Son of the Evening Star

[The Sasquatch of Fangorn]

"As long as you keep that wine away!" said Gil-Galad rubbing his head.

[Willow Oran]

Glorfindel fought the urge to smirk, and tell Gil-Galad that it was his own fault if he drank too much, and not to blame the innocent, and rather good, wine. Such an action would be most unbecoming...
Instead he stepped foreward, still staying close to Elrond, Gil-Galad was tricky at times, and gave an exaggerated bow, "Your," he did allow himself to flash a grin at Elrond, "humble servant will be certain to serve you no wine from now on, my lord."
Straightening, he stepped back, and with a distinct twinkle in his eye, decided to push the tolerance of his kinsmen one last push, "Only," he added, "the finest, stout ale, a treasured gift from our friends in Khazad-Dum, and a far fitter drink for such an illustrious majesty as yourself."

[Varnafindë]

Rameldir kept his mouth shut, and watched the two other elves with a visible grin of amusement. He drank very little himself, and mostly mixed his wine with water, so he usually didn't have problems of the kind Gil-galad was having now - and this just confirmed his belief that his own stance in the matter was a wise one.

He couldn't resist joining Glorfindel in his teasing, though. With a straight face he added, "A treasure indeed - what would we do without friends like those of Khazad-Dum? Their gifts are royal and priceless."

He didn't mention the fact that he had never tasted that ale himself.

[Willow Oran]

"We would have lost much," answered Glorfindel, suddenly serious, "Speaking of our naugrim allies... I hope you haven't forgotten that the new ambassador is due to arrive soon, Elrond. I have the drafts for the trade agreements ready for you to look over before then."

[Varnafindë]

Rameldir just nodded silently. As he had told the others earlier, he would have lost his life if it hadn't been for a Dwarf.

During the battle against Sauron outside of Moria, he had been cut off from the other archers. He had run out of arrows, and with only his dagger as defense, he hadn't expected to survive.

Until he realized that some of the Orcs were fleeing from a Dwarven battle-axe.
Someone in Durin's army, Borin by name, had seen his plight and had come to the rescue. He had managed to cut his way in to the Elf and to get them both out of the throng. Rameldir would never forget the debt he owed Borin and his descendants.

[Willow Oran]

"But business will have to wait till dawn," said Glorfindel, watching Rameldir slip into memory and finally waving a hand before the other elf's eyes,
"Rameldir, are you listening? You should know better than to attempt difficult conversations with Elrond straight upon a return. Do not argue, Elrond, you know you are impossible at times. Is he not, Gil-" Glorfindel stopped as he turned to find an empty space where Gil-Galad had been. He exchanged a puzzled look with Elrond, "He seems to have wandered off. How strange."
Elrond merely shrugged.
"Ah well," Glorfindel recovered from his momentary puzzlement and went on, "I think I will spend the rest of the night outside. The stars are very bright and the air is still warm. I will see you in the morning, my cousins."

[Midge]

In a wood not too far west of the Misty Mountains, Galadriel and her daughter, CelebrÃ*an, had awoken to the peacefulness of the forest. They breakfasted quickly and left their camping-place on horseback. They were searching for someone.

As they rode quietly and swiftly throughout the day, the horses kept getting more and more restless. Galadriel felt it too. She couldn't shake the feeling that something unpleasant was going to happen, and soon. However, she said nothing aloud and just let her daughter and their three-men escort think that the horses were becoming more and more fitful was the slightly worsening weather as the wind picked up, or claustrophobia as the trees became more tightly packed.

Finally, Galadriel knew that she could keep her misgivings quiet no longer without her daughter and men in danger. Leading the group, she halted her horse (though she had an escort, it was mostly to keep brigands away; anything powerful enough to truly threaten Galadriel would more than likely annihilate her escort, and therefore she rode in front of them to protect them) and her followers did likewise.

A twig cracked in the woods ahead of them. Galadriel, feeling her way into the woods, found only a dumb beast making its way through the forest. But the danger was there, close to the beast, but not exactly the beast itself.

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[Varnafindë]

Was that another Dwarven battle axe? Something was waving in front of Rameldir's eyes. A Dwarf's hand?

No, of course not - Rameldir suddenly snapped back to reality. The hand belonged to Glorfindel, not to any of the Dwarves he had known a millennium ago.

Glorfindel was saying something - about conversing with Elrond - yes, he was right. Elrond could be impossible at times.

Apparently, so could Gil-galad, when he had had too much to drink - something that Rameldir hadn't seen very often. But now the High King had just suddenly wandered off! Well, it was getting late anyway. Glorfindel took his leave, and Rameldir decided he might as well do the same.

[Midge]

Trusting her escort and her daughter's powers to at least watch over her, Galadriel tried hard to find what danger lay ahead. She knew that a lot of the problem with danger is not knowing what the danger truly is. Once you know what a danger is, you can begin to know how to fight it and how to protect yourself. She felt further ahead of them, keeping silent and bidding her group to do so as well.

She followed the beast with her mind. It was a beast of prey, not exactly hunting, but waiting. Waiting for what? Then she realized and what she found horrified her. She saw the man she sought, her husband, Celeborn, fighting a band of Orcs. She knew that this battle was not one which would go into history, nor would it mean much to anyone should her husband win. But there were ten Orcs and only one elf, and she could see that they'd somehow taken his bow from him. She found this odd, as she had never known him to be without his weapon before. Instead of watching a terrible scene unfold, she turned in her saddle without moving her horse and whispered to the others what she'd seen. She had her own powers which she was loth to use in such a small circumstance, but would if it came to that. CelebrÃ*an had been taught how to use a bow at a small age, for her mother had felt a shadow over her at her birth which made both Galadriel and Celeborn insist that she be trained nearly as well as one of their own warriors. The escorts were of course, well armed.

Now that Galadriel knew what the situation was, she ordered her men and daughter effortlessly. Each man and CelebrÃ*an took a direction, southeast or southwest, east or west. There they were stationed until Galadriel gave the word, or the Orcs became aggressive and began attacking Celeborn. Galadriel's horse quietly stood directly north of the place where Celeborn was surrounded by Orcs. Then they listened.

"You will not defeat me," Celeborn told the Orcs. "You cannot."

[Midge]

"You will not defeat me," Celeborn told the Orcs. "You cannot."

"HAH!" one of the Orcs burst out. "You are outnumbered and weaponless. How can we not win?" Celeborn stared at the Orc with such a ferocity that the Orc quailed and backed into the group again. The largest Orc admonished him. "Do not underestimate any Elven prisoners we may take. They can disappear with the wind, and hear with their hands. Their minds talk to each other and ... and... " He trailed off, a fearful look overtaking his face.

Galadriel knew the cause of that look. She had entered his mind, and though she found it revolting, she stayed, and she showed him a mind-picture which was meant to scare him. It showed Celeborn standing on his own again, jumping from where he was hunched on the ground. It showed him pulling a fearsome sword from a hidden sheath in his breeches. It was long, longer than Celeborn was tall, and with one strong sweep of the sword, he lopped off the heads of three Orcs. A follow-up thrust with that sword went entirely through another Orc and stabbed the Orc behind him. As the remaining five watched this happen, two smaller Orcs near the back of the group took off running, only to be shot with arrows which came flying from between the trees. Celeborn stared at the largest Orc and the two loyal Orcs standing behind him, saying, "You will not win." With that, the largest Orc saw his own loyal Orcs on either side of him killed with one fell swipe and then Celeborn shoved the long Orc-bane straight through the Orc all the way up to the hilt and drew it out by slicing upward, so that the Orc was effectively cut in half. He shook his head, though his face still held all the fear of that vision.

[Curufin]

It was late, but sleep would not come to the Lord of Imladris. He stood, still as a stone statue, looking over the valley that had been his peaceful home these many years. Things had not gone well, with Rameldir. There were too many things tied up in their relationship. Elrond worried that he expected him to be his father - a father that he had known and that Elrond could scarcely remember. He sighed. He had been to harsh with the man tonight, and he knew it. Deep inside he even regretted it. He owed him an apology.

Sighing, he straightened, and headed towards the chamber that Rameldir always made his own on his sojourns here. He knocked softly, soft enough that he would not wake him had he already turned in for the night.

[Midge]

"Lads, let's kill him now, before he does us any harm!" The large Orc licked his lips, clearly enjoying the thought of ridding the world of the Elf who'd put doubt in his mind. At that, Galadriel took his mind in hers and cried in a fey voice, "Stop! You will not touch him." As the Orcs looked around bewildered for the source of the voice, arrows from four directions around the group of Orcs came flying. Within two seconds, eight Orcs lay dead, one of them the largest. Of the two left, one was the Orc who had spoken out against him earlier. With the Orcs lying around him, Celeborn found new strength. He took an Orc-blade from his nearest fallen enemy and quickly took the two Orcs out with as much dexterity as he had in the Leader Orc's vision. When they were dead, he sank to his knees in weariness. Galadriel and her tiny entourage emerged into sight and Galadriel dismounted in one smooth motion. Her horse was caught by one of the men, but she didn't notice. She ran to Celeborn's side.

"Love, oh, my love! What has happened here?" She held his face close against her chest, giving him thoughts from her to soothe him, images of Valinor and their home under the trees, the quiet in the night which he loved so much and the noises of the night as well: the crickets and the leaves falling, the stars quivering in music which was reminiscent of the music which made the world, the music of the Ainur. She sat like that for a while, and he slept, his cares leaving him as he healed. Galadriel's escort and CelebrÃ*an made a quick camp for the night, for it was obvious that they weren't going to be moving Celeborn for at least a night and the group of trees which surrounded them gave surprisingly good shelter. A small fire was made, and Celeborn slept in Galadriel's arms. The men and the daughter also slept for a few hours; the excitement had exhausted them. But Galadriel stayed awake for the whole night.

[Varnafindë]

Late as it was, Rameldir still didn't feel ready to settle down to sleep right away. The conversation with Elrond had been less than a success - much less. He had made it clear that he didn't think he could take Elrond's place in Imladris, hadn't he? Or hadn't he made it clear enough after all?

And how much did the memories of Eärendil - or Elrond's lack of them - have to do with it all? There was something there that he was only beginning to understand, but he supposed he understood a little more after tonight than he had done earlier ...

At the end they had begun to talk about things that made them both uneasy, though. Strangely, that had eased the conversation. Those were things of the present, things that might be an actual danger, not just uneasy feelings from the past. And this darkness in the east - yes, it was wise of Elrond to seek Galadriel's advice.

Ramedlir sighed and decided to sit down with a book for a while before going to bed. There was a book he had recently found in the library and only looked at briefly. He would read a couple more pages now - it was a highly philosophical work, to give him much work for thoughts, so he only read it a little at a time.

It was about a converse that his great-grand-uncle Finrod had had with a mortal woman - a wise-woman. They were talking about what legends the mortals had about their past, and about the nature of evil - or rather of the nature of the relationship the mortals had had with the Evil One, the Enemy, Morgoth. The wise-woman didn't seem willing to give any details, just sweeping generalisations - unless she was about to do so in the next pages. He would see soon.

Before she had revealed any of those details, though, he was interrupted by a soft knock on his door. He went to open it.

Elrond was outside.