of you... we cannot wait inside my hall, for she will sense our presence.�

“I have finished my brandy,� said Khamul. “I am taking charge here!�

Udu looked surprised. “But my lord, this plan is basically mine!�

“Silence! Let us withdraw to the darkness outside and get far enough where the clever little Lilaenwen cannot sense us.�

“As you will, my lord,� said Udu, somewhat crestfallen.

Udu kissed a frightened Tatyana as Khamul scowled and Tolvadok looked uncertain. Then the three Nazgul filed out of the house and into the night.

[Rían]

Wednesday night/Thursday morning,
Outside of Tharbad

The three elven riders rode quietly through the night at a gentle walk, accomodating Tyaron's injuries. Their bright eyes gleamed in the starlight, and their fair elven voices sometimes rose in song to hail the rising of a favorite star. But more often than not they were silent, reveling in the starlight and the open air, and the communion with their horses, and the warmth of old friendships that do not need spoken words. They rode abreast, with RÃ*an in the middle and her sometimes over-protective brother and friend on either side of her.

As the sun started to rise, Alagos turned to his sister. "Come now, RÃ*an - tell us more about your travels, and of the things that happened in those long years that we were apart. I feel that I don't know a big part of who you are yet, and I don't like that feeling!"

As they rode on through the soft dawn light, RÃ*an revisited the years since the Fall of Gondolin, picking and choosing stories, describing people she had met, places she had been, and the things that had shaped who she was now. The men listened quietly, with only an occasional question breaking her narrative as they sought to catch up with the soul inside the body that they had been reunited with only a few days ago. Finding a person's body is one thing; discovering their soul is quite another. But love finds a way, and there was a lot of love between the three of them.

As the day drew on, RÃ*an finally stopped. "I think I've talked enough for now," she said. "I'd like to hear some of your stories, too, and I think Tyaron has had enough riding for now." Alagos agreed; he had been keeping an eye on his friend, and noticed the clenched jaw and careful breathing that were the signs of pain. "Good idea - I was just going to suggest that, and this looks like a great place to stop," he observed.

They set up Tyaron with his back against a warm rock and many threats to stay still while they got some food prepared. They ate in companionable silence, enjoying the sounds of the world around them. After a brief rest, Alagos proposed a swim in the slow-flowing river alongside their bivouac.

"You too, Tyaron - I think the flowing water will do those bites some good," said Alagos, as he and his sister stripped down to their elven skivvies. Tyaron assented and stripped down, too. Alagos started to examine the healing wounds, but Tyaron laughed and stopped him. "You're such an old clucking hen of a woman, Alagos! I'm perfectly fine! Now go throw your sister in - I think I can manage to get to the river on my own steam."

"You ingrate, I should have just let you die, for all the thanks I get!" shot back Alagos. RÃ*an took off running with her brother in hot pursuit, as Tyaron followed more slowly, the smile lingering on his face.

The three of them stayed in the cool water for a long time, Alagos and RÃ*an laughing, splashing and dunking each other, and Tyaron finding a spot where he could lean on a rock and let the water flow gently past his wounds, cooling off the hot, angry bites.

[Lady Marion Magdalena]

Thursday morning, still on the walls, still waiting...

Thinking about waiting had led to remembering. Mahtaliel started near the beginning, and remembered her father.

The last time Mahta had spoken to Atar was just before the Third Battle, the one everyone else called 'Glorious'.

He had been telling her about his grandfather, the great smith, Mahtan, whom she would never meet. He hadn't wanted Atar to leave, and hadn't been able to stop him.

'Did he know it was so dangerous?' She had asked.

Atar had shaken his head, looked distant into the forge fire, 'Maybe.' He had said.

Later she had asked her oldest cousin, after losing to him while practicing the sword, again. (It got tiresome, losing all the time, but there was no one better able to use the sword left-handed, and he assured her she was getting better, even if it didn't feel like it.) He had said, 'Perhaps.'

'That isn't an answer,' she had told him.

'It isn't supposed to be,' he had said, 'Work on your guard now. I want to see it improved when we return.'

'Where are you going?'

'To battle.'

Amme hadn't wanted Atar to fight, said there were plenty of soldiers, never enough smiths, why put himself and his skill in danger? She hadn't been able to stop him.

Later, after the body was burnt, because we believed cremation to be more dignified, they said he had died in the 'Glorious' Battle. Except for Maedhros, who always remembered to call it the Third Battle only, at least when she and Amme could hear.

That was when she had become Mahtaliel. Amme had called her by the other name and Mahtaliel had corrected her.
'Perhaps you'll have more luck than he or I did.' Was all Amme had said. Amme had understood, she hadn't wanted Atar to leave either. But she followed him both times.

She told Maedhros her new name while they watched the pyre turn to ashes.

He had given her a surname to go with it. She was living up to that name now.

[CrazySquirrel]

University, 6.30-7 PM Wednesday.

After parting ways with Viv and Buz, Lilly stood silent and unmoving in the doorway of the university palace, expanding her senses outwards, feeling for danger, especially for signs of the other nazgul. Least of all she wanted to run into Tolvadok, or Buz, for that matter, on her way to the triangular house. She felt the presence of Viv and Gor upstairs in the palace, she sensed the strong aura of the Morgul Lord to the south, somewhere high above the ground. She hasn't found a trace of Tol, Udu or Khamul.

Lilly laughed softly and concentrated on Buz. She sensed him turn right beyond the corner of the palace and make his way across the University grounds to the South-West gate. When he was firmly out of reach, Lilly slipped quietly out of the deep shadow of the doorway and glided through Gor's garden to the East exit of the palace grounds, away from Buz and the Captain. At Bar Amrun she stopped to think again. Walking outside along the University walls would bring her to Augon Vin, and the Orrodel mansion, and there she was bound to meet the angry Tolvadok.

So, turning sharply North, Lilly slipped like a shadow past the groundkeeper's cottage and followed a small path between the lower palace wall and the higher outer wall of the fortress. Soon she saw the gardener's hut with spades and other tools arranged neatly outside, then the low, mossy Commerce building, the forge, the little house where the accursed Elf professor lived and, finally, there was the North Gate looming before her.

Lilly came to know the layout of the University quite well, when, the day before, she spent three hours looking for the sleeping King in all the corners and recesses of the campus. Lilly smirked contentedly: her efforts came to fruition so very soon. No mortal had ever looked at her, much less touched her, without ardent desire kindled in him. The king proved to be no tougher than the others!

Lilly's heart sang. In less than an hour Val would be hers. Of course, at this point he didn't think of marriage, but she would make him reconsider. Oh, that she would! Some tears, some sobs, .. "What have you done?"... "I never thought you would go so far!"... talk about honour, suicide... and there he would be, bound forever to her, crown, country and all. Lilly was confident in her powers, she was an expert in such things, the best one the Dark Lord ever had.

Concealed in the shadow of the Gate, Lilly checked the area in front of her. No one. Even the Captain's aura had grown faint from distance. Tolvadok was probably looking for her around Orrodel. She had outsmarted him! Laughing happily, Lilly dashed across the Augon Galen towards the triangular house. There were lights in its many windows, and shadows moved behind the curtains. But all she sensed were only a few mortals, no danger to her. Stopping in front of the door, Lilly smoothed her hair, messed up by the wind, bit her rosy lips to make them even redder, and knocked.

[Udukhaturz]

Lilaenwen’s knock on the front door of the triangular house on Menetar Street was answered by a smiling tawny-skinned man. Lilly gave him one of her famous radiant smiles. “I am Varno the butler,� Ulfang said, lying about his name, “and I am greatly pleased to meet you. Come in out of the chill. Here, let me take your cloak,� he said as he slipped the garment off her shoulders. “Right this way,� he said as he ushered her to the Red Salon. Lilly headed right for the sofa in front of the fireplace.

“What an efficient servant he is,� she thought with admiration.

“I am sorry,� the butler said, “but there is no fire. A problem has developed with the damper, and until that is repaired, the smoke is so intense that a fire cannot be built. There is a thick fur on the sofa, though, that should keep you quite warm.�

Lilly was impressed with the stately opulence of the room. “I never knew Valandil to have such superb taste,� she was surprised. “I would not have suspected he went in for such hedonistic style. I wonder where the paintings are? He must have them around someplace... perhaps in the master bedroom,� she thought deliciously. All the paintings in the salon, though, were of hunting scenes or landscapes. Then she reflected, “Of course, how silly of me! The letter he sent me said that this is the house of one of his friends who loaned the use of it to him for the evening. Perhaps I should meet the owner...�

“A drink, my lady, while you wait for the king?� Varno asked, looking to Tatyana, who stood waiting near the wind cabinet.

“Yes, please,� Lilaenwen replied, pulling the thick, rich fur about her lap.

“Ah, pardon my oversight. This is Tatyana, the housekeeper.�

“I am very pleased to meet you,� the dark-eyed woman said in an accented voice as she prepared the wine.

“Very unfortunate story,� he said, busying about, trying to distract Lilaenwen as he fluffed up a cushion behind her back.

“What is an unfortunate story?� Lilaenwen asked.

“Tatyana,� he said woefully. “She is from the East, dreadful place! All her family was killed in a raid, and she fled for her life to the West. The king, generous and kind soul that he is, heard of her plight and saw to it that she had work and employment with his friend and his wife.�

Soon Tatyana had readied the drugged draught and returned to Lilaenwen, extending her the tray with the goblet. “I hope it is to the lady’s taste,� she smiled.

[Earniel]

Wednesday
University grounds

The was a hint of sea in the air that gladdened Eärniel’s heart, but at the same time there was also an undertone in it that unsettled her and that she couldn’t quite place. It was strange to have such a steady wind from the coast at this time, But Eärniel gave it little thought. Smelling the sea again was enough to keep her happy instead of asking questions, even from realising that the wind had never smelt so much of the sea before. With some sympathy she thought of Faénn and the other gulls and how they would have a tough time getting back to sea smoothly.

But wait, what was that sound? It sounded like a frog, and yet not. Or rather, Eärniel thought, it sounded like someone mimicking a frog, for frogs effectively croaked and never just said: “Croak.� That was usually an easy way to distinguish between the two. The noise of splashing water accompanied the croaking. Curious.

Eärniel risked a careful peek around the corner and was treated to an unusual sight: Jas Fernik was sitting in the fountain, up to his neck under water, puffing his cheeks while making croaking noises.

Eärniel stared.

Jas croaked.

Well, that explains where the university of Tharbad got that party-loving reputation, Eärniel thought. They never quite describe it like this in their brochure. RÃ*an will so not believe me when I tell her this.

“Isn’t the water a little cold for eh… bathing this time of the year, sir?� was all Eärniel could think of to say as she cautiously approached the fountain. Jas stopped croaking and turned his head towards her. He briefly tried to come to terms that his eyes strangely were at the front of his head instead -like on any good frog- at both sides of it. It resulted in a few shifty and cross-eyed looks before he finally gave up and hid under water, below the basin border so he couldn’t see the Elf anymore. Pink bipedal creatures were usually bad news for frogs anyway.

Eärniel stopped besides the fountain basin and looked in, her arm leaning on the stone. “Not that I don’t admire your sense for authenticity, sir,� she said, somewhat amused, “but I suppose I might inform you of the fact that, while frogs can approximately hold their breath for 9 minutes, humans normally do not.�

Jas’ face was indeed turning slightly red underwater. But since the threat hadn’t gone yet, Jas stayed firmly under water, shooting frightened looks up to the Elf above him.

Eärniel pinched the bridge of her nose in exasperation. “Oh, Uinen’s veils,� she sighed, “why do I always have to come across the nut jobs?�

Clearly this was somebody’s idea of a joke, surprisingly though, it did not appear to be one of Jas’s. There was a vague sort of look in his eyes that Eärniel reckoned was something else then the usual drunken fit. Snapping him out of it, on the other hand, might not be easy.

She counted the seconds.

Within the minute Jas resurfaced with much splashing and gasping. Eärniel’s hand shot out and hit him firmly on the back of his head. For a moment Jas’s eyes went really cross-eyed and then merely looked confused.

“Nibbit?� Eärniel suggested as a test.

“Eh, what?� Jas asked, going from mere confusion to complete bewilderment when he realised he was sitting fully clothed in a fountain. Furthermore, the water was kind of nippy and his head hurt somewhat, but not from drinking too much. Yet the strangest things was that he couldn’t quite say where this sudden dislike for herons had come from.

“Ah, that sounds more like it,� the Elf replied. "And here I thought I had seen everything. But a professor pretending to be a frog is definitely unusual by anyone's account."

[CrazySquirrel]

The triangular house, 7.30-9 PM, Wednesday

Lilly accepted the proffered goblet, downed it in one gulp and smiled appreciatively.

"Wonderful wine! Prepare me another goblet, will you?"

The Khandian maid stood somewhat bewildered, looking back at her, as if she were waiting for something to happen.

"Those barbarians!" muttered Lilly. She lowered her lips to the girl's delicate ear and yelled in the Khandian tongue "More wine, I said!!!"

The dark beauty jumped and hurried to obey. Lilly nodded proudly. She had picked a lot of languages during her long existence, and the Khandian Speech was one of the main in the East. Khand was a wondrous place... and its art! Oh, its art!

Lilly surveyed again the paintings on the walls. They were certainly better than the dull Elven and Numenorean classic paintings where immaculately dressed ladies and gentlemen stood forever frozen in noble poses. But there should be more...much more...

She turned to the approaching maid, took another goblet and sipped from it. The wine was strong, flavored with some pleasing herbal essences.

"What do you add to the wine?" asked Lilaenwen. The maid's tawny face suddenly turned white. Lilly frowned. The fool failed to understand her again, though she was sure she spoke Khandian this time. Perhaps it was her bad pronunciation...

Stepping around the immobile maid, and pushing aside Varno, who happened to block her way, she reached the serving table. There was a small crystal vial with an incomprehensible label standing by the big chalice of warmed wine. Lilly uncorked the vial and sniffed the rich herbal scent. Delicious! She poured the contents into her glass and added some more wine.

"Now, show me the pictures! The paintings, I mean, the REAL Khandian paintings! Where do you keep them?" Both the maid and the butler, Varno, looked shaken. "They must be in the master bedroom. Lead me there!"

The frightened maid managed to stutter: "The master, he has not allowed you to go there...I mean, the King, he is not yet.."

Lilly gave her one of her famous withering looks and proceeded to the door in search of the bedroom. "The King is late! He made me wait for an hour already! I want to see the bedroom!" she hissed over her shoulder as the khandian beauty and Varno followed forlornly the readhead intruder into the bedroom.

The paintings were there... in all their glory. Giggling happily, and licking her lips, Lilly made a tour of the chamber admiring the details and commenting on them in her chiming silver voice.

Varno and Tatyana looked at her silently, now resigned and prepared for all the eventualities. Two hours have gone by; the goblet and the vial were empty, and the enigmatic readhead was still awake.

At last, just before nine, finally tired, Lilly made herself comfortable in the middle of the large four-poster bed, covered with rich furs. She stretched there like a big lazy cat, yawned and asked drowsily "Ah... your master... What is his name? Where is he?"

She didn't hear the answer, as her head dropped onto the coverlet and she was asleep.



***

Little did Lilly know, that at this very moment, the master of the house, Udukhaturz the Seventh, stood outside freezing with his comrades in the blowing gale. The corner between two houses where they were concealed provided little shelter, and, after an hour of waiting, Udu's and Khamul's teeth started to chatter audibly.

Tolvadok the Northerner, more resistant to cold, stood in the middle of the street waiting impatiently for the signal lamp to be lighted. The tension between the three was growing, and almost reached the breaking point when a cheerful feminine voice cried:

"Girithron, what a surprise! I am so glad to see you again! But what are you doing here in this wind?"

"Oh, Yerri," Tolvadok sounded at a loss. To remain undetected, Udu and Khamul retreated further into the shadows

A small figure ran to Tolvadok, hugged him and grabbed his hands.

"My poor friend, your hands are frozen! Come with me to the Herring! I shall find you something hot to eat and a cup of warm wine!"

[Rían]

Thursday, somewhere in the
countryside outside of Tharbad


"I give up! I give up!" laughed RÃ*an, gasping for breath. "Everything you said is true - you are the most wonderful brother in the whole entire world, and every time we've disagreed, you have been right and I've been wrong!" she said in a mock-submissive tone, showing the fingers crossed behind her back to Tyaron. "Now stop dunking me!"

"Alright, alright," said Alagos in a superior tone. "I'm only doing this for your own good, you know," he said lazily, leaning back on a rock and letting the river float his legs. "It's good for you to know the truth!"

Tyaron, shooting up hand-fountains in the river water, groaned and rolled his eyes. Alagos and RÃ*an swam over to him, and a fierce hand-fountain competition followed, with RÃ*an ending up the clear winner. "See, brute force isn't everything," she said, sticking out her tongue at them. "Intelligence, style and ingenuity count, too!"

"Why did you win, then?" goaded her brother, and went back to basking on his rock, happily watching the water flow thorough his toes. He felt inexplicably lighthearted and carefree - he still couldn't believe his success at getting his unpredictable sister and wounded friend out of town so quickly. This was definitely the right thing to do.

"Tyaron, you still have blood in your hair," said RÃ*an, examining his wet hair. "Why don't you undo it and wash it all out, then Alagos or I can braid it back up for you again."

"OK," said Tyaron, and started unbraiding the keep-my-hair-out-of-my-face plaits at the side of his head.

"Oh, pleeeeeaaase let me braid your hair, Tyaron, I just looooove to braid hair!" came a falsetto voice from the basking figure on the rock. RÃ*an schlooped up a handful of river mud and tossed it Alagos's general direction.

"Nah, you take too long! I'll have RÃ*an do it!" teased Tyaron, and disappeared under the water, rinsing the remaining blood out of his hair.

He came up and bent his dark head towards RÃ*an, standing a little closer to her than perhaps was strictly necessary. "Did I get it all?" he asked.

"Not quite," she answered. "Get your hair back in the water, and I'll get it the rest out."

Tyaron obeyed, and she bent over him, her fingers searching through his hair, removing all traces of the blood.

A few moments later, the three elves were lying on the riverbank in the sun-warmed grass, their dark hair strewn out behind them, drying in the sun. Alagos was happily making patterns against the sky with his long fingers, framing the ever-changing cloud shapes as they moved lazily across the sky. He couldn't remember the last time he had been this light-hearted. RÃ*an was trying to decide how much she could get away with when braiding Tyaron's hair - maybe he'd even fall asleep, and she could get in one of her more intricate patterns. Tyaron was storing up memories of RÃ*an and Alagos laughing and playing in the river, for he was planning on leaving them very soon.

[Serenoli]

"And here I thought I had seen everything. But a professor pretending to be a frog is definitely unusual by anyone's account."

He focused his eyes on the Elf maid before him. Hmmm, she was pretty. And smiling, and friendly-looking. Suddenly, Jas was infused with the spirit of friendliness that assails drunken men at midnight, and makes them wish to tell the closest secrets of their lives to anyone, stranger or friend, as long as the person is on the same planet, and within reasonably close hearing range.

"Unusual, yes. But, surely not as unusual as someone who was actually turned into a frog?" He mistook the bemused look on her face as disbelief, and went on, "But, its true! I was turned into a frog, by this nasty man, who kept popping up all over the place, and calling me 'Professor'! Of all silly things!" He shuddered at the memory, and then struggled out of the fountain, shaking and shivering all over. Drippping with water, and as Eärniel supposed, absolutely drunk, Jas made the funniest spectacle, and she shook with suppressed laughter. She tried to memorise every detail; it would make a great story later.

"But, um, Professor... you are a Professor!" she protested.

"Nonsense! I have never professed anything in my life! Do be sensible! And, now, if you're agreeable, I'm starving, and would like some breakfast. I have the most amazing story to tell, and you probably won't believe me..." For a few moments, this possible obstacle worried him, and then his face cleared, and he declared cheerily, "Although, since you're only my imagination, maybe I can imagine you'll believe it, and then I can imagine you thinking up the solution to how I can wake up, and then everything will be fine! Right, lets go, then!"

He began toddling off, while Eärniel stared at him, bewilderment, and an irrepressible desire to laugh, being the chief emotions battling within her.

"Go? But where?"

He didn't reply, but went on for a few moments only, and then, with an embarrassed look on his face, he came back.

"Actually, thats a very moot point, where are we going?- because, I don't really know... or remember the way. Maybe... how about you lead the way?"

[Rían]

Thursday, somewhere in the
countryside outside of Tharbad

RÃ*an sat up and stretched. "I think I fell asleep," she said in a surprised but pleased voice. "And I didn't have any bad dreams this time, either!"

"I'm glad to hear that!" said Alagos, as the men sat up and stretched, too.

"OK, now you two stay right there - I'll be right back with my combs, and Alagos, you can tell your story now - I want to hear everything, and Tyaron needs something to keep him awake! - or at least you can get a good start on telling me everything! - you probably can't do it all today," RÃ*an chatted away while rummaging through the bags and getting her combs, and finding some of Tyaron's hair insignias in his bags (since it had been a high feast day when Gondolin fell, the men had been wearing all of their insignias, so the survivors still had these mementos of their beloved city).

She settled down next to Tyaron, who was sitting cross-legged, gazing at the river, and started combing his hair. Alagos sat up tall, also cross-legged, and started to relate his and Tyaron's adventures.

RÃ*an had never been this close to Tyaron in his swimming skivvies, at least since she had started seeing him as a man (as a child, he had often taken her swimming - she loved to be thrown into the water). "I see what the women were saying now!" she thought to herself, as she surreptitiously admired him. Tyaron, for his part, was completely relaxed, and was allowing himself to thoroughly enjoy RÃ*an's touch on his skin - her hands in his hair, her dark, silky hair on his bare arms and back as she leaned over him and started the braiding. All thoughts of his not being worthy to ever touch her again were gone - he was going to thoroughly enjoy these last few days together with her, and then take his leave - she need never know how he had kissed another woman - a stranger, even - while he was bound by his word to be courting her. He would leave them, and she would keep her high opinion of him, never knowing what he had done. It was so important to him that she think well of him.

He closed his eyes, enjoying the feel of her silky hair brushing across his bare skin. Alagos continued with the story. Alagos spoke well - the pictures rose in Tyaron's mind, and in RÃ*an's, too, judging by her reactions. Tyaron fell into a semi-trance as he listened, then came to with a jerk.

"... and the orcs were coming in so thick and fast that Tyaron never even had a chance to clear them off his sword before the next one was on him - there he was, swinging his sword in the air with two orcs impaled on it, going after a third ..."

Tyaron opened his eyes and looked over at Alagos, who was staring at him with a wicked grin on his face. "Just seeing if you were paying attention, brother!" he said. "It looks like my storytelling was putting you to sleep!"

"I don't know what you've been drinking, besides river-water, but whatever it is, you've had enough!" said RÃ*an with a smile. "Now, please, continue with the real story! And don't make me laugh again, or I'll mess up his hair and have to start over! You wouldn't want that, now, would you?" she teased with a laugh, leaning over Tyaron's shoulders to look directly into his face.

"On this day, I don't think I'd mind even that!" he answered softly. "Maybe it IS the river-water, but I haven't felt this happy in a long time. You two are like family to me, and I love being around both of you!"

RÃ*an wasn't sure if she was pleased or not at being apparently demoted from lover-elect to family all of a sudden.

"Anyway," Alagos continued, "it was then that King Turgon told us that Tyaron reminded him so strongly of his beloved cousin, Aegnor: Aikanár, the Sharp-flame."

At that memory, Tyaron smiled, then remembered how Aegnor had passionately loved a human woman but did not marry her. "It looks like we will resemble each other in more ways than one," he mused, and then said out loud, "I'd like to go out the way he did - fighting..."

"I hope you don't, at least not for a long time," said RÃ*an softly, gently brushing his cheek with her fingers. Tyaron clenched his jaw and said nothing. Alagos, watching them, wondered anew what had happened on that trip of Tyaron's, and then resumed his story.

[Gordis]

Observatory, Wednesday night

When Viniglaen's light steps died on the stair below, Aiwendis stood irresolute whether to follow Viv, or to ask permission to stay on the roof with the Captain. The Morgul Lord, however, closed the turret door behind Viv and bolted it.

"Go to the Observatory, Gordie, you look chilled to the bones," he said not unkindly. "Pour us some wine, and wait for me there. I still have a spell to weave. Damn, the wind tries to whirl again."

Aiwendis nodded absently, and entered the Observatory. The old abandoned building was repaired and re-furnished three years ago, when the Chancellor came to Tharbad. Now it was cosy and comfortable, with a wide Khandian divan, strewn with multicoloured silk pillows, a low lacquered table, and a number of matching cabinets attached to the walls. Aiwendis personally took care that the cabinets were well stocked with a nice selection of wines, dried fruit and sweetmeats. Oftentimes, when the Chancellor worked on the star-charts or on weather-spells, he remained in the building for days and nights.

Opening a painted chest by the far wall, Aiwendis took out a fur blanket and wrapped it around herself. She felt cold indeed, but not from the chilly wind. It was the Captain's decision to abandon Lilly to her miserable fate that froze Aiwendis's heart and bones. Through the long years in the Dark Tower, she had become accustomed to look to the Captain for protection. She knew, the others did as well. Many of the nazgul had been cruelly punished before, but it was by the Master's own orders, not their Captain's. It was a comfort to know that the Captain had spoken for them, even if it had been to no avail. How could he be so cruel now?

She remembered the day when she saw him for the first time, her first day in the Dark Tower, over a thousand years ago. Weakened she was then and fading, her life force drained by the accursed Ring. When her weary legs brought her to Mordor, following her Ring's bidding, she could hardly stand unaided. Leering orcs surrounded her at the gates of Barad Dur, and she prepared for the final blow, welcoming the Death which was eluding her for so long. But the blow never came. Instead, the ugly monsters bowed, in awe of the shining Ring hanging on a chain on her chest. Becoming fearful and deferential, they led her to the Great Hall, to meet the Master.

The Great hall of Barad Dur was bigger than any she had seen before. Lined by shining obsidian columns and paved by precious mosaics, it stretched endlessly on and on, the domed ceiling lost in shadows high above. While she walked to the dark throne, her tiny human figure was reflected endlessly from one polished surface to another, making her loose all sense of reality.

Her mortal vision had become blurred and distorted by that time, so she was surprised to see the two figures waiting for her clearly. The golden figure was seated on the dark throne, and another, silver- and-black one, was standing by it. Both faces seemed familiar to her, but yet unlike.

The Lord on the throne looked like the golden haired Elf-healer, who had given her the Ring so many years ago. His beauty was there, but his kindness and humility were gone. The burning yellow eyes looking back at her were merciless and angry, the perfect mouth distorted by a cruel grin.

The sight of the other one made her heart stop, for his features were forever burnt in her heart. She thought she recognised him: his elven-fair face, the proud set of his shoulders. And tall he was, taller than any other man she had ever met, the King of Men, who had once been her betrothed.

"Telemmaitë..." She tried to utter his name, but no sound passed her parched lips.

There was no recognition in the cold silver eyes surrounded by dark shadows. This man was not the one she had loved! She noticed a gleaming silver crown set upon his dark locks, and the deadly paleness of his face. She stopped, gasping for breath.

"Aiwendis the Eight!" boomed the great voice from the throne. "Come and bow to thy Master".

She advanced on unsteady feet and bowed from her waist as she would to a King. But she soon learned that it was not the way of Mordor. An invisible force threw her down on her now bleeding knees and pressed her face to the stone floor.

"Long have we awaited thee," hissed the voice. "Why hast thou not given thy Ring to thy betrothed as I bid thee?"

She was too weak to answer. And what could she say? The Golden deceiver should have known better than to give her the Ring - once she put it on, she couldn't part with it. She lay on her face, listening to the conversation that decided her fate.

"Now, what shall I do with this worthless female, who came here instead of the chosen one? Of what use can she be to Me?" continued the poisonous voice. "I should throw her frail body to the vargs to feed upon, and let her shrivelled soul wander forever in shadows, homeless and lost! What sayest thou, My trusted Captain?"

"My Master, she came here unbidden, but she is not worse than the other one before her, Lilaenwen the half-breed. This one is of the royal blood and may prove useful. Send another ring to the King Telemmaitë, and he will accept it gladly, for great is his love for Moria silver and the trinkets of gold."

"There is a use for every slave." mused the Dark Lord. "I will do as thou sayest, Morgul the First, but there is now only one Ring left. Make sure thy great-grandson gets it.... Now take her away from My sight!"

And then a cold hand was extended to her, and she gripped it, and followed the silver King out of the hall and beyond. Since that day, she followed him forever...

[Earniel]

Wednesday
University grounds

“Lead the way? Me? Surely no man in his sane mind would follow a figment of his imagination? Why, I could lead you into the swamp for all you know.� Eärniel said with a smile.

Jas looked worried for a moment. “Oh yes. There’s that,� he said but then suddenly brightened up. “Ah, but there are Elves in the swamp, I’ve heard. Can’t be too bad.�

“I take it you haven’t heard everything about them, then� was the reply, followed by a short chuckle, which somehow worried Jas a little more.

“Oh well,� Eärniel continued, “your apartment can’t be far, in any case. We’re right next to the professors’ lodgings. I doubt you could have… eh… jumped far.�

“But I’ve told you, I’ve never been a professor in my life! It’s just not me. So there is no reason why I should have a professor’s apartment. No really, I don’t know where you get those highly improbable ideas from,� Jas protested.

Eärniel smiled, it was rather hard not to. “Just humour the imaginary figment for a while then.�

She had to admit she was intrigued. Jas certainly acted like he was drunk, but still being drunk after sitting in a cold bath for what would have been hours was rather unlikely. Eärniel didn’t know Jas Fernik apart from having seen him at the reception and having heard students tell stories about his lessons. Surely the professor of wine-tasting knew how to handle a drink, or two, or a dozen.

And she wanted to hear more about this ‘nasty man’ that kept popping up everywhere and turning people into frogs. Since she knew the frog-population in Nîn-In-Eilph hadn’t risen perceptively the last few weeks, she suspected it wasn’t quite like Jas had thought it was. Still, she intended to find out.

The door to the professors’ building was closed but unlocked. Eärniel and Jas went in.

“Does anything look familiar?� she asked.

Jas looked around, slightly confused. “In a way,� he said finally. “The higher-from-the-ground sort of way…�

“Well, that establishes you passed this way in your… other state. Now we need to find the right apartment.�

Finding Jas’ rooms wasn't that hard to find, they were the only ones with an unlocked door and a slightly disorganised content. Several empty bottles were a clear indication too.

[Udukhaturz]

Outside the triangular house, 8:45 - 9:00, Wednesday night

“Seven!� Khamul’s words in thought speech were irritated. “Your much touted sleeping draught does not seem to have worked. Where is the signal light!�

“The draught does not seem to be taking affect as quickly as I had thought,� Maethor replied. “Soon, soon...�

“Poor plans often go awry!�

“The plan was a good one, but perhaps Lilaenwen is stronger than I had surmised,� he replied.

“Then hope that it will be quickly! I do not intend to stand out here all night in this chill wind!�

“Give it a while longer,� the Seventh replied, looking up at the window across the street. “Look there!� he exclaimed. “The lamp has been lit!�

[Serenoli]

For a moment, Tolvadok stood in indecision. The signal had just been given, and the three cold Nazgul had just been entering Udu's house, when Yerri appeared, and forced Udu and Khamul to hide.

"My poor friend, your hands are frozen! Come with me to the Herring! I shall find you something hot to eat and a cup of warm wine!"

She was wrapped up against the wind, but the small round face that looked out from beneath her scarf was pink and smiling. Despite himself, and knowing the hidden two were watching, Tolvadok returned her smile. He wanted very much to go with her, and after the cold wait, the offer to go to the Herring was very tempting. But, then, he had his orders, and he couldn't very well abandon Lily.

The decision taken, he put his hands in hers, and smiling down at her, he replied, "Yerri, it is very kind of you, but I have to see a man who lives here," he indicated the triangular house, "about some business, and he has promised me dinner."

At once she pouted, in such a delightful way, that Tolvadok was hard-put not to laugh.

"Don't worry about me, and tomorrow when I can get off my duties, I'll come to the Red Herring, and we can see about the wine and food. Agreed?" This last he said almost in a whisper; he didn't intend Udu and Khamul to hear. Already he could hear Khamul's jeering laugh in his head... he knew how much Khamul would tease him about his 'little friend' later.

"Oh, all right. But you had better come." And with that, she reached up, and gave him a shy kiss on his cheek, and then, walked away. His face burning, Tolvadok turned back to the house, and found Khamul's face split in the widest and ugliest grin it had worn for years. Ignoring it as best as he could, he walked up to Udu's house, and went in, followed by the others.

[Telcontar_Dunedain]

Khamûl grinned.
"Who was that?" he jeered through thought speech.
"What now?" said Tol, turning to Udu and ignoring Khamûl.
"Now the fun begins," replied Udu, a smile spreading across his face. "I shall go and prepare the equipment. Lily should wake within in about ten minutes, this should give me time to prepare and have her on the equipment before she wakes."
"Ten minutes you say? So far your potion has not worked out as you may have wished. Tolvadok, you shall go and help Udu. I shall wait with Lily," said Khamûl with an air of authority.
"As you wish Lord Khamûl," said Tol, his face grimacing as he spoke those words.

----------------------------

Five minutes had passed with no sign of Lilaenwen moving and no noise from the downstairs. Khamûl turned away from the couch where Lily was lying.
"Whaaa. Valandil, where are you?" said a disoriented voice from behind Khamûl.
"Udu. He has failed again," muttered Khamûl, spinning around to face Lily.
"I think I must have fallen asleep," said Lily, rubbing her eyes. "Khamûl. What are you doing here?"

[Rían]

Thursday, in the countryside outside of Tharbad

RÃ*an tied off the last braid. "There - that's done!" she said, surveying her work with satisfaction. "Family pattern; swordsman pattern; gold thread for Fingon; teardrop for the Nirnaeth; double tree for King's Guard."

Alagos got up and came over. "Hmm, nice - but why did you put the archer's pattern in there, too?"

"Right - like I would actually believe you, in the mood you've been in!" grunted Tyaron.

Alagos smiled and turned back to his sister. "That's really a nice job there, RÃ*an. I know we men grouse a lot about it, but you really are very talented, and it is nice to see some of those mementos again in a world that has forgotten Gondolin and its glories."

RÃ*an and Tyaron stood up, and Tyaron took her face gently between his hands and kissed her on the forehead. "Thank you very much! Alagos is right - it is nice to remember." He took her in his arms for a quick hug, and was surprised to see that he was the one that broke the embrace instead of RÃ*an.

RÃ*an had been enjoying the nice contrast of soft skin over hard muscle, since they were both still in their swimming clothes. She had also been sensing and enjoying a difference in Tyaron, although she couldn't quite identify what it was yet. "Maybe I should really give this a chance," she thought, leaning into his chest the way she had leaned into Valandil's chest the night of the dance that seemed so long ago, although it was really only a few days ago - and then Tyaron broke the embrace, somewhat to her surprise. She felt rather piqued, and then doubly piqued because she was piqued.

"This has been one of the most enjoyable days of my life!" Tyaron repeated. "But now I must start engraving the dagger - I promised to try to finish it in a few days, in time for his son's coming-of-age birthday." He went over to his bags and took out the dagger and his tools. "Why don't you continue with the stories, Alagos, and I'll work. I'll need to be quiet, myself, but I can listen. What do you think of these designs?" he added, handing his sketches to the man who had fought alongside him in the Nirnaeth.

Alagos examined them carefully, then nodded his head. "I think you've really captured it," he said quietly. "That will be a nice bit of work. I like the look you captured on Huor's face - I remember it well ... it seemed so odd at the time, but looking back, he knew; he looked ahead with the eyes of death, and saw what we didn't..."

RÃ*an looked at the drawings, and then handed them back to Tyaron. She said nothing; just looked into his eyes and nodded her head.

The three of them settled down comfortably and began - Alagos storytelling, RÃ*an listening, and Tyaron engraving the dagger with the design from his memories of the Battle of Unnumbered Tears.