One Flesh, One Soul. Part I by FellFireFan  

In the vastness of silent space, a single brilliant star, entwined in darkness, danced through the celestial skies, its light shining brighter that all others. It broke into two separate pieces and fell to the earthly plain below. A single heart, beating for the first time, seperated until fates reunion.

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Angband

455 A.D

 Amidst the engulfing flames that devoured the fallen, the Noldorin prince lay motionless upon his back in a pool of his own blood. The stars, cast their bright light upon the valiant souls lost in the aftermath of the harrowing battle. The echoes of the orcs' terrifying war chant, Balrogs' thunderous roars overshadowed the haunting cries of dying elves in the distance. 

 Defeated, spent and completely exhausted, Aegnor calmly awaited his fate. A once mighty stock cut down, warm blood still seeped from his torn clothes, his body destroyed and riddled with holes. A weak cough spluttered from his throat and he turned his head and spat out blood upon the grass. He rasped softly. Only his breath... however faint... the only sign of life remaining. 

As the elf lay dying, a chilling calmness enveloped him, bereft of fear, void of anger and pain. He felt not but numb, empty, and silent. His weary eyes fixed upon the thousands of stars that now shined brighter than he had ever witnessed. His sole comfort in the world he was preparing himself to depart forever.The place he had called home.

  Small tears trickled down his sunken cheeks. He beheld in his eyes a figure dancing gracefully among the twinkling stars. Her face, as beautiful as he remembered it, gazed down upon him like a dream— frozen in a memory most beloved to him. Her form sparkled before him, drawing closer as the stars adorned the tresses of her flowing locks as black as the night without stars.

   He could think of nothing but her in these final moments of his life, how he had loved her... how he had failed her. Summoning the last reserves of strength, he could scarce muster a single quiet whisper.

"Andreth..."

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Maedhros' Pass

355 A.D

(One hundred years earlier)

Loud clanks of swords chinged against the black steel of orc artillery. The darkness of a moonless night was thick and oppressive and hung like a shroud of doom over the two colliding forces, each battling to gain the upper hand. Amidst the chaos, a towering figure emerged. Long wispy copper hair tied tightly behind in a single glossy braid, the Noldorin prince stood like a tower, unphased by any mighty force. 

  With every strike, Maedhros exuded grace and precision, effortlessly dispatching his enemies. Fearlessly, this remarkable elf issued a challenge to the hulking orc commander, a duel that would determine the fate of their encounter. The orc, snarling with a ferocity akin to a wild beast, revealed his black, wet gums and menacing yellow teeth.

   Maedhros could not be intimidated, stood resolute, unyielding to the intimidating display before him. He had seen horrors far more terrible than this, the horrible scar that that marred one side of his face bore witness of that. Yellow orbs met piercing grey as their swords collided in a symphony of violence. The orc sought to overpower Maedhros with sheer brute force, but the tall elf proved elusive, his movements a dance of both strength and beauty. Despite the handicap of fighting with only one hand, Maedhros showcased mastery over the sword and the orc commander grew tired of trying to catch him off guard.

    Desperate for an advantage, the orc used his brute force and over powered the agile elven lord, seizing the collunm of his long and muscular throat. The first born son of Feänor, his teeth clenched writhed and kicked, his feet lifting off the ground, but he couldn't break free from vice-like coils of the orcs dirty talons. Just as the red suns light appeared from beyond the horizon, hope began to fade as the battle seemed surely lost. The sound of a distant horn blew from the trees. Recognising the signature sound of an approaching calvary, the orcs abruptly ceased their attack and the commander's eyes darted toward the darkness of the forest's edge, wide and filled with terror. The commander made not a sound, frozen in that moment, he dropped Maedhros and backed away. His peircing gaze not leaving the trees, he knew his fate in that moment and who was coming to claim his life.... a furious demon upon horseback, the angel of death.... and there was no where to run!

   The haunting thunder of hooves soon followed then from the blackness, a line of horses with their armoured riders burst forth kicking up dirt and sticks as they flew toward them like a wall of death. A small army of elves and men, their faces tense with fury. They overtook Maedhros whose demonic laughter mingled with the rumbling of furious horse legs, hus mirth taunting the orcs as they flew in frantic retreat, their ranks completely shattered.

    Two distinguished elves that were leading the charge flanked the orcs as they ran, herding them like cattle ready for the slaughter. One leapt from his horse and landed upon the ground, weapon drawn. The orcs watched in trembling fear as he slowly removed his helmet and threw it towards the unholy horde. They recoiled like rats and scattered immediately as the elven helmet landed at their feet and rolled. A taunting challenge to any orc brave enough to be the first  to step forward. Long golden hair framed his beautiful elven face as the red dawn rose behind him. His pointed ears adorned in piercings of rings and snakes. His eyes glowing with an unholy light. The orcs dropped to their knees and begged the elf to show mercy. Many dropped their weapons and bowed, but deep down they all knew their cries would be invain. Like an unstoppable force, he tore through their ranks, leaving trails of black blood and piles of limbs and corpses in his wake.

Not a single strand of his radiant locks could impede his ferocious gaze, his eyes burned with a dragon's ire, two flaming beacons in the darkness.

Together, the golden brothers flanked the orcs, engaging in a brutal and bloody massacre. The odds swiftly turned in Maedhros' favour with the aid of his cousins, who sliced through the enemy ranks with unnatural precision, sparing none. Suddenly, the battle was over, and all drew to a silent calm. As the grim task of checking and counting the fallen bodies was underway, Maedhros approached Angrod, who was aiding the survivors.

  "Angrod! Cousin! I knew you would come!" Maedhros called out, his voice strong and deep. Clasping arms with his half cousin, Angrod smiled victoriously. 

  "It works in our favour that orcs are useful in some way, that they never learn from their mistakes!" Angrod smiled.

   A short distance away, Aegnor glided through the grim sea of bodies and severed orc limbs.  The carnage and brutality of the brothers work notable. His tall, muscular form cast a long shadow over the distorted faces of the orcs, frozen in terror. He counted his prizes like gruesome trophies.

"Lord Aegnor!" A sudden, deep voice called out. Aegnor turned around to see the mortal Boromir, son of Boron, the fourth cheiften of the house of Beör, striding toward him with a purposeful step, "I have never witnessed such a devastating onslaught! It came dangerously close to Ladros," Boromir remarked, his voice filled with concern. Aegnor paused for a moment before speaking solemnly.

   "The howls from Angband grow louder with each passing day, and the orcs grow stronger. I fear the princes have become complacent. I will consult with the king regarding these findings, perhaps the time has come to act." Aegnor replied calmly, his gaze drifting off into deep thought.  The low sun rise cast upon his elven visage showing off a glistening set of silver ear peircings that decorated the rim of his pointed ears.

   "Lord Aegnor, if I may be candid with you, my family and my people, we depend on these lands to survive. I fear... is Dorthonion still safe?"

   Aegnor looked at him with sincerity. His eyes, once a beacon of ire, now radiated a different kind of brilliance, calm, striking, and utterly beautiful. The elf flashed a reassuring smile and firmly placed a strong grip on Boromir's broad, metal shoulder, "Dorthonion is safe, Boromir, and it shall remain so as long as Angrod and I are here to defend it," he responded warmly.

Boromir's smile grew. Aegnor's attention was abruptly captured by movement within the fallen orcs. He quickly dismissed himself with a polite bow and strided toward approaching the crawling body of the fallen orc commander. Grasping its greasy black hair, he violently yanked the orc up onto its knees. The orc's desperate screeches fell on deaf ears as Aegnor swiftly drew his blade and slashed its throat. The screeching immediately ceased, and he slammed the limp orc's body to the ground with a resounding thud.

   "Boromir!" Aegnor cturning back to him, walking away. "My compliments on the new birth of your new son. May the Valar bless his footsteps!"

   "A son has already been born to me, my lord! I welcome now a new daughter into my fold!" Boromir called out, grinning proudly. Aegnor chuckled and bowed, opening his arms,

   "On your precious daughter, I pray that sun lights her smile and the stars kiss her feet," With that, he turned back on his heels and strutted away to join his brother.

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Dorthonion

(Six weeks later)

Seated in solitude, Aegnor found himself fully immersed in the blanket he was crafting, his hands deftly weaving intricate patterns. Although weeks had passed since the triumph at Maedhros Pass, the weight of Boromir's words lingered in his mind, refusing to fade away. In Valinor, this time would have marked the festival of gifts, a cherished tradition where Noldorin parents, particularly mothers, would painstakingly create special presents for their children. Aegnor treasured every precious moment he had to fashion an object of extraordinary beauty. Comfortably reclined upon plush cushions, he basked in the soft glow of the fireplace that accentuated his resplendent elven features. One long, sinewy leg crossed nonchalantly over the other, meticulously embroidering delicate flowers and graceful doves onto a blanket made of pale lavender and white fabric known for its exceptional softness. 

The addition of tiny, shimmering beads transformed the blanket into a masterpiece, destined to bring boundless joy to the fortunate young girl who would receive it. With nimble fingers, he skilfully wove the glistening silver thread through the intricate beading. His luscious golden mane cascaded down his front, partially veiling his face. He casually sipped wine from his goblet and slowly licked his lips, placing the goblet down beside him.

"King Fingolfin has called a meeting of our kin to discuss the condition developing in Angband." Angrod's deep and rich voice broke from the shadows, interrupting Aegnor's much relished peace. He plopped down beside him, drawing his parted knees up, "I fear Morgoth has him worried. Who can blame him. Only you and I know of the terrible rumbles growing louder from that wretched place. Perhaps we can persuade the other princes to take up arms and fight."

Aegnor, who hadn't bothered to lift his head to acknowledge his brothers words, continued his delicate work. His fingers shifting rhythmically between the threads. Angrod's eyes shifted to him then to the craft on his lap. Curious, he asked who the intended recipient of such a devine object was made for.

"For Lord Boromir and his wife, a gift to commemorate the arrival of their new precious burden," Aegnor finally replied. His velveteen elvish voice flowing like soothing warm honey, "although they focus only on the birth of a child and not the act of begetting them, which in itself is a novelty most curious,"

"Ahh...the festival of gifts! I had almost forgotten. Many of us have suffered great since we left the fair havens for this land. But not Aegnor... the defender of our traditions! The champion of the Noldorin weaving!" Angrod teased, his smirk widening.

"Childhood is a time of great happiness and liberty. Who would deny a child such joys in such bleak days. I am simply extending the courtesy. We are blessed in this regard," Aegnor replied evenly

"Courtesy you say?" Angrod laughed "dear little brother, you would quicker extend your arm to sever an orcs head cleanly yet somehow you find the liberty to make gifts for children you are never likely to see? You are growing softer as you age!"

Aegnor scoffed, his mouth bending into a crooked smirk, his bright eyes challenging Angrods, "And what of you, Angrod? Where is the gift you have crafted for your own beloved son, the same who now commands the kings royal guard and is taking up residence in Nortgothrond with our eldest brother Finrod!?" He leered.

"You know Orodreth detests my gifts! He proclaimed to my very face that if he were to be beset once more with an offering such as the one's I present to him again, he would cast himself into a frigid river and be rid of me for good!" Angrod retorted

"And who would judge?" Aegnor replied. "Seeing the gifts you conjure with your talentless hands, drowning in a river would be a mercy. I would wilfully volunteer to push the poor fool!" He added

Angrod chortled loudly. His melodious laughter bubbling into the air. Aegnor grinned widely, revealing a row of dazzling pearly teeth behind his captivating lips. The laughter stilled and Aegnor's smile slowly waned. The soft tip of his tongue glided between the velvety curves of his full, plump lips, slowly moistening their surface as his focus returned to his craft.

Switching to elvish Angrod eventually asked, ("why have you delayed marriage, Aegnor? It is not for lack of fine eligible elven maidens all sighing for your affection. Each one more beautiful than the finest jewels in Tirion.")

"Is beautiful in appearance and body all that matter, Angrod?," Aegnor smiled and shrugged. "It would please you to know that I am already betrothed and she rests proudly at my hip!" He patted the elven blade in its scabbard that draped around his hips. His proud smile infuriating Angrod.

"Do not mock me Aegnor!" Angrod grumbled, "It is long overdue that you found a proper and suitable wife! What of the princess's among the sindarin? Their father's have enquired after you since last we made stay in each realm,"

"What!?" Aegnor scoffed "Do you speak of the ones who bombard me with gift's and soft flattery only to pursue me relentlessly through the palace of the kings, until I am worn down and cornered like a wild boar with no way of escape!?"

Angrod cast him a withering look. "Forgive me Aegnor, but perhaps supreme beauty and gentle nature is the barest pickings that one must settle for with the likes of you!"

Aegnor, now insenced, stopped weaving, his gaze hardening as it fell upon Angrod.

"Wallowing in your self loathing won't aid you! Per chance, that is the reason you are so utterly miserable, Aegnor! It is unbecoming of you! Does it not vex you that I have long achieved what you have not? That my marriage to Eldalótë has given me what you desperately seek to hold?" Angrod retorted.

"What do you know of my desires!?" Aegnor scoffed, his jaw tensing, "you cast scorn upon every decision I have made! Each time I strive to act of my own, it is with the overbearing weight of your endless critisism in my ear!  You believe yourself lord and judge over my agency yet you cannot see beyond the bridge of your own nose! You know nothing about me!"

“oh, I know well! It is as clear to me as the stars above, and it lies heavy upon your very lap!” Angrod shouted, his finger directed at Aegnor's lap. Aegnor seized the blanket and cast it into the shadows.

“Begone, you treacherous cloth! Cease your torment on my brother with your sweet, guileless design!” he cried.

“There is no need for such displays, Aegnor!” Angrod grumbled, "my concern-"

“By Illuvatar! I draw a breath and you think the very heavens fall! You shall not command me, Angrod! I shall do or not do what pleases me!” Aegnor snapped

“Very well, Aegnor, you have won!” Angrod retorted, his gesture of defeat marked by an exasperated wave, "but take heed; your bitterness will be your undoing!”

“I am not bitter!” Aegnor snarled,

“Yes brother, you are!" Angrod yelled, "you did not even attend the wedding celebrations of Galadriel, our own beloved sister!”

“Shut up!” Aegnor roared, the force of his rage propelling him to his feet. He grabbed his goblet and pitcher brimming with wine. His coiled hair whipped around him as he spun. "I will not be chided as a wayward child! Not by any fool and most certainly not by you!"

Angrod stared up at him silently. His scowling eyes meeting his, "if you will excuse me..." Aegnor growled "I am going to drown my sorrows in this pitcher of wine and forget about your existence, until morn! Perhaps then, I might bring myself to hate you less!" With that, Aegnor stormed from the room, the echoes of his footsteps haunting the stone floor.

“Drink carefully, little brother!” Angrod called after his shrinking form, "lest you choke upon it with your principles still intact!"

Chapter End Notes

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HITHRIM

358 A.D

In the grand palace of Fingolfin, the High King and the princes of the Noldor assembled for a crucial meeting. The purpose was to discuss the escalating threat of Morgoth and assess his growing power in Angband. Placed in a circle, some seated while others stood as Fingolfin called Angrod into the centre. Entrusted with the task of commanding the siege, he presented to the king an extensive and insightful report on Morgoth's forces and recent developments within their realm.

"These are troubling tidings indeed," Fingolfin's countenance was marked with deep concern, "I fear that Morgoth's power has grown stronger than ever before,"

Aegnor, perceptive as ever, noticed the rhythmic tapping of the king's fingers, a tell tale sign of his profound worry. Aegnor's head bowed, his eyes filled with matching concern, mirroring the weight that burdened the king's heart.

"Even now, we cannot afford to rest upon our laurels of victory. It may be time to confront him once more and end this tyranny that threatens all our realms," Fingolfin continued, his voice resolute. "To whom can I turn for support in this perilous undertaking?"

The room circled with large lamps of fire fell into a hushed silence with only the gentle roar of flame filling its corners, every elven prince absorbed in contemplation.

"I stand with the king," Angrod declared, turning to the princes seated around

"We possess the strength to prevail against him. His power is growing, but it is still greatly weak. We can not allow our forces to dwindle while he gathers his malevolent might."

"Have you learned nothing since we departed from fair Valinor?" A gravily, coarse voice answered him, unmistakably Caranthir's. Slowly, he rose, his tall and slender frame, adorned in garments of black velvet, slithering across the room and into the spacious centre of the circle. "Morgoth is locked away in Angband, and at last, we may draw a breath of relief, and you yearn for us to cease not our strife? There is no threat that lingers still," he sneered.

"Suppose we were to persist, and in so doing, forfeit our own lives. What then of our beloved fathers' silmarils, and the oath we swore to uphold?" Celegorm's voice, far more refined and rich picked up. The room fell silent as the prince's waited for Angrod's response.

"Not my burden," he shrugged simply.

Whispered voices swelled. Caranthir's voice transformed from a snarl into a venomous hiss. "A curse on you Angrod! And all the sons of Finarfin! You speak only with a desire to please the king, yet your words lack any true conviction!"

Aegnor then rose and stepped forward, stepping in front of his brother. "Forgive me, Caranthir, but did you just call my brother a liar? Perchance I am mistaken, retract your words, ere I change my mind!" He growled.

"I will not be threatened by the youngest and lowest born of our houses!" Caranthir barked and pointed at Aegnor's face, "you are just privileged enough to be present among us, let alone be permitted to speak! Be seated and shut your mouth!"

Aegnor smirked, his eyes squinting. "Low born am I, Caranthir?" his devilish grin widened, "How can that be so? I emerged from the proper birth channel when you fell out of your mother from her other opening!" He bellowed boisterously, stepping closer. Caranthir stared him down, unable to conjure words or believe his reddened ears. "Lost for words, so suddenly?" Aegnor added quickly, "It seems your talents here are better suited among thieves and murderers than noble princes!"

"Pah!" Caranthir scoffed loudly. "The half breed is right!" He announced turning to his brothers, the other sons of Feänor, seated behind him. "His Teleri mother was not among her people when we slaughtered them like animals, what a pity! Maybe we should have run our swords through her too!"

At that, Fingon, the king's son, tore into Caranthir with heated words of his own in defence of his cousins, he flew at him like a demon from hell. His teeth clenched in fury. Aegnor acted quickly, holding Fingon back with a slight lift of his arm. Curufin and Celegorm quickly rose and joined the fury. Fingon, Aegnor, and Angrod clashed with the sons of Feänor. Their furious voices rising. The others bearing witness to this could only watch silently. Maedhros and Maglor shook their heads, burying them in their hands, while Turgon and Finrod exchanged disaproving glances. Finally, Aredhal the kings daughter, stood up and in a screech that out drowned them all.

"Be silent!" She shrieked. The high-pitched shrill cut through the wave of furious voices. Immediantly silenced, their gazes locked on the feisty Noldorin princess.

"Lo! Such fearsome warriors, squabbling like a throng of children! In your ceaseless quest for the vilest of insults, you have all lost your minds! Seek reconciliation that we may continue this unhindered! Verily, you are all of an insufferable nature! I take my leave from you and this entire assembly, for I was not brought forth to watch the prattling of such a feeble headed lot!"

She stormed away, leaving the council in a cloud of silence. Like chastised children, the six stood embarrassed and silent in the wake of her departure and the heat of such a scolding. Aegnor looked over at the sons of Feänor, their fragile expressions proving to tempting to resist.

"Did your red ears catch that Caranthir?" He chimed in, "Even a princess discerns your feeble head!"

Caranthirs rage burst forth, lunging at Aegnor only to be swiftly pulled back by his brothers. Caranthir's scratchy, harsh voice hurled profanities as Aegnor's unbridled laughter danced, relishing in the chaos he had wrought. The flurry of angry voices surged once more. Finally, Maedhros rose, his dizzying height towering over the rest. Seizing Caranthir in a firm grip, he dragged his brother away. Caranthirs rage still erupting in a flurry of words. Aegnor regarded him with a creeping haughty smile and fiery gaze. Fingolfin dismissed Aegnor also from their midst, and he went peacefully, his gloating, victorious grin still wide. As the council dragged on, the council of the princes determined that they would cease their attacks on Angband and focus on fortifying their kingdoms. Much to Angrod and the kings discontent.

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Dorthonion

365 A.D

The harsh morning frost blanketed the ground, transforming the muddy terrain and decaying leaves into a dense mixture resembling a frozen soup of wet, rotting wood. As autumn neared its end, the remaining leaves gently descended, painting the landscape with hues of orange, gold, and red. Aegnor and Angrod rode together along the thick forest road, heading north towards Angband. After a night of continuous riding, the early morning hour greeted them as they crossed a shallow, icy stream.

As Aegnor trailed a short distance behind, a faint glint beneath the stream's surface caught his keen eye. He brought his horse to a halt, staring curiously at the object that beckoned his capturing hand. He dismounted, his boots splashing into the icy water, his fingers curled around the object at the bed of the stream. It lay in his warm palm as he stared down at it. A silver harp broach. Small and delicate beyond measure. Aegnors attention was soon shaken by Angrod calling out to him from the edge of the stream.

"I have stumbled upon a lost treasure belonging to a small child, I fear some catastrophe has taken place here!"

Angrod dismissed his concerns, emphasizing their need to press on. Whoever the previous owner was, they were long gone. A sudden, unrelenting feeling overcame Aegnor, an overwhelming unwillingness to abandon this poor child to the hands of fate. Without a word, Aegnor flung himself back upon his horse and galloped away, leaving Angrod behind. Before long, he picked up a trail and diligently followed it for quite a distance until it abruptly stopped. Dismounting once more, Aegnor looked around. It had gone completely cold. The freezing temperature bit at his hands, and he breathed warmth into them. His breath steamed from his mouth like a white cloud.

He closed his eyes and listened. The birds in the trees and the rustling of the insects through the dirt, the dripping of melting frost from the grass. Then, a sound soon echoed in his ears, just within range. The faint drumming of a very distant heartbeat. Aegnor launched into a sprint, leaping over fallen branches and large rocks like a deer. After running a fair distance, he entered a vast clearing within the forest, surrounded by thick trees. An eerie silence enveloped the area. His hand instinctively sought solace on the hilt of his knife as he stepped out into the open.

"I know you are there!" He called out into the foggy emptiness, "Step out from your hiding place, and no harm will come to you!" His call was met with nothing but an eerie stillness. Undeterred, he tried again, his voice slicing through the silence like a sharp blade. "Reveal yourself!"

A subtle clue caught Aegnor's keen eyes—a faint foot impression frosted over in the mud and squashed weed flowers. He followed their trail, leading his gaze toward a large boulder that protruded out of the frozen ground. He picked up a pebble, his fingers curling around it.

"Surrender yourself willingly, and no harm will come to you. You have my word!" The silence persisted. He threw the pebble. It hit the boulder and bounced off its surface, landing on the other side.

"Go away, you fell beast! Leave me alone!" A shrill voice pierced through the air, emanating from the boulder. Aegnor hesitated, his initial concern replaced by a curious intrigue. With caution guiding his steps, he edged closer.

"Step out, now!" He ordered.

"Have you come to eat me at last, foul troll?" The mysterious voice quivered

Offended, he retorted. "No!"

"You are! That is what you claimed the last time before you tried to put me in your mouth!"

"How dare you insinuate such nonsense! I am a lord, not a troll! I have no intention nor desire to 'put you in my mouth'!" Aegnor barked, deeply offended. A swift pause followed, pregnant with silence.

"You speak to me in an attempt to sway my heart to come out! I am no fool! Be gone, you vile creature! I will not be your breakfast today!" The unidentified voice screeched. Aegnor rubbed his face with his hands and snorted loudly. He couldn't believe the absolute absurdity of this situation.

"Do you not see the daylight? There are no trolls! Now stop this foolishness at once and come!" His words were halted in mid sentence by a heavy tap, accompanied by a putrid stench.

Slowly, he turned his head. On his shoulder, a greenish blob of revolting bitted slime had splattered onto his fine elven cloak. He looked up, and his wide eyes were confronted by a mouth of black and yellow teeth, remnants of a recent meal still clinging to its maw. A piercing scream erupted from the troll's throat as it lunged at Aegnor. Reacting swiftly, Aegnor ducked low and rolled away, putting much-needed distance between them. The troll came at him again with furious swipes of its massive claws. Aegnor parried each blow skilfully with his trusty blade, enduring the savage onslaught. He felt the rush of air from its claws as each time the troll would lunge forward only for Aegnor to leap out of its grasp at the last possible moment. With much of his arsenal left upon his horse, he realized he was in grave danger.

"Angrod!" He cried, his thunderous voice shaking the birds from the trees. The faint echoes of his desperate call reached Angrod, and in a moment, he spurred toward the sound.

Agility could prevail for only so long against the brute strength of the troll. In a flash of motion, the foul beast ensnared Aegnor in an iron grip. With a thunderous slam, it bashed him against the hard ground. Again and again, it pulverized him into the dirt. Gasping for air, Aegnor saw stars dance across his vision. But the troll wasn't finished. With a menacing grin, it hoisted him upward. Aegnor felt himself soar through the air before crashing into a sturdy oak with a sickening crunch. Pain erupted through his body, momentarily stunning him. As his senses reeled, the troll seized its chance. It skewered his shoulder brutally with a jagged spear, embedding the weapon deep within the wood. Trapped, Aegnor knew victory was impossible. Bur giving up was not in his nature. He mustered the strength to deliver a forceful kick to the troll's face. The blow forced the ferocious beast backwards with a loud, startled howl. It was not used to pray that fought back.

In that critical moment, the troll regained its senses and hurled once more toward Aegnor. It grabbed his arm that held the dagger and pinned it above his head. Aegnor realized that the fight was lost. The spear embedded in his shoulder stung with intense pain. The troll snarled and opened its massive, dirty clawed hand, closing around on the elf's throat. Exuding a menacing growl, its ugly face contorted with a devilish grin akin to a savage creature preparing to devour its prey.

"Come and eat me troll!" The shrill voice shrieked from behind the boulder

Surprised, the troll whirled its head around toward the source of the unexpected sound. This was Aegnor's window of escape. The quick thinking elf released the dagger from his captured hand and caught it in his other. He thrust the blade through the back of the troll's skull. The beast yelped and gurgled. The troll's body went limp and it slumped upon the ground with a heavy thud. Dark green liquid oozed from its head and mouth, pooling beneath it in a grotesque puddle.

Panting with agony, he grasped the spear in his shoulder, pinning him to the tree. With controlled breaths, he forcefully yanked it, freeing him from the troll's entrapment. He collapsed upon the ground, his voice lifting into sharp cries of searing pain. He clutched his shoulder, and it seeped with blood.

slowly, he rose to his feet. His startled grey eyes swiftly locked onto his brother's form as he finally came into view. The rhythmic gallops of his horse beating upon the ground.

"By the Valar! What in Arda happened here?!" Angrod exclaimed, his face contorted with horror.

"A troll! It attacked me from the shadows!" Aegnor winced

"In the broad daylight!?" Angrod exclaimed

The sound of a snapping twig instantly diverted their attention, causing both brothers to pivot their heads toward the source. Emerging from behind the rock was a figure clad in only a wet, dirty, pale blue dress. Her small frame clutched her chest, shivering violently. A ragged gasp of surprise echoed from Aegnor's soft lips and ran towards her. He fell to his knees before her and grasped her frozen hands.

"Child, you are freezing!" He remarked and swiftly removed his cloak, wrapping it around the shivering girl. Her small body embraced the cloaks' welcome warmth. As he worked to ensure she was tightly wrapped, she saw the outline of his pointed ears adorned with silver piercings.

"You're an elf!?" Her surprise turned to realization. "I called you a troll!" She shivered

"Hush, be still," he whispered, as if by impulse the palm of his hand immediately clasped her cheek.

His eyes met hers for the very first time. A sudden spark ignited between their souls. Her eyes, black and mysterious, drew him in. She was equally enraptured in his. A vibrant light of molten silver and flakes of gold mirrored in their depths both the sun and the moon shone forth. Both are captivating and unnerving. Slowly, he withdrew his hand from her supple, frozen cheek, a sudden, silent enchantment that caught them both off guard. An unexpected tear spilt from his eye, rolling down his face, and it drew her eyes. Aegnor swiftly wiped it away, "I am sorry!" He said abruptly, turning his face away, 'I know not from where that came!"

"What are you doing here!?" The stern, booming voice shattered the spell between their gaze, startling them both into the present. Angrod had dismounted his horse and was swiftly making his way towards them. "These woods are full of danger!"

"Quiet Angrod!" Aegnor firmly scolded him, "this poor child has been through a terrible ordeal! Do you wish to frighten her even more!?" "Aegnor-" Angrod protested before Aegnor cut him off.

"If you wish to aid me, stand in silence or bring me my horse!"

Affronted, but unwilling to utter words, he shouldn't say in the presence of a child, Angrod turned and headed into the woods, mumbling curses under his breath. Aegnor redirected his attention back to the girl, his tone softening.

"Do not let him bother you. My brother is direct, but his concern is valid." A tense pause followed between them. "Why have you come to be out here all alone? Do you not know the danger you were in?" He asked gently

"I was separated from my father," she shivered, her jaw chattering. "I wandered alone for two days," Her sweet voice, trembling with the cold, melted him. Her guileless, storm grey eyes brimmed with innocence and youth. "By nightfall, I came to the bank to drink... and I was seized by that fell creature! Doubtless, he thought I would make a light snack, but I was too swift on my feet. His only prize was my cloak,"

"You wandered these woods alone for two entire days!?" He asked softly, amazement palpable in his calm voice.

"To find my way home, yes... " she chittered. "Although... I'm not sure of the way," she answered, her vulnerability palpable.

"From where do you hail?"

"Ladros,"

A tense sigh clouded from his nostrils, blowing gently into her face. "Well, fear no longer, your harrowing trials are behind you, now come! Put your arms around my neck." With one effortless sweep, he hoisted her small frame up and carried her just as Angrod appeared with Aegnor's reins clasped in his gloved hand.

("Aegnor! Have you lost your senses? The fumes of Angband would certainly kill her!") Angrod exclaimed in their native tongue, ensuring their words remained out of the child's understanding. Aegnor, however, paid no attention and carefully placed her on his horse, grunting loudly as his shoulder protested the effort.

("I am not bringing her to Angband!") Aegnor replied similarly, ("I am taking this girl back to her parents. You will have to proceed without me,")

("Ladros is at least a day's journey from here. It will take too long,") Angrod argued

("What do you propose Angrod!?") Aegnor snapped. ("If the wolves don't get her, then the orc's for a certainty will! If you even think we are leaving her here you -")

("I would never suggest such a thing!") Angrod interrupted ("You know, as well as I do Aegnor, that the threat we face is grave, trolls appearing in daylight! I need you in Angband! I will escort her.")

Aegnor stared silently, contemplating Angrods words with great consideration.

("Nay,") Aegnor replied with a firm shake of his head ("I am bound to this girls charge, the mantle falls on me") Without another word, he spun away and mounted up. switching to the common tongue he announced boldly. "I will join you once I have finished here. I shall not tarry long!"

With a swift motion, he urged his horse into a gallop and rode away toward the trees, the child safely nestled in front of him. Angrod bid him farewell, urging Aegnor to make haste, a complex blend of affection and pride swelled within him for his sibling. Despite their clashes, their bond ran deep. He smiled to himself and mounted his own horse, pressing onward to Angband alone.

Riding together, they crossed the river and ventured into the woods, the rhythmic thumping of galloping hooves being the only sound between them. A multitude of questions fluttered in Aegnor's mind, but only one did he desire to ask.

"What is your name child?"

Her response came in a soft, measured voice, "Andreth... what is yours?"

"Aegnor is my name, fairest girl" he replied softly, casting an enchanting smile upon her dark head.

"Aegnor..." she whispered. His name echoed within her mouth, her tone filled with wonder as she spoke it.

Together, they rode along the mountain cliffs and deep valleys. The breath taking views and chirping winter birds, their songs marking this fateful day. At last, she felt safe again, spurring onward towards home.

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As the ominous clouds darkened and distant thunder echoed, an approaching storm loomed overhead. Animals and birds scurried to find shelter, while heavy rainwater was amassed in the heavens. The cold wind grew fierce, and the icy shower transformed into a relentless downpour, drenching both riders. Aegnor pressed Andreth tighter against his body, attempting to shelter her from the worst of it. The pain in his bleeding shoulder was almost unbearable. A terrible dread suddenly rattled him. Something was horribly wrong.

   "Watch out!" Shrieked Andreth. Her sudden scream snapped Aegnor's focus back, and he pulled on the reins, narrowly missing a deadly collision with a tree.

   His breathing increased rapidly. Suddenly, an intense burst of anguish seized him. He clutched his chest and released a peircing scream of profound agony. His heart rate soared, drumming in his chest with alarming speed. He slipped off his horse in full gallop, collapsing upon the frozen ground.

   Terrified, Andreth grabbed the reins and yanked on them as hard as she could, bringing Aegnor's trusty horse to an abrupt and distressed halt. The elf growled and moaned loudly, writhing upon the ground, aggressively tearing at the seems of his left sleeve. Andreth quickly dismounted and ran to him.

  "Aegnor!?" She cried, terror filling her eyes.

   Finally, his clothing yielded, and he ripped open the seem on his shoulder, revealing his skin beneath.

Andreth gasped in horror as her eyes fell on his injured shoulder. The flesh around his wound had turned a ghastly black, tainted with troll poison, and it was rapidly spreading.

   "Please, stay still!" she whimpered. She placed her hands upon him in a desperate attempt to comfort him. He convulsed violently. His eyes, wide with terror, suddenly looked into hers.

   "Aegnor... please don't die! Please!" She sobbed. Her tear streaked face pleaded for his life. A solemn tear fell from his eye, and he grasped her hands upon his chest.

    "I'm...so sorry!" He whimpered.

  She watched his eyes roll back into his head. He was succumbing to the deadly poison.

    "No... Please!" she begged, her voice trembling. "I need you!"

   Aegnor, panting deeply, heard her final plea before surrendering his consciousness. Her last plea echoed in his mind as everything faded to white.

"I need you!"

○○○

As the sun vanished beyond the horizon, the forest succumbed to an unyielding darkness. The storm had past, and solitary fire served as the sole source of light and warmth, its flickering flames casting eerie shadows and crackling in the stillness. Andreth returned, carrying a makeshift torch and a bundle of twigs and branches. Kneeling, she diligently broke the sticks and tossed them into the fire. Aegnor's still form rested afew feet away. She turned her gaze from the fire to him. Lying down upon his side, his back was turned to her. Behind him, a small wooden cup sat. Within it, the remaining residue of paste.

    His arms curled tightly around him like a cocoon, his fingers curled into his neck. There was no movement bar, the steady expanding and decompressing in his back, offering her some reassurance that he still drew breath. She had removed his entire sleeve of forest green fabric and banded his injured shoulder in its shreds soaked in the paste from the cup.

    The small fire cracked quietly. The torn, saturated cloth tied around the punctured entry and exit wound in his shoulder. Her eyes drifted over the toned arches of his arm and the exposed skin of his shoulder blade. His radiant flesh glowed in the flickering light. She was captivated by the untouched beauty of this otherwordly stranger. She watched and waited, but he did not move. Curiosity overwhelmed her. She carefully crept closer to him. Crawling to his head. She leaned over him, her nose hovering above his cheek. She studied every beautiful contour in his elven face. His eyes were closed, his breathing silent. Her face hovered close above his, then with a twist, she brought her ear close to his mouth.

   She straightened up, sitting on her heels. Her attention was soon fixated on his long, glossy hair, illuminated by the gentle glow of the fire. Utterly mesmerised, she was lost in its allure. With nervous caution, she slowly extended her hand. Her trembling fingers reached towards his coveted mane of gold. 

   Just as the tips of her small fingers barely grazed the strands, Aegnor suddenly stirred. She jolted, retreating backwards, her dress coming perilously close to catching fire. He slowly shifted onto his back. His eyes fluttered open, blinking slowly as he regained awareness. He cast a dazed glance at the crackling flames and then turned his attention to his bandaged shoulder.

  "Aegnor?" She whispered timidly.

   He looked at her and their eyes met. His gaze wrapped in curiousity and confusion, shrouded in mystery. He slowly raised himself up from the ground, leaning on his elbow.

  "Are these the Halls of Mandos?" he asked, his voice low and breathy.

  "No," she replied quietly

  "Then... this is only a dream."

   "No." 

   His silence was heavy with unspoken words as his bright eyes stared into her dark grey pools. He glanced at his bandage shoulder once again, noticing that the blackness that marred his skin had completely disappeared.

   "What did you do to me?" He breathed.

   "The spearhead the troll embedded in your shoulder was veined with poison... I removed it," her nervous voice explained.

   Aegnors head tilted to one side, narrowing his eyes. His wonder in this special young girl, fully aroused. His reply came in a measured, soft timbre. "Troll poison is a complex toxin. One only the mind and hands of a skilled elvish healer can remedy. No ordinary medicine will substitute,"

   "I have devoted my studies to the art of elven healing," she replied shyly, a hint of pride threaded in her growing voice.

   "My grandfather was a master of languages and he taught me the sindarin tongue when I was very young," she went on, "my father has a library filled to the roof with elvish books, and I have read every one," 

  Utterly astonished, Aegnor reigned in his thoughts with a long, thoughtful sigh. "You saved my life, Andreth!" He breathed.

  Her tense fingers clenched the thin fabric of her dirty dress, her shy eyes averting his gaze. Her veil of tangled, long hair curtained her face.

  "You saved me first... Aegnor," she replied quietly. Her shy eyes lowering, she tensed more in his burning gaze.

    A sly smile crept upon his mouth. Her eyes fell upon him once more, his beauty, soaked in the warm light was mesmerizing to say the least. He caught her gaze, and she quickly looked away.

  "Forgive me... I have never seen an elf before. My people tell the stories of the great lord Finrod Felugund and his radiant beauty, akin to the Maiar was he," she spoke dreamily.

  "Lord Finrod? Ah, yes," Aegnor smiled softly and leaned forward, resting his arms on his knees "he is indeed the fairest of our kind, noble and gentle. There has been a gracious and wiser lord never,"

   "You have met him?" Her lips stretched into a wonderful grin.

   "Yes..." he replied simply

   "In the flesh??" 

   "Yes,"

   She gasped in wonder, her hands covering her red cheeks, 

   "Oh..." she had so many questions her heart leaped to ask, but she dared not bombard him, she had only met him. She did not wish him to think her as a novel little creature. Summoning her discipline, she regained her composer and smiled simply. Feigning aloofness. 

   "Yes well.... so the stories of my grandfathers speak the same tales, of his wisdom and his beauty... a gift Eru has given to all the Eldar. "Now I have seen one for myself... I now know them to be true."

   Her words lingered. The realization suddenly gripped her and her heart dropped. She had only met this stranger, yet she was already complimenting his physical appearance. Slowly her shy eyes lifted to him, hoping he hadn't heard her. Their eyes lingered there, Aegnor blinked slowly and gave her a flattering grin. She recoiled immediately, dropping her eyes to her lap. Her shyness extremely apparent. He raised his hand, he swept his lustrous, golden mane back over his head. His face glowed in the fires mesmerizing kiss. Aegnor then rose slowly to his feet.

  "Come, we must be on our way," Aegnor grunted

  "You wish to leave now?" She asked, surprised.

  "Yes!" he replied eagerly and limped towards his horse. "If we leave now, we'll reach Ladros by the morn!"

    She quickly extinguished the fire while he clambered up onto the saddle, flexing his injured shoulder. He winced slightly before lifting her slender frame and settling her in front of him. Confident she was secure, they set off into the darkness, their trot gradually turned to a gallop as they rode through the dense forest.

    Andreth grew increasingly frightened in the thick veil of the forest's merciless shroud.  But Aegnor's keen vision, sharp as a refined blade, allowed him to navigate effortlessly, avoiding any obstacles in their path. At the breaking of the first rays of dawn, Andreth could see the road.

   "This is where I was separated from my father! We are going home!" She cried joyfully.

   As the sun rose across the sky, harrowing a new day, and fell into late evening. Aegnor continued to ride, stopping for no rest. Andreth saw her fathers keep in the distance, a stronghold protected by towering wooden walls and guarded gates. The guards called out as they spotted the figure on horseback approaching at a rapid pace, their alertness growing as the figure drew nearer.

  "It is the Lady Andreth! Open the doors!" The men of the gates cranked the large doors open, and Aegnor flew inside.

   He rode with graceful ease, never breaking his stride as he made his way toward the large central Keep. A tall and captivating woman emerged from the great hall, her long reddish-brown hair braided behind her.

   "Andreth!" she cried out, rushing to them. Her long dress and hair flew gracefully behind her.

   Aegnor dismounted his horse and extended his arms toward the girl. Hesitating for a moment, she leaned in to him, and she slowly slid off the saddle and found herself embraced by him. He held her effortlessly, gently placing her feet on the ground.

   "Andreth!" Her mother ran toward her child with her arms wide open, Andreth cried out to her as she made the rest of the distance.

    Lady Anthel held her tightly, embracing her daughter with immense relief, sobbing loudly and shedding tears. Aegnor gazed at them as mother and daughter embraced tightly. His eyes turned sad, and he glanced away.

    Holding her child, Lady Anthel turned to Aegnor. Her grateful tears met his gaze.

    "You brought my daughter home to us. We are eternally grateful to you!"

   "Give her something to eat and put her straight to rest," Aegnor replied, pulling his cloak over his exposed, bandaged shoulder. "Your daughter will be alright." He then bowed and swiftly turned, mounting his horse. Andreth broke from her mother's arms and ran after him. "Aegnor, wait!"

   She stared up at him as he waited. She opened her mouth to speak, but no words came out, only a blank stare. Suddenly, a loud titter burst from Aegnor, quickly turning his head away, hiding his smile with the back of his hand. His sudden unexpected reaction caused Andreth to break into giggles, and the tension between them melted.

   His smile fading, he finally dropped his hand from his mouth, and a look of sadness crossed his features as his eyes fell upon her once more, immediately sobering Andreth's mood. With a final, lingering glance, Aegnor galloped away without a word.

   He galloped through a small crowd that had gathered and out of the fortress. Andreth broke from her mothers arms and climbed to an elevated position on the rooftop. She watched his figure galloping as he flew across the vast plain, headed for the surrounding trees. His long golden crown flying furiously behind him, like an angel born of earth and wind.

  "Aegnor," His name whispered in her mouth that carried in the air. In that one meeting, an unlikely bond was forged in the most unlikely circumstances, between two of the most unlikely friends.

○○○

Dorthonion

367 A.D

  The bitter chill gnawed at the faces of all who braved the blizzard. The snowstorm was in its full vengeance, ensnaring those seeking refuge and freezing all those who could not find shelter. Snow showered from the skies, embedding the land, whipped by the gusting wind, layering the prince's cloaks as they trudged through the trees, buried in the snow. Their weary horses emitted pained cries as they pressed on, fatigue seeping into every step. The snow touching the very bellies of their powerful steeds in some of the deepest parts. Finally, the elves came to a halt, shielding their faces with gloved hands and gripping their thick hoods tightly.

  "Angrod! The storm worsens! The horses... They need rest!" Aegnor shouted above the howling blizzard as he clutched his hood in his thick gloves, his voice barely audible. "What do we do?"

  Angrod, his dark lashes sprinkled with white flakes, scoured their surroundings. "Ladros is three miles that way. We will seek refuge there until the storms avast!" Angrod led the way, Aegnor following behind. By the time they reached Ladros, the blizzard had abated.

  Exhausted, their horses could only advance at a slow walk as they crossed the threshold of the sturdy wooden gates of the fortress. Finally, they made it to the foot of the steps leading to the grand hall. Warm light emitted from its seems, a welcoming sight for any weary traveller.

  Guards clad in thick, warm furs, quickly descending the steps. Dismounting, the princes entrusted their steeds to the men who led them to the warmth of the stables. The elves were quickly ushered inside. The doors opened, and a homely warmth enveloped them as they entered the great hall. Their hoods and cloaks sprinkled with snow. The heavy doors closed behind them with a loud clank. shutting out the wintry onslaught.

  Angrod and Aegnor flicked off the icy flakes from their garments. Soft music played on in the background as the joyful song of cheery, chattering voices simmered. All eyes now lay upon the two unexpected, hooded guests whose every movement seemed to expel an overwhelming aura of paramount grace and otherworldly poise. Finally, Aegnor and Angrod removed their hoods in perfect synchronization.

   Angrod, his eyes focussed straightforward scanned the faces of the crowd surrounding them, and Aegnor, his attention was immediately drawn to his surroundings, his eyes wandering over every nook and cranny around them. They stared in awe at their unblemished beauty, untouched by the trials of their land. Positioned by the entrance, Aegnor and Angrod stood patiently, awaiting an audience with the lord of the keep.

   "My lords!" Boromir appeared from the crowd and approached them, his face pulled into a delighted, toothy grin. The princes bowed their heads respectfully as Boromir approached with his arm outstretched. He clasped arms with Angrod and then Aegnor. "Your unexpected presence brings much gladness to my heart!"

   "Forgive our untimely intrusion, Boromir. The tempest has taken its toll on our steeds. We humbly request to join with you until they are fully rested, and then we will continue on our way,"

    "My lords, friends are welcome in my home! Come! We have blankets and warm mead aplenty. Rest by the fireplace if you desire!"

    "Your hospitality will not be forgotten, thank you!" Angrod responded graciously, expressing his gratitude with a second respectful bow. Angrod then followed Boromir into the crowd, leaving Aegnor behind. Curious eyes lingered on Aegnor, who was all too aware of the growing attention on him. His attention was suddenly drawn to a young mother who was attempting to comfort her wailing infant.

  "Have no fear! We have not encountered a single monster on this side of Dorthonion. It seems that even they are cowed by the screeching cries of a teething infant!"

 Bursts of hearty laughter rippled around him. Aegnor joined in, his laughter mingling with theirs. A small group of ten or so children had gathered together, their eyes wide with amazement as they stood in silent awe.

  "Look...it is an elf!" Gasped a young girl to her brother, tugging on his arm.

  "No, Grella!" An older boy hushed her. "Father said they weren't real! They exist only in stories!"

  "But Mother said!"

   Aegnor turned his head and glanced at them. They froze immediately as his eyes fell upon them. The elf's lips pulled into a gentle smile as he beheld them all, a hushed silence flowed over them as not one dared speak while his attention was on them. The group stilled, their hearts racing in their chests as the towering elf came to them and gracefully lowered himself down to their eye level. His strong legs folded serenely beneath him.

  "We are real, all of us. As true as the air in which you breathe. What makes you think otherwise?" He asked tenderly

   "We...we meant no offence, my lord," the same young boy stuttered nervously. "Forgive us...my little sister does not yet understand her place,"

  Aegnor's eyes fell upon the young girl, whose large, glistening black pools stared back at him. One hand clasped her lip while the other fidgeted with her long fair hair. Pure innocence filled her sweet, unbroken gaze.

  "Our father tells us it is foolish to believe in such things!" The boy continued. Aegnor smiled at him serenely, and then, his gentle eyes fell back on the girl again.

   "And what about you, fairest child? Do you believe them?" He whispered softly.

   Her eyes faded into a sad frown and her eyes fell upon her feet. "Father says that if elves were real, then so is elf magic. Which is why I shouldn't believe in them. Because magic isnt real..." she replied quietly.

   "Hah, but it is! I have seen it," Aegnor smiled, his eyes glittering with enchantment. Her face lit up.

   "You've seen magic?" She lifted her wide eyes back to him, her gaze twinkling like a blanket of stars.

   "All elves have seen magic, it is as natural us as walking," he replied.

   "Where!?" She gasped. Her moist, blossom pink lips stretched into a wide, gappy toothed grin.

    "In a place called Valinor, that is where we call home," He leaned closer to the smiling girl. His voice softened with a gentle whisper that brimmed with warmth. "And in the night-time, the trees there glow like a thousand stars, and the rivers flow with silver and glittering gold,"

His gleaming smile etched into her memory, frozen in a moment. His ancient eyes casting fathoms of deep memory that her young mind could never comprehend.

  "He's lying..." Another older boy smugly interjected, his voice rich with assertive confidence. "Show us your ears!"

   With a playful glint in his eyes, Aegnor swept back one side of his lustrous golden mane and turned his head. The children gasped in silent amazement. His ear, distinctly elven, beheld in their gaze. Decorating its outter edge, a full set of silver ear piercings dotted all the way up to its pointed tip. In his lobe, one distinct piercing took the form of a coiled snake, twisting around his lower ear. Its fiery eyes set in green emeralds caught the light, dazzling the crowd of children.

   Aegnor turned to the little girl. Her wide beaming face and glittering eyes stared back at him, her sweet countenance locked into a wonderous grin that no disappointment could quell. With a playful wink at her, Aegnor rose to his feet and retreated into the crowd, leaving the children behind, their wonderous grins heralding in the light of a hundred burning suns.

   The hall grew increasingly crowded as news of the surprise visit from the elves spread throughout the fortress. Angrod delighted in engaging with numerous people, filling the room with music and laughter. Young ladies flocked into the space, hoping to catch a glimpse of the elves, causing tension and envy to pour from their suitors. The freezing weather outside was forgotten.

   Where Angrod relished in engagement with many, Aegnor appeared much more distracted. He wandered through the busy crowd, his eyes searching endlessly. Just then, the serene figure of a young girl emerged donning an exquisite gown of a shimering dark rose colour. Adorning her head was a simple gold headband intricately woven into her long black tresses. Eagerly attuned to the rumours of the elves' arrival, she manoeuvred her way through the sea of towering adults, her determination unwavering. Even at the dignified age of twelve years and on the verge of maidenhood, she was still not quite tall enough to see over the shoulders of the adults.

    With nimble steps, she ventured into the kitchen, returning with a sizable barrel of ale and rolled it across the floor, imploring those obstructing her path to yield and setting the barrel upright, ascended its sturdy surface, granting her a vantage point above the multitude. Then, her gaze fell upon him.

   "Aegnor!" Cried Andreth.

    Aegnor turned, his eyes locking onto her. Joy sparked within him, igniting a brilliant smile illuminating his features. Descending from her barrel, she flew toward her prince. With each determined stride carried her like a wingless bird, unimpeded by those in her path.

    She threw herself into his awaiting arms, their reunion brimming with longing and joy. With effortless strength, he lifted her nimble frame off of the floor and spun her in a circle, her resplendent gown flowing gracefully around him. Their joyful laughter mingling, spilling with happiness. Placing her back upon the ground. He knelt down, his eyes level with hers.

   "Andreth, my heart leaps at the sight of you again!" he murmured

   "Oh, Aegnor," she whispered, their separation causing strands of his lustrous golden hair to entwine with her dark locks. Her voice carried a deep affection as she gazed into his radiant eyes, finding them more resplendent than ever before. Her tender touch shifted to his shoulder. "Does it hurt still?"

    "It has never felt better! And I owe it all to you, sweet Andreth!" He smiled.

   Once again, she embraced him with fervour, and he cradled the back of her head against his shoulder.

  "So, you have met my daughter, Lord Aegnor,"   Boromir approached them, a warm smile stretched upon his lips. Reluctantly releasing Andreth from his grasp, Aegnor gracefully rose to his full height, an aura of sheer happiness radiating from his being.

  "You have a remarkable child, Boromir, one I could trust my very life too." Aegnor replied, clenching a fist against his chest and bowing in traditional elvish fashion.

  "Indeed. A bright girl, soon to be a noble lady, she is both my joy and my pride!" Boromir grinned.

   Andreth's beaming smile greeted up at her father's gaze. "Well then, I shall not intrude upon your joyous reunion much longer!" Boromir slipped back into the crowd, leaving his daughter to spend some quality time with her beloved companion once again.

   As the thawing snow outside surrendered to the darkness, the gathering gradually settled. Aegnor and Andreth found themselves seated before a grand fireplace, crackling flames casting a warm glow upon their outstretched hands. Aegnor's fingers hovered above Andreth's in waiting anticipation.

  "The rules are as follows, I attempt to grasp your fingers, and you must thwart my every advance," she exclaimed.

 "I must admit child, I am impressed by the complexity of such a game!" He laughed softly.

  "It is far more than a game, silly elf!" She laughed. "It demands acute cunning and a deft wit to beat!"

  "Ah, this indeed sounds like a game I shall enjoy!" He smiled.

  "Claim your victory against me, or suffer your consequences!" She cried boldly, her eyes sparkling with mirth. Aegnor held completely steady, his fingers hovering above hers.

  "Nothing's happening," he remarked.

  "You must wait, silly!" She giggled, "I am yet to make my move. Have you not a degree of patience Aegnor?!" His ancient eyes lifted to her, a playful twinkle sparkled in their depths.

  "Do you play this... game often?"

  "Only against the adults, yet even they fall pray to my-hah!" 

With suprising speed, she jerked her fingers to touch his, only to touch thin air as he evaded her grasp, retracting his fingers with lighting reflexes. Her gloating, innocent smile melted to surprise.

  "How did you...!?" She snorted, feeling cheated. "How did you anticipate my grasp so easily!? No one has claimed victory over my opening suprise attack!"

   Aegnor sighed loudly, casually picking up his cup, "why do you ask me questions when I am only a silly little elf?" he remarked passively, sipping.

  "Very well!" she exclaimed with newfound determination, "since you have proven to be above my usual opponents, I propose a wager. If I succeed in your capture, you must pledge yourself to my service, vowing to be my protector and to be mine alone, forever and until the end of all time!" She smiled. Aegnor's eyes lingered upon her face, studying her features with intensity.

  "Forever... is a very long time, young Andreth," he murmured, a lingering smile tugging at the corners of his lips.

  "Do you accept my offer?" A gentle tremble escaped her as she held her hopeful hands out. Utterly charmed, Aegnor chuckled softly and placed his cup down.

  "Very well, Andreth," he replaced his hands to their outstretched position, above hers. "You have persuaded me,"  They waited for a lingering, tense moment. Their gazes fixed intensely on their hands..

  "Suddenly, I am nervous," He murmured. 

  "Perhaps I will make it work in my favour... and take your freedom!" she blushed.

   "Perhaps, but be warned... I shall not relinquish what I hold so dear without a fight." He muttered softly. Her voice softened with nervousness as she nibbled her moist lip.

  "Would you fight for me, Aegnor?" she whispered. The light in his eyes shimmered slightly as he met her gaze.

   "I would lay down my very life for you," he answered. 

   She turned red, her beaming smile hard to stifle. She flicked her fingers once more, only this time, her fingers slipped into the stretched open spaces between his. He had made no move to evade her. Slowly, fingers gently curled around her palms. She lifted her gaze, and his soft eyes met hers. A gentle, dream-like smile curved his mouth as he beheld her, confirming what she already knew in her heart. Utterly overwhelmed by a wave of emotion, she pulled her hands away, her eyes falling on the floor like any bashful young girl, her blush growing stronger.

   "Andreth!" Lady Anthel called out to her as she approached her daughter and the elf. "It's time for bed, my darling, bid lord Aegnor goodnight,"

Andreth's demeanour sobered. Crestfallen, she cast her eyes down. Her sadness was palpable.

  "Go with your mother, Andreth," he said softly.

  "I will never see you again... will I Aegnor?" she asked, glancing at him.

   "I will come for you, Andreth. Though the demands of duty keep me bound, and I may be gone for a long while, but someday, I will return," he answered.

  "Please...do not forget me," she pleaded.

  "Andreth," He murmured tenderly, clasping her chin, lifting her innocent face. Her storm-grey eyes slowly met his gaze once more. "As long as the winter yields to the spring, you will forever hold a cherished place within my memory," he whispered.

   She leaned forward and captured him in a tender, forlorn embrace. His hand found its place upon her slender back, his fingers resting upon the folds of her black curtain of hair. Sighing deeply, he surrendered his heart utterly to her warm embrace.

   Then, in an unexpected move, Andreth twisted her head and, upon Aegnor's willing chiselled cheek, placed a soft lingering kiss. Caught off guard, Aegnor turned his head, and in that moment, their eyes met. A gaze that lingered in their eyes held a thousand unspoken words. Then, as swiftly as it came, she broke from his arm and dashed away, sprinting toward her mother. Hand in hand, she was led away by Lady Anthel. From over her shoulder, she turned and cast one final glance at the elven prince whose intense eyes stayed fixed upon her fleeting form. Then suddenly, into the crowd, she was gone.

   Angrod came and sat gracefully beside him. "The guards are readying our steeds, we are departing shortly,"  He spoke, warming his hands. Turning to his brother, who had not even bid him a knod nor word of acknowledgement, he spoke to him yet again, "Aegnor..." He repeated his voice went unheeded by Aegnor whose intense, silent gaze still lingered unwaveringly upon the space she had left behind with Angrod's voice still echoing, fading into the deep chasms of his mind.

 "Aegnor!" 

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Ladros

377 A.D.

  Preparations were in full swing in the vibrant Ladros, nestled amidst rolling hills and embraced by a picturesque landscape. The air was alive with the sounds of laughter and joy, as women adorned the grand hall with tapestries and wrapped gifts. Fragrant wreaths of wildflowers adorned every doorway, infusing the atmosphere with their sweet scent. Meanwhile, the men eagerly anticipated a day of hunting in the lush forests that surrounded Ladros. 

    Lord Boromir stood amidst the stables, carefully grooming his horse. The majestic animal, with its glossy chestnut coat, stood tall and proud. Boromir's hands moved with practised ease, running the brush through the horse's mane.

  "Have you prepared your horse yet?" Boromir asked.

  "You mean the one that was gifted to me?" Bregor replied. "He is a magnificent creature!"

  "Lord Angrod presented it as a gift of begetting," Boromir explained, his weathered hand deftly picking horse hairs with an old, worn brush. "They have their own unique customs, choosing to celebrate the conception rather than the birth."

  Bregor's brow furrowed, his curiosity piqued by the unfamiliar tradition. "Is that not quite the novelty? How could they possibly know when to commemorate it? And even if they did, how would they know which one of the countless times it happened to commemorate?"

   Boromir tittered heartily, his laughter echoing in the stable. "Despite our familiarity with the elf lords, Bregor, certain questions are better left unasked," he said with a smile. "Well, we are ready! Where is he?" he asked, turning to Bregor.

  "Where is who?"

  "Your horse, Bregor!"

  "She told me you had him,"

  "Who did?"

   Realization dawned on Bregor, and his frustration boiled over. "Andreth!" He roared into the open stable doors.

   A powerful black steed rode furiously into the wind. Its glossy coat is rich with a beautiful blue shine. Its hooves beat against the rocky terrain, creating a rhythmic symphony that echoed through the valley.

   Riding atop the horse was a young maiden, Andreth, who seemed to be chasing the wind itself. Her lustrous, unrestrained hair, as dark as an abyss, flowed gracefully behind her like a shadow in the water. She rode with an unmatched grace, effortlessly navigating the meadows, streams, and ancient stone bridges that lay in her path. Like a beautiful wraith, untouched by death, the skirt of her simple white dress with gold trim billowed in the wind behind her.

    Eventually, she came to a halt on a majestic cliff that offered a sweeping view of Dorthonion. Between where two mountains meet, at their base, part of the white wall of Angband stood out, glittering on the sun.  Every day, she has returned to this sport to gaze on out at the elven stronghold that safeguarded their realm. It had been ten long years since she last laid eyes on him, and not a day had passed where he did not linger in her mind. His golden hair and fiery eyes burned their mark in her memory.  The wind blew long strands of her hair across her rosy, full lips. She sighed longingly. She tugged on the reins and swiftly departed from the cliff, venturing on into the depths of the enchanting forest.

   As she rode deeper into the woods, a sense of tranquillity enveloped her. Tall, ancient trees reached towards the heavens, their branches intertwining like a canopy over her head, casting intricate patterns of light and shadow on the forest floor. The air was thick with the earthy scent of moss and damp soil, intermingled with the sweet fragrance of wildflowers that carpeted the forest floor. A gentle brook trickled through the heart of the woodland, its crystal-clear waters beckoned her Andreth guided her horse to the brooks edge. Snorting contentedly, the horse happily drank the refreshing stream. She smiled serenely as it drank. Her fair, slender hands caressed the animal's strong neck. Blissfully unaware of the shadow that lurked behind her.

  "Well, if it isn't the lovely Lady Andreth," a voice, coarse and raspy, spoke.

   Andreth turned to see the trio of men on horseback staring back, the one in the centre, his predatory gaze fixed upon her. His dry, cracked lips stretched into a gnarly, wry grin as he ran his tongue along his yellowed teeth. His face was a canvas of unsightly scars, a broad, strong jaw that matched his form.

  "Nice horse you got there, it aint yours," he jeered.

  "You were warned to stay away from here, Hagrath! Move along and pester me not!" she hissed.

   "Does your brother know you stole his precious beast of burden?" 

   "Does your mother know she birthed a molerat? I do not wish to look upon your ugly face!" Andreth retorted.

  "You better watch that pretty mouth of yours, m'lady!" He grumbled and smiled, "every time you open it, I see it as an invitation," he murmured sardonically. Andreth scoffed loudly.

  "I would willingly surrender myself to an orcs potent kiss and die a shrivelled corpse than suffer even one touch from you! Now be gone, you disgusting man!"

  Scowling, Hagrath angrily dismounted, accompanied by his brothers. The three men closed around Andreth, towering over her. He grabbed her chin,  "Let me kiss you," he murmured. She slapped his hand away.

  "Get your foul hands away from me! Heed my warning and take your leave!" She yelled.

  "What exactly are you going to do if I don't, lady? Where is your brother this time? Not on his horse, dashing to your rescue!" He pointed at the horse as it drank. Taking a slow, deliberate step towards her, his lusty gaze wandered down the sleek curves of her body. "Dearest brother isn't coming to save you. You're all alone, and I've come to collect."

  "You were banished for good reason, wretched snake! Your complete lack of good sense is your own fault!"

  "Lack of good sense is venturing off on your own without an escort, knowing that I roam free!" He stepped closer. "Oh, the things I could do to you... ,"

   Andreth leapt upon her horse, one of the brothers grabbed her leg to pull her back off, but his face was met with hard sole of her shoe as she kicked him away and sped into a full gallop to the trees. Hagrath and his brothers jumped upon their horses and were in hot pursuit. Wooing and jeering at the thrill of the chase for their prize.

  "Yes, run little rabbit! It's gonna be twice as good when we catch ya!!" Hagrath roared with intense excitement.

  Andreth darted through the dense forest on her elven bred horse, faster and stronger than her pursuers steeds it quickly out paced them and gained a far distance until their cries and cheers were but a faint echoes in the winds. Desperate to gain some more distance, Andreth raced faster. Her panic was palpable in her teary eyes. She sprang out from a pathway behind a row of thick trees and near collided with another unknown rider. The other rider fraught to regain control of his horse, his long, dark brown hair flicking wildly around him. An armed elven soldier stared back at her, his grey eyes equally startled.

   Before long, Andreth was completely engulfed by a swarm of soldiers. She had unwittingly run into their patrol, throwing their ranks into chaos. They swerved to avoid her thrashing horse. Within moments, Andreth was completely surrounded by elven faces. Their alert eyes burning into her.

  She seized an opening and galloped through, leaving the patrol of surprised elves behind. She had cleared the forest and had made it to a clearing. Just as she thought she could breathe a sigh of relief. Hagrath alone shot out from the treeline and quickly caught up with her. He leapt from his horse and onto hers, grabbing her. She slammed the back of her head into his face. The dizzying blow served only to fuel his aggression. She released a piercing scream as she thrashed and wrestled. As he was struggling to gain control, a faint echo of thundering hooves grew louder, heading for them, stopping Hagrath's assault.

   The patrolling band of elven soldiers had caught up and was charging toward them at a ferocious speed. In a single line formation, the elves appeared from the treeline as a furious wall of horses and lances. They surrounded the pair. Encircling them in two perfectly formed circles, trotting in opposite directions with the inner circle going one way and the other circle going the other. Menacing glares fixed upon Hagrath. As they finally came to a halt and pointed their imposing elven lances at him. Hagrath hid his fear with rage.

  "This is a private matter between a man and his wife elves! Take your lances out of my face and get lost!" Hagrath snarled. 

Andreth screeched in protest, only for Hagrath to tighten his grip around her and on her mouth. From the orderly formation, one particular elf broke into the centre ring, his broad strong shoulders low and square. . His stern face and glaring fiery eyes locked on Hagrath. His head held with a regal poise, adorned in golden hair like a royal coat of arms. An air of complete authority exuded from him. Andreth froze, her heart stopping. Her eyes grew large and wide at the figure who stood before her. It was Aegnor.

  "You have only two options here, vermin," Aegnors strong voice rattled the air like a clad of thunder "release the girl... or forfeit your life right here. Make your choice," 

Hagrath snarled, his eyes challenging Aegnor's threat. Aegnor's face contorted into boiling rage, his neck hammered with tension. His demonic, blood curdling bellow cracked the air as he roared his final warning. 

  "Now!"

   Hagrath recoiled immediately, throwing his arms in the air. Andreth struck him hard with her elbow and pushed him off. As Hagraths bulky, heavy body came crashing upon the ground, there was a loud snap followed by a wailing cry. Aegnor looked at her. She returned his gaze, her eyes wide and tear stained. A lingering curious gaze passing their fleeting eyes.

  "AARRGH MY ARM!" Hagrath screamed up at Andreth, jolting to his feet, "You broke my arm you tight whore!" He roared

  "I did not know a swine could squeal so loud!" Aegnor roared down at him. "But if the pain of a single useless limb is to much for you too bare mortal, then I will be happy to end your misery right now!" 

  A monster though he was, Hagrath was smart and knew not to provoke this elf's wrath any further. Holding his broken arm, Hagrath scurried away to find his brothers.

  "Take heed! If I see your pathetic carcass in these lands again, I will kill you!" Aegnor called out after him. After Hagraths form had disappeared, Aegnor then turned to the maiden, whose violent trembles did not go unnoticed by him "are you injured my lady?" He asked calmly.

  "Only my pride...my lord, otherwise, I am unharmed.... I thank you," Andreth replied unsteadily, utterly shaken.

  "Do you... not have an escort?" 

  "An escort...?" She replied, her voice weakening with a flush of embarrassment, "I do... well I did... my escort is... likely searching for his horse, my lord... which currently, I am riding..."

   His brow furrowed in obvious confusion as his eyes lowered to her horse as if trying to piece together the unfortunate fate of its original owner, then suddenly, they lifted to hers. His gaze lingered there for far longer than it should have, each caught in an unexpected moment utter unguarded enchantment. Finally, Aegnor broke away, shifting his gaze from ger and cleared his throat.

 "That is unfortunate for him... will you allow I and my soldiers to accompany you anywhere?" He asked slowly

  "You may take me to the river, it is not far from my house," 

 She rode along side Aegnor through the trees, flanked by his retinue of soldiers. Andreth could not stop smiling, her joy at being reunited with her lost friend was overwhelming, more beautiful he seemed to her now then ever before. After a short journey, they arrived at the banks of a wide stream. They rode along its edge until they reached a sandy clearing between the trees. The sunbeams danced through the whispering leaves causing a breath-taking, glittering spectacle on the surface. 

"Is this far enough?"

  "Yes, I shall be safe from here," She replied. there was a still pause between them, her focus shifted to his face. His sparkling, vacant gaze was cast upon the glittering water, the sunlight reflected upon its surface danced beams of light upon his face, his serene eyes captured a mesmerizing glow, both intense and beautiful.

   His eyes flicked to her and caught her staring and she snapped hers away, blushing heavily. Her lips pressed into a tense smile and she nibbled them nervously.

"I do not often find myself in need of a rescuer... I thank you... for your service I mean," she stuttered. His gaze, unwavering and intense, lingered on her, searing their mark upon her skin. The chirping birds and the gentle trickle water amplified the tense silence. Flustered, she clumsily fumbled through her words "you must encounter many adversaries in these dangerous parts. I hear Trolls are among the most frightening... have you seen one?" 

Aegnor drew a long deep breath, turning his face away and released it in a loud, terse sigh. His shoulders and face tensing. Her brow furrowed, her voice e became weak and shaky  betraying a growing hint of desperation to linger in this moment by his side "p..perhaps I may offer you a reward... for your brave deed toward me today. Name your price and I shall grant it" Desperate, she reached out and placed a gentle hand upon the robust arch of his shoulder before she had realised. He glared down at it and his response was delivered in a chilling, low timbre.

"Maiden...I am compelled to warn you that if you reach for me in that manner a second time, you will pull back a stump."

Her innocent expression darkened and she withdrew her hand from his shoulder. The air turned cold as his penetrating gaze froze her solid.

While your boldness is admirable, your flirtations are unwelcome. Now would you kindly take your leave!" He scowled. Her breath trembled, her eyes deeply wounded.

 "Aegnor...." She whispered.

Still locked in the same never ending gaze, she saw a shift in the light of his eyes, his brow furrowing harder, she could see every line on his beautiful face.

 "How do you know my name?" 

 "You have forgotten me... you bastard!" She whispered

   She launched into a fierce gallop, across the stream to the otherside of the bank and onward. He watched her fleeting figure ride away, her raven hair billowing behind her like a black vail of beauty. He was wise to the enchantments of the fairer sex, yet she alone both confused and unnerved him. He had never met anyone as strange as she. Her image haunted his mind for the remainder of his journey as he returned home from his long term stay in Angband.

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Despite previously declining numerous invitations due to the demands of the ongoing siege, the elf lords Angrod and Aegnor finally relented and accepted the long-awaited invitation to Bregor's enchanting wedding celebration. Journeying with them were two armed elven escorts, though they had little need for protection - it was a mere formality. Their journey to Ladros, burdened down with gifts, was filled with mounting anticipation. 

   Angrod had noticed Aegnor's uncharacteristic silence for a long stretch of the way.

   "It came as a surprise to me that you would choose to attend this event, Aegnor, and your undaunted persistence in persuading me to accompany you," Angrod commented,

   "By what do you mean, Angrod?" Aegnor replied, "I simply wish to take part in celebrations with my friends after my overlong stay in Angband." Am I not to enjoy myself even a little?"

   "I mean not that," Angrod smiled softly. "Never are you this eager to attend the celebrations of our own kin. I have found it a far lighter exertion dragging a horse through flames than persuading you to join me in attending them and when you relent, your mood is foul and your face, a vision of utter misery. I have not heard a word from you this entire way."

   "My dear Angrod, perhaps I would be more keen to join you if it were not for the barrage of times you force the burden of elven formality upon me! Making promises on my behalf that I learn of only days later only then to abandon me to the mercy of weeping Sindarin princesses and their scowling fathers!" Aegnor grumbled. Peals of laughter rumbled from Angrod. "Do not laugh! You are undoubtedly a thorn in my side!" Aegnor snorted "this time, we are doing what I want to do!" He added.

   Snickering quietly, Angrod turned his bright eyes to his. "I acknowledge the many times I have betrayed you in those moments Aegnor. Please forgive me," he replied lightly. A silent pause followed, a tender moment of reflection passing between the elven brothers. "But, you seem distracted, uneasy. Is there something that weighs heavy in your mind?" Angrod added smoothly.

   Aegnor took a moment to speak, gazing down at their shadows upon the grass as they trotted onward as a leisurely pace.

   "Before my term in command of the siege, when we sought shelter from the blizzard in Boromir's stronghold... I made a promise to someone... a child very close to my heart," he murmured.

   "To Andreth?" Angrod asked, and Aegnor nodded slowly.

   "I promised her that I would return to visit her. But many terrible winters in Angband had overlonged my stay. I fear... she will not forgive me for staying away too long," he said sadly.

   "We oft see things as larger than they truly are. You are quick to reprimand my criticisms of you but fail to acknowledge your own."  Angrod replied, his warm tone was a soothing balm in Aegnor's ear. "She will be happy to see you again, Aegnor, mark my words. Do not despair for what may not come to pass,"

   "You are right, I mustn't lose hope." Aegnor smiled nervously.

   The air crackled with electric excitement, resonating with the delighted cries of children echoing through the grand hall. The mothers, fully aware of the impending arrival of the revered elven brothers, scurried about like busy bees, meticulously preparing every aspect of the celebration to ensure it was nothing short of perfection while the men had brought home delectable boars, deer's and large fish. There was enough to feed the entire house three times more.

  As the sun's warm rays began to wane, casting a golden glow across the courtyard, Angrod and Aegnor rode through the towering gates in perfect synchrony. Their arrival was met with a burst of exuberance as children flocked to them, their eyes wide with wonder. With a fluid dismount that showcased their innate grace, the elven princes bestowed gifts upon the young ones, gifts that spoke of their refined taste and generous nature. Delectable sweet treats that tantalized the senses, their offerings were an embodiment of their magnanimity.

   Aegnor poured his heart into crafting unique gifts for each little one, a testament to his adoration for the innocence and joy they embodied. Boys received wooden swords and shields, expertly crafted to the finest detail. Symbols of the roles they would eventually take as devoted protectors, like their fathers. The boys eagerly took the gifts and began playing. The young girls were presented with delicate clothing and soft slippers, dolls with long flowing hair, and lifelike limbs. Embroidered with silver and gold, objects of incredible beauty. Wide eyed, the girls gently took the precious gifts from his hands and hugged and kissed the elf with all their strength.

   One particular girl seemed to cast her gaze upon the boys who were playing with their wooden weapons. When it was her turn to receive a present, Aegnor noticed her lack of enthusiasm at the item that was presented to her. Her father urged her to accept the gift of a pair of soft, dainty shoes and matching warm stockings, which she took politely but with an unwilling smile. Her father apologised to Aegnor for his daughters lack of appreciation for such a beautiful gift. Aegnor, however, was far from offended. He leaned into the girl and took her hand in both of his. "This is not the gift that you desire, for another you seek."

   He removed his hand from hers and there in her soft palm lay a crafted wooden knife of remarkable beauty, bound in a detailed leather casing and adorned with a small golden charm in the likeness of a great tree. She gasped in wide-eyed delight as the object lay in her trembling hand. Smiling upon the girl, Aegnor continued, "When the time comes, you will take up arms and defend your home alongside your brothers, and you will be victorious!" he whispered. His gaze fixed upon her sparkling eyes.

  "Yes, my lord!" She beamed, standing straight and stiff like a soldier at attention.

   As the celebratory fervour reached its zenith, the resplendent strains of music filled the air, infusing the hall with an irresistible rhythm that beckoned even the most reluctant souls to join the revelry. The tantalizing aroma of sumptuous food wafted from the bustling kitchens, where skilled hands toiled to create a feast fit for gods. Amidst the joyous bustle, guests immersed themselves in the festivities, their hearts dancing to the melody.

   Young women, their eyes sparkling with admiration, sought the honour of dancing with the elven brothers, their elegance and allure captivating all who beheld them. Yet, with a graceful inclination of their heads, Angrod and Aegnor politely declined every request to dance, as doing so would dishonor their customs.

   As the celebration took hold and all where joyful, amid the revelry, Angrod, bearing a chalice of wine, approached his brother. The latter, lost in a sea of serene contemplation, his gaze fixed upon the swirling vortex of dancers. Angrod extended the chalice to his brother, a twinkle in his eyes as he savoured the rich aroma of the wine.

   ("This fine vintage holds a richness like no other, do you not agree?") Angrod spoke. His lips captured its succulent taste as he gulped. With a knowing smile, Aegnor chuckled as he took his chalice from Angrod's fair hand. The rich, rolling vowels of the elvish tongue caressed his lips.

  ("You detest men's ale, is that not indeed why you brought it,") he grinned.

   A soft groan if agreement echoed from Angrod's throat as he drank, confirming Aegnor's light-hearted suspicion. Aegnor smiled softly as he swallowed down the rich dew. Aegnor moaned softly with pleasure as the sweet, honeyed wine slipped down his throat like velvet upon his tongue, his sences numbing ever so slightly from its intoxicating comfort. The fleeting mirth soon gave way to a muted sorrow that clouded Aegnor's countenance. A heavy trembling sigh escaped his lips, capturing Angrod's attention. Angrod noticed his brother's subtle shift as his gaze cast out upon the many faces around him.

 ("Does someone linger in your thoughts, brother. Who is it you seek?") Angrod asked curiously. Aegnor slowly brought his cup to his lips, hiding his mouth

 ("No one,") he replied and took a long sip.

  "Lords and ladies! Young and old! Thank you for celebrating this wonderful evening with us!" Bregor stood in the centre of the hall. His voice carried over the crowd, whose voices simmered to a quiet still.

   "My fair bride, Variel, and I are most honoured to welcome two esteemed guests amongst our gathering this eve. They are noble elven princes, dutiful lords, and - above all else - loyal brothers whose unwavering love and kinship shine forth as a beacon to us all."

   Bregor gestured grandly towards the brothers, prompting a swell of hearty applause from the assembled company. Angrod and Aegnor inclined their heads graciously, the light of the hall glimmering in their eyes.

  "In days long past, these valorous lords risked life and limb to defend one who is most precious to our people. Their selfless actions have earned them an eternal place in our hearts."

   A shadow passed over Aegnor's fair countenance, his gaze cast down solemnly. Bregor paused, his voice growing thick with emotion.  "And so, without further delay, I declare the games open!" he proclaimed, his arm sweeping wide. "Every boy and man here will have the chance to prove his mettle and win his prize and I assure you, they are enviable! Let the tournaments commence!"   

   The crowd into thunderous cheers, the air alive with the energy of anticipation. Angrod and Aegnor exchanged a weighted glance, and the significance of this moment etched upon their noble features. The men of the hall erupted into a cheer, their voices lifted in eager anticipation as they clamoured to demonstrate their martial prowess. Yet Bregor raised a stilling hand, and the noise gradually subsided, as when the gales of a tempest give way to a hush.

  "And as a boon requested by my fair bride, Variel," he announced, his tone rich and joyful, "mayhap our noble elven lords do us the honor of opening this much anticipated moment with a display of their own valor and deft skill in a friendly sparring!"

    The crowd roared in excitement, thrilled at the prospect of witnessing elven skill in combat. The elves smiled flatteringly as the assembled throng erupted once more into thunderous applause, the very rafters trembling with the force of their jubilation. 

  "My lords," Bregor addressed them, "will you grant us the privilege of witnessing your vigour?"

   As if moved by a single impulse, the crowd began to beat a rhythmic tattoo against the tables, the staccato of their mugs growing ever louder and more insistent The tempo quickened, the beat growing thunderous, until it threatened to drown out all other sounds.

   Angrod and Aegnor exchanged another glance. Finally, Angrod stepped forth, his bearing regal and his countenance serene, and with a subtle raising of his hand, the clamorous din at last subsided, the hall falling into a hush pregnant with expectation.

  "My friends," he announced. "My brother and I understand that you wish to witness such combat that can only be seen on the field of battle, but Alas! Such displays are not in keeping with our own traditions. I can not, in good faith, allow them to be so easily cast aside!" Disappointed groans echoed around, and Angrod swiftly silenced them once more. "As for Aegnor, I beg you show him mercy. He has already tasted defeat at my hands. It would be an injustice to put him through such utter humiliation twice!" 

   A loud jarring laugh erupted from Aegnor, and he turned around to face the crowd, placing both hands on his hips in a dramatic pose. "Forgive my foolish older brother. His memory does not serve him well! It was I who bettered him in our last round!"

  "The only fool I see is you Aegnor, perhaps you wish to prove your inferiority to me once more?" He smiled, drawing his sword. The excited crowd taunted Aegnor to respond and the brothers began to circle the other slowly. 

  "You always speak with such fire Angrod, yet we both know who will be the victor in this match!" Aegnor laughed as he withdrew two twin blades. Smouldering, Angrod raised his sword, challenging him and the crowds excitement voices grew intensely,  men, women and children eager to see them show their skill. Finally, the bride stood up from her table wearing a dazzling smile. She held out her hand that held in her delicate fingers a crisp, white handkerchief and dropped it, signalling the beginning of the fight.

  Biting down on his lip in a wide grin, Aegnor dived at Angrod and their blades clanked loudly. The crowd cheered as the brothers sparred, each intimately familiar with the others' style and anticipated each other's next move. Aegnor proved the dominant aggressor, gaining ground quickly where Angrod adopted a far more calculated, defensive style, skilfully fending off every attack his younger brother threw at him. The display of superior elven strength and grace wowed the crowd as the brothers clashed competitively without being overly aggressive.

   At one point, Angrod had managed to disarm one of Aegnor's twin blades and threw it across the floor, after which Aegnor was thrown into a table, shattering it. Cheers ramped up as their speed increased. The men and children roared with excitement and admiration, and they watched the elves fly with such increasing virility. While the young women grew increasingly hot beneath their gowns as the brothers grunted, puffed and groaned with each intense strike.

   Finally, the climax arrived in a flurry of moves. Aegnor showed his agility with a roundoff back handspring tuck, gaining rapid distance. Then, he leapt at Angrod like a pouncing wildcat. Angrod, with only a moment to respond, imbedded his blade into the ground and moved forward just as Aegnor landed. Aegnor whirled around and threw a forceful punch. Angrod deflected and grabbed his brothers arm, grappling him from behind. It became a battle of wills as each brother tried to overpower the other with raw strength.

   Angrod attempted to wrestle the remaining blade from Aegnor's hand. Just as his grip released, Aegnor slammed the back of his head into Angrod's face, the blow stunning him momentarily. Spinning gracefully out of Angrod's weakened hold, he countered with a tight, sideways barrel roll over Angrod's back, rotating parallel to the ground before sliding on his knees, snatching his discarded weapon. Springing to his feet, he whirled back again and pointed his blade directly at Angrod, who pointed Aegnor's other blade back at him. The only sound was the soft panting breaths of the elves as they stared intensly at one another. They were equally matched.

    The onlookers erupted with applause, and the young boys cheered furiously at witnessing such a match. Angrod's intense expression soon melted to a proud smile and flipped Aegnor's blade around with the hilt pointed forward, announcing the end of their match. Aegnor smiled and accepted his blade back. The brothers simultaneously turned and bowed to Bregor and his bride, who was clapping vigorously. Music and laughter continued with the crowd now more cheerful than ever at witnessing such an awe-inspiring moment.

   Meanwhile, Andreth was engrossed in the tedious task of chopping vegetables, hidden away in the kitchen. She did her best to ignore the muffled roars and cheers of the crowd from the great hall. Dressed in a simple, blue dress and an apron, she looked no different than a lowly servant though her raven-black tresses hung unbound, cascading down her slender body, covering it in a thick blanket of beauty. Lady Anthel discovered her daughter, who had been missing for most of the evening, busying herself with the work of the servants.

  "Why do you linger here, Andreth?" Lady Anthel inquired, her voice tender and laced with concern. "Daughter, should you be revelling in the festivities with everyone else?"

   Andreth, her gaze fixed on her task, responded with a passive tone, "The kitchens are overwhelmed. With more guests than expected, someone needs to make use of themselves."

  "Your friend is among them..." Lady Anthel pressed gently. Andreth ignored her, chopping still. "Will you not at least greet him?" She asked. A flicker of annoyance passed over Andreth's face, and she retorted,

  "Mother, please! That was a long time ago. We are not friends anymore," Frustration evident in her voice. She began to slice ingredients on the chopping board with forceful thumps.

   "Andreth!" Lady Anthel gasped.

   "People grow apart, mother. It is the way things are. I do not wish to keep his company," Andreth retorted.

  "He saved your life, Andreth! Lest you forget!" Lady Anthel reminded her. Andreth sighed, her eyes evading her mothers gaze. "You owe him at the least a polite greeting!" She added and left her daughter sider returning to the celebration and the soft echoes of joyous laughter, music, and song, leaving Andreth to sulk in her wake. Anger boiled inside, and she returned to chopping, far more aggressively than before.

  "Oh yes, a friend he is..." She seethed to herself "yet knows not my name nor who I am!" 

    Her anger relented, replaced by undeniable sadness. A gentle tear fell from her eye and ran down her nose. She clung the weight in her chest. Her heart thumped like a drum of war.

   "Did I truly mean so little to you that you would forget me so completely, Aegnor?

  Her breath hitched as she wept softly into the lonely, quiet space. She could not face him now, not after their last parting. She would make an effort to avoid him. It was, after all, a fairly large gathering. It would be easy to lose him in a crowd.

   The dancing and games were in full swing, and the mood was alive with cheer. Andreth finally appeared. Her presence silencing onlookers surrounding her. A long, striking, pale green gown with gold embellishments, tight sleeves, and a low neckline that displayed her beautiful shoulders coupled with a small gold headband and glistening necklace that drew attention to her long, slender neck. Simple, elegant with a delicate touch of sensuality. The perfect blend. As she waded through the men and women, she drew eyes from all around. Many greet her with utmost respect.

   She blended immediately with the crowd, weaving in and out of the sea of bodies. She came and went hardly noticed to say for a few servants. Finally, she peered out behind a tall man who was heavily engaged in joyous drinking. From across the large space of dancers in the centre of the long hall on the opposite side, there he stood, leaning against a wooden beam, sipping from his chalice. His mysterious and mesmerising gaze as he watched the dancers took her breath away. The flickering firelight cast a soft, warm glow upon his angelic face, causing his eyes to sparkle and dance. She had forgotten in that moment her utterly beautiful he truly was. His countenance, regal and serene, betrayed a quiet sadness. She found herself once again utterly captivated by him. A beautiful red-haired woman approached him, Ilnalith, Andreth's own cousin.

  Andreth witnessed her bow to Aegnor and exchanged silent words with him in what she could only guess was an invitation to dance with her. She watched as Aegnor gently shook his head, denying her request, to which she graciously accepted and departed on search of another partner. Unable to bear the sight of him any longer, Andreth then left her human shield behind and continued on her path. Hoping to find and congratulate her brother and his wife, then depart once again to her bed chambers and not return for the remainder of the night.

   As her search for her brother continued, Andreth's gaze was captured by a small hand emerging from behind a tablecloth, attempting to snatch some delectable pastries from beneath the table. A playful grin stretched on Andreth's face.

   She arranged an assortment of mouth-watering treats onto a plate and squatted low with her knees pressed together and gently lifted the cloth, slipping the plate underneath the table. Children's joyous giggles echoed from the cloth as they received their offering.

    Grinning, she rose and stepped away, turning back to cast one last fleeting glance at them. Unable to see where she was going, her back collided with an with a solid force as it was marching quickly past. The strength of the body she bumped into knocked her off of her feet, and she fell toward the ground. A large, powerful hand grasped her upper arm, putting an immediate halt to her undignified tumble.

  "Are you hurt, my lady?" Aegnor's soft gaze grew wide, then hardened into a stern, peircing glare. "You!" He hissed. Stricken with an unadulterated panic, Andreth yanked her arm from Aegnors grasp. It came away with ease. Angrod, who was following behind, also stopped.

   "Do you know this maiden, Aegnor?" Angrod asked. Aegnor scowled at Andreth intensely.

   "Let her speak!" Aegnor barked with an aggressive wave of his hand to her face. Andreth stood silently as if her very mind had frozen. Angrod looked confusingly upon her. In the sight of both the elves, their intense expressions burning into her, she lost her composure and ran, her figure dissolving into the crowd of bodies, the gentle flow of her pale dress, the only goodbye. 

  "Wait!" Aegnor yelled. He dashed after her. A firm hand grabbed his thick arm, pulling him back with decent force.

  "Aegnor!" Angrod hissed, "You can not go chasing a maiden in such a manner! Have you completely lost your senses!?" Tearing his eyes away, Aegnor's longing gaze remained fixed in the direction she left, twisting his arm out of Angrod's grasp.

  "Let her go, come," Angrod muttered.

   Angrod continued onward, weaving through the crowd to the archery competitions being held. Aegnor reluctantly complied and slowly followed behind, his eyes fixed on where she had left. The night was alive with the sounds of laughter and music, as people revelled in the festivities. The games and contests had drawn a crowd, and every eager participant took part.

   However, as the evening wore on and the youngest of the children and their mothers bid their farewells. A man called Rolfe, a skilled chief hunter, was also known to be a particularly dangerous drunkard. A scuffle broke out between him and another man over some ale. The commotion brought Bregor and afew other men upon them, splitting them up. The fight caught the attention of the entire hall, and from the crowd, Aegnor and Angrod emerged.

   When it had been established who the aggressor was, Bregor asked Rolfe to leave. However, Laughter burst from Rolfe's lips, loud and boisterous, as he stumbled around. His attempt to charm Bregor with a clumsy embrace was met with a swift push. In a fit of rage, Rolfe seized a decoration from the nearby table, shattering it in his hand to fashion a makeshift weapon. He held it menacingly close to Bregor's face.

   Sensing the gravity of the situation, Angrod cast a tense glance at Aegnor, who acknowledged it with a subtle nod, silently communicating their unified stance. Angrod discreetly positioned his hand behind his back, between his fingers. He pulled from his bracer, two small, deadly throwing knives. Angrod swivelled his body, slipping one foot behind the other. Poised and ready, his eyes and aim locked on Rolfe, and he waited for Aegnors signal.

   After a prolonged and tense pause, Rolfe's twisted smile widened, and he released his grip on the offending weapon that he held to Bregor's face, allowing it to crash into the floor.

  Instead, he publicly challenged Bregor to a knife throwing contest.  He would throw the first blade, and if Bregor bested or drew with his throw, he would leave. Bregor, having suffered from a broken hand, knew he would not stand a chance, yet, as his bride watched, he couldn't forfeit and reluctantly agreed.

   As the board was being set up, a large crowd gathered excited to watch. Aegnor noticed Bregor's look of discomfort and the constant rubbing of his hand. The board was ready, and Rolfe aimed and threw. Despite his intoxicated state, the knife hit the target right in the centre. Rolfe cheered and bowed, yet only a light applause followed. Then came Bregor's turn. He stared down at the knife awaiting his hand, hesitating with a prolonged pause.

  "Pick up your knife!" His challenger slurred.

  "When you forfeit, perhaps I shall have the honour of stealing a kiss from your beautiful young wife!" A surge of anger blazed within Bregor. In an instant, he seized Rolfe by his clothing in a threatening grip. Just then, Andreth appeared  from the crowd, her worried eyes locked on the man her brother was threatening.

When Aegnor saw her, he told Angrod to stand down and rushed between them, separating them.

  "Drunken fool!" Aegnor hissed. "You will show your lord the respect due to him or leave!" His voice was deep and soaked with authority.

  "We had a bargain! A mans word is his honour, something you know nothing of, elf!" Rolfe scowled at Aegnor. "But, if you wish to take his place, I would be happy to put you in yours too! Oh, princely one!" He sneered with a mocking bow.

   The air grew tense, the room holding its breath. Aegnor's fists tightened into a ball, and his lips curled with rage, he inhaled slowly and deeply, closing his eyes. Then the tension in his body quickly dispersed and in a single swift motion, Aegnor snatched the knife on the table and, without pausing to aim, launched it directly at the target board. The knife wheeled through the air like a spinning weapon, hitting its mark with such force that the wood splintered and shattered upon impact. Embedded deep within the bullseye, only the hilt of the knife remained visible, protruding from the fragmented wood.

   The crowd erupted in passionate cheering and applause. The guards promptly came, dragging the troublemaker away but not before Aegnor had grabbed him and pulled him close. "Drunk or not, if you dare to disrespect me in such a manner again, your head shall be my board and your skull, shrapnel for the walls!" He seethed.

   Rolfe was then dragged away and forcefully ejected into the shadow of the cold night. Aegnor, beaming with satisfaction, turned and clasped arms with a relieved and grateful Bregor, solidifying the bond between them. Aegnor turned his gaze towards Andreth, who couldn't conceal her admiration at that moment. A smile played upon her lips as she slowly clapped along with the jubilant crowd. He passed her a subtle smirk before turning away once again. The room buzzed with a sense of triumph and harmony as the festivities resumed. The night had taken an unexpected turn, but the resolution had only strengthened the bonds of friendship and respect. Aegnor's unwavering display of leadership had left an indelible mark, earning him the admiration and support of those around him.

   "Andreth!" Beryl cried aloud as she sprinted toward her older sister, eager to show her a new ring she had acquired. Her wide eyes, infused with panic, immediately spun toward Aegnor, who, to her horror, was staring directly back at her, his expression mirroring hers. He had heard her name called, her identity discovered. Panic erupted within her. Every sound around her dulled as her heart sank like a boulder in a fathomless ocean. She fled from him, disappearing into the crowd once more, her long ebony hair swinging behind her. Throwing all caution to the wind, Aegnor immediately charged after her, refusing this time to let her slip away.

   He gave quick chase, marching through the crowd. She slipped between the sea of bodies, her long hair flicking behind her with every stolen glance from over her shoulder. In his minds eye, he saw the last moments of their final parting as she was taken away, her serene, mysterious eyes glancing back at him, but she was only then a young girl. She vanished through a hidden guard door that led to the rooftop, and Aegnor followed suit. He climbed the wooden stairs, calling out to her as he went, but his calls went unanswered. Reaching the top, he found a door slightly ajar, and slowly, he pushed it open. Below a glittering night sky illuminated only by starlight, Andreth stood before him with her back facing him. Her arms drawn in close to her chest, soft weeping whispered from her. Slowly, he closed the door behind him, locking out the world from them.

    "Andreth?" 

   "Leave me alone!" she whimpered sorrowfully. "I do not wish to look at you again!" 

  "Andreth...," Aegnor breathed, "Turn around,"

   She slowly turned, wiping her tears. Their eyes met. Locks of black hair partially obscured her face flowing down her pale green dress. Her face and bare shoulders, tense with rage. Aegnor stepped closer.. The air between them grew thick with unspoken words, a palpable tension that threatened to smother all else. Aegnor's gaze was transfixed upon the woman before him, his eyes widening with a myriad of emotions - disbelief, wonder, and an anguish that seemed to pierce the very depths of his ancient heart.

  "Is it truly you?" he breathed, his voice barely above a whisper. Then, as if the sight of her was too much to bear, he tore his eyes away, casting his gaze downward in shame. "You have grown," he murmured, the words weighted with a thousand unspoken sentiments.

   "Yes," she replied plainly, her tone terse and angry.

A heavy silence hung between them, pregnant with the weight of years untold. 

   "How long has it been?" He mused

 She sighed, her intense gaze falling to the ground. "Does it truly matter, Aegnor? You came not once to see me, and I have heard not a word from you in all this time. Why now would you desire to know?"

   "Andreth, I-" he began, only to be silenced by the anguish in her voice.

   "Every day, I waited for your return, but you did not come," she said, her words laced with a pain that cut him to the core. "I began to search for you, hoping to catch even a fleeting glimpse of you from afar. Then, the day had come - I finally found you." Her voice rose in intensity, the anguish of her words threatening to crack the very air around them. "I am being fondled by a filthy piece of horse manure and his merry band of pigs!"

    Aegnor's brow furrowed, his features contorted with a tempest of emotions.

   "Why did you not speak so!?" he demanded, his voice matching the intensity of her own, "twice, you revealed not your name to me, verily, you ran away! Why did hide the truth from me!?"

   "You made a promise!" she roared, the anguish in her voice shattering the very stillness that had enveloped them. "Not a day went by when I did not think of you and all you promised me! Yet you did not come... not even a single missive of reassurance that I still resided in your care. And then I saw you... and you treat me with no less contempt than the vile creatures you slaughter!" 

    Her breath hitched loudly in the stillness, her eyes soaked with tears as she crumbled before his silent gaze. "You are a heartless bastard Aegnor!" 

    She broke into sobs. Her desperate cries tore into his heart. He slowly closed the distance between them, his voice tinged with deep regret.

    "Fair child, heed my words, for they are borne of a heart entwined with sorrow. Those long, shadowed days spent in the depths of Angband were nigh unbearable, a torment that gnawed at my spirit. Yet, in the bleakest moments, when despair threatened to engulf me, the thought of your return was my sole solace. The child I left in Dorthonion, so many years ago, was as courageous as the roaring wind and as steadfast as the heart of a noble king—I should have known it was you."

    With tender reverence, he cupped her cheek, lifting her tear-stained face to meet his gaze. "O child of my heart, I am deeply sorry."

    Her sobs erupted once more, the anguish in her heart lifting with his heartfelt plea. She embraced him, burying her face into his solid chest, and after a brief hesitation, Aegnor returned the affection, wrapping her in his strong arms. His hand lay protectively on the back of her head, his fingertips entangled in her hair as she wept, her tears finally subsiding.

  "You really are a silly elf!" She sniffed.

A soft chuckle from Aegnor dispelled the last shred of tension between them, and Andreth found the courage to behold his eyes once more. Andreth's eyes reflected the stars above them. Aegnor found himself pulled in. Caught unexpectedly in a silent moment, unable to look away, and she equally was utterly enthralled. The door suddenly clanked, breaking the moment. Lady Anthel loomed in the open door frame, her tall slender shape outlined in the darkness. 

  "Andreth, child! I see you have reacquainted yourself with your friend!" she announced. "I noticed your absence, and I came looking for you. You must not drift so far, my daughter!" She warned

 "Oh, mother!" Andreth croaked. "You make a habit of encroaching upon all my ventures, have you not?"

Aegnor laughed. "It seems no difference lies between mothers of both the Eldar and Youngar. She is merely concerned for you, that is all," He turned confidently to the lady and bowed. "My lady, I thank you for allowing me a moment of reunion with your beloved daughter, but I must return to the festivities, I am sure my brother is missing me," he turned back to Andreth,"when you return, join me," Without another word, Aegnor briskly left the women alone upon the rooftop.

  "I see you're wearing the dress you were saving for your presentation to your suitors." Anthel smirked

  "I decided it was an equally special occasion," Andreth replied, swishing the long hem around. 

  "Andreth... did you lower the neck!?"

  "Only by afew inches, it is hardly noticeable," she smirked

   "Andreth! I will not present my daughter to our neighbouring kingdoms as a loose woman! You will return the neckline to its original place by morning, am I clear!?"

   "Yes, mother," she giggled.

   After finally escaping her mother, Andreth returned to the celebrations. She exuded a new aura of confidence, and many took notice of her as she waded through in her pale green dress, especially the men. She looked for Aegnor, but he was nowhere in sight. Her first thought was the archery competition, an area of the hall that crawled with rowdy men all looking to out score the other, but he was not among them. She took note of the scoreboard and noticed his name. It was obvious he had taken part in the competition and held second place beneath Bregor. Though, this seemed more calculated on his part. As her search continued, she was halted by a gentle tapping on her shoulder. She turned and beheld Aegnor's own brother Angrod. He bowed graciously to her, and she returned it with matching grace.

   "Lord Angrod!" She addressed him with maturity and dignity.

    "It is good to see you again, Lady Andreth," Angrod spoke, his voice tinged with warmth. "I was informed by my brother Aegnor of the grave misfortune that befell him on his task to return you to Ladros, I wished to convey my heartfelt thanks for the charge you took to safeguard his life."

   Her eyes cast down she was too modest to meet his gaze. "Thank you, lord," 

    Angrod smiled warmly and stepped closer, his voice growing soft. "If you seek Aegnor, you will find him amoung those who bring him the greatest of joys," 

   With another shallow bow, Angrod gracefully departed from her presence. She felt a tugging on her dress, she turned to see a small girl whose black curly hair and black eyes met her gaze coupled by a sweet, adoring smile, she was eager to take her hand. She allowed the girl to lead her away, and she was brought to a small cluster of children seated in a neat circle with Aegnor sitting in the centre.

    His long legs tucked neatly beneath him in a pose that matched the children's, only more serene. With fluid movements and a rich velvety voice, he lulled the children's minds, enchanting their imaginations with tales of his homeland and of his people. Suddenly, the little girl parted from Andreth's grasp and ran towards Aegnor. He received her warmly, cradling her tiny body in his arms like a mother would her own child, and soon, she was followed by the others. Before long, Aegnor was swarmed in a blanket of smiling, affectionate children, their small hands stroking him. Andreths eyes swelled with tears as she watched such a beautiful moment. Aegnor finally noticed her standing close by.

  "It is the good lady, Andreth!" One boy called, and some children broke from Aegnor and ran to Andreth, pulling her closer. Aegnor slowly stood up from his cocoon of loving children, smiling at her. He towered over them at full height, and they all crowded at his feet. Andreth could see just how safe they felt with him and why. 

   "Why are you crying?" He asked

   "These children, many of them have lost their parents to this war. They have never known the warmth of a fathers love. It is no wonder they take to you so readily," 

   "The siege has taken so much from so many. But these children need love. For what good is hope for them without it."

   "I agree," she nodded. "My father has taken them into his household. We are doing all we can, but their numbers are growing. It is a sad nature of evil. Not even the most innocent are left untouched,"

   "The children shouldn't suffer, no matter what loses they face. There is always more that could be done for them," he replied. Andreth nodded. The children began to yawn, and Andreth, with the assistance of Aegnor, put them all to bed. They nestled down with ease. One large bed for the girls and a separate one for the boys. They fell asleep quickly, their little mouth bent into a permanent, peaceful smile. 

   As the celebrations gently wound to their end, each couple was given a delicate, flickering lantern and invited to join the bride and groom outside for the final tradition. Andreth and Aegnor stood together amidst the gathered crowd, surrounding the house of Boromir. Bregor and Variel stood elevated, facing them.

  "The celebration of lights - it is when the bride and groom mark their love, a union forged by hope and promise. What a wondrous spectacle it promises to be!" Andreth whispered reverently to Aegnor as they waited with bated breath. With a graceful motion, Bregor lit the lantern cradled in his and Variel's hands. It burst to life, the flame dancing within its gossamer shell, casting a warm, amber glow. One by one, the crowd followed suit until the fortress of Ladros was aglow with an endless sea of gentle, floating lights - eager to take flight and soar.

    Bregor and Variel released their lantern, which drifted upward into the velvety night sky, soon joined by Boromir and Anthel's. The entire heavens began to glimmer as the lanterns took on a mesmerizing spiral formation, swirling in perfect synchrony beneath the twinkling stars. Andreth lit their lantern, and it burst to life in Aegnor's hands, tugging gently, yearning to join the celestial dance. He tenderly released it, and it gracefully ascended, merging with the dazzling display above them. Andreth's gaze shifted to Aegnor, whose eyes were transfixed by the captivating sight, his features softened by a look of pure wonder.

   The twinkling lights were reflected in his eyes, a serene smile gracing his lips as he was utterly enchanted by the breath-taking spectacle unfolding before them. In that silent moment, Andreth's heart swelled with profound admiration, for the elf she held so dear. Her gaze then fell to Aegnors hand. Ever so gently, she began to reach for its touch. As her delicate fingers drew nearer, Aegnor suddenly turned to her, and she ceased immediately, pulling away. 

    "Will you return to Ladros, Aegnor?" She breathed quickly, her flushed, shy face held downwards. 

   "Perhaps," he replied slowly. "Do you wish me too?" 

   "The children shall be lonely without you," she smiled, her gaze still cast to the ground.

   "Then I will come," 

   Finally, her eyes met his. A beautiful light shined in his. A light she had never beheld before. Their gaze lingered, and a slow but promising smile crept upon his lips. 

   "I promise," he whispered. 

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The cooling water from the stream splashed against Angrod's face, providing a blissful respite from the scorching summer sun. As the brothers paused to catch their breath, Aegnor leaned against a towering tree, one foot propped up on its sturdy trunk, angrily chomping on an apple.

  ("I had assumed your knowledge of these parts was far superior to mine, brother!") Aegnor grumbled in elvish, his furious glare betraying his temperament.

   Angrod flicked the cooling water off his fingers and turned to face his sibling, his expression tinged with aggravation.

  ("I loath to remind you that it was you who insisted upon this shortcut that you claimed you had charted before, one that was unfamiliar to me. And your incessant complaints have been not but a hindrance. A bird would not complain as much as you do if it were jolted from its perch!") Angrod retorted ("Once again, you fail to remember that I have an esteemed sense of direction!")

  ("Yes, I recall the moments I followed your 'esteemed sense of direction' brother, like our journey through Nan-Tathren?")

  ("That was not my fault! We were unexpectedly cut off!") Angrod retorted, shedding his cloak.

  ("My near drowning, being washed away in the Mouths Of Sirion!") Aegnor continued. 

  ("Enough of this prattle. Let us be off before I am sorely tempted to drown you in this accursed lake right now!") Angrod spun and strode away, leaving Aegnor to trail behind, his mood souring more with ever slumped, angry step.

  ("And let us not forget my misfortune, stranded in a marsh for four tormenting days falling into that river had brought me to!") Aegnor yelled.

  Angrod turned, rolling his eyes, and faced his brother. His strong arms folding as Aegnor continued ("that's what happened the last time I relied on your 'esteemed sense of direction' frankly, I'd prefer being submerged in this lake and drowned to enduring another moment, lost in a scortching wilderness with you!") With that, he stormed past Angrod, their shoulders colliding with a resounding thump. 

("Why the urgency? What makes this trip so crucial to you?") Angrod inquired.

   Aegnor spun around swiftly. He regarded Angrod with a fiery gaze. "I made a promise!" he yelled, switching to the common tongue

  "I understand your attachment to them, truly,  I do, but they are only children, Aegnor. They will understand."

    Aegnor hurled his apple at him. It struck Angrod square in the centre of his chest, eliciting a soft thump. He let out a long, defeated sigh.  "Your aim could use some work," he retorted. Another apple was thrown hitting him straight between the eyes. "This is how you resolve our conflict!?" He protested

   "We are leaving...Now!" Aegnor bellowed departing swiftly.

   Angrod grumbled as he angrily collected his belongings at his feet, throwing them into his sack. "I deserve more respect than this. I have long endured this abuse from you!" Angrod stomped behind, his eyes caught Aegnor who had stopped, his gaze fixed upon the empty glade before him.. "My patience with you is but a thread thin!" Angrods eyes shifted to the open glade, where Aegnor was staring. His eyes squint. "The horses..." he said with a spark of realisation.

"They're gone." Aegnor added simply. Matching his candid tone.

  A moment of tense silence filled with Aegnors disgruntled sigh. Angrod flung his sack to the ground, his rage boiled over into a full-blown tantrum. Kicking at the sack and grunting, he grabbed rocks and hurled them away, grunting loudly into the air. Aegnor watched from behind. Finally, his frustration melted into a calm ease, and Angrod crouched low. Cradling his head in his hands. 

  "Now that was much better!" Aegnor praised. "His lips curled into an amused smirk. "I must say Angrod, I prefer this side of you much more! It is good to surrender to the release!" He grinned sardonically, "Let us find our steeds and be gone from here!" He stomped off to pick up their trail.

   Angrod finally rose from his pathetic ball of self-pity and followed behind. Under the scorching sun, the two brothers embarked on a search for their lost steeds. Aegnor skilfully traced their path, leading them to an open field situated half a mile away from the river.

   "They were here...grazing on these weeds..." Aegnor said as he crouched, examining the ground. He then straightened his legs and rose, his eyes following the ground. "Something frightened them, and they ran... in that direction!" Aegnor pointed towards the distance, trying to piece together the events. Angrod sat on a rock, shaking his head dismissively

   "It appears your tracking skills match my sense of direction," Angrod murmured. Aegnor glared at him, frustration still lingering.

   "I am not making fabrications!" Aegnor growled, his frustration rising.

   Angrod chuckled softly, "We have seen this same rock upon the first pass. We are walking in circles. The horses are lost, and so are we!"

   "If you desire to turn back, then go! I will go on alone! I need not your help!" Aegnor growled as he stormed away from his brother.

  "And just how shall I leave!?" Angrod cried after him. "As it stands...I am yet without a steed!"

  Aegnor ignored him.

   "Stop!" yelled Angrod. Aegnor reluctantly slowed his pace and stopped. He turned, and Angrod closed the distance between them.

  "We find the horses together, and we leave together. We are not separating. I need you to stay together. You are my brother,") Angrod spoke

   "Your brother..." Aegnor's resolve hardened. "I feel like your mule!"

    Angrod's fist collided with Aegnor's face, sending him crashing to the ground. Aegnor grunted loudly, his eyes flooded with surprise, and betrayal stared up at him.

  "Get up!" Angrod growled

   Meeting his brother's intense gaze, Aegnor slowly rose to his full height and stood eye-to-eye with him. The silence between them palpable, Angrod dared Aegnor to strike. After a seething pause, Aegnor released a tense, dismissive sigh and turned away, seemingly disengaging. Then, a sudden sweep, Aegnor whirled around and struck Angrod with even greater force than he had received. The powerful blow sent Angrod stumbling, landing hard on the ground with a painful yelp. Aegnor glared down at him, flicking the numbness from the impact in his wrist. Staring up as Aegnor, Angrods jaw tensed with rage.

   The melodic elvish language was laced with venomous accusation as he rounded on his brother. ("Alas, your skills in tracking have clearly deserted you! We shall never recover those errant horses, for your head has been lost amidst the clouds since our return from Ladros!")

   Aegnor's brow furrowed in defiance, and he refused to engage in the Elvish tongue. "What do you mean?" he growled, his tone laden with bristling ire.

"You know full well what I speak of!" Angrod snarled, his features twisted in a mask of fury.

  "You flit about, doing as you please, heedless of the world that burns around you. You neither it see nor care! You are selfish, and you are weak!"

    "How dare you say that to me!" Aegnor growled, his eyes flashing. "It is I who holds our ranks together in the accursed depths of Angband while you oft disappear to only Eru knows where, I endure the poisonous  fumes of that treacherous place, just as you do! Is it so grevious a thing to you, that I yearn to bring some measure of joy into the lives of these children whose loss is in this insufferable war has been immense!"

   "This is not just about the children, brother. This is about her!" he spat. "That girl, Andreth - she has been lodged within your thoughts since the day we first laid eyes upon her."

  "I do not know nor care for your sentiments! The nature of my personal feelings toward a certain maiden of Ladros are not your concern!" Aegnor yelled

"I care not for the 'nature of your feelings' Aegnor! They are worthless to me! I insist you put this mere passing fancy out of your head immediantly! I cannot run the risk of you losing focus now! I need yo—"

   But his words were abruptly cut short as an arrow came whistling through the air, grazing his cheek before embedding itself in the trunk of a nearby tree. Angrod cried out in surprise, falling to the ground in a graceless heap.

   "Angrod!" Aegnor exclaimed, his weapons drawn in a flash as he spun around, his keen senses heightened and alert.

   "I am unharmed," Angrod growled, his hand pressed against the shallow wound. "It merely grazed me."

   Aegnor's gaze was fixed upon the arrow, his brow furrowed in suspicion. "Orcs," he hissed, the word laced with a palpable dread.

   Aegnor helped Angrod to his feet and threw him a sword. Standing side by side, weapons at the ready they scanned every tree and every horizon. The cut on Angrod's face stung exceptionally. The sound of orc feet in black armour thumped louder as they came as one unit from under the bend on the hill. A small army of heavily armoured, snarling creatures of horror marched toward them. 

  "And here I thought this journey would be boring..." Aegnor commented.

  "How about a wager?" Angrod smiled ."I shall take two hundred on the left. You will take the two hundred on the right,"

  "I get only two hundred!?" Aegnor scoffed.

  "Don't be greedy, Aegnor!"

  "It's a wager!" Smiled Aegnor, raising his blade in readiness. Any sane man or beast would run from such a terrifying sight coming toward them, but not Aegnor and Angrod. Together, the brothers stomped toward the orcs, stoic determination chiselled onto their faces. 

    The elves, as if they were the same person, worked in perfect harmony as they sliced through the horde. Their unadulterated wrath came with each merciless, calculated blow. Like machines, they powered through with their blades as orcs fell one by one at an alarming speed. Like a graceful dancer, Aegnor swirled and leapt as he sliced the legs and heads of anything that stood in his way. He wore no armour, no helmet, no protection from the sea of oncoming blades, yet still, not even one was able to cause even a scratch to his skin.

    He skilfully disarmed and mutilated the creatures and left none who hadn't yet tasted his wrath. Angrod was equally skilled in the art of war as he flanked the orcs with his brother. One of the last orcs left to slay was one particularly large orc. He came plundering toward Aegnor. Covered in blood, Aegnor's mischievous grin taunted him onward and engaged with the elven prince. Despite the challenge posed by the orcs towering height, Aegnor gracefully leapt into the air, attempting to overcome the obstacle in front of him, his trusty knife came swiping down as he thrust it into his face. The orc dodged and grabbed Aegnor's hand. Causing Aegnor to dangle from the ground.

    In a taunting gesture, the orc ate and swallowed the knife Aegnor was holding. He instinctively let go, and he watched in horror as the hilt of his beloved knife slipped down the orc's throat. The giant creature laughed sinisterly. Savouring the distress in the elf before making his kill. As hope teetered on the edge of oblivion for Aegnor, Angrod fearlessly leapt onto the giant's hulking, scarred back, his shadow engulfing their struggle. With a swift and calculated move, Angrod coiled his arm around the orc's throat, his grip unyielding, and drove his sword deep into the creature's skull. A guttural cry escaped the orc's lips as it relinquished its hold on Aegnor, its feeble attempts to grasp Angrod proving futile. Collapsing to its knees, the monstrous foe slammed its torso, face-first, into the unforgiving earth, succumbing to death's undeniable grip.

   Angrod stood up, his chest heaving. He pulled the weapon from the orc's lifeless head and turned to face Aegnor, a genuine smile gracing his face. There was a tone of sincere affection in his voice as he extended his hand.

    Aegnor's lips curled into a soft smile, and he accepted Angrod's hand, allowing himself to be pulled to his feet. The two brothers locked eyes, a silent understanding passing between them.

  "It seems there are still some things I can teach you," Angrod said, his voice filled with pride.

    Aegnor's gaze turned momentarily despairing, and he nervously licked his lips before reaching out and pulling Angrod into a tight embrace. Amidst the chaos of the fallen orcs, the two brothers stood intertwined, reaffirming their unbreakable bond and re-establishing their unwavering trust.

  "We stay together, Aegnor. You are my brother," Angrod spoke affectionately into Aegnor's shoulder.

  "I'm sorry," Aegnor quivered.

Angrod's expression softened, and he gently squeezed Aegnor's shoulder.

"Come," Angrod said, "Let's find our horses and make our way out of this place."

  Aegnor's voice rose with urgency. "Wait!"

His gaze fell to Angrod's hand. "Give me your sword." He commanded, holding out his hands

Angrod handed his weapon

  "What are you doing?" Angrod asked, perplexed. Aegnor swiftly sliced through the orc's stomach, reaching inside to retrieve his lost weapon. Blood and sinewy coated his arm as he pulled out the knife, a triumphant grin on his face. Angrod's eyes everted in disgust.

  "Urgh, Aegnor! Was that truly necessary?" Aegnor's eyes gleamed as he turned to Angrod.

"He swallowed my blade... I want it back... Yes, it is completely necessary!" He replied, casually wiping the blade clean on the dead orcs leg.

    As they navigated through the grim scene of blood and corpses, a lone figure stumbled from the surrounding forest. His face contorted with rage as he spotted the two elves.

"Hey, you two!" he bellowed, his voice filled with anger.

    Turning to face him, they watched warily as he stumbled and waded through the strewn orcs. With his unsteady steps, he inadvertently stumbled into the stomach of a disembowelled orc. His foot pushed straight through the opening, into the orc's body causing him to wretch loudly, stumbling backwards, He tripped on a dismembered limb, causing him to curse and crash to the ground.

   Aegnor glanced at Angrod, who returned the incredulous look.

  "I know you!" he slurred, pointing a shaky finger at Aegnor. Covered in dirt and emitting a pungent odour, he continued, "It took weeks for me to track you down! Finally I have you!! I have you right where I want you!"

   "Do I know you?" Aegnor asked, squinting.

("He is the mortal man you bested in the knife competition at the wedding. Do you not remember Aegnor?") Angrod smirked, his lips bending into Aegnors ear.

  ("Did he follow my trail all the way out here?") Aegnor spoke in a hushed tone, his head bending close to Angrod's ("I am surprised that I did not perceive his presence drawing near.")

Angrod snickered softly in reply, whispering in his ear ("nor catch the smell from him upon the wind.")

  "Stop that! Stop whispering in a language I don't understand!" He barked. "I have come to settle the score with you once and for all!"

   With a feeble attempt at menace, he brandished a flimsy knife and ran at Aegnor, roaring loudly. Another severed limb tripped him, and he slammed into the ground again. His face landed directly in some upturned mud.

   Aegnor stood motionless, watching the pitiful Rolfe failing to rise to his feet amongst the mess of blood and mud. Angrod stepped forward, stopping just at Rolfe's head

  "You made a threat toward my brother, I can not let that go unanswered,"

  "Angrod!" Aegnor called. "Do no harm to him. His misery is enough,"

  Angrod turned back to him. "Consider now your every breath, a gift from me," Slowly, they turned away, leaving him alone to sob among the lifeless bodies of the fallen.

​​​​​​​

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Ladros

380 A.D

   The arrival of prosperous lords from afar to the great hall of Boromir drew all in a wave of excitement. With pomp and praise, they came, bearing gifts of silver and gold, jewels and arms, each with hope to win favour in the eyes of the fair Lady Andreth whose impressive presentation in their realms drew many hopeful suitors. Lady Anthel welcomed each with grace, sparing no expense to host a grand tournament and feast that lit the hall with merriment. By day, lords proved their mettle in joust and swordplay, vying for honour in sport. By eve, minstrels wove tales of love and valour to lift and enchant all hearts.

   Yet for Andreth, solace was found alone amid the emerald woods and windswept fells of Dorthonion. On her faithful stallion, she flew as fleet as thought. Her continuous absence and strong spirit left much frustration to her mother. Whose threats to keep her daughter under lock and key was a temptation becoming too great for her to resist. Her rides brought brief respite to tensions within, for lords greatly desired to tame such a heart.

   On one particular morning, Andreth rose very early, clad in a simple rough spun dark blue gown, well-worn, and faded. She resembled a lowly field girl a disguise she greatly favoured and slipped out of a side door in her fathers home. Her long hair draped over her body like a vail of black silk as she made her way to the stables, taking great care to keep her footsteps light and her presence swift.

    She slipped past the guards whose drowsiness could not be more evident in the light snores and heads resting upon the support of their erect spears. She descended the steps leading to the stables. Pushing the wide wooden door open, she quickly retrieved her horse and led it out of its stall. It neighed and snorted excitedly for its run, and Andreth quickly silenced it with a gentle shush.

   Just as she was about to mount, a shadow upon the floor startled her. A tall, handsome man stood in the entrance. His dark wispy hair fluttered in the light morning breeze, and his emerald eyes considered her with a twisted grin.

   "Dear lady, that abominable apparel does not befit a face as fetching as yours," he spoke, his lithe frame leaning against the stable door.

   "My beauty is mine to gift, not for you or any other to claim," she replied firmly. "I bid you take your leave, sir, for I am busy."

   "You think your coyness fools me, maiden? I've proven my strength and worth in the games - my valour has won your hand!" He stepped closer, eyes alight with envy's flame.

   "Others court me with honour, not entitlement. Be warned that patience and respect, not threats, will earn favour here," Andreth said, reigning in her ire.

   "Ha! What care I for respect when fine gold and jewels buy all?" He leered, stepping closer.

   Her anger rose, "I only need to scream and there will be an army of guards thrusting their lances into you before you draw your next and final breath!" She hissed venomously, "let me pass! Or do you wish to test me further?"

    He complied and quickly stepped aside. Her warning heeded, Andreth rode for pastures unseen, galloping fast over grassy plains where the the song of the trees echoed amid sun-dappled leaves. No cage, however gilded, could contain her flame. Hers was the right to love as she deemed fit and no pompous lord nor overbearing mother would make her feel otherwise.

   After a long ride, it earlg afternoon when she reached a vast and beautiful glade dotted with colourful flowers. This was her secret place, secluded from the world. As she went about picking a bouquet of flowers, she fashioned a gift in the hopes of easing Variels' growing anxiety. The gentle rustling of leaves and the sweet fragrance of blossoms filled the air. A serene smile played on her lips as she picked the finest, largest blooms, lost in her peaceful thoughts. Her attention suddenly drew to the distant sound of hooves approaching from the dense forest surrounding the glade.

   "How did they find me here!" She thought to herself, "another search party here to drag me back to the stufling games of waiting lords eager to make a little wife of me! Hah! We shall see who outsmarts who!"

    Andreth swiftly moved to conceal herself behind a towering oak tree, her heart pounding. Peeking through the foliage, she caught a glimpse of the group of horses galloping by, their forms a blur. They passed too quickly for her to discern their riders. Faint voices carried on the wind, teasing her ears, but their words remained unintelligible, though their laughter seemed hearty. She listened intently as they rode a distance away. The voices were certainly male, but they spoke in a tone that seemed different from her menfolk. It was angelic and melodious. Whoever they were, they did not seem in pursuit of her, much to her relief.

    With her heart still racing, Andreth quickly gathered her flower-laden bounty and mounted up. Urging her steed forward, she emerged from the forest's embrace, entering a vast open field that stretched before her. As Andreth carefully descended from the peak of a steep, grassy hill, the same rhythmic thud of hooves echoed behind her. Turning her gaze upward, she caught sight of the three majestic horses galloping along the hill's crest. Her excitement surged as she recognized one rider, bringing up the rear, his flowing mane unmistakable—it was Aegnor.

   "Aegnor!" She cried out with unhinged excitement, vigourously waving her arm.

   His keen ears heard his name upon the wind, and his eyes caught sight of her. With his attention diverted, a rebellious branch inflicted its justice upon him. The branch's crack sent shocks of pain through Aegnor. His arms flew to his injured face. Off-balance, he was flung from his saddle as his loyal grey mare galloped on, unaware of the calamity that had befallen her master.

    Andreth watched in horror. Grass and soil blurred around him as he rolled uncontrollably. Aegnor crashed to a stop at the bottom, limbs splayed.

Andreth felt her heart sink. She dismounted her horse and rushed to Aegnor's motionless form, his body sprawled on the grass. His eyes opened briefly to see her sleek form running toward him, only to quickly shut them again.

    Falling to her knees beside him, she placed a tender hand upon his body, but he was unresponsive. With a swift and graceful movement, she twisted away from him, her attention diverted to the contents of her satchel as her fingers delved into its depths.

    Aegnor's eyes squinted open. He watched her as she rummaged through her possessions, lifting his head. Finally, a small glass jar nested in her fingers as she pulled it out. Aegnor swiftly returned to his feigned unconscious state as her eyes fell upon him again.

    With nimble fingers, she deftly pulled the small cork lid, and it opened with a soft pop. She waved the jar under Aegnor's nose, and the pungent scent quickly exploded into his nostrils. He let out a loud, throaty cough and impulsively slapped her hand away, his face contorted with repulsion and mild annoyance.

    "What was that!?" he yelled, recoiling as he guarded his nostrils. She couldn't help but smile, mischief sparkling in her eyes.

    "Smelling salts!" she chirped, displaying the tiny jar to him. "Do you truly believe I had fallen fool to your pretence? To fall unconscious to a wayward branch, your head is thicker than that, Aegnor!"

    "Lady! I deserved no such penance for that innocent jest! That abomination you wafted beneath my nostrils deems more fit to repel balrogs from their fiery chasms!" He retorted.

    She bubbled into peals of playful giggles. The air seemed to flutter around them as her beautiful smile captured his in a warm glance. Turning her head, she glanced toward the top, and her eyes caught sight of two elven figures observing them from the peak. She could not distinguish their faces, only noting the difference in their hair colours—one with dark locks and the other golden, much like Aegnor's but only brighter.

    "Are those your companions up there?" she asked, waving to them in a plee of their aid.

    He lifted up, leaning back on his elbows. "That is my cousin, Fingon, son of the high king my uncle, the other is my elder brother," he answered.

   "Angrod?" she asked, smiling brightly. Aegnor rose to his feet with a single elegant motion.

   "Angrod is in Angband," He extended his hand to her and helped her to her feet, "that is my eldest brother, Finrod," he added. Andreth paused, her eyes widening,

    "Finrod? The Finrod Felagund!?" Her gaze darted back to the distant figures, who were now riding along the crest of the hill in search of a safe path to descend. "Aegnor...! you only told me you had met the great Finrod, not that you were his own brother!" She cried aloud

    "And I told no lie! We have indeed met Felagund... from the moment I was born," he replied calmly.

    "Aegnor!!"

   She yanked bush fulls of grass and hurled it at him, grunting loudly at him as the confetti of grass blades flickered around them. Aegnor gracefully dodged her every propellent, a look of confusion mixed with faint amusement.

    "Do you not know what a legend he is among my people!? His magnificence alone is unparalleled! I can not be seen by him in these tarnished old rags!" She clasped the skirt of her frock flapping it in stern annoyance, "this is your fault Aegnor! How dare you withhold this vital information from me!"

    His amusement growing more visable, Aegnor took in every detail of her worn out attire. Rough, hardy fabric riddled in small tears that had been remended.

   "Your gown bears no flaw that I can see, for those things which hold alot of memory are more beautiful to the Eldar than the most splendid of gems" he responded gently. His kind eyes regarded her and she blushed.

   Faint hooves upon grass drew them from the tender moment, Finrod Felagund was coming their way. The sun caught behind his head like a crown of light. Makinh his way acrossthe meadow toward them. Suddenly, Andreth lost her last nerve.

   "I must leave now!" She turned and made her abrupt leave. Aegnor grabbed her waiting wrist, insisting that she stay, "Let me go Aegnor! I beg you!!" She pleaded. This tug of war between them battled as Andreth pleaded with Aegnor to release her arm. Only for his grip to tighten with every tug. They were interrupted by the soft snort of a horse. Andreth stilled and immediately pivoted her dark head to behold Felagund, smiling down at her, his captivating grin lighting up his face.

    "Gentle maiden," he uttered, his voice akin to threads of delicate silk, "the grandeur you ascribe to me is nought but a figment woven by enraptured minds. Your grace in our midst is wholeheartedly embraced,"

   Stunned by his appearance before her, his beautiful smile put the sun's brightness to shame. "It is an honour...gracious lord," she stuttered, bowing her head with her eyes cast down to the ground.

   "What is your name, Lady?" he asked, his gaze filled with curiosity and kindness

"I am Andreth of Ladros," she answered, finally meeting his gaze. Her confidence is growing.

    "The daughter of Lord Boromir and Lady Anthel," he replied gently, curiosity sparking in his regal gaze,

    "I am lord! And a good friend of your brother, Aegnor. Please do not hold him accountable for this unfortunate misstep, for it was my impassioned cry that was the cause for his misfortunate fall, I hold the blame entirely," she answered weakly

   Finrod laughed loudly, his eyes dancing with glee. "Maiden, The skill and style my brother adopts while on horseback can only be compared to the likeness of a herd of charging bulls! Falling so ungracefully from the saddle was bound by natural consequence!" He laughed

    Aegnor scoffed, his playful gaze challenging Finrods, "Tis an impressive analogy of my character, Finrod. Just how long have you been awaiting the opportunity to bring it up?"

    Just as he was speaking, Fingon rode toward them, Aegnor's reins clutched in his strong hand. "It appears our damsel in distress has found himself a rescuer, Finrod!" Fingon teased. "I do not think we are needed!"

    Finrod chuckled light-heartedly. As Aegnor endured the light teasing, Andreth could not help but join in. "I would not anger him, lords, I have never known a damsel so quick with a blade," she chuckled

    Hearty laughter bursts from Finrod and Fingon, their melodic voices dancing in the air. Aegnor remained silent, enduring their light hearted jabs with a grumbling acceptance.

    "Your undisputed reputation for quick wit has just been thwarted, Aegnor!" Fingon jested

    He remained silent still, unable to summon a reply. He threw his hands up in a gesture of defeat, his voice melting into a light chuckle.

    "Do you partake in the art of hunting, Lady Andreth?" Finrod asked

    "I do not lord, though the desire to learn burns within me," she replied politely.

    "Then join us! Aegnor is the finest hunter among us, and I am certain he would be delighted to share his esteemed knowledge with you," Finrod suggested with a warm smile.

   Andreth glanced at Aegnor, finding a glint of light in his eyes as their gazes met. Her voice softened, and she delicately asked, "Will you teach me to hunt, Lord Aegnor?" Her soft smile added a touch of enchantment to her request.

    Aegnor stared at her for a lingering moment. Then, releasing a soft chuckle, his lips curled into an anticipating smile. Exhilaration flooded over her as she playfully bit her lower lip, a rush of excitement urging her to run and fetch her steed.

    Beside Fingon, Aegnor mounted his horse, settling into a comfortable position. As he did so, he noticed Fingon's gaze fixed directly upon him. A brief, silent moment of eye contact lingered between the elves, each trying to read the other's thoughts. Finally, Fingon broke the tension.

    "How did you come to know such an impressive maiden, Aegnor? She seems quite fond of you!" Fingon prodded, a flicker of suspicion lacing his rich, resonating voice. Aegnor paused before answering, his expression thoughtful.

   "Her heart is pure, and her feä, soft as morning snow. She is a cherished companion. You above all others can respect that, Fingon," Aegnor replied, unblinking. Finrod was listening intently.

    Shortly after, Andreth returned to them upon her steed with an excited grin stretching across her face. Charmed by her strong spirit, Finrod invited her to ride alongside him. Aegnor took the lead, guiding the way as the four of them ventured into the depths of the forest. Andreth felt elated riding alongside Finrod, her heart filled with exhilaration.

    Despite the challenging terrain filled with ditches and obstacles designed to test her riding skills, Andreth effortlessly overcame each one, proving herself worthy to ride with the elven lords. She kept pace with them, matching their speed and skill.

   As the party suddenly switched direction, Andreth found herself riding in pace with Aegnor, who led the way. He noticed her, her eyes fixed ahead, a wide, toothy grin adorning her face. Her hair flew furiously behind her, the sun catching the rich redness mingled within her ebony locks. At that moment, she appeared more beautiful to Aegnor than any creature he had ever laid his eyes upon.

     Eventually, Aegnor halted the party, and they slowed to a stop. He dismounted and carefully examined the ground. His keen eyes spotted the tracks of a young and strong stag, and he noticed scratches on a nearby tree, measuring their depth to determine the stag's size. After gathering his findings, he mounted his horse once more and shared the information with the group, preparing them for the hunt to come.

    "A prize like that would indeed be a trophy worth taking," Fingon spoke to the group, his voice filled with anticipation.

    "But if there truly is such a stag, we should exercise caution," Andreth chimed in, her voice laced with wisdom. "We may not be the only ones hunting it."

    "Andreth is right." Aegnor nodded, "Our best chance is to flank it, cutting off any potential escape routes and spreading open our line of sight."

    They continued to follow Aegnor's lead until the magnificent creature finally came into view. Its antlers were thick and strong, sitting atop its head like a crown of glory. The stag's coat was rich and dark, exuding a regal aura. It moved through the trees with a majestic grace, appearing almost like a spirit of the forest.

   Andreth couldn't help but gasp at its breath-taking beauty, for she had never seen such a creature before. It was a moment she knew she would cherish forever. Suddenly, with a burst of speed, the stag ran and swiftly disappeared into the depths of the woods, its white tail flicking furiously behind it. Finrod turned to Andreth, a glimmer of opportunity in his eyes.

   "This may be your chance, fair Andreth. Go with Aegnor, while Fingon and I take a different route. Aegnor will know when to advance."

   With those words, they separated each head in a different direction. Andreth joined Aegnor as they embarked on their pursuit of the majestic stag. The trail led them to a nearby bank, and they crossed it together. However, just as Andreth was halfway across, her horse suddenly became startled, whinnying loudly in distress.

   Aegnor, hearing the commotion, swiftly pivoted around to see Andreth desperately trying to calm her agitated steed. Concern filled his voice as he called out to her. But before he could reach her, the horse reared up and forcefully threw her off, causing her to land with a hard splash into the water. Meanwhile, her horse galloped away, leaving her behind.

    Aegnor swiftly dismounted and ran to Andreth's aid as she moaned in pain from the blow.

    "Are you hurt?" he asked, his eyes filled with concern.

    "My leg!" she squeaked.

    She jerked back the skirt of her long wet dress, lifting it high, above her leg. A large, painful slice had cut along the tender flesh of her thigh. Thick red trickles stroked down the soft, smooth curves. Aegnor tensed as he saw the severity of her wound. He called his grey mare over, and she came immediately to his side, standing over them protectively while he rummaged through his possessions.

     Andreth did all she could to stifle her crying as the tears threatened to spill out. The pain and shock were proving to be a test for her. Finally, Aegnor had grasped what he was seeking and knelt beside her again. His black boots imbedded ankle deep in the stream. Their elven made quality protecting his feet from the streams icy kiss.

    Cold, wet, and shivering, she allowed Aegnor to tightly wrap her sleek thigh in a cloth of fine elven silk. Her eyes shifted to his face while he worked. She soaked in his every feature. The stray locks of golden, curled hair wisping around over his eyes, the way his eyes blinked rhythmically as the subtle, unconsciousness nibbling on his plump lip as he focused on her wound intently. She was once again overcome by his heavenly beauty.

    "It will hold, but not for long, now come, put your arm about my neck," he spoke, his voice severing the moment.

    Pulling her arm around him, he clasped her waist and gently lifted her to her feet. She moaned in pain, her body protesting. Her teeth chittered as her clothes soaked up the icy stream. With grace and tenderness, he lifted her effortlessly upon his mare as if she were made of fine glass.

    She groaned as she battled to keep herself from crying as she slowly dragged her body upon the saddle. Settling in a side saddle, she released a soft moan as she gave him a tearful smile. A gaze lingered between them, silent yet filled with words. Aegnor stilled completely, his eyes fixed upon her, and she graciously wiped a tear away. Aegnor then raised himself up, swinging his long, shapely leg over the mare's neck, settling in front of her.

   "Let's find a place that's quiet. Put you arms around me," his buttery voice echoed smoothly.

   A silent moment of hesitation followed. The soothing song of the forest birds and gentle river trickled delicately that amplified the silence as slowly, her hands slid around the sleek straight surface of his narrow waist, her hands meeting effortlessly at the front. Through the toughened material of his padded tunic, a strong, solid stomach of the elf welcomed her embrace. She released a stifled trembling breath as she clung to him.

   "Oh, Aegnor," she relented softly. "My clumsiness has dashed your hopes of claiming your magnificent stag. Now, a duty of care has been thrust upon you," she laughed sadly. Aegnor inclined his head solemnly.

   "I am thankful for your clumsiness," he smiled softly. "It has granted me the opportunity to spend a moment alone with you," his gaze caught hers in that moment. Andreth tensed and broke away, her eyes dropping to the floor as her supple cheeks flushed a deep crimson red. "We shall meet up with my kin at our designated rendezvous place, after I have properly treated your wound." His slight, teasing smirk caused her to fluster and she blushed even more. Utterly undone by his intense focus on her. 

    With that, a soft smack of his lips urged his mare onward into a slow walk. Her steps were so gentle that it did not cause Andreth any further discomfort. Content by his side, Andreth allowed herself to be taken away, disappearing into the thick woodland with him amidst the shifting shadows of the dancing leaves. The slow ride through the spacious flat woodlands where leaves rustled beneath the steady, rhythmic clops of soft hooves brought Andreth back in time to a moment just like this.

    In an attempt to bring Andreth to a safe spot on higher ground, Aegnor walked along a path that ascended a mountain side. Loose, soft dirt crumbled like soft clay beneath the horse's hooves, but Aegnor handled its challenging terrain with undisputed ease. Hidden from danger, Aegnor, attune to the huffs and silent groans from Andreth, sought to distract her from her pain.

   "Tell me, what is life like for you at home, among your family," his voice lifted her from her troubled thoughts.

   "My days are spent caring for the children orphaned by war. As a noble lady of the house, it is my duty to take on the burden of motherhood to the motherless. It has come to be my greatest love,"

    "There is no doubt in your ability to care for them well. How are they, the children? I arrived in Ladros upon a time to find your entire house gone." He replied

   "It must have been at the time of my presentation to the lords. It is a custom among my kind. When the eldest daughter of a chieftain clan comes of age, she is paraded from land to land to let it be known that she is eligible to be wed."

   "What a positively ghastly experience," Aegnor shuddered

   "And it is!" She cried "being paraded around from kingdom to kingdom, all draped in flowers and bows! Come and buy your prized cow!" She grumbled. Aegnor smooth voice melted into buttery laughter.

    "Now, they come in their hordes, eligable lords competing to claim my hand! It is embarrassing to witness!" A comfortable pause followed before she added, "I escape when I can and oft take long rides. That is why I was in the meadow, picking wildflowers, drawing out the days for as long as I can. Yet, the guards always seem to find me, and drag me back to that pretentious, insufferable lot!"

    "Ah, is that what you were doing when we encountered you! Hiding?!" He laughed.

    "No!... yes..." she sighed concedingly, "I did not discern it was you riding through the trees. I am truly grateful to be in your company once again Aegnor,"

   Aegnor said nothing. The silence between them heavy, yet comfortable. Unwilling to let the moment pass, Andreth seized the opportunity to learn more about her special friend in friendly conversation.

    "You must travel these lands often. The road between Dorthonion and Angband are perilous! Even more so now with the rising threat of darkness ever growing." she picked up once again. 

   "Angrod and I have spent many years traveling this land together, lady. On one such night, as a tempestuous storm siezed overhead, we were drenched from its fury and saught shelter beneath a large tree atop a vast cliff," he smiled as he told her the story, fond memories creeping back into his mind.

    "Stranded there until the storm passed, we depleted our wine supply and drank to our hearts desire until we surrendered to total unconsciousness. I awoke soon after to find myself staring into the maws of a famished pack of wolves, eager to taste my flesh," 

   "Goodness!" She gasped sharply, her tone laced with concern, "And you escaped unscathed?!" 

   "I seized my brothers still form and threw his body over the edge, jumping myself. We plunged into the river below and were swept by its tide for leagues, when we at last found purchase on the opposite bank and Angrod had only one pressing question for me."

    "What did he say?" She asked, her smile creeping.

    "Nai quessë na?" he smirked.

    "What does that mean?"

    'Where is the wine?' 

   She laughed, her mirth releasing into the wind. "I am surprised at you, Aegnor!" She chirped  "I did not perceive this taste for the alcoholic draught in you. I thought elves were restrained in all things, do you drink often?" She asked, her bright curiousity now fully sparked.

    There was a long pause, too long to be considered comfortable. Finally his reply came rather quiet and with a feigned calm. "Only when the circumstances permit me Andreth... though, they are few and sparing. The horrors of war are oft a costly tax upon the mind... I drink to forget many things,"

   Another lingering pause followed, pregnant with weight. 

    "I understand, it cannot be an easy task forever fighting the haunting shadows of Angband and whatever horrors lie beneath the foul stench of its hidden chasms. One could be forgiven for indulging in such fleeting pleasures on occasion," Andreth replied gently and with understanding. ["I never perceived elves to be so reckless... always they are so fair and rigid, he is unlike any elf I have known!"] Her thoughts rang in her head as she clung to his back. His solid frame, an anchor for her. ["What other secrets does he hide beneath?"]

   Her wandering thoughts returned as she felt the horse they were seated upon come to a measured halt upon a narrow ridge, that seemed to get even narrower. The searing pain in her leg returned, reminding her of her vulnerable predicament. As Aegnor assessed to road forward, Andreth drew a quivering breath, her lips trembling.

"Aegnor... may I ask you a personal question?" She breathed

   Her words drew his attention and he swiveled around, his head twisting over his shoulder as his stern, but curious eyes regarded her scrupulously. He awaited her question

   "Is there... someone who waits for you in Valinor? Perhaps someone you left behind before you embarked on your journey to this land?" She asked, her nerves palpable. The long drawn silence between them could have deafened the very clouds.

   "Someone?" He asked slowly, unsure of her question

   "It is said that Finrod Felugund had left behind an elf maiden more beautiful than starlight. A beloved betrothed who waits for his return," She replied quietly, her dark eyes finally meeting his. "Is there also someone... a maiden... who waits for-"

The sudden jerks of Aegnor's panic stricken mare stopped Andreth mid sentance. Aegnor immediately worked to sooth his war horse yet not even the buttery coos of Aegnor's elvish voice could sooth her. Andreths grip around him tightened. The mare reared onto her hind legs as loud snorts and whines burst from her long, muscular throat. Desperate to gain some measure of control of his beast on a tight ledge upon a cliff face, Aegnor grabbed its studded head gear. Just then, rocks crumbled beneath her hooves, taking the rear end of the animal with it.

    Their bodies pummelled into rocks and broken sticks as they tumbled down the steep mountainside. The thunderous thudding as the body of Aegnor's mare came crashing ominously behind, narrowly missing them. They became separated in the chaos. Each fell uncontrollably in different directions. The fading of Andreths loud screams echoed in his ears as Aegnor tumbled furiously, leaves and roots upturned and hurled around him as he collided with branches. His body finally came to a sudden crashing halt against an unyielding tree. After a moment of ominous silence, he finally stirred.

"Mmmh," he moaned softly as intense pain gripped his body. "Ooh," he quivered, slowly rising up.

His hair was tangled with leaves, dirt, and twigs. A cut above his eyebrow trickled a flow of red blood from his brow. He opened his eyes. His vision was a blur as he looked around frantically. His bright, messy hair flicked wildly around his body.

"Andreth?" Aegnor wheezed.

The wind hissing in the tall trees was his only answer. Panting, he rose to his feet. He cradled his abdomen as the impact of the fall seized him, as though his body had been pummelled by a thousand hammers all at once. His expression twisted with an agonising grimace.

He called out her name, louder. Still, there was no reply. Panic gripped his heart. He leapt into a sprint, dashing through the thick woods, ignoring the protests of his battered body to stop.

Aegnor dashed through the trees aimlessly. His lips mumbling in frantic whispers as he prayed, beseeching the Valar to guide his footsteps toward her. As the frantic search for her drew on. He cried out to her one last time. As loud as his lungs would allow. His powerful voice bellowed into the surrounding trees, rattling the air. Still silence followed like a ghost's haunting song. Yet again, there was no reply. Distraught, he slumped ungracefully against a tree. His long, strong legs unfurling in front of him. He sought a moments rest for his wounds.

   Groaning softly, his jaw clenching as his body punished him. He panted heavily through the pain and the devastating reality that she was lost to him. The silence seemed more deafening to him now than ever before. Slowly, he rose again, wincing loudly.

In a crestfallen daze, Aegnor glided through the trees of the silent and lonely forest, his heart sunk deep with sorrow.

    He knew not where he was, nor did he care. With each step, a painful reminder of the void that her absence had left in him. As he was walking, two strange men suddenly appeared from the distance in front of him. Aegnor had been so distracted by his thoughts that he had not paid them any notice until this moment.

"You there!" one man yelled.

Aegnor abruptly halted, his gaze fixated on the men standing before him. Agitation etched dark lines on his fair face, while his narrowed eyes betrayed a mix of confusion and suspicion. The man's words hung in the air, waiting for a response.

"You the one making those noises? We came to see if you were hurt," one of them inquired. Aegnor remained silent, "Would you like some water?" The other continued, holding out a waterskin to him. Aegnor did not even glance at the offering but kept his stern eyes upon them and his hand firmly on his sheathed blade. His foot placed behind the other in a defensive pose.

"Come on, elf, take a drink, we dun mean no harm," he continued, taking a step closer. Aegnor tensed immediately, his hands gripping tightly around the handle of his weapon.

"We can see you do not wish to be troubled. Is there anything we can assist with?" The scruffy man asked. His companion nodded agreeingly.

"Step out of the shadows!" Aegnor ordered. They obeyed his command and stepped closer into the ray of light filtering through the trees. "I have seen your faces before!" Aegnor yelled, his deep voice bellowing with authority. Suddenly, the flickering of metal erupted from their sides as the men withdrew their weapons and launched at him.

    Aegnor held back until the very last moment. He swiftly drew his blade, and with a devastating, precise strike, he decapitated both of them. Devoid of a head, their bodies fell like a sack of hay before him. One severed head, he vented his anger at with a forceful kick from his boot. Launching it high into the air.

   He stilled immediately, his eyes wide with seething rage and high alert as ominous sounded a mocking, sinister tune surrounded him. With an elegant swivel of his sharp blade, he flipped his weapon in a reverse grip, raising it level with his eyes. His body tensing like a coiled viper. Ready to strike.

   Finally, three large, burly men slowly emerged from the trees and surrounded the elf. Aegnor stood in the centre of them, his eyes focused and his gaze calm and terrifying. The whistling eventually stopped, and a terrifying silence followed.     A fourth man soon stepped out from the gloomy lurk of the dense trees. One who held in front of him a gift for the elf. Once Aegnor saw it, his eyes grew wide, and he lowered his knife.

"No..," He whispered.

Aegnor's eyes widened, his face marred by horror as Andreth was forcibly brought before him, covered in scratches and cuts from her fall. Her delicate figure was held in a vice-tight grip, a large, dirty hand wrapped ominously around her throat. Behind her stood the tall, imposing man, his sinewy frame pressed tightly against her back, a wild glint in his eyes and sweat rolling down his furrowed brow. His malevolent gaze pierced through Aegnor, his unkempt sandy red hair falling haphazardly over his dark, sinister eyes. He had returned, a figure that personified everything Aegnor abhorred in the world.

"You!" Aegnor growled.

His contempt boiling over, he made no effort to hide his disgust for them. Shielding his nose while the stench of these fowl beings assaulted his nostrils.

   The smell of sweat, stale urine, and shame. A surge of unyielding rage coursed through him as he witnessed Hagrath, his fowl, dirty hands upon Andreth. He glared at Hagrath, his face twisted into the manifestation of sheer fury.

"The knife!" Hagrath barked, his eyes wide and crazed, his venomous voice dripping with malice.

   Aegnor's chest rose and fell in heavy, laboured breaths as his piercing gaze remained fixed upon the object of his seething rage. His steps grew restless, pacing back and forth in a frenzied display of agitation.

"I have not met a single soul who has dared cross the line," he snarled fiercely, his lip curling in wrath. "But you... you have lost your mind!" Aegnor snarled

"Hand it over! Or I snap her neck!" Hagrath snarled, his words a venomous threat.

With a loud sigh of rage, Aegnor hurled his precious knife, blade down into the ground, the blade embedding itself vertically in the soil.

"Now, I will kill you!" Aegnor hissed. His low guttural growl laced with venom.

"Take them all, I want everything he's got!" Hagrath yelled to his men. None stepped forward for Aegnor's imposing size, and confidence greatly intimidated them. Andreth's tearful eyes locked with Aegnor's. With only an incline of his head, he asked Andreth if she was alright. His message was met with a brisk nod and a tear falling from her eye.

"Baryn!" Called Hagrath, turning to a much younger man in his gang."Search his body for more, take all his weapons! Move it!" Hagrath barked.

   The dirty, dark-haired man stiffened and released a tense sigh before slowly approaching Aegnor. The look in Aegnor's eyes as he came held the furious glare of a thousand demons waiting to pounce upon their pray. The young man trembled violently, trying not to show his fear.

  Feigning confidence, he reached out a shaking hand toward Aegnor's lower body in an attempt to unclasp the sword belt that wrapped around his hips. Aegnor stilled as he approached. His outstretched hand came within mere inches of his body. When suddenly, Aegnor animated with ignited fury, the side of his fist collided forcefully with the man's face. The sudden bone breaking strike sent the man hurling to the ground with a sharp guttural howl of agony and surprise.

"Woooo! He's got FIRE! " Hagrath squealed with intense excitement, relishing in the sight of Aegnor's aggression. "Think before you act elf! Is your pride really worth more than the precious life of this beautiful girl?" Hagrath screeched, gesturing to Andreth as his grip tightened around her neck.

    She shook her head, her tearful eyes wide with alarm. She pleaded with Aegnor not to comply with Hagrath's demands, for he was known for his tricks. Aegnor, however, was out of options.

He began slowly unbuckling his studded belt that held another sword. He unclasped the weaponry, adorning his formidable figure. The metal studs on his sword belt and upper harness shimmered in the dim light, concealing twin blades and compartments filled with throwing knives. The tense atmosphere was punctuated by the resounding clank of metal hitting the ground as Aegnor discarded his arsenal, one weapon after another until they lay in a pile around his feet

   The men watched with a mix of anticipation and unease, their eyes locked on Aegnor's every move. Nervously, Baryn approached, his hands trembling as he cautiously gathered the discarded items strewn about Aegnor's feet.

   With every movement he made, he made an effort to keep a cautious distance, unwilling to get too close. As Baryn reached for the last blade, his fingers hovering mere inches over it, Aegnor's boot swung out, kicking the weapon further away. The act jolted Baryn into a moment of unexpressed panic. His heart thundering like a loud drum in his chest Aegnor's actions seemed to taunt him, daring him to come closer.

   With a steely glare, Aegnor stared at the shaking man as he slithered across the elf's leg, reaching for the blade that he had kicked away. Just as his fingers curled loosely around the discarded blade, Aegnor's foot slammed firmly on it, trapping his fingers beneath it.

The weight of his glare crushed upon the terrified man, the unspoken and unwanted challenge hanging ominously in the air, filled with tension and uncertainty. Then, after a lingering tense pause, too long for comfort, Aegnor lifted his foot, releasing the blade from his hold. Baryn wasted no time, picking up the blade as he darted back into formation, sweating profusely.

"Now here is a riddle. Why would such a skilled fighter need so many blades?" Hagrath jeered

Aegnor's response dripped with disdain as he scoffed softly, almost offended by the question. "You think I need them!?"

  He took a deliberate step forward, causing Hagrath to instinctively retreat, tightening his hold on Andreth's throat, his mocking grin dropping into a tense scowl. The air grew heavy. Aegnor's imposing presence loomed, his piercing gaze daring anyone to challenge him.

"I found her lying in the dirt, all alone. It took everything I had to resist that beautiful, soft body just to see the look on your face," He jeered

"Just let her go!" Aegnor replied, unwilling to entertain this degrading conversation any further.

"Nah, you see, now we got a problem, I'm missing some people, my two brothers, or at least they were my brothers until you took their heads! But her...she's worth thirty men! What kind of fool would I be to throw away a moment of sheer pleasure with that!" He hissed

"She's wounded! She's bleeding! She requires urgent medical attention!" Aegnor yelled

"Is she now!? Just what have you two be doin' uh?" He hissed, his hot, moist breath melding into her crawling skin.

"Snake!" She roared, her rage seething.

"Do you truly believe I am incapable of vanquishing every last one of you!?" Aegnor directed to the men surrounding him. His voice resonated with raw power, his open arms beckoning them forward. "I invite anyone to strike the first blow!"

Silence engulfed them as the group hesitated, their resolve faltering in the face of Aegnor's unwavering confidence. None among them dared to make a move.

"You have not an idea of the things I am capable of!" If you wish to run, then do so, But you..!" He pointed at Hagrath, his fiery glare locked with his. "Death is a mercy I will not grant you!"

   A sinister grin etched its way across his face. Hagrath, his eyes locked on Aegnor, bent his neck and slid his tongue along the graceful curve of Andreth's delicate, ivory neck, eliciting a piercing scream of revulsion and disgust from her. At that moment, Aegnor's composer shattered.

   A hidden blade sprung out from a contraption in his bracers. He launched himself at Hagrath. A quick footed assailant swung the heavy hilt of his sword straight into Aegnor's head with merciless force. The blow knocked the elf hard to the ground in one fell swoop, the world blurred into darkness as Aegnor surrendered to unconsciousness, his final act of defiance thwarted.

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Valinor

The year of the trees

Small, gentle fingers entwined with the heads of the golden wheat stems. The warm, hazey light of Laurelin bathed the meadow in breathless hues of light. An elf glided through the meadow of gold. His long hair flowed freely, matching the gentle sway in colour and in movement. A golden circlet crowned his brow, a symbol of his upheld status. A royal Prince, youthful innocence shrouded his every step. A tender age of adolescence, yet his silver grey eyes held a memory of ageless wisdom and unadulterated grace. Alone, free and utterly unencumbered.

     His face was serene, yet upon his young lips, a sly and victorious smile stuck as his mind wondered on his escape from the stifling palace confines. Always the guards would find him and drag him back, and fortify the walls even more. Yet still he always found another way, for his spirit was uncontainable and fierce. As his thoughts dwelled on his victory a sudden name upon the wind caught his sharp ear, his own name in a familiar voice.

    "Akanarö!" 

     Aegnor drew immediate attention to the voice as he saw its owner race toward him. Another young elf, only a little older than he, raced through the golden sheaths toward the young prince, followed by three other male companions, all running and waving excitedly. 

   Aegnor immediately tensed and hastily smoothed his long golden hair and clothing. With a swift motion, he plucked the ornament from his head and hurriedly tossed it into the sheaths, hiding it from their view. 

   ("I had thought the watchful eyes of the King's guard would have quelled your timely escape into our throng, young Prince. Well done!") the leader of the group remarked as he slowed to a halt before him, followed by the rest. Aegnor drew in and with his lungs filled with breath, he replied with an air of feigned confidence.

   ("I am no mere young prince Onmerïo, am I? I thought our many episodes together had proven that by now,") 

  Onmarïo's melodic laughter rang out. His hands resting confidently on his narrow hips. His long, dark braid swaying with every movement of his head. ("It seems I was wrong to doubt you. Yet we are not done with you yet, there is but one more honor, a test of loyalty, and you must pass if you wish to be counted as one of us,")

  Aegnor's heart swelled with unbridled excitement, his wide smile, a beacon of uncontainable delight. He met their challenge with unfathomable resolve 

   ("Show me!") He ordered them.

  ("Come,") Onmarïo called. 

   Turning on his heels he disappeared into the verdant embrace of the forest. The youthful company swiftly followed their undisputed leader. Their fleeting forms a blur of grace and speed. Aegnor launched into sprint and swiftly caught up, bringing up the rear. They scattered to lose him, another test of vigour. Yet Aegnor out paced them all. For his strength and stamina was undisputed as a champion of athletic pursuit and always he pushed his body beyond its physical capabilities. Such was his gift.

   They ran deep into the woods where even light was challenged by the thick branches and leaves. Panting, they soon stopped before a large pit in the forest ground. Deep, dark, and lined with bones of animals unfortunate enough to fall in.

  The youthful band of Elven companions gathered at the precipice, their keen eyes drinking in the ominous depths of the shadowed pit before them. Yet Aegnor, scion of the noble House of Finarfin, stood apart from the group, his gaze scanning the sombre forest around them with a growing unease.

  ("A chasm of eternal gloom, where the spawn of Ungoliant herself come to dwell,") Onmariö whispered, his voice tinged with awe ("A disturbance has roused dark creatures from their slumber.")

   ("We should depart this place,") Aegnor urged, his calm tones belying the anxiety that stirred within him. ("Something fell lurks nearby, I sense its watchful gaze upon us.")

  Laughter erupted from the group, drawing Aegnor's attention. ("Lo! He is afraid!") Onmariö cried out in mockery, his lips curling into a sinister smile. ("Perhaps we have pushed him too far from the sheltered walls.")

   ("There is no true valour without first facing one's fears,") Aegnor replied evenly, his words imbued with a wisdom that belied his tender years. ("As my noble sire Finarfin, son of Finwë the High King, is wont to say.")

   Onmariö's gaze narrowed, a calculating light in his eyes. ("Ah yes, your exalted father, who would surely not approve of you consorting with the likes of us.") He stepped aside, gesturing grandly. ("Yet who am I to deny the scion of a great house his chance to prove his mettle? Come, noble prince, and take your place among us.")

  With a steadying breath, Aegnor stepped forward, joining the others at the precipice. Leaning cautiously over the void, the foul stench from the darkness below assailed his senses, causing his trembling breath to flutter into the ominous chasm.

   Unbeknownst to Aegnor, one of the youths had slipped behind him, drawing forth a small but keen blade from the folds of his tunic. Swiftly, he grasped a large swath of Aegnor's glorious golden hair and, with a decisive stroke, severed it from his head. The blade nicked the delicate tip of Aegnor's ear and scored his cheek, drawing pinpricks of scarlet.

  Aegnor whirled around, his eyes wide with alarm, to behold the chunk of shorn hair held aloft by his tormentor. ("Did you truly believe you were worthy of our company?") the youth sneered, dropping the severed locks and grinding them into the dirt with his foot. ("How did you not perceive this trap? You do not belong among us, princeling!")

   Aegnor's gaze ignited with a furious light, his fair features twisting with righteous wrath. His hand tightened into a fist as their sadistic laughs echoed around him like ringing bells. Suddenly, he launched himself at the offender, raining blows upon him. But Onmariö swiftly intervened, wrenching Aegnor off his companion and delivering his own savage punishments upon the young prince.

   Aegnor fought with all his might but was utterly overwhelmed by the relentless assault. When one of the youths seized his leg and began to twist, a piercing scream of agony was torn from Aegnor's lips. The searing pain shot through his body, and he begged them to cease.

  Onmariö, his cruelty satiated, ordered the others to ("cast the pathetic wretch where none may find him.") Gathering the battered and broken Aegnor, they hurled him into the dark, yawning abyss of the pit below.

  Aegnor tumbled down, his clothes and hair now fouled with mud and grime. As he rose unsteadily to his feet, he looked up to the faces of his former companions, now devoid of any trace of affection. Raining down stones upon him, they mocked and jeered at his pitiful state.

  ("Behold! The filthy vermin, look at his clothes!") One jeered, his words laced with sinister mirth.

  ("And his pitiful tears!") Another laughed, relishing the sight, ("Aid me! For I am not but a pitiful wretch, yearning for the embrace of a guard to shield me from my own worthlessness!")

  But the cruel onslaught was abruptly halted by a deafening roar that reverberated through the shadowed depths. Aegnor's wide eyes beheld a horrifying creature slinking forth from the cave's maw, its hungry maw agape. The youths scattered in terror, abandoning Aegnor to his grim fate.

  Trembling, Aegnor braced himself to face the looming menace. In a savage lunge, the creature seized his leg and dragged him into the darkness. Aegnor's screams echoed through the abyss, his cries for aid falling on deaf ears.

  Pieces of sharp bone scratched and tore at his delicate skin as the darkness consumed him. Finally, he felt the sharp pinscher hold on his leg release, and he came to an abrupt stop. Not even his keen eyes could see what stood before him. His hearing was the only weapon he had. Menacing growls and coupled with a strange buzzing echoed in front of him. He was unable to determine the exact position of this horrid monster. One wrong move would cost him his life. He also heard the same buzzing, only of a higher frequency all around him. To his horror, he realised that he stood in the centre of this creatures nest.

   There was a sudden slight knock against his foot. A broken bone, a grim remnant of a former meal, its end sharp and pointed. He picked it up. Without hesitation, Aegnor plunged the makeshift weapon into the body of one of the creatures young. A piercing hiss of agony shrieked from the wounded larva. The parent came rushing to protect it. Seizing this fleeting distraction, Aegnor frantically crawled away. He headed toward a stream of light. A tunnel that leads to the outside. It grew narrower, pressing against him, but he pushed forward, relentlessly pursuing the slender ray of light that beckoned him.

   Finally, he reached the stony seal at the tunnel's end, and with a surge of relief, he pushed it open, emerging into the cool embrace of fresh air and the softness of grass beneath him. Covered in a shroud of dirt and wounds, he clutched the severed chunk of unsightly hair, his tears mingling with the dirt upon his face, the young prince fled the accursed scene.

○○○

Middle-Earth

Dorthonion

369 A.D

    He hated the silence. For in silence, the haunting memories would curse his every tortured thought. Alone in his chambers, Aegnor tried to find sleep, but sleep could not find him. His ten year long term in Angband had murdered his spirit and the terrifying howls growing louder, echoed like sparks of thunder in his mind. Splayed upon his bed, clad in only dark blue leggings clung tight around his narrow hips,  the cool moonlight caressed his bare chest, casting a warm, enchanting glow that heightened every contour of his silky elven skin. Every contour, every curve of his muscular chest, every battle scar showed an elf well versed in war and suffering, yet a mind made of fragile glas, waiting to shatter at the slightest touch. He messaged his brow, as if nursing a century long headache. 
 

    He tried to forget her face. How she tormented his mind. The beautiful woman who left him with not a word, nor a reason why she knew his name yet, he did not know hers. She was unnerving yet so familiar. Her eyes burned their mark into his mind, her voice... like a sirens song. A nymph of the forest and he was completely spellbound. 

  Strands of golden hair, unbound and cascading. The scar in his left shoulder, a token of his encounter with the child he saved, served as a reminder of his indebtedness to a young girl and his unwavering resolve to see her again... someday, yet that day seemed far beyond his grasp for now.

   Seeking some form of comfort, Aegnor picked up his cherished possession and held it up in front of his face. He admired its unrivalled beauty, seeking solace from his tumultuous thoughts. A blade of refined moonstone handle intertwined with veins of silver and gold, a testament to elven opulence and power. The blade, double-edged and honed to perfection, bore intricate elvish craftsmanship. Truly, it was a thing of exquisite artistry. As his gaze caressed its form, he beg held his reflection in cold, polished body. A face of utter unrivalled beauty and strength, yet to Aegnor, all he saw was a monster, punished to be alone for all of time. A heavy sigh escaped him. Shrouded in longing and desire.
 

    He rose with a commanding presence, his lithe frame unfolding as his long legs gracefully touched the floor. With a swift, purposeful motion, he plunged the knife blade into the solid wooden table, the resounding thud echoing through the room, a testament to his strength and resolve drawing his gaze to the chalice of wine. With a single, uninterrupted motion, he brought the chalice to his lips, and with one long brazen swig, he claimed its contents. The rich, velvety liquid cascaded down his throat. Intoxicating him with its sensual taste and the sense of pleasure that followed after. The raw seduction he exuded with every movement, a quality that forever escaped his notice, penetrated from his core.

  As he stared down the empty chalice, his gaze hardened, his jaw clenched with a brooding intensity. A weighty, foreboding sensation settled upon him, a storm brewing in his soul. Refusing to succumb to the familiar, unwelcome thoughts that threatened to consume him, he reached for his trusty knife, its gleaming blade catching the light with a wicked glint. In a swift and decisive motion, he plucked the blade from the table and swiftly rose to leave.

  In a full attire of black studded attire, he mounted his powerful steed. He found solace in the beat of hooves beneath him, the wind whipping through his hair, and the freedom of the open woods. The night blurred around him as he embraced the raw power between his muscular thighs, the pounding of hooves in tune with the relentless beat of his heart. Relishing in his masculinity, the core of his very essence radiated like an unyielding flame.

   In the saddle, he found release from the encroaching emotions, the turmoil dissipating with every stride. For in the thrill of the ride, he rediscovered his true self, a warrior unchained. With each passing mile, the weight upon his shoulders lightened, replaced by a sense of unyielding purpose and unbreakable spirit. He was a spectre of untamed strength and resilience as he cut through the trees. Alone and free, the darkness of the night was his sanctuary.

   In the moonlight's embrace, he came to a stop atop a cliff. He stood, commanding and alluring. Gazing upon his dark kingdom from the cliff's edge, his eyes held a magnetic allure. The wind whispered through his hair, carrying the scent of earth and wildflowers. In the moonlit stillness, a piercing scream tore through the air, carried by the wind. Swift as a coursing wind, he swiftly turned his horse, galloping towards the desperate cries and the distant echoes of snarling wolves. As he arrived, a scene unfolded before his eyes—a courageous woman wielding a flaming branch, fiercely fending off a pack of ravenous wolves. Clinging to her petite frame, a terrified young girl sought refuge from the encroaching danger. The woman fought valiantly, her every swing a testament to her determination to protect her child and herself. Yet, the relentless hunger of the wolves fuelled their relentless advance, undeterred by the flickering flames. Decisively, Aegnor unsheathed his knife from his belt and galloped toward them.

    The fair-haired woman stared up at the elf in bewilderment as he looked with a menacing glint in its eyes. The pack's leader made its final advance, seeking an opportunity to strike. In a swift, ferocious motion, it lunged and clamped its jaws around the woman's leg, bringing her to the ground. Just as despair began to creep in, a thunderous presence emerged. Aegnor astride his powerful grey mare, crashed into the predator, trampling it beneath her hooves. The wounded wolf yelped and whimpered, while the rest of the pack turned their attention towards the valiant steed. As the maiden held her child close, she witnessed a mesmerizing display of elven skill. One by one, Aegnor deftly dispatched the wolves as they leapt toward his horse, their fates sealed by his unwavering prowess. The pack gradually dwindled, and the remaining wolves, sensing defeat, swiftly retreated into the shadows, leaving behind a scene of triumph and survival.

   The woman continued her bewildered gaze now mixed with caution, her eyes searching for answers. In a moment of profound connection, their eyes met, and an unspoken understanding passed between them. With deliberate grace, the elf dismounted his majestic horse, his every movement suffused with a quiet strength. As he sheathed his knife, the air around them seemed to hold its breath, brimming with anticipation.

   "I heard your distress, lady," he said calmly, his voice carrying a soothing reassurance as he approached them with measured steps. "I came to lend you aid!" Even as his words hung in the air, she swiftly drew a small knife, her grip firm and resolute, holding it towards him.

Aegnor instinctively raised his hands, a gesture of peace and understanding. Her wide, alert eyes remained fixed on him, filled with a mix of caution and determination, as she stoically shielded her frightened fair-haired daughter, clutching her tightly against her body. Nodding in understanding, Aegnor took a step back, respecting the boundaries she had set. "I know you are wary of me, my only wish is to ensure your safety. Now that the threat has been extinguished, I leave you in peace and be content to guard you from afar."

   With a deep bow, he turned to depart, accepting his role as a guardian from a distance.

  "Wait!" Her voice, calm and sweet, called out to him. Aegnor paused, his movements slow and deliberate, as he turned to face her once more. "Do you have any food?" she trembled, her voice carrying a vulnerable plea. Aegnor blinked, his face twisting with confusion and concern.

   "We have not eaten in many, many days, say for a few berries," she added weakly, her large round eyes glistened with desperation and sadness.

   "My daughter," she turned her head to the young, terrified girl who clung to her dress behind her, "She is so very hungry, If you had anything to spare, please, kindest lord, would you give it?" Her plea was heartfelt, her gaze filled with a mix of hope and despair. Aegnor's face melted with raw compassion for her. His eyes shifted to the child, noticing her small and malnourished body, the weight of sadness in her young eyes. He knew she spoke the truth. Aegnor's heart burst with sadness for the woman and her daughter. The depths of their hardship was clear to him. He had to help them.

   "I am afraid, I do not possess anything that can be consumed, but...Can you trust my word that I will return here shortly?"

Uncertain, but sensing the genuine care in his voice, the woman slowly nodded.

   "Please, wait here!" he urged, his words carrying a sincere plea for their faith in him. Aegnor swiftly mounted his horse and vanished into the depths of the night. Leaving her behind to contemplate her trust in him. Though a stranger he was to her, she knew of the compassionate nature of elves and placed her trust in him.

   Seated by the crackling fire and makeshift shelter she had made with her daughter, the woman anxiously awaited the return of the elf.  Finally, in the distance, the distinct sound of hooves grew louder, drawing closer to their secluded sanctuary. Standing up with her knife in hand, she readied herself to bravely challenge the approaching rider. Her tension, however, immediately quelled when she saw Aegnor emerge from the shadows, his silhouette clad in all black attire, only the golden glow of his hair served as a beacon of recognition. Dismounting gracefully, Aegnor lifted a young fawn he had prepared for her. He gently placed it at the woman's feet and backed away.

   She dropped her knife from her trembling hand, the metallic thud echoing in the stillness of the night. Tears streamed down her face, their salty trails bearing witness to the overwhelming emotions coursing through her. Her gaze fixed on Aegnor, a mix of confusion, desperation, and gratitude etched upon her features.

   "Why did you do this?" she implored, her voice quivering with emotion as her eyes filled with tears. "You repelled the wolves and now you  provide for us when you have no obligation to us!" She gave in to weeping and her fragile tears soaked the grass, her sobs echoing softly.

  "Why?" She cried

   Aegnor's gaze fell upon the woman, his heart heavy with pity.

   "You have a child in your care, I have the skills to help. If I had done nothing, her suffering would go on, please," He begged her, "please just take it, and be well!"

   She sobbed loudly, both in heartfelt grief and relief. Hearing her mother's cries, the young girl burst from behind the up turned sheet and ran to comfort her mother. Aegnor stood motionless, helplessly watching them weep. Unable to establish his next move.

   "Kind lord. You have saved us from the brink of starvation!" She whimpered, drying her tears. "Lord, eat with us! Allow us to repay you somehow! Please!" She begged

  Aegnor reluctantly agreed. Forced to abandon his vaunted elven pride. The threesome sat around the small fire. Aegnor observed the young woman and her small daughter devouring the cooked tender meat with ravenous hunger.

   It was a feast fit for a king, and he couldn't help but find relief in their enthusiasm of finally eating a decent meal. The warm glow casting dancing shadows on their faces. She offered him a morsel of the tender venison, her eyes sparkling with appreciation. Aegnor reluctantly took it from her hand out of sheer politeness and nibbled tiny bites away.

  "I know you are an elf, but you are unlike any we have seen," the fair woman said, her smile kind and sincere. Aegnor looked at her, his eyes curious as he took in her words.

   "What do we normally look like?" he asked, a playful smile gracing his lips. She chuckled softly, her laughter carrying a touch of fondness. "What I mean is that I know you are different somehow. There is a regal presence that you carry, unlike any simple elf we have known."

   Aegnor's gaze met hers, his expression softening as he studied every inch of her face. He found himself intrigued by the strength and resilience he saw within her.

   "We travel a lot, my mother and I," the little girl, Petaril, chimed in, her voice filled with innocence. "We meet many elves on our journeys!" She exclaimed proudly.

   Her mother smiled. "Petaril has grown well versed in the language," her voice grew tender as she affectionately tucked a rebellious strand of hair behind her daughters ear.

  "Gin suilon, man i eneth gin," Petaril proudly declared. Aegnor released a charming smile upon her.

   "That is quite impressive!" Aegnor remarked, "however, I am not of the Sindar. Therefore, the dialect is not my own," he replied, his voice warm and gentle. Petaril paused, casting her head down briefly, her disappointment evident. Just as Aegnor worried he had caused her upset, she raised her eyes again to meet his, determination shining through.

  "Anar culuva tielyanna!" she proclaimed

Aegnor's wide grin exploded, and he softly clapped his hands, his eyes aglow with delight. "I knew you were Noldor!" She cried, her eyes shining with glee.

   "It is rare that we encounter a Noldorin elf, but for one to have such fair locks like yours, It must be a novel thing indeed." The mother responded

  "The last time we saw a Noldorin elf, it was when father -"

   "Petaril!" Her mother's urgent whisper cut through the air, halting her mid-sentence. Petaril fell immediately quiet, her words left hanging upon the wind, unspoken. The weight of the interruption cast a shadow over their light-hearted conversation. Sensing the tension, Aegnor's curiosity was further ignited, his desire to know more burning within him. The woman, her face tinged with embarrassment, offered a sheepish smile to Aegnor, her eyes betraying a hint of sadness.

   "Please forgive us, " she said softly, her voice carrying a weary tone. "It has been an exceedingly long and draining day, and we shouldn't burden you with our troubles."

    Petaril yawned, and her mother gently bid her goodnight. Before going to the tent, she sweetly approached the elf, asking him for an embrace. Touched, he warmly accepted, opening his arm. She came to him immediately as he wrapped his arm around her tiny frame. She thanked him for the meal, her voice filled with gratitude. Aegnor trembled slightly as the gentleness of this sweet girl warmed him so greatly.  She turned and retreated to the comfort of the upturned sheet that sheltered them from his view, followed by her mother, leaving Aegnor behind at the fire.

   Aegnor's gaze lingered on their shadowy shapes through the moonlight that illuminated the thin sheet. He watched as she sweetly settled her daughter in and caressed her head tenderly like doting mother would, a deep longing stirred within him. And he felt the sadness well up inside. The sadness he had been running from his entire life had finally caught him, and he hastily wiped a tear from his eye just as she was returning to him. Settling down beside him. They sat alone together with nothing but the cracking fire between them.

   "Where is the father?" Aegnor finally asked, his words laced with curiosity and caution. Her gaze fixed heavily upon him, her eyes hardened with pain. There was a lingering moment of silent exchange between them, the weight of unspoken emotions hanging in the air. Finally, her expression softened, and her face relaxed. In that soft gaze, Aegnor could see the raw vulnerability that emanated from her. Masked by a blanket of inner strength that she had been forced to hold up.

  "If you truly wish to know the answer to that question, then you must first answer mine," she spoke firmly but softly. Aegnor nodded, deeming her terms as fair. "Just who are you?" she asked. Aegnor's gaze lingered, his eyes searched into her very soul.

   "Aegnor is my name, I hail from the noble  house of Finarfin. These lands belong to us. My brother Angrod and I," he answered, his voice carrying a weight of sincerity.

    "So, you are no common elf, but a prince. I knew there was something different about you," she whispered to herself, a smile gracing her lips.

  "May I inquire your name, my lady?" Aegnor asked gently

  "Marùel," she whispered, her voice laced with calm strength. Her eyes shimmered with a hint of wonder as they remained fixed upon the mesmerizing dance of the flames.

  "It seems I must answer yours now, though it pains me to do so," she trembled. Aegnor waited patiently for her to continue. "Petaril's father... was a very evil man, he haunted my every night," she confessed, her voice trailing off as she recalled the anguish. "He subjected me to his cruel hands, inflicting pain and misery upon me. One day, I found the courage to escape. I never looked back. I set foot upon this path, not knowing how to hunt, fish, or fight, but believing that a wilderness teeming with snarling wolves held less terror than another day looking into his eyes. While he slept, I took my daughter and left, leaving everything behind in search of a new life, and so, here we are".

   A long silence passed between as Aegnor considered his words carefully, his nerves palpable in the air.

   "I too am searching, I live upon a hope to reunite with a dear friend I lost," he admitted, his voice heavy with loneliness and longing. With a loud sigh, he drew a knee up to his chest. "I made a solemn vow to protect her, to be her guardian." he continued, "But now..." he sighed, looking into the void surrounding them. "In this vast world without her, it suddenly seems so...empty,"

   "I suppose we are all in search of something," she replied, her rich voice, gentle as summer rain. "Some pursuits are grand, while others may seem small. Yet, they all propel us forward, urging us onward in our journey," she added. A lingering stare of mutual admiration and respect hung between them.

   In her gaze, Aegnor found affirmation and a renewed sense of purpose, as if their encounter held a deeper significance beyond mere chance.

   "Aegnor, I believe you were meant to find me and my daughter tonight. I can not explain it, but deep within me, I truly believe it."

   A strong connection formed between them in that moment. "I know you are kind and good, and when you pave your journey, do so always with kindness in your heart and hope in your step." She reached out and gently touched his arm. "I hope you find what you are seeking," she smiled at him sweetly.

   She retreated, rising gracefully to her feet. She to lay down next to her daughter behind her makeshift shelter. The bond between mother and child is warm and true. The weariness of their journey weighed upon her, and soon her breathing steadied into the peaceful rhythm of sleep.

   Aegnor remained by the fire. He watched over them as he kept the flames alive. A silent guardian, ensuring their safety and warmth throughout the night. For once, Aegnor felt peace, a calming relief from the angry bitterness he had grown so accustomed to. As the warm sun rose above the horizon, its gentle rays bestowed a tender kiss upon Aegnor's cheeks. With the flames still alight, he ventured into the surrounding woods to gather more wood, a gentle smile gracing his lips. The forest floor was abundant with plentiful sticks, and he collected them with ease, their earthy scent mingling with the crisp morning air.

   Just as he prepared to make his way back, a beautiful object caught his eye—a delicate white flower, its silken petals unfurled in a full display of exquisite beauty beneath the sunlight's caress. Aegnor carefully plucked the flower, envisioning the joy it would bring to Marùel and her daughter. An unfamiliar sensation of elation surged through him, filling his heart with a newfound sense of bliss. Mounted on his horse, he rode with a sense of anticipation through the leafy embrace of the surrounding trees, his spirit buoyed by the enchanting morning that his bright, unyeilding smile could not contain. To avoid startling Marùel and the peacefully slumbering Petaril, he dismounted some distance away from their camp, carrying the gathered wood with him for the duration of the journey.

   As the camp came closer, Aegnor's smile grew wider with each passing step, eager to greet his new companions and share the beauty of the morning with them. Approaching the shelter, Aegnor's steps slowed as a figure emerged from within. His smile vanished, replaced by a look of alarm. A large, imposing man crept out from behind the upheld sheet, a foreboding sight. The man's scowl deepened, transforming into a deadly glare as he locked eyes with Aegnor, his gaze brimming with menace, a large scar cracked his ugly face Gripped by unease, Aegnor's fingers involuntarily released their hold on the wood, causing it to fall to the ground with a resounding thud, the sticks scattering at his feet.

   "Who are you?" The man snarled, his voice like a choke of sand. Seeing the knife in his hand, Aegnors eyes filled with unrelenting rage.

   "Where are they!?" Aegnor roared. The man staggered toward Aegnor, his movements hindered by a heavy limp. His eyes blazing and wild, holding his weapon to the elf. As the man drew nearer, Aegnor's voice thundered "What did you do to them!?"

    In one deadly swing, Aegnor unsheathed his blade and severed the man's head clean from his body. The lifeless form crumpled to the ground while the detached head rolled away. As his wrath subsided, Aegnor's approached the sheet, shielding Petaril and Marúel from his view. He hesitated, knowing that beyond its threshold lay a scene of unspeakable horror. He witnessed the blood pour out from the sides, a gruesome confirmation of his most feared outcome. The courage to peer on the other side eluded him, his heart wrenching with the weight of horror. Whimpering, Aegnor turned away, his body trembling as he collapsed to his knees. Uncontrollable sobs burst from him as he knelt. His tears soaking into the earth. He outwardly mourned the loss of his dear friend, the pain of the tragedy overwhelming his spirit. Eternally burdened by the shattered fragments of hope.

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Valinor

Year of the Trees

As the night cast its inky veil, a relentless search for the missing young prince unfolded. The king's guards, accompanied by torches and mounted on swift horses, scoured the trails, led by Finarfin, Aegnor's father, and members of the royal household. Hope mingled with trepidation in their hearts as they combed the land, and then, a guard's voice shattered the stillness of the night, carrying the words they yearned to hear. Finarfin, his eyes etched with worry, hastened towards the indicated direction, dismounting from his horse. He ran toward the small, hooded figure, huddled by a bank at the top of a waterfall, the splashes from his royal armour making ripples across the stream. He called out to his son. An adolescent Aegnor, his face concealed by a large hood, except for a few strands of golden hair peeking through, remained silent. A poignant pause enveloped them before Aegnor finally spoke, his voice laden with pain.

("They said I was unworthy... a filthy vermin,") The voice broke through the tense silence. Finarfin etched closer to the crouched, hooded figure ("You were right,") The fragile cry of a deeply wounded soul echoed from the shadow of the hood. ("You tried to warn me... and I did not listen!")

("Oh, my son,") the deep, velvet murmur of his father replied. His cloud grey eyes filled with trepidation. Leaning over him, Finarfin extended his hand and grasped Aegnors hood. Immediately,  Aegnor also grabbed it, stopping his father from pulling it back, but eventually surrendered and allowed his hood that had concealed his despair to be pulled away. Bloodied cuts on his son's face greeted his sight coupled with an unsightly chunk of severed golden hair, dangling and flaying unceremoniously in the breeze

A torrent of emotions surged through Finarfin's being. Aegnor, his dirty face streaked with blood and tears, saw the look in his father's eyes as the weight of what his son had endured crashed upon him. With a guttural cry, Aegnor's gaze shattered into a storm of tears.

("They cut my hair!") Aegnor cried. His sharp wail cutting into his fathers ears like knives.

Without hesitation, he embraced Aegnor, pulling the young elf into his body. Aegnor came willingly into his fathers arms, relishing in the protection of comfort only a father's love could provide. The anguish in his heart for his son's mournful plight fuelling his desire to right the wrongs inflicted upon his son.

("They will not escape the consequences of their actions,") Finarfin vowed, Gently, he brushed away the tears from Aegnor's cheeks, and his touch conveying tenderness and loving care. ("But first, my concern is for you. Come, let us go home.")

Guiding Aegnor with a gentle gesture, Finarfin led him towards the waiting guards, their expressions a mix of concern, relief, and sincere compassion for their young master. The young prince, battered and scarred, willingly followed his father's lead, allowing himself to be hoisted onto the back of his father's horse. The party of soldiers left that fateful place that had witnessed Aegnor's tears. He returned home, safe within the confines of home and the warmth of his family. His heart carried the scars of that fateful day, forever etched reminders of his resilience. In the sanctuary of the elven palace, Aegnor would heal, nurtured by those who surrounded him, forever transformed. As he grew, he came to be wary and distrustful. His innocence shattered with the sweetness of his nature, an aspect of his former self that his mother greatly mourned. He excelled in his martial studies, for never again would he allow himself or anyone else to endure such torment as he did that day. The wounds to his body would heal, but the scars upon his spirit would shape him into a different path.

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Warning: Chapter contains brutal depictions of violence and sexual threat.

The abandoned slaughterhouse stood silent.  It was the smell that woke him. Stale air and rotten timber. The ominous, rhythmic clanking of metal in the light breeze did nothing to sooth his nerves. Dust filled the air illuminated by the rays of sunlight streaming through the gaps in decaying wooden walls. As his foggy consciousness slowly returned, Aegnor soon became very aware of a sinister shadow looming over him.

"Wake up, little prince," the dry, crackled voice taunted as Aegnors eyes fluttered open. Crouched over his head was Hagrath, a leering grin stretched his lips as his eyes devoured his prized trophy.  Aegnor twitched and rolled onto his side to face his adversary. His hands bound beind his back by rope, he winced slightly in pain

"Are you comfortable?" Hagrath smirked,

"Not particularly..." Aegnor grunted hazily, rising into a seated position.

"Welcome to our humble abode!" He jeered. "My men and I were just discussing what to do to you. Like cutting off your pointy ears to adorn my neck!" 

"Truly?" scoffed Aegnor, "Since my ears are the trophies for your ardent fascination then, I beg you cut off my nose as well that I might finally find relief from the putrid stink that rots from you!"

Tense rage twisted in Hagraths face. His burning eyes glaring at the elf, he spat upon the ground next him. He slowly wiped the residue from his mouth. Making sure Aegnor bore witness to it all and rose. He walked away to rejoin his men.

Aegnor took quick stock of his surroundings. Rows of grisly, rusted implements used for chopping and cutting livestock hung ominously above him, glinting menacingly in the dim light. Plates of dirty glass hung haphazardly from above, adding a touch of eerie reflection to the desolate space where he found himself a captive.

His attention was abruptly diverted by the sight of Andreth, who stood, gagged and tied to a partially rotten contraption. The sight of her tears enraged him yet she seemed unharmed. He could not lose focus now.

Summoning his strength, Aegnor gracefully rose to his feet, his towering presence commanding the centre of the room. His gaze locked onto Hagrath, his eyes burning with iron wrath. Hagrath's voice cut through the silence, laced with derision and arrogance. Aegnor watched with a seething scorn as he stroked her head, causing Andreth to recoil in discust. Then suddenly, he unleashed a vicious slap across her delicate face. Andreth yelped loudly.

"Come on, elf!" Hagrath taunted and slapped her again "rescue your fair maiden!"

Aegnors eyes fixed on Hagrath. A raging thunderous storm reflected in their calm gaze. He struck her again, her sharp cry split the air and rang loud as bells in Aegnor's hot, red ears.

Cackling, Hagrath held out his hand, Raising it to Aegnors eye level. "You see this?"

The glint of Aegnor's cherished blade clasped firmly in his dirty fingers. "It's real pretty!" He waved it around rather ungracefully, Aegnor took stock of his posture and tracked his every movement. He smiled to himself, realising Hagrath had no real training or experience with a blade.

"Look at this thing... not even a single scratch on it, I don't think you're a fighter at all. Just a pretty stocking, full of shit!" Hagrath smirked.

"Then untie my binds! I'll put your mind to ease!" Aegnor sneered.

Hagrath burst into peels of hysterical laughter, his crooked, yellow teeth illuminated by the dusty sunbeams.

"Your not even going to beg?" Hagrath scoffed

Low and grave, Aegnor's replied "Nay, I have recognised the flaws in your design. It matters not what you choose to do this moment on. I have already decided the means by which I will kill you. Your success in capturing of me was but a fleeting victory. One that will end in your bloodshed."

Hagraths grin faltered, briskly attempting to regain his composure. "What flaw did I make?"

Aegnor's eyes locked with Hagrath's. His words laced with a bone-chilling certainty as he replied, "waking me up!"

A deathly silence followed as Aegnors gaze locked onto Hagrath like a predator drawing upon its pray. Words spoken with such icy stillness left even the most hardened of the group shivering. Without another word, Hagrath turned and slashed Andreth's face with it. Her voice collapsed into a high-pitched shriek, and the kiss of the blade stung into her flesh, drawing her blood across her cheek. Aegnor's icy calm shattered. A piercing roar of horror and rage tore through the air, emanating from the depths of his being.

This was the moment the men were waiting for as all at once, they pounced on Aegnor like wild animals in a cage.  But the elf was too swift, dodging every blow with calculated precision. No matter how hard they tried they could not catch Aegnor off guard, like he had eyes on every part of his body. Driven by a need to prove himself, it was Baryn who stepped into the ring. Challenging Aegnir with newfound courage.

He proved to be no match for Aegnor's agility, as the battle hardened elf launched the young man head first into an array of rusty tools. Broken glass rained upon him. A tool that hung above his head was knocked from its holster and fell downward, straight into Baryns skull. Convulsing violently, he slipped away. His body stilling and he slumped down dead.

The room was enveloped in an eerie silence as all witnessed the young life drain from him.  The men, enraged by the death of Baryn and wanting revenge, captured Aegnor and dragged him mercilessly over the shards of glass that scattered around the floor. They tore at his clothes and shred his skin as both men subjected the defenceless elf to a brutal assault, beating him senselessly within an inch.

Loud thuds, slams, breaths filled the dusty air old as Aegnor was subjected to a vicious beating. Andreths screams of protest and helpless terror joined with theirs as she was forced to witness the brutal assault inflicted upon her dear friend. The cloth slipped from her mouth and she pleaded with Hagrath, desperate to end the their torment.

"Stop! Stop this, Hagrath!" She cried, "Aegnor is powerfully connected in every realm in Beleriand, Prince's like him who will comb every leaf and road for your head if you do not stop!" Hagrath listened intently, his vacant predatory eyes fixed upon her. "If you saught to teach me a lesson, consider it taught! Take me in his stead! I will not run away...I will not fight back! I will be yours! Please Hagrath... stop hurting him!"

"You would give yourself so freely? Why? What hold does he have over you?" He sneered. A solemn, tear stained gaze was her only reply. "So... it is true... you do have feelings for him!" He leered, laughing hysterically at the irony, "all those years I wanted you, and you give yourself to him?! Miss high and mighty, the elfs little whore!" 

Her pleading, downcast eyes had no effect of him. "You said it yourself! Should I let him go so he can bring the entire elven army to my doorstep? How can I let him go now..." An evil glint shined in his eye, his sadistic desires never wavering. "Just how intimate are you with him?" Andreth remained silent, her gaze hardening and Hagraths taunting smile creeping wider as he hissed, "do you let him kiss those succulent sweet petals?"

She spat into his eye. He jolted as her scowling eyes glared intensely at him. He retaliated with a forceful slap to her cheek. Near knocking her to the ground.

Gasping for breath, the men finally halted their relentless assault, their battered knuckles throbbing with pain. They dragged Aegnor to the centre of the floor, throwing him to the ground. Tenrils of crimson blood streamed from his brow and nose, down the fine contours of his lips. He sat there eerily calm, like a demon in a state of dreaming.

Hagrath picked up a loose pebble and threw it at him. It pinged against Aegnor's forehead. Yet still, the elf made no move.

His men laughed, their cackles filling the air. A tear fell down Andreths cheek as she watched on helplessly. Watching Aegnor endure every degrading taunt and humiliating slur they could think to throw at him. Finally the men grow tired and frustrated at Aegnors total lack of engagement. Behind him, one man stood close, towering over the elf. He brandished a long iron cattle poker, holding it threateningly over his head. His heavy breaths revealed his searing rage toward the elf.

"I tire of this useless dog... Hagrath, give him to me!" The pot bellied man yelled, his white knuckles tightening around the seering rod. "I want to brand every inch of his body for what he did to Baryn!" 

Hagraths chilling laughter rang out. "Plundering, killing, raping... isnt enough for you anymore?" He cackled with sinister amusment. "We'll deal with the elf later, for now..." Hagrath turned to Andreth "it seems her ladyship is overdressed for the occasion. Let's unburden her!" 

"Don't touch her!" A piercing growl split the air, demonic and primal. Its otherwordly resonance startled the cackling men. Aegnors eyes had opened, his menacing glare fixed upon them. Blood saturated his face and hair.  "You will not touch her... lay one hand on her and you will know the full might of my vengeance."

Slowly, Hagrath approached. Aegnor's precious blade still clasped in his hand the bright gleam from reflected low sun. He crouched before him, invasively close to his blood stained face, taunting him, Raising the razor sharp blade to Aegnors neck.

"Is she a toy of yours to command at your will...just like this blade once? We can't both have her, elf," he taunted "do you know what she did? She made an offer I almost couldn't refuse. To open her legs and do so willingly... all to bargain for your safety!"

Aegnors silent, unblinking glare devoured Hagraths sardonic grin. 

"Yield to me, you have lost! You are worthless to her!" He hissed through his yellow, snarling teeth.

The stoic facade Aegnor had maintained began to fracture, his hardened glare faltering, his resolve shattering. His eyes, once brimming with silent strength dropping to the floor. Hagrath revelled in his percieved victory. Aegnor yielded as Hagrath pushed his head back, the blades razor sharp tip drawing lines on his delicate throat. Hagraths gaze devoured every inch of Aegnors fine feature. Intoxicated by the sweet taste if impending victory.

Seeing the disarmed elf completely at his mercy, Hagrath withdrew the blade. The moment he did so, Aegnor's eyes snapped open. Revealing a monstrous light like wild fire.

A sharp, sickening, guttural screech erupted from Hagrath as a large shard of razer sharp glass was plunged into his throat. Hagrath fell to the ground in a violent, convulsing fit, his eyes wide with shock.

His binds severed from the shard he concealed behind his back, before the men could react, Aegnor grabbed the red hot rod that was held above his head and drove it into the mans leg, it sizzled loudly and smoked as he screamed. Now wielding the rod as a weapon, Aegnor leapt to his feet and beat the helpless man mercilessly with whiping, scorching blows. Finally pinning him down by his throat, the elf showed no mercy.

"No! NOOO!!" He screamed before Aegnor drove the red hot iron into his head through his eye. His peircing screams rang out as blood and matter boiled from his eyesocket. Once his screams has ceased, Aegnors murderous gaze turned to the last man remaining. He immediantly fled the scene, grabbing the blade Hagrath dropped, Aegnor launched himself after him, swiftly closing in. Seizing him behind, he slashed his throat cleanly.  Andreth watched in horror as the man gurgled, and blood spurted from his throat.

He threw the writhing man to the floor like a sack of rotten potatoes. With a cold, vacant gaze, Aegnor placed his boot on the mans neck and pressed down. Thick blood pooled from the man's throat as his life drained from his body, under Aegnor's cruel watch. Petrified, Andreth watched the scene unfold, a silent witness to the force of Aegnors fury. Finally, after the man breathed his last, Aegnor turned to Andreth.

Blood splattered across his face, clothes, and hands. Glowing, demonic eyes peered at her through tendrils of golden hair, stained red with blood. The light in his flaming eyes left him as quickly as it came and he appeared normal again. He cautiously approached her trembling figure.

"Don't be frightened, I will not harm you, Andreth," he spoke, his breath trembling in the tense silence.

He raised his hand and placed it tenderly on her face, turning it to one side, he inspected the wound on her cheek. Her loud, shaking breaths soothed from his gentle, reassuring touch

"Are there any more?" he asked, his voice coarse. She shook her head, her eyes filled with tears, and Aegnor proceeded to cut her bonds with his bloodied knife. As soon as her arms were free, she lunged at him, wrapping her arms tightly around him, needing the solace of a protective embrace. He struggled with the urge to cry as her arms squeezed around his waist, eliciting sharp shots of pain from his beaten body.

Slight movement among the mutilated corpses of men attracted Aegnor's attention. He abruptly pulled away from her embrace and stomped towards it. Hagrath lay on his stomach in a pool of his blood. He slithered upon the floor, the shard of crimson stained glass still lodged in his throat. Upon seeing him, Aegnor closed in as Hagrath clawed at the ground, desperate to escape. His steps, slow and ominous. He grabbed Hagrath, flipping him onto his back and stood over him. He held Hagrath by his clothing, his repossessed blade erect in his other hand. His eyes filling with a menacing bloodlust no force could satisfy.

"Aegnor!" She cried in protest.

He whirled his head, his glaring eyes locking with hers. "don't...!"

For a brief moment, he did hesitate. Her pleading eyes near tempering his seering rage within. But, seeing the wound on her cheek, the cut inflicted by Hagrath to taunt him quickly downed any mercy within him.

"If you do not wish to witness... then look away!" he hissed.

Relenting, she did so without resistance, understanding that now even her pleas held no sway in him.

Heaving furiously, Aegnor turned his attention back to Hagrath. Despite Hagrath's weak whimpers for mercy, Aegnor emptied his rage upon him, ruthlessly mutilating, disembowelling, and desecrating his face and body. Every slice, hack, and blow was an explosion of fury unbridled. Continuing his brutal assault without stopping until there was nothing left to sever. Finally, Aegnor's vengeance quenched. Blood saturated his hands and clothes as he stepped away.

"Let's go!" he growled as he stormed past Andreth, who had averted her gaze throughout the entire ordeal. When she finally turned around, her hands covered her mouth, stifling the scream that threatened to come out. Piles of mangled organs, blood, and dismembered body parts were strewn about, remnants of what was once Hagrath.

After a prolonged pause, she turned back to Aegnor, who stood waiting on her, her eyes wide with terror. Aegnor, seeing the fear in her eyes, gently extended his hand to her. After a long hesitation, Angreth responded, taking it in hers, and Aegnor led them into the warm embrace of sunlight and the cool shade of the surrounding trees, leaving the old slaughter house behind Strewn across its decaying ground, the lifeless bodies of the men who had dared cross Aegnor and to Andreth, a testament to the lengths he would go to protect her.

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The gentle trickle of the stream sang tranquil songs surrounding Andreth as she sat silently by the bank. She watched Aegnor cleanse himself in the flowing water. The crimson stains mingled with the current. His wet hair, unbound and loose, cascaded down his back. But it was his shoulders that commanded attention, sinewy and powerful, displaying the strength that lay within. A gentle breeze whispered through the air, softly tousling Andreth's hair and dress. Her eyes remained vacant, the weight of what she had seen still settling upon her.

Aegnor turned his head, his eyes meeting Andreth's in a silent exchange. In that fleeting moment, a world of unspoken words passed between them. His gaze was soft, a plea for comfort in any form. He longed for her understanding, for the solace only she could provide. There, in the depths of his eyes, Andreth could sense the raw vulnerability that seeped from him, his need for her unwavering support in that one look.

Rising gracefully to his feet, he threw his thin shirt over his powerful shoulder and made his way towards her. The setting sun bathed him in a warm orange glow, accentuating his every contour. His black leggings clung to his narrow hips, and he bared his skin in front of her, his muscles bent and flexed with every graceful step. As he approached, Andreth couldn't help but notice the scars that covered his body. Dark red lines veined around his torso. Flesh long healed with time. She noticed a silver carved pendant, glistened against his chest, swinging freely with every stride. 

Settling beside her on a log, Aegnor draped the thin shirt across his body, his movements tense and guarded. The charged silence enveloped them, and Andreth's gaze was drawn to his hands, blood seeping between his fingers as he discreetly tended to a cut palm.

The weight of his presence settled upon the log. Aegnor's stormy gaze stared into the distance. The silence grew heavy until, finally, his voice broke through, laden with frustration.

"Darkness comes soon... we must find my horse and return you home," he growled, still avoiding her gaze. Andreth's heart tightened, a mix of apprehension and longing filling her.

"Perhaps we should make camp..." her fragile voice spoke, "and look for her in the morning,"

"Nay!" Aegnor barked, shaking his head. A heavy silence enveloped them, and the gentle trickle of the river sung its lonely song. "I do not regret what I did to him!" He hissed, his eyes darting at her. "He will never harm anyone again!"

"Thank you..." she whispered.

Aegnor's remained distant, consumed by a storm of thoughts. They sat side by side, enveloped in a heavy silence that carried the weight of a thousand unspoken words. She trembled, her voice laced with concern. "You're hurt..." reaching out her hand in a sincere offering. Aegnor ignored her, his face hardening.

"Aegnor?" She insisted, reaching further. Her cold finger tips grazed his wounded hand. Aegnor jolted to his feet, wrenching his hand free

"Stay your hands from me, woman!" he roared

The sudden outburst scared her immensely.

"Do you have no regard for your own life!? Once afore, you were beset by that parasite and lo, you took no action to see him punished for his crimes. Now you barter with him while your very life hung by a thread! Have you no shame? Have you no care?!"

"Please Aegnor, lower your voice!" She replied with feigned calmness.

"What unspeakable fate would have came upon you had I not, for the second time, been there to prevent it, Andreth? What would have became of you!?"

She remained silent. Her wide eyes frozen in place.

"Answer me!" He demanded, glaring down at her, his eyes filled fear and hurt.

She did not answer him. She could not.. for she feared his response. Her head dropped low as the silent tears she faught back began to flow.

"Andreth," he huffed and leaned closer to her, desperately seeking some understanding, "have you no care for my feelings?" 

His heavy question hung between them and Andreth sank deeper into her lap. Disappointed and angry beyond measure, Aegnor turned from her.

"It seems not so," he concluded and left her there upon the log. His form fading along the bank to the distant trees. Alone, her sobbs echoed out into the forest, mingling the cheerful chirps of birds in the air.

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The crickets chirped as the owls hooted in the trees around the makeshift camp. The darkness of the forest at night still terrified Andreth as she sat alone. The soft, warm glow of the fire highlighted her fair, solemn face. The traumatic ordeal was still fresh in her mind. She slowly traced her hand over the red painful cut on her cheek just to feel what she had lived through was real. As she sat alone on the large fallen tree branch, her long unbound hair cascading down to her hands placed neatly on her lap, she heard the snap of a twig behind her. 

She whipped her head around and listened quietly. Another snap alerted her, and she leapt to her feet to face the threat. Her panic soon washed into relief as she saw Aegnor approaching from the darkness carrying his saddle.

"Did you find her?" She asked worriedly

Aegnor stopped and darted his gaze toward her, his eyes sore and red from an obvious episode of angry weeping,

"Only what the wolves did not eat," 

He dropped the mangled and shredded saddle soaked in blood on the ground with a loud thump. She covered her mouth in horror as she realised the terrible fate that came to Aegnors beloved companion. Loud huffs of pent up rage surfaced from him. He grabbed the saddle and violently hurled it into the darkness, roaring furiously into the void, his voice broken with agony. He stuck his blade into a log of wood and flopped down. His head sunk between his knees. Andreth sighed heavily and sank back down on the log beside him.

"What now?" She whispered, gazing vacantly at the fire. Aegnor sighed deeply and lifted his head.

"We wait for daybreak, then, I will decide our course of action," 

A tense silence enveloped them, both hesitant to break the stillness that hung heavy in the air. Her pain gnawed at her, and the persistent itch on her leg grew increasingly unbearable. Yielding to the discomfort, she quickly lifted her dirty dress and petticoats. 

The sudden, full display of her bare leg caught him off guard. His eyes lingered on her fingertips as she gently caressed her wound. Slipping them delicately over the long cut in her sleek flesh, attempting to stop the small trickles of blood that trickled down the curve of  her smooth thigh. He silently watched her futile attempts to tear fabric from her petticoat to fashion a makeshift bandage. Seeing her struggle, he plucked his knife from the log beside him and offered it to her. Her eyes lingered on the hilt of his knife that awaited her hand. She nervously lifted he gaze to to meet his. There was no anger in his eyes, only softness.

With hesitant hands, she gently took the blade. The blade glided through the fabric of her dress, smooth and effortless. The tense silence hung like lead between them. Aegnor finally turned to her again and witnessed the sparkle of a single tear fall from her eye.

A heavy, sorrowful sigh escaped him. Aegnor, the weight of his words etched upon his fair countenance. "I am sorry, Andreth," his soft murmur fluttered from his lips, his voice thick with the burden of emotion. "Truly, I am." A profound understanding passed between them, their eyes meeting in a silent exchange.

"A fire rages within me, as fierce as a dragon's ire," he confessed, his tone laced with a tinge of shame. "A force of destruction I battle to keep in. I am sorry you had to witness that."

Andreth's silence then broke, her sorrow echoing out in soft, tremulous weeping. Guilt and regret consumed Aegnor as he observed her distress. 

"It is my fault," she whimpered, the painful lump in her throat betraying her anguish "my silence in not seeing Hagrath put to justice is what led to this. You were dragged into this awful business Aegnor... and you almost lost your life for my foolishness." Andreth's face turned from him in shame, unable to meet his gaze, her voice and body trembling with lingering fear, "know this," she continued, "what that snake said about me... I did not bargain with him out of shaken faith in you. Losing you... to a monster like him... was a prospect I simply could not accept Aegnor. You are too precious to me," 

Andreth felt the warmth of his comforting hand upon her shoulder. 

"The desire to safeguard your friends, even at the cost of your own peril, is a noble and brave quality," he said softly, a gentle smile gracing his lips. "I understand this desire more than you will ever know, Andreth. Your courage bought me a moment - it was the moment I was waiting on. Once again, you have proved yourself a worthy companion to me, and I owe you thanks,"

Hee tears melted into a grateful smile and she rubbed her weepy, swollen eyes and sighed heavily, releasing the tension in her body.

"Do you have many friends, Aegnor? Among your own kind I mean.."

There was a long pause as he contemplated her question. 

"No," came his simple reply "I prefer it that way," he sighed, releasing a long breath "a very long time ago, I came to learn a very importan lesson. Even those that have your trust will betray you in the end. So I chose the path I would take. Free of those who may hurt me. "

"That is a very lonely path." she murmured "to live is to be vulnerable. To love... and be loved in return, even if the cost is high. Is that not the meaning of life?"

"No, my lady," he replied grimly "when the cost of love is my doom, my total and complete desolation, there is no choice. Not for I"

"I may be a hopeless dreamer, but I am no fool Aegnor. There must be a hundred beautiful maidens who would come at your every beck and call. With your beauty alone, you could enchant even the proudest of hearts and they will fall like putty in your very hand. You may have any maiden you desire. Which is why I know your words to be folly," she said quietly. There was a hint hopelessness in her voice, a deep sadness she could not hide.

Aegnor remained silent, his thoughts far-wandering. She silently soaked in every corner of his elven face, its beauty unparalleled and mysterious, but it was the sadness in his eyes that captured her the most. So much pain concealed in a single gaze.

"Beauty is meaningless... when it conceals a monster buried deep within," he whispered

Andreth blinked slowly. She witnessed his hands tighten into a ball. His eyes swelled with sorrowful tears. With careful movements, she etched closer. The sound of the fire spit between them. Amplifyied only by the tension between them.

"At times our hearts speak when our lips cannot be commanded, and there is much in your heart, my love," She whispered.

His eyes, red with unshed tears, turned to her gaze, a lifetime a pain in one look, he blinked and a tear spilled. She took in every detail of his face. A thin scar scored through his ear, a childhood wound, long healed with time. His fragile, teary gaze bore right through her. Her breath caught in her throat, her voice, low and soft continued, "even you are not made of stone, Aegnor. There are desires that compel even you, do not fight them."

His gaze fell to the soft curves of her red, velvet lips as if drawn by a force he could not resist. Then, as if pulling himself from a spell, he looked back to the comfort of the wild flame.

"You profess to know me, yet you do not Andreth. Not truly. I am more dangerous than your mind can fathom. Desire for me- is a torrent flood held back by sheer will, that is why I connet give it reign over my heart. Who would covet a spirit as tormented as mine?" he whispered dismissively.

"No, I believe you are a force of good, there are many who love you," she replied softly, "when you saved me from the troll... all those long years ago, you did so not out of duty, this I know now. Beneath the guarded walls you keep, shutting everyone out, deep inside you, you were once a child, just as lost and afraid as I...and there was no one who saved you."

In that moment, he bared before her his true soul in its raw form manifested in a single, glistening tear. She uttered her breath as soft as dove feathers, "do not fear the shadows of your being, for they are part of who you are... and a source of great strength,"

The soft breeze kissed his golden shimmering strands, drawing her eyes to a treasure she had long desired to touch. Her heart thundering in her chest, with trembling fingers, she slowly reached out, patiantly waiting for an invitation. Understanding her silent request, his eyes lingered, then he gently closed them, granting her desire.

With fingertips entwined in the strands of his hair, she clasped a lock as though it were a possession long lost to her. The velvety touch welcomed her hold as she gently slipped down its entire length. The shimmering waves curl unwinding as her delicate fingers passed over. Reaching the end she lingered for a moment before releasing it with a heavy sigh and it sprang back into its natural form. His eyes fluttered open, with soft, controlled breaths, his gaze turned to hers.

Fixed on him, her senses drunk in his nervous scent. He swallowed. Andreth, her heart thundering in her ears, drew closer, her eyes and lax lips inviting him to taste them. His heavy lidded gaze fixed upon her offering, he was completely under her spell. She felt the rhythmic graze of his warm breath upon her flushed cheek, he offered no resistance to her pull. Andreth gasped softly. Her sences ignited and her body burning as the sweet carress of soft elven lips teased against hers. Their quickened breaths melded between their mouths as both hung between a moment of final hesitation. Only for the moment to be cruelly snatched away by a sudden sharp hiss from Aegnor as he abruptly disengaged and shot to his feet.

"Aegnor!" She cried, jolting to her feet also, realising her grave error. "Forgive me, Aegnor... Please! It was wrong of me to be so bold! I truly thought that... that..." her heavy breaths filled the stillness. When he ignored her cries for forgiveness, her desperation only grew to new hieghts, completely abandoning her self restraint. "I am lead by my hearts desire to lay a stolen kiss upon your lips. I am but a helpless moth, drawn to your naked flame... and burnt."

His cruel silence lingered still. He stood, before her, His back turned, unmoving as a mountain in a storm. She stepped closer, finding a ray of encouragement.

"Know, that from the moment I first saw your face, when you wrapped me in your own mantle and carried me to safety, I have wanted you. My feelings for you only going stronger with time." She could no longer take his cruelty. Gently, she reached out, stepping even closer. Desperate to rekindle her precious connection to him.

"If there is... but a small hope..." her fragile voice trembled, her fingers outstretched, they slightly graze his palm. Her touch suddenly animated him and he whipped around, angrily wrenching his hand free from her gentle hold. Her face strained against the sobs that begged to be released, her arms instinctively closing into her chest.

"Do not touch me! Do not ever put your hands on me again mortal!" He roared, harsher than he realised. His eyes boiling with an unleashed fury and he pointed his finger directly in her face, "consider this your only warning, stay your distance!"

Without another word, he stormed off, his shadowy form disappearing into the darkness of the night. Alone in the camp, Andreths heart shattered into pieces, her frail and broken cries melding with the owls in the trees.

She sank back down upon the log. Her breath hitched as she struggled for air against her tears and the shock of hus harsh words. A small glimmer caught her eye, offering a small dustraction from her anguish — in his haste to depart, he had left his precious blade behind. A cherished possession of immense significance. Though hesitation gripped her, she mustered the strength to pick it up, clutching it tightly as a symbol of their fractured bond. Knowing what comfort his blade was to him, she breathed, hesitating before rising to her feet again. Determined, she set forth into the night, driven by an unwavering need to find him, to bring him his possession in the hopes of mending what had been broken between them.

Some distance away, Aegnor approached a rocky clearing at the pinnacle of a cliff, his body sank gracefully to the ground, bringing his knees to his chest. He paused silently in the solitude of the night. Deep within the chasms of his mind, a calm voice emerged, replaying the haunted words burried deep in his memory.

"Are these the youths who attacked you?" The ghostly voice of his father echoed in his mind. "What punishment shall they suffer for their unjust cruelty upon you?"

The voice of a much younger Aegnor replied, "Please entreat the king to show compassion... and let them go. Bring no harm upon them,"

"I am proud of you... my son," the voice echoed back. The lonely sound fading into the air.

Aegnor sank his head into his knees, curling into a ball of gentle sobs. As he wept into the velvet darkness, he remained oblivious to Andreth's presence, the knife held firmly in her hand. She paused, his soft cries carried upon the wind. Her anguish was replaced with compassion as she listened to the painful cries of an elf, utterly broken. She understood now. She understood what he needed. Silently, she turned away and retraced her steps. Leaving him the space to grapple with his demons alone.

By the time Aegnor had returned, he saw her curled in a ball by the fire, fast asleep. His knife hugged closely into her chest, its hilt glistening beautifully in the flickering fire. He felt a delightful flutter from within his body as he watched her sleep so peacefully, his fëa stirring deep within. Gently, he crouched over her and gently plucked the knife she held against her chest and covered her. With a tender stroke to her dark head.

"Sleep, sweet child," he whispered.

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The warm rays of the late morning sun bathed Andreth's face, casting a golden glow upon her as she awakened. Her eyes fluttered open, greeted by the radiant sunlight filtering through the tree above. The gentle rustling of leaves and the melodic chorus of birdsong greeted her ears.

The horrors of the previous day seemed to melt away in her mind, giving way to the beauty of the crisp morning air. With a contented sigh, Andreth shifted onto her side, her gaze drawn to a captivating sight—a luscious red apple carefully placed beside her head. Sitting up, she surveyed her surroundings, discovering that she was alone.

"Aegnor?" she called softly.

Aegnor was nowhere in sight. The birds were her only reply. The sudden memory of the previous night flooded into her mind. The scent of his hair, the taste of his breath. The lingering memory of a sweet kiss that almost was. Her stomach turned within, riddled with a deep regret.

"He has rightly abandoned me here. I had his trust, and I betrayed him, Ive driven my dear friend away," her thoughts as broken as her heart, she began to weep softly. Her eyes filled with fragile tears. "I was a fool to believe he could ever love me,"

Holding the apple in her hand, she took a bite, savouring the succulent and sweet explosion of flavours that danced upon her taste buds. The sweet taste seemed to comfort her as she devoured the juicy fruit down to its core. Her hunger and pain remedied, she rose gracefully and stretched her lithe form. Her slender back arching as her arms folded behind her head. She drank in the song of the birds. A truly beautiful morning.

Finally, she left the camp behind, picking up her satchel as she went. She wandered through the forest. The gentle rustling of the wind through the towering trees created a soothing melody, accompanied by the cheerful symphony of chirping birds.

As she continued her stroll, she paused to watch the flickering tail of a playful squirrel scurry away up a tall tree. Its mouth filled with a tasty nut. She smiled softly as it scampered into its home and out of sight, warm and safe. A sudden thought took her, stilling her with fear. She had not a clue how to get home.

As she wondered a few steps more, a firm hand clasped her wrist from behind, halting her steps. Startled, she whirled around, gasping loudly to see it was Aegnor who had siezed her. The sunlight illluminated his eyes, reflecting their hypnotic glow that captured her every time. Without uttering a word, he motioned for her to be silent, placing a finger on his lips.

He gestured for her to follow him, and she readily complied, following him into the thicket immediately. Silently, Aegnor led her to the edge of the forest, where a vast grassy field stretched out before them. Andreth gasped in sheer delight at the sight that greeted her. In the centre of the field stood a magnificent horse, a true embodiment of grace and strength. Cold splashes of rain hissed in the distance and kissed the grass. Its onyx coat shimmered in the raindrops, elevated by powerful legs. The horse flicked its wet tail contently as it grazed on the lush, sweet grass. Aegnor and Andreth crouched low, concealed by the tall grass.

"Never in all my days have I seen such a magnificent beast!" Andreth whispered, her voice filled with amazement.

"He wandered into the camp during the night, and I have been quietly tracking him ever since," Aegnor whispered, his eyes never leaving the horse. "If I am to tame him, I will need your help."

Andreth nodded understandingly as cold raindrops slashed her nose and sprinkled her long eye lashes with due.

"You will be the distraction," Aegnor replied softly, taking her hand gently in his. He placed an apple in her palm, his touch sending shivers down her spine. "I will take care of the rest."

Their gazes met in that moment, his eyes, filled with light and beauty entangled with hers. "Aegnor," she whispered, her voice trembling.

"Keep yourself in his line of sight at all times. Let him come to you. We only have one chance at this, do you understand, Andreth?" Aegnor instructed, redirecting her attention back to their plan. She nodded determination in her eyes. He waited for the perfect moment. "Go," he whispered. She followed his command without question and slowly, cautiously, Andreth began her approach.

The stallion spotted her, its gaze fixed upon her, as she maintained a respectful distance. With steady hands, she held out the apple, a symbol of trust and friendship. The horse's curiosity piqued, and its cautious steps ebbing closer.

As the horse nibbled the apple in Andreth's hand, her heart pounded with a mixture of excitement and awe. Filled with newfound courage, Andreth nervously eached out and caressed the horse's nose. Meanwhile, Aegnor calmly circled the creature at a distance, gradually coming closer with each round. He sang a gentle melody, an elvish lullaby to soothe a fiery soul. As he closed in, he caressed the beast, soothing it with his beautiful voice.

With a chord woven from vines, Aegnor gently roped the animal. However, the spell was suddenly broken as the startled horse whined loudly and reared. Aegnor acted quickly, taking control of the situation using his strength and gentle voice to calm the animal.

With soft hums and soothing moans from Aegnor's buttery voice, the horse gradually came to stillness and snorted, indicating its readiness. Aegnor gracefully leapt and slipped onto its curvaceous back and swung his leg over. His smile gave Andreth courage as she steadily approached. Extending his hand to her, Aegnor pulled her up onto the horse's strong back behind him. She gasped as she felt the horse's power beneath her.

"It will be a long while before we reach Ladros, so we can not stop," Aegnor spoke softly but no less firmly.

"Aegnor...," she whispered  softly. He waited for her to speak.

She lingered in a moment. The rain splashed upon them, their faces and hair wet with its heavenly due. From the stillness, the faint rhythmic thump of a beating heart. Slender hands slowly encircled his narrow waist. Thin wet clothes clung to his solid frame yeilded to her delicate fingertips as they slowly glided over the firm indent of his navel and down the solid planes of his lower abdomen.

A faint sigh of surrender echoed from his lips, the heat of his breath carried away by the wind. She brought her lips to his ear.

"Thank you...,"

Her grateful whisper, dripping with honey, lingered in the cold air. Her velveteen murmur sweetened his ear. His trembled. His face a flush of red. A vulnerable moment, he chose to conceal from her view.

A gentle stroke of the horses neck, the majestic stallion instantly understood its chosen masters command and launched forward. Together, they embarked on a journey bound for home, just as they had done once before. They soared the expansive open plains of Dorthonion, with only the wind and rain to challenge them. With a raging fire within him, he tested the stallion's endurance, its muscles coiled like springs ready to unleash its power. Clinging tightly to Aegnor's solid body, Andreth couldn't contain her sheer delight in the exhilaration of the furious ride, her voice called out in jubilation and excitement, her bright smile challenging the suns very power.

Her unhinged joy infected Aegnor's whose laughter and shouts melded with hers. They shared in their release and love of freedom. In that liberating ride, the wind wipped their hair, locks of gold entwined with ebony. All the weight of the previous day seemed to fade into the distance. They were as spirits renewed with hope and joy in their hearts. She clung to his back, burying her head into his clothing. His scent filled her nostrils, intoxicating her. Her faith in him now unbreakable. Aegnor was her rightful protector, her champion and she was his alone.

As the warm, orange sun descended upon the horizon, Andreth's humble abode came into view. Aegnor brought his horse to a gentle halt on the hillside, taking in the picturesque scene before them. Wisps of smoke gracefully billowed out from the vent on the roof, dancing against the backdrop of the vibrant orange sky.

"There seems to be a grand feast underway," Andreth remarked, her eyes twinkling with excitement. "The Valar must have blessed Bragor and Variel with a new baby just last night!" She exclaimed excitedly Aegnor turned his head to regard her.

"Already?" He gasped, shocked, "It has only been nine months since they were wed, the pregnancy cycle in mortal women is far shorter than that in elves!"

Andreth's brows furrowed with uncertainty as she turned to Aegnor. "Are you certain you wish to accompany me into the household?" she inquired, her voice laced with nervous uncertainty.

"Perhaps my presence will aid in cooling the full force of your fathers wrath," he replied simply.

"Thank you Aegnor, I feel much better...," she retorted with faint annoyance. With a gentle kick, the stallion galloped down the steep hilltop and onto the lush, grassy plain, carrying them toward the celebration.

As they approached the keep, the imposing gates swung open with a graceful motion, allowing Aegnor and Andreth to enter. The fortress seemed eerily quiet, except for a few guards who approached Lady Andreth and informed her of her father's restlessness during her absence, as he was preoccupied with the birth of his grandchild. Consequently, he had decided to postpone his search for her until the morning. Aware of the trouble she had caused, Andreth's heart filled with fear as she struggled to gather the courage to step into her own home.

A warm hand gently grasped hers, and she turned to see Aegnor standing beside her, his smile and reassuring gaze providing her with the strength she needed. Knowing that he was right there by her side, Andreth wiped her eyes and straightened her dishevelled clothes, determined to face whatever awaited her inside. With a firm nod, she signalled to the guards to open the grand doors.

As the doors swung wide, a wave of tantalizing aromas wafted through the air, teasing their nostrils. The keep was a bustling scene, filled with people of all ages seated at three long tables laden with a feast of food and drink. Two tables flanked either side of the room, while the third stretched across the back, facing the entrance. Andreth's family and a handful of her most persistent suitors occupied the seats at the back, their expressions a mix of curiosity and disgruntlement.

The joyful music, cheers, and lively songs that had once filled the air fell into a hushed silence. The room seemed to hold its breath. Andreth, doing her best to ignore the sea of eyes upon her, stepped forward with Aegnor gliding closely behind. Murmurs and whispers echoed around. Boromir slowly rose from his chair as she approached, placing two hands on the table before him. Silence hung in the air, the weight of unspoken words pressing upon them. Boromir bowed his defeated head low, and let out a long, heavy sigh. Struggling to hold on to what patience he had left for his eldest daughter.

"Lord Aegnor!" he addressed the elf first, his strong voice bellowing into the hall. "If my daughter had come alone or with anyone other than you, I would not be as calm as I am now!" he spoke. His voice laced with authority and slight relief. "Andreth, daughter! Your absence has caused your mother and I a great deal of distress! Bregor missed the very birth of his child, searching for you! You can not fathom the emotions I feel at this moment!" Andreths teary gaze turned to Bregor who could only return the exchange with equal concern.

"Whatever perilous ventures befell you, judging by the state of both of you, they were grave, and once again, he brings you to my doorstep! Do you not think he has enough to do?!" Her father scolded her harshly. Not holding back. The tension in the hall was palpable as Boromir's words hung in the air, awaiting Andreth's response, when her voice failed her, Boromir's anger blazed.

"Speak girl!" He ordered her.

"I..." she whimpered, her breath hitching as she struggled to hold back her tears. Aegnor could witness it no longer.

"Lord Boromir, if I may speak on behalf of your daughter, she is still greatly shaken from her frightful encounter with the orcs," Aegnor stepped forward, his steady voice echoing confidently in the hall.

"Orcs?" Boromir replied, his brow raising with concern.

"It was upon a meadow of flowers I found her, my kin and I. It was then we were caught off guard by a band of ferocious orcs, we became quickly overwhelmed and driven out. At daybreak when it was safe, I parted from my company to escort her home. Please hold her in no blame, for her only desire was to be of service to Variel to ease her discomfort as best she could,"

"It is true, but I am unharmed thanks to the valiant efforts of Aegnor and his company," Andreth breathed, calming her nerves and turned to Bregor, her brother. Her sincere regret filling her eyes. "Bregor, I took something from you that I can never give back, the very birth of your first child!" Andreth added, her voice broken with sincere, teary regret. "I am very sorry!"

"You have returned safe and well, Andreth," Bregor replied, "That is all I could ask for,"

"There are other men present who also require your heartfelt apology, Andreth!" Lady Anthel chimed in. "Our gracious lords and champions who have patiently waited for your response to their proposal for twelve long weeks now!" Andreth turned her gaze to the handsome, noble men, who scowled at her impatiently from the end of the table. "Extend your apology to them and finally provide either one of them with your acceptance," her mother grumbled bitterly. Andreth looked back at her mother and narrowed her eyes.

"No," Her blunt reply came.

The room filled with echoes of small tittering as the insulted men rose from the table and left, followed by Lady Anthel running and pleading after them.

"Bregor has forgiven you daughter, and so, we shall speak no more on it. Please, everyone! Let us continue this joyous celebration!" Boromir declared. The voices and music swelled once again as the hall became alive with laughter.

"Take your place at the table, Andreth," He requested, his voice competing with the crowd.

"No father, allow me to retire to my bed chambers, the orc attack has unnerved me, I will pay my respects to Variel once I have rested" Andreth requested politely. Boromir nodded agreeingly.

"Lord Aegnor!" His voice boomed over the crowd. "Thank you once again for returning my daughter to the safety of her family. It will not be forgotten,"

A small girl emerged from underneath one of the tables parallel to the great hall and ran towards him, latching around his leg. Aegnor dropped to his knees and scooped her up, smiling radiantly up as she hugged his neck tightly. She was promptly followed by a swarm of children, their gleeful laughter filling the air as they all crowded Aegnor. Playful laughter bubbled from the elven warrior, immersing himself in a sea of tiny hands and arms, all eager to touch him. The young girls showered him with affectionate strokes on his face, while the boys gathered around, peppering him with curious questions. The children were utterly gleeful to have their special guardian back

Andreth watched on as the children flooded Aegnor with innocent smiles and kisses and Aegnor soaked in every one. She had witnessed the brutal violence he was capable of, yet he seemed in that moment so childlike himself. How could a being be so gentle, yet so brutal, so guarded, yet so passionate. She shuddered at such a man

Finally, Aegnor said his goodbye's and rose, leaving behind a crowd of jumping, excited children, eagerly waving in his wake. While everyone was distracted by their conversation, Andreth quietly followed Aegnor outside. The two of them found themselves bathed in the warm golden embrace of the lowering sun, marking the end of this day. Watching as Aegnor tenderly stroked the nose of his new stallion.

"What shall be his name?" Andreth asked, a soft smile playing on her lips. Aegnor turned to her with a smile of his own.

"Sorna," Aegnor replied, his voice filled with pride. "His will is unbreakable!"

"Sorna...It's a fitting name," Andreth said, her eyes lighting up. She joined Aegnor in stroking the magnificent beast. Finally, she turned to him, shy eyes shrouded in admiration and deep affection.

With a slight smile, Aegnor gazed down at her, his eyes filled with tenderness. An intense pause hung between pregnant with the weight of unspoken words. Then, like a graceful swan, she dipped into a formal but no less bittersweet bow.

"Goodbye, Aegnor," she finally said.

With all the bearing of a regal elf, her glided closer to her and leaned forward. Her breath stopped in her chest. A kiss, sweet and lingering, landed on her soft cheek. She dared not move. Slowly he withdrew and turned around, his intense gaze never wavering from her. She watched silently as he climbed upon Sorna's curved back with an almighty leap. His muscles bulging beneath his clothing and he effortlessly pulled himself up.

"Andreth, before you lay upon your bed tonight, check the contents of your satchel," he spoke down at her, a sly smile upon his lips.

Puzzled, she drew breath to speak and he charged off without waiting for her reply. She watched him fly away from her in a manner she did once before. He rode through gates at a furious pace and soared accross the glade. His hair flying wildly behind him. A furious flame, untamed and unconquered.

Upon entering her bed chamber, she cleansed her body with water. The voices and music muffled from the great hall as she sat by the cosy fireplace. The cool sponge kissed along the delicate surface of her body as the sweet water trickled down. She removed the bandage from her thigh and cleaned her wound. Washing the horrors of the past behind her. Glimpses of him flew through her mind. His tender care and fierce protection. She now saw him in a new light. For beautiful, though he was, he was dangerous. She would not take him so lightly.

As she slipped into appropriate bedding garments, she took note of her satchel and his parting words to her. Picking it up with a mix of curiosity and trepidation, she gingerly searched the contents of her satchel, her fingers fumbling in the dim light. Among the items, her hand brushed against something unexpectedly cold and solid. Intrigued, she tightened her grip. With cautious anticipation, she pulled it out and gasped, her breath catching in her throat at the wonder resting in her palm. In the soft glow of the flickering fire, a blade hilt adorned with moonstone wrapped in delicate vines of pure gold and silver.

Her heart quickened and her eyes filled with delicate tears as she unsheathed Aegnor's cherished possession. Its surface gleamed with a resplendent lustre. She held the blade to her chest and danced around her chambers with joy, her long, white bed gown whirling gracefully with her long hair. He had given his answer.

She had his heart.

○○○

HITHRIM

381 A.D

The sons of Feänor had convened at the behest of Fingolfin the High King, with the noble intention of assuaging their long-standing enmity towards the houses. Secluded in a modest chamber away from the gathering, they engaged in counsel with one another, the mood in the small room was potent with a deathly foulness.

"It appears that Fingolfin the King has squandered our father's rightful fortune on superfluous and self-indulgent diversions," Caranthir grumbled to his brother, his rough voice dripping with envy.

"And to what end, dear brother?" interjected Celegorm. "Merely to beseech us to set aside our well-founded disdain for him and his progeny, so that he may revel in these frivolities without hindrance?" He scoffed, raising a goblet of potent elvish wine to his lips.

"I implore you both to cease your foolish behaviour," Amrod retorted from across the dimly lit room, bathed in the ethereal glow of moonlight and adorned with marble accents. His voice, gentle and imbued with silken grace, carried a subtle reproach. "It seems to have eluded your consciousness, that father never condoned the act of speaking ill behind one's back."

Celegorm, his baritone resonating with a mixture of disdain and venom, responded sharply, "Pray tell, were you dropped upon your head at birth, or are you purposefully foolish? Has it not occurred to you that this entire charade is but another display designed to flaunt his accomplishments before us?"

"Enough Celegorm! Refrain from uttering another word about Fingolfin!" Maedhros interjected, effectively silencing their contentious banter. "I am well aware that some among us harbour deep-seated animosity towards our kin, yet I must remind you that nurturing such sentiments has not aided us in cultivating any valuable alliances. Regardless of your resentment, it remains an indisputable fact that the houses of Fingolfin and Finarfin stand as our closest allegiances against the real threat that we all fight. Devoid of their support, our realms shall forfeit the relentless tides of Morgoth. This is a lesson I have learned and one that you must also!"

Maedhros departed and rejoined the lively gathering. His departure was swiftly followed by the arrival of Maglor and Amrod. Meanwhile, Celegorm, Curufin, and Caranthir remained behind, immersed in their despondency, before reluctantly succumbing and joining their kin. The air was suffused with the enchanting strains of a beautiful harp, its delicate melody weaving through the atmosphere. Maedhros and Maglor engaged in amiable conversation with their cousins and the esteemed Fingolfin. As they conversed, they forged deeper connections with the likes of Finrod and Turgon, both of whom held influential positions within their hidden cities.

As the conversations unfolded, Maedhros and Maglor found themselves building profound connections not only with Finrod and Turgon but also indirectly with the formidable warriors Aegnor and Angrod, who, along with Maedhros himself, were the undisputed champions of war. Amidst these conversations, words about Aegnor and Angrod slipped in. Maedhros listened eagerly as Finrod spoke of his brothers proudly and the terror they filled within the hearts of Morgoth's minions. Their fierce loyalty to Finrod made him a powerful ally, one Maedhros and Maglor hoped to persuade to join their cause in building their alliances.

Meanwhile, Celegorm stubbornly huddled in a shadowy alcove, distanced from the bright and jovial crowd, his reluctance to partake in the festivities only serving to heighten Maedhros' already arduous task. Muttering discontentedly to himself, his abhorrent distaste in the company abundantly clear.

"I apologize on behalf of my brother, my lord," Maglor spoke, a tinge of embarrassment colouring his soft voice. "His heart, devoid of joy, have never been enticed by the pleasures of merriment."

Fingolfin smiled warmly, his eyes reflecting a deep understanding. "Nor was your father, my brother," he replied. "He will forever dwell in his colossal shadow. However, you and Maedhros, your partaking in this feast is what truly matters to me. We are more than just allies striving to defeat a single enemy," he paused, his eyes brimming with warmth beneath his shimmering silver crown, "We are family, bound by blood, and always we shall remain,"

Maedhros and Maglor mirrored each other's smiles, a testament to the unbreakable bond they shared. With a graceful motion, Maedhros raised his chalice, a gleaming vessel filled with the elixir of celebration. "To family, and the king, long may he reign!" he proclaimed,

Fingolfin, his countenance adorned by a humbling smile, raised his chalice in unison with Maglor. Together, their voices melded into a harmonious chant. "To family," they intoned, their words infused with a profound sense of belonging and unity.

As they were yet drinking, a door clanked open, and the imposing figures of Aegnor and Angrod entered the gathering, returning from an inspection of the guards and the palace defences. Their commanding presence seized the attention of the entire room as they waded through the crowd. Their faces were stern with perceptual glances. They moved with confidence, their powerful aura filling the open space. As they made their deliberate approach, their gaze fell upon their cousin, who huddled in the shadows, visibly miserable.

"What do your eyes behold?" Celegorm retorted, his gaze coshing with theirs as they crossed their line of sight. Angrod paused, followed by Aegnor.

"Why do you not partake in the gathering with your kin?" Aegnor inquired, his brow tense with a profound distain.

"Do not presume that mere familial ties bind us as forever companions!" Celegorm sneered disdainfully. "I would no sooner seek your friendship than entertain the preposterous notion of Morgoth as my becoming bride! Be on your way!" He grunted with a flick of his wrist, adorned in bracers of black wolf fur. Aegnor glanced at his brother, his lips pulling into a mocking grin.

"Have you not heard, Angrod? The Noldor face a dearth of suitable brides for their princes!" Smiling sardonically, his gaze fell upon Celegorm again. "Henceforth, it is my judgment that Morgoth himself would serve as the only commendable match for you Celegorm!" His mocking wit was followed by Angrod's sardonic snicker. "I shall be first to send my congratulations by letter!" Aegnor's legendary wit left Celegorm bereft of a matching response. With a haughty glint in his eye's Aegnor claimed his victory with a shallow dip, his arms open in a taunting bow. He spun on his heels and began striding away.

"You dare to turn your back on me, half breed! Do you truly believe that to be a wise choice?" Celegorm called out. The gentle harp stopped. Maedhros cast a stern gaze upon Celegorm, and an air of hushed silence fell upon the room, for the threat made against Aegnor was unmistakable. With all eyes upon Aegnor, a soft, mocking chuff escaped him as he turned to face him again, and he glided toward him, closing the distance.

"I did not turn my back on you out of trust, cousin!" He hissed "I did so because you are no threat to me... so do not even attempt to be so. You are nought but a wayward hound, pitifully picking at the bones of my kill," Aegnor's voice lowered to a hum dripping with potent venom. "You are nothing compared to me!"

"Always so fierce and guarded you are Aegnor. A lion in a cage of wolves. But remove the claws and a lion is still just a kitten," Celegorm hissed, narrowing his icy grey eyes. Celegorm circled him, his voice resounding loudly for all to hear. "Heed my voice and listen!" He called to all. "It has come to my ears that Aegnor possesses little understanding of the events within his own realm. Morgoths power is growing, while he spends his days with men and playing with their children!"

"Stop this Celegorm!" Maedhros roared at his brother. His eyes burning.

"Be silent Maedhros! If no one is prepared to speak on him, then I shall!" Celegorm bellowed, pointing at Maedhros. Finally, he came to a halt in front of Aegnor's thrunderous scowl and spoke clearly, "do not think it has escaped my notice, I know what you have been doing, what secrets you keep from us, and that delightful man Lord Boromir, whome you so esteem,"

"Keep that name out of your mouth..." Aegnors voice rumbled with a fierce and primal growl. A stark warning.

"I hear their hospitality is greatly admired, perhaps I shall pay them a visit... perhaps even meet their little ones," Celegorm muttered

Aegnor's last restraint shattered like brittle glass, with a violent surge of rage, his hands instinctively lunged for Celegorm's throat. His strong frame slammed against the the wall held by Aegnors iron grip. The raw force nearly knocked an unwitting musician from her stool and she hastily retreated from the scene. Finrod swiftly inteceded to control his younger brother, whose melting eyes burned like liquid gold into Celegorm's skin.

("Let him go!") Finrod commanded. Aegnor needed more persuasion. Finrod grabbed his brothers wrists, pulling at them.("Aegnor! I command you! Release him!") Finrods voice grew more urgant.

With his eyes still blazing, Aegnor finally released his grip from Celegorm's thick, swollen throat and he sagged to the ground, gasping for air. Aegnor was pulled away by Finrod who threw himself between them, but the rage in Aegnor could not be quelled by even his efforts. Aegnor paced furiously, his chest heaving, his burning glare boring into Celegorms as he struggled to rise to his feet. He lashed out at Finrod

"You carry the blame for this Felagund!" He roared clasping his throat and rasping, "had you had tighter reins over your war hound, he would be fulfilling the role you charged him with, instead he has been squandering his nights wrapped in the lips of a certain maiden!"

At this, Aegnor exploded. Like a demon from hell, he lunged at Celegorm, the force pushing Finrod out of the way. With claws of iron, he grabbed his cousin once more and they balled upon the floor, with Aegnor quickly gaining the upper hand. Furniture was knocked over and ornaments crashed. Aegnor straddled Celegorms strong form. Curufin and Caranthir rushed to aid their brother, but their attempts was foiled by Angrod who quickly intervened. He grappled their squirming bodies. Aegnor, utterly compromised, unleased his rage upon his helpless cousin, delivering a barrage of bone crushing blows to his face, elven blood splattered as he relentlessly pummelled Celegorm into the unyielding stone ground.

All looked on in horror as the House of Finarfin, the paragon of their lineage and prudent grace, transformed into primal brutes. Suddenly hands siezed Aegnor and in one fell swoop, effortlessly lifted him from the ground, and with an unfathomable strength, propelled Aegnor across the room in one fell throw. His body collided to the ground with great force. Pain and shock gripped his body as it slammed into the ground,. Fingolfin towered over his nephew. Casting a shadow over him. His glaring eyes fixed upon Aegnor. The tense rage that marred his beautiful face was replaced by one of terror, like a defiant child suddenly chastised.

"Stay where you are!" he thundered, pointing an unwavering finger directly at Aegnor.

"Angrod! Release them!" his command echoed, leaving no room for negotiation. Angrod released the squirming bodies of Curufin and Caranthir. The King commanded the entire room, an air of authority unchallenged. Finally, he turned to his beloved nephew, who was nursing his bloodied knuckles, sadness and disappointment laced his deep and booming voice.

"Aegnor, I think it is best you left us. Return to your realm, your presence here is no longer welcome among us," Fingolfin's order, delivered with a sense of deep hurt and disappointment, was final. Aegnor, his wounded eyes fixed firmly on the ground, rose to his feet

"Forgive me, uncle," he murmured with a respectful nod and departed, quietly weaving his way through the see of judgmental gazes and elvish whispers.

"My Lord, I will leave also," Angrod stated drawing Fingolfins attention, "With your permission... If you must cast out my brother, then cast me out also. He has done no wrong!"

"Do you not see your error in this?" Fingolfin replied, "Aegnor is a force unleashed, and you enable him! Argon is no longer among us. Already, I have lost one son in this struggle, and I bear his weight not lightly, and yet behold, there is now squabbling amidst our own kin. I will not bear anymore losses, we are too few as it is!"

"It is Aegnor that has brought us this far! Or have you all forgotten so quickly!?" Angrod passionately shouted, "we would all be in Mandos cursed grasp if it werent for him!"

"Aegnor is a problem I can no longer afford! He will learn to control his anger or face the consequences, do you understand Angrod?!" Fingolfin bellowed

"Clearly...." Angrod hissed, wholly unwillingly.

Fingolfin turned to Finrod, whose dismay was evident on his down cast gaze and cradled brow.

"Finrod, I know the weight of Aegnor's decisions weigh heavily upon you. But I can not allow it to continue, do you understand?" He asked softly

"Yes, my lord." Finrod replied vacantly.

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Alone, Aegnor stood upon the main promenade of Norgothrond. Two cascading underground waterfalls stood on each side. Vines lined with a ghostly bioluminescent glow veined around the grand round balcony of Finrods dwelling. Tall lamps ablaze with flickering flames stood like radiant beacons, casting their warm glow upon the vast and mysterious kingdom. A world far removed from the comforting embrace of sunlight and all that was familiar to Aegnor, who very much preferred affairs above ground.

As he waited, a meek female attendant offered Aegnor a delicate glass of wine, presented to him upon a silver plate. She held it beneath his nose, her eyes not meeting his. He took the glass with an elegant sweep of his hand and sipped.

After enjoying the taste of the velvety elixir, Aegnor's gaze descended upon the unfathomable chasm below him. His mind was consumed by the memory of his regrettable deeds at the gathering several months prior, actions that had left Finrod ominously silent ever since.  Just then, a lone figure approached from behind him. His long, unbound hair flowed behind, smooth as fine silk.

"Only you would infiltrate my kingdom Aegnor, without prior warning and leaving nary a trace for my vigilant guards!" The angelic voice of Finrod echoed out in an affectionate tone of light hearted sarcasm.

"I did not wish to disturb your slumber... brother," Aegnor softly replied.

"Disturb my slumber?" Finrod scoffed, his voice catching a heavy glint of irony. "Were it not for my cherished assortment of exquisite ornaments that you inadvertently smashed with your clumsiness, perhaps my guards would not have been compelled to chase you through my abode, onto the rooftop, where you were promptly recognized before they discharged their arrows...perhaps I would still be slumbering!"

"I tried, Finrod... You did not return a single missive I had sent to you!" Aegnor responded, his voice tense. Finrod chuckled softly, and striding towards a small silver casket, he brought it to Aegnor and presented its contents to his eyes.

"Are these the ones you sent?" He asked. The contents revealed a meticulously bound collection of nearly a hundred opened letters, bounded neatly together with a ribbon. "I have read every one, alas, the demands of ruling a kingdom leave me scant time to pen even a solitary letter these days," Finrod beamed warmly. He cast his gaze upon his youngest brother, whose sorrowful eyes remained fixated on the silver box in his grasp. A tender hand rested upon Aegnor's arm, "You presumed a chill had overtaken my love for you. Regardless of your questionable discernment, little brother, never would I withdraw my affections toward you,"

Smiling gently, Finrod returned the box to its place.

"Perhaps you should this time, for I am nothing but a fool!" Aegnor grumbled. His robust arms folding on the flat, stone balustrade. "Once again, I brought shame to you... and our noble house,"

His head sank low, consumed by a flood of remorse that coursed through his being. Finrod poured himself a glass and joined his brother, standing close beside him. He took a long, thoughtful sip and tensed his lips. His light grey eyes fixed forward.

 "Do you recall a certain chest from our youth? The one atar always kept locked?" He asked.

"Yes..." Aegnor replied, "the key was lost and it could not be opened,"

"No, Aegnor... do you not remember? Atar fabricated the tale of the lost key. Truth was, he had it in his possession the whole time." Finrod paused, "and so, we all fell for his ruse and were content to admire the chest with closed minds." Finrod placed his glass down upon the balustrade, his smile drawing wider, "that was... of course, all of us... except for you,"

 His eyes fixed in Finrod's as he continued, "you Aegnor, were not so gullible and easily saw through his deception and hassled poor atar relentlessly to reveal the key you knew was hidden in his mantle. Even his unbending patience was worn thin by you and he revealed the key to our eyes and opened the chest."

Aegnor, his brow furrowed asked, "What was inside?" Finrod's answer came with a solemn tone.

"Nothing... nothing at all." he replied calmly. "The chest was empty. But by the mere act of locking it, atar instilled a belief within us that a great secret resided inside, and that was the lesson he sought to teach us. If we allow the words and actions of others into our minds and hearts, we lose the ability to control the outcome." 

"Why do I not recall any of this?" Aegnor whispered, his mind searching.

"You were very young then, Aegnor. Not even yet the tender age of a youth, but even in those early years, atar discerned the immense strength that dwelled within you, a formidable power indeed. Yet, your eager persistence also revealed a great weakness that was easily exploited by the contents of a valueless chest,"  

Aegnor's demeaner sank as he absorbed Finrod's message "Observing you in Hithrim, how effortlessly Celegorm inserted himself into your head, poisoning your thoughts... and all the raw force you exerted upon him in that moment reminded me of atar's great concern. I confess, I am deeply worried for you," The intensity in Finrod's eyes gravely wounded Aegnor. Aegnor evaded his gaze completely

"Aegnor..." Finrod called softly, Aegnor finally looked at him, "Is there any truth to what he claimed about you... with a maiden?"

Aegnor found himself trapped. He released a long, troubled sigh and thinned his lips. "I had not wished for you to learn of this in such manner," His voice laced with a palpable sense of defeat. "It is true... there is a maiden who has captured my attention. We were dear friends once.... yet.... I can no longer ignore the cries of my guarded heart." He sighed deeply, turning around, leaning back against the ornate balustrade. A tremor passed through him, his fragile voice trembling as he continued, "for a moment... I near succumbed to a seductive kiss, the touch of her lips burns still upon my flesh," He murmured.

Finrod received this confession with a solemn nod, his features etched with a calm understanding. At length, he broke the weighted silence. 

"This maiden of whom you speak, Aegnor... is she someone known to me? A friend whom I have had the honour of meeting before, perhaps?" he asked slowly, chosing his words very carefully. Aegnor paused, the weight of his tumultuous emotions palpable in the hush that followed. 

"Your paths have crossed once before, yes," he answered finally, "but her name... I cannot reveal to you Finrod, at least for now. I must have some time,"

Finrod felt relief. He knew many suitable elf-maidens, all exceptional in loveliness, manner and station. Any of whom would make a fine match for his brother.

"She holds a power over me I am helpless to resist. My body trembles when I hear my name whispered from her breath," added Aegnor and he sank slowly to the ground as is pulled by some weighty burden, his back slumping against the small balustrade pillars, bringing his knees to his chest. He buried his face into his palm as if nursing a sickening, age long migraine. 

"What is this curse that has afflicted me....? This is a torment beyond my endurance!" He murmured quietly

Finrod lowered upon the stone floor, his long legs gracefully folded beneath him. With compassion in his gaze, he beheld Aegnor, his mind traversing the corridors of memory to a time when his own heart had been stirred by a similar emotion.

"Does this fair maiden reciprocate the depths of your affection, Aegnor?" He gently prodded.

"Without shadow of doubt...," he whispered hazily, "she would equally surrender to me as I would to her,"

"Then rejoice my brother, for you have finally fallen under the call of the feä!" Finrod smiled bright and fair. Aegnor lifted his gaze from the palms of his hands, his countenance a tapestry of perplexed irritation, silently yearning for further explanation.

"The ethereal allure that draws kindred souls together, a spiritual bond woven amongst our kin," Finrod explained patiently, "the marital union between the Eldar is forged in this time. The feäs, they beckon to one another, and soon the hröas follow suit. It is a force of unparalleled intensity, an exquisite power that defies explanation. A drawing for physical and emotional intimacy that is far too powerful to resist, and from what I can see, you are well into its advanced stages," He added before continuing again with more thought, "I certainly would recommend a swift engagement without delay, and an even shorter betrothal period once the war has ended. Perhaps seeking a term of absence from her for a while, so the heart may not be so tempted." He added

"This...?" Aegnor grumbled, "this is the elated elevation of grandeur that has sparked the endless, punishing lectures my ears have endured from both you and Angrod!?" His countenance unimpressed and dishevelled stared up at his older brother in defiance. Finrod nodded, his smile blossoming into a radiant grin.

"Pfft! It's nothing at all like you claimed! It is abhorrent and I hate it!" Aegnor barked. Finrod chuckled softly at such a predictable response from his youngest brother.

"It may seem inconceivable now, but in time, you shall come to appreciate its profound beauty. For love, in all its manifestations, is a tapestry woven by the Valar themselves, and one day, you shall find solace within its safe embrace." 

"How long will I feel this way? When will this sickening feeling subside!?" Aegnor's demand hung in the air, charged with raw emotion. He jumped to his feet, his eyes burning into Finrod's, his voice laced with more aggression than he had intended. Finrod couldn't help but find amusement in Aegnor's newfound misery, and a mischievous smile played on his lips.

"From what I know, they will subside once both fëa and hröa have been satisfied...through the joining of sexual union, dawning the age of blissful martrimony. Alas, I too yearn for my beloved, Amarïe, but I have learned to live with this longing, as you will also."

A stunned silence followed Finrod's words as Aegnor absorbed the weight of what was said. The soft glow of bioluminescent lights and flickering fire lamps cast a gentle radiance, enhancing the smooth texture of Aegnor's face.

Finrod took a purposeful stride toward him and placed a warm hand on his broad shoulder, his presence both comforting and commanding.

"Aegnor, my brother, embrace this new chapter in your life. Do not resist its call, nor should you harbour fear within your heart. For the fëa, the ethereal essence deep within us seldom errors in its choice. This maiden, whoever she might be, was destined to cross your path, and soon, you shall find completeness."  

With genuine warmth, Finrod's hand alighted from him. "When the ravages of war have subsided and peaceful times grace our lands once more, I shall stand proudly at your side to witness your sacred vows at the alter and welcome this new addition into our fold,"

A wide, elated grin unfurled upon Aegnor's countenance, his cheeks ablaze with sheer delight. In the wake of Finrod's departure, Aegnor's merriment overflowed, and he danced with unadulterated joy upon the balcony. His lustrous hair twirled around him with every graceful step, casting a spellbinding aura. In that moment, he could scarcely recall a time when he had felt such profound happiness, and he vowed to protect it fiercely. He would never allow it to be taken from him now.

○○○

Ladros

381 A.D

The debate of paramount importance was held at night, casting a glow upon the large hall. The crackling firelight illuminated the faces of the attendees as raindrops pelted the wooden structure outside. Despite the raging storm, the interior of the hall remained warm and dry, providing solace from the tempestuous weather.

Morgoth's rising power had cast a shadow of fear upon the land of Ladros, compelling the lords of the three houses of men to convene and address the growing concerns. Boromir called for a mandatory meeting to discuss the future of their people. The weight of the decision hung heavily in the air as the lords deliberated whether to stay and endure the encroaching darkness or seek a new home elsewhere.

Among the attendees, Aegnor, sent by Angrod as an observer, arrived cloaked in darkness, his presence unnoticed by the gathering. He silently made his way to the back of the crowd, his keen eyes scanning the hall. Amid the flickering flames, he caught sight of a raven-haired maiden standing beside her brother, who was addressing the lords. Her radiance and serenity shone through. Like a graceful lady, her gaze swept across the concerned faces in the room, each expression reflecting the weight of their worries. It was a room filled with tension and uncertainty. Her eyes moved with a quiet elegance, gliding over the worried brows and furrowed foreheads.

Aegnor stood apart from the rest, leaning against a sturdy support pillar. His features were partially concealed by the hood that cast a shadow over his face. Strands of shimmering golden hair cascading down in a gentle coil like threads of spun gold.

After much deliberation, the decision was reached unanimously—they would leave Ladros, forsaking their ancestral home forever. However, before the men could make a final vote, Andreth entered the circle from the crowd. Boromir granted her the opportunity to address the assembly. With determination, she stepped forward, entering the circle of seasoned men.

Her bearing regal and her words measured, commanding the attention of the assembled lords. Her voice, though tinged with a hint of vulnerability, rang out with conviction.

"Esteemed lords of the Free Peoples, I stand before you as the scion of a noble house, one whose very foundations were laid by the honoured deeds of my ancestor, Beör. It was none other than the elven lord Finrod Felugund, who bestowed these lands upon my forebear - a gift borne of his unconditional love and unbreakable loyalty to our kin."

Her gaze swept the assembly.

"I was granted the privilege of encountering the legendary elf, but once, yet the impression he left upon my heart is indelible. For never have I met a kinder, more generous soul whose love and divinity extended to all under his care. A hush fell over the hall as she paused, her words hanging in the air like a challenge. "I beseech you, noble lords, to consider this: If Beör, our revered ancestor, were to stand among us now, would he flee like a cowardly cur caught in a hailstorm? Or would he, with resolve, sacrifice his very lifeblood to defend what is rightfully his - our lands and our legacy?"

Her voice rang out with a fervent, almost pleading tone, as she awaited the response of the assembled lords. Her impassioned words resonated within the hearts of those present. The silence that followed was pregnant with contemplation and introspection, as each lord weighed the significance of Andreth's plea.

Aegnor watched her from behind his pillar. He hung upon her every word. Her radiance exuded within the hall. It was as though she was a becon of light that illuminated the entire room. In that hallowed moment, the decision that had seemed unanimous moments ago became mired in uncertainty.

"We stay!" The fervent cry echoed through the air, each word filled with determination and hope. The crowd, moved by her impassioned speech, raised their voices in unison, their collective strength overpowering any doubts that lingered. One man rose abruptly from his chair, his voice lashing out like a whip, accusing Andreth of overstepping her place in the realm of men.

Bregor, ever loyal, leapt to her defence without hesitation. With unwavering resolve, he confronted the old man, his voice firm and commanding, silencing the disrespectful accusations. The clash of wills hung heavy in the air, but the unwavering determination of the crowd began to wear down the resistance of the lords.

The news of Ladros' decision to stay resonated through the hall. Grateful gazes washed over Andreth, their eyes filled with admiration and appreciation for the woman who had become their beacon of hope. Older women clustered around her, their voices praising her courage to speak out, but Andreth's fleeting glance fell upon Aegnor. Whose hidden features and fluid movements, she discerned so easily. He slipped away into the night.

Drawn to him, Andreth found herself making her way outside into the wild throws of rain and thunder, heading toward the stables, where she discerned his shadow, moving along the floor within. She entered the stables, aglow with the soft kiss of moonlight. There she beheld him, his back to her, his hood lowered. He was hastily preparing his horse to leave, damp hair from the rain clung to his face. She observed him silently, each movement marked by a stormy fury akin to the torrential downpour outside.

"Aegnor?" she began softly as she approached him, drenched by the relentless rain. Aegnor paused, his gaze fixing intensely upon her, her skin and hair glistening with moisture.

"Return to your house, you did not see me," he murmured, returning to his task only far more slowly than before.

"Aegnor... what is the matter?" She asked gently, stepping closer. A deep troubled sigh blew from his nose and finally, he turned to her. His eye's locking with hers.

"Have you seen war, Andreth?" he muttered, "Nowhere remains to conceal your fear. They sever your feet from your body so you can not run. They sever your hands so you can not fight," Aegnor's voice charged with anger, his words resonating with intensity. "When you can no longer escape, they tear you asunder! Ripping you apart while—"

"Stop it, Aegnor!" she shrieked.

"How can you seek to fight that of which you know nothing!" he roared. His tempered fist struck the wood beside him, resounding in a thunderous thud, the force of which shook the entire structure within. She stood, stunned into a silence, her eyes swelling with tears.

"What an utter fool you are Andreth!" He yelled, his voice breaking with pain, "You have doomed yourself and others! Did you not think of them!?" Tears pooled in her large, round eyes. She swallowed tensely and held his gaze with courage.

"This is our home. We have no other place to run." she replied tenderly, her voice steady with remarkable clarity. "If we fall, we fall facing the rising sun, not the shadow it casts upon the ground, we are the Edain," she muttered, pausing, her voice breaking with unspoken longing. Aegnor stared into her as she stood before him, his expression softening upon her pitiful, drenched form.

"And the children? What say do they have in their own fates while it is decided by those who are sworn to protect them?" He growled

"We all see the darkness Aegnor. Young... old, it makes no difference. He will come, one realm at a time. Their fate shall be ours." She replied steadily.

Aegnors face twisted, unable to believe his own ears. "If you believe for a moment that I am prepared to stand idle while your senseless judgement kills everyone and you, you are sorely mistaken my lady!" He countered.

"It is not your place to decide my fate or the fates of all of us! This is the path I have chosen! And it will not be swayed otherwise! I thought you were different to the men of my people, but even you are seduced by the power you hold over me but you have failed in your efforts to assert your control!"

Aegnor squinted, his face tense with a boiling, restrained rage "Is that what you think?" He muttered, she tensed as he slowly drew towards her, his footsteps creaking the wooden boards lightly with each measured step. "Is that truly how you perceive the depth of my feelings toward you?"

Andreth withdrew, her head dropping to the floor. Her shimmering eyes broke from his penetrating gaze in retreat, "No," she whispered frailly "Forgive my harsh words, they were born from the heat of my anger. I did not mean to wound you, Aegnor." She mumbled

Standing before her shrinking frame, the tension in his stern face melted away, releasing it in a heavy dismissive sigh. The steam from his nose mingled with her damp hair. Aegnor leaned close into her, bringing his lips to her ear. The faint brush of his scent fluttered into her nose as he whispered, "you hold me in the very palm of your hand. Losing you will be an agony I will not be able to endure." His frail confession hung like a lead cloud between them, a single heart-wrenching plea to her to save him. "I will perish without you." He muttered.

Her breath hitched as their eyes met once more. The very veins in her body burned with longing. With his face but a breath from hers, her eyes fell upon his mouth, and his lips drew every fibre within her. Every nerve in her body coiled. She swallowed hard, her voice reduced to a whisper that escaped her trembling lips. Then her eyes found his once more.

"I am sorry, Aegnor..." she whispered, "Even you can not shield me from all things, just as you can not be shielded. Just as the day yields to the night, this truth you must accept. Nor by trial or desire, no matter how deep they run within us. We are powerless to alter this course."

Swift hands seized her as she turned to leave. The hard wood surface met her back as he closed against her. She held his gaze with watering eyes, wide with alarm. Soft rumbles of distant thunder and the lashing of the torrential rain crackled around them as Aegnor pressed her against the wall. Bathed in the soft glow of the nights lonely light.

"You speak with such righteous conviction, but the fear in your eyes reveals the truth! You run from it because it frightens you! Just how long did you think you could hide it from me?" He muttered. Glistening round pools, teary and guileless, stared up at him, searching in the depths of his. "If you truly believe the words you claim, then take your leave now and you will look upon my face nevermore!"

Her quivering lip drooped as a single raw tear fell from her eye. Her chest heaved deeply at his very words. Breath steamed from his nose, his heart aching for understanding and the pain this ultimatum brought them both. Slowly, be brought his hand to the wall, placing it beside her head. His forehead rested upon hers.

"Andreth.... do you truly not feel the burning in my heart?" he whispered.

She felt the pain in his voice. Begging her for release of this anguish. His body melded with hers, pressed together by a force unseen. The soft tingle of his thumb slipped along the plump curves of her mouth, parting them with a gentle pull. She yielded, a shudder rumbling through her body, matching the low growls of the thunder outside. Her eyes fluttered closed and her head fell back against the wood, exposing her long, slender neck. His strong palm enclosed around the vulnerable column of her ivory throat. His voice thick and heavy.

"Is there any chance of a love between you and I..." he purred slowly as he added "without surrendering ourselves utterly?"

The weight of his question hung heavy in the air. Then her eyes flickered open, and her breath caught in her throat. The sting of tears welling up spilt from her eyes, and, with a long, resolute sigh, her gaze turned deeply sad. With a calm strength, she gently lifted his arm and slid out from him, leaving him behind. Her form sinking into the ghostly light of the pale moon and torrential rain.

Left alone, he stared silently into the empty void where she had occupied. She had made her decision, and it was crystal clear to him. His glassy eyes mirrored the anguish of one abandoned by hope and love, lost in a labyrinth of ruminations. The thunder roared, a manifestation of the raging storm that consumed him from within. 

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The assault on the innocent was unexpected and brutally savage. Under the cover of darkness, the orcs descended upon the unsuspecting families as they slept in their tents. Screams and roars filled the terror of the night as the victims were brutally slaughtered and eaten. Orcs, minions of the dark lord Morgoth, showed no mercy and left no survivors in their wake. News of this horrific massacre of men, women, and children reached the ears of Boromir, who, weakened by illness, could not pursue justice, and readied his son for his first encounter with the orcs.

Bregor led his forces into battle. With unwavering determination, he launched a surprise attack on the large gathering of orcs, catching them off guard. The initial clash proved to be a gruelling test for the inexperienced Bregor, as he was quickly thrown from his horse. The orcs swiftly gained the upper hand, mercilessly slaughtering the men, one by one. Their bloodcurdling screams echoed through the night as they were torn apart and feasted upon by the orcs' insatiable hunger.

Cornered and outnumbered, Bregor found himself trapped amidst a snarling horde of ravenous beasts. Their yellowed, bloody teeth glistened with primal hunger, poised to feast upon his flesh. His sword was ripped from his trembling grasp. Panic gripped his heart as the orcs, laughing and snarling maniacally closed in, their confidence soaring with each step. Bregor lost his footing, stumbling backwards in a frantic attempt to evade their clutches, their claws and fangs bared, ready to tear him apart. Suddenly, Bregor remembered the elven blade Andreth had given him, a token for his protection, it sat sheathed in its scabbard at his side. He quickly siezed it and pulled it out. A sudden screech of terror erupted from the orcs throats and they jolted back, splitting their ranks. On shaking legs, Bregor stood up. Aegnor's blade held out toward the snarling crowd. Confusion furrowed his dark, sweaty brow as he soon came to realise, it was not him they feared, but what he was holding.

The scent of its original master still reeked from the weapon. Aegnor's very essence, glinting menacingly in the moonless night. Driven by total fear, the orcs quickly disbanded and turned on one another. Their ripped one another apart, organs and blood flew into the air. When their numbers had dwindled to only afew, they fled in terror, running for the mountains. By morning, Bregor had managed to collect what men still remained from the harrowing night, many broken in spirit at the horrors their witnessed. They returned home, their faces and hearts numb and deeply melancholic.

Many nights later, Bregor sat alone on his bed by the roaring fire. The elven blade clutched in his lap. His vacant eyes consumed by the fire. He seemed a man unmade by war and loss. A serene figure entered his bed chambers. Her features soft, and her hair, fair like the summer rain. Variel, always loyal and gentle, had come to comfort her husband.

"It has been three days, my husband, you have not left these walls," her gentle voice spoke "will you not eat with me?"

He paid her no reply. His eyes not lifting from the fire. Variel sighed deeply and kissed the arch of his broad shoulder. Her cerulean eyes, deep and beautiful searched his face, seeking any resemblance of the man she loved.

"I have failed...," he finally whispered. "I have failed you Variel... I can not protect you. Those things... they're not human. They are creatures from the darkest pits," his teary eyes finally dropped from the fire to the blade in his hands. Its glinting edge glittering in the flickering light.

"I was spared.... not by my skill in battle, but by the grace of the Valar who gifted another with abilities I could never hope to have, to strike such fear into the hearts of those monsters that they turn and run from everything he has touched!" He dropped the blade onto the wooden floor, the ominous clank echoed loudly at their feet. Bregors head sank in his hands. His curly black hair framing his eyes. "What kind of man am I that I can not protect my family.

Variel gently took both his hands and turned his face toward hers. His red, weepy eyes regarded her. Her gentle smile and loving gaze reassured her husband of her love.

"Bregolas needs his father, you will lead him to greatness, just as your father did, as his father before him. Men are not measured by the size of his strength, or skill with the blade, but by the strength of his heart. Remember how beloved you are and how much I cherish you." She took his hand and placed it on her breast. The warm, velvet flesh yielded to his touch.

"Do you feel it beating?" She whispered slowly, her intense gaze fixed in his.

Unable to resist his beautiful wife's allure, Bregor slipped his fingers beneath her clothing and groped Variels tender breast, bringing his lips to it. He kissed her breast and heart as soft, rhythmic breaths rose from their throats.

Let me comfort you, my husband," she panted as her face flushed red, "let my body be the vessel for all your worries,"

Bregor needed no persuasion. He took his wife that night and took comfort in her embrace. Variel, with her strong heart and her soft body, became his sanctuary, offering him solace deep within her. With every caress and embrace, she nourished his weary spirit until he reached the pinnacle of release within her, melting away his wearisome burdens and refreshing his troubled soul.

After they surrendered to the ecstasy, they lay intertwined, spent, and utterly content.

○○○

Ladros

382 A.D.

During the following eight months after Bregor's triumph over the orcs, Felagund made arrangements for a momentous event. A gathering of men and elves, to cement their bond and offer distraction from the woes of war. Boromir gathered his family and prepared them for the journey ahead. Despite Variel's round, swollen belly, she insisted on accompanying them. Andreth, on the other hand was reluctant to go.

In a deep melancholy, Andreth packed her essentials for the long trip ahead to Lake Aeluin. Her eyes were diverted to Aegnor's elven blade, sitting on the bed. She stared down at it. Images of him ran through her mind, the fear in his eyes, the pain in his voice, the desire in his touch. She felt nothing but empty regret. She should have lingered in the stables that night... she should have spoke. All the words she could have said. Confessions of her love, of her hate, her dispair in knowing deep down, she could never have him... for he was only just a dream, a beautiful dream... forever far from her reach.

Her fingers traced the contours of the blade in its scabbard. A painful choke tightened her throat and she held it against the warmth of her breast. A faint whiff of his scent still lingered from it. She had lost him forever.

"Andreth? It is Variel, may I come in?" A sweet, muffled voice sounded behind the large oak door. Andreth composed herself and wiped her eyes. She opened the door and Variel entered cradling her obviously full belly, heavy with child. Andreth guided her to her bed and sat her down. She grabbed a footstool and placed it under Variel's feet.

"Oh Andreth, my dear sister, you need not bother with my comfort so much. Your brother fusses enough, I have come here to hide from him," She laughed. Andreth smiled as she settled next to her. Variel caressed her belly tenderly, glowing with happiness. "It shan't be long now, will it little one?" Variel smiled into her abdomen. A tear fell from Andreths eye, and her gaze dropped to the floor in deep sadness. Variel saw her and and her face filled with concern.

"Andreth, what is the matter?"  She asked.

Andreth's tears flooded, and she began to weep. Variel moved closer, hindered by her uncomfortable size.

"There is a secret that weighs heavily upon my heart," Andreth croaked, "a love I have denied myself, a light extinguished by the shadows of my own making,"

Variel reached out, her fingers gently grasping her delicate hands. "Oh, dear Andreth," she breathed, her voice tinged with sorrow, "I did not know... Amidst the joyous anticipation of new life in this house, we failed to see the deep anguish that has been consuming you."

She tenderly brushed a lock of dark hair back and tucked it behind Andreth's ear.

"At times in our most desperate need, our hearts betray us. Perhaps... there is still hope for you?" she spoke. Andreth shook her head and wiped her tears from her nose.

"Nay, not for I," she sniffed, "for I was loved by the fair ones, whose hearts are far guarded, with no hope at a second chance."

Variel looked behind Andreth to Aegnor's blade resting on her bed. Her eyes turned sad and she held her sister while she released the sadness in her heart onto Variels shoulder

At day break, Bregor, Andreth, and Beryl all mounted their horses, ready to embark on their journey to Lake Aeluin. Accompanied by a retinue of servants and guards. Beryl, the youngest and most spirited of the siblings, chattered ceaselessly to Andreth, lamenting her lack of a suitable dress for such an occasion. Despite having a wardrobe filled with luxurious clothing, that surpassed even what Andreth or Variel possessed. However, amid Beryl's abundant words, Andreth's mind was burdened by more pressing concerns, leaving her little room for conversation. She barely exchanged a glance with her younger sister.

They arrived at a brook, Variel dismounted clumsily, eager to quench her thirst for the crystal-clear water. Bregor stood steadfastly by her side, with his hand resting on the hilt of his sword. Guarding his beloved wife as she drank. Andreth, feeling weary from the trip, settled down near a large rock to rest. Yet, her attention was abruptly diverted by Beryl's giggles emanating from the secluded trees. Andreth followed the sound, and as she approached, her heart sank at the sight before her. There stood a young soldier, his lips and hands upon Beryl, as they locked in an intimate embrace. Andreth immediately reached for her blade, and she ran at them, throwing herself between the young soldier and her sister, her face contorted with searing rage. Upon seeing Andreth with her gleaming elven weapon drawn and poised, the young man dropped to his knees, begging for forgiveness. Beryl pleaded with Andreth to spare him.

"If it were my brother in my place, your transgression would have cost you your life!" Andreth hissed, her eyes blazing with fury. "How dare you put your hands on my sister, and defile her when she is not yet of consenting age!" She snarled, advancing toward him. "I dismiss you from our household! Depart now, or you will feel his wrath upon you!"

Without uttering a word, the young man swiftly rose to his feet and fled, leaving Beryl behind in distress.

"Why did you do that?!" Beryl cried. "We were going to be married!" Andreth's righteous anger boiled over as she glared at Beryl.

"Married!? You are fifteen years of age!" Andreth roared.

"Because you reject every suitor who comes to you, does not mean I will carve the same path! I would rather die than become a dried out old maid like you!" Beryl cried.

Andreth gazed at her silently. Her expression fell. Beryl stomped away, leaving her older sister alone to the comfort of the forest sounds.

As dusk settled upon the serene lake, its glassy surface reflected the fading light, enhancing its celestial beauty. It seemed like a portal to another realm, captivating all who laid eyes upon it. The waiting elves greeted the men upon their arrival, their presence added an air of enchantment. In the heart of the camp, a grand fire was being prepared, promising a night of joyous celebration and good cheer.

After dismounting, Bregor set about ensuring the comfort of his wife. As Andreth was speaking to her brother, an elf, tall and fair approached them. His dark hair flowed down his slender frame. Upon his head sat a simple silver circlet. He bowed to Bregor in the traditional elven style, with his arm folded across his chest and his fist upon his heart.

"Bregor, son of Boromir. I am Eríon, a steward of my lord Finrod." He spoke, his voice was like crystal.

"It pleases my heart to meet you. Is he not among us?" Asked the cheerful Bregor.

"My lord has taken to the woodland on a hunt. He will return shortly," he responded.

"He need not worry, we have brought food a plenty with us, the vegetable harvest was generous to us this year,"

"It is a custom among our kind to welcome our guests with offerings from our own hands. And with his brother Aegnor leading the hunt, they are sure to return with an impressive bounty,"

Andreth's gaze lightened up. He swiftly departed to return to the preparations, Andreth ran after his and siezed the elf by his slender arm.

"Pardon lord, but did you say that Aegnor was with him?" She asked.

"You are not mistaken, lady," he replied. "To see all three of the sons of Finarfin together is a welcome sight. One worthy of marking," He bowed slightly, expressing his desire to end their conversation and continued on his way.

Her heart pounded in her chest. Immediate regret set in. She should not have come, she should have stayed in Ladros, far from him. She could not face him now. Finally, the soft rumble of galloping hooves from the treeline met their ears. Cheering grew as all eyes cast the darkening woodlands. Side by side in a perfect line, three horses appeared. On their backs sat Finrod, Angrod, and Aegnor. Strapped behind them lay their spoils. Three impressive deer carcasses. Their pelts, thick and shiny.

They trotted their steeds into the camp in a perfect line that slowed to a walk. All three brothers dismounted in perfect synchrony. Andreth took refuge behind the cloth of a tent. Her eyes fixed upon Aegnor. He dismounted with one powerful swing of his leg, dropping onto the floor and into the waiting arms of his admirers. All eager to greet their beloved lord. Arm clasps and prolonged embraces envelop him at his every turn. A broad, captivating grin stretched upon his face. He seemed to her in that moment, so completely happy. It was as though he had forgotten all about the anguish that once plagued him.

"Perhaps...I have spared him, and I had made the right choice," she said to herself, her sad eyes matching her tone. He was soon completely hidden from her view. Long melded with the crowd.

After taking a private moment to collect herself, she emerged from her secluded spot behind the tent. She noticed the bright smiles on everyone's faces and the shimmering glow of Finrod in conversation with her brother and his wife in the distance. In her gown of deep crimson, she joined the crowd of men and women around the fire. Noise and laughter faded around her as she walked serenely through them. There was no where she could hide.

The big central fire illuminated her. She seemed to glow in its glory. Undeniably beautiful, she was, yet, so very sad. She felt so alone. Utterly lost in this world without him. It was in this great time of sadness and need that she felt a powerful presence standing behind her. She slowed to a stop and slowly turned around, her movements like that of a delicate swan gliding upon tranquil waters. Gazing down into her fragile dark eyes, Aegnor stood before her. They gazed at one another for a long, silent pause as the sound around them drew out. The fire illuminated his face, utterly divine and breathtaking. Her lip quivered as she held back her tears. Joy and sorrow overcame her, washing her away. Aegnor was stoic, yet his eyes betrayed his fragile heart

"I understand if you do not wish to see me, nor speak a word to me," her fragile voice whispered between them. "Should you choose to take your leave, I will not hold it against you, Aegnor,"

He stood unmoving. His unyielding gaze never shifting. Then he took a lingering step toward her. He reached and delicately clasped Andreth's hand in both of his held it to his chest.

"Lady," he murmured softly, his gaze warm and fragile. "And just where will I go?"

Her teary eyes were on their hands, and she burst into weeps. Silence enveloped them, rendering words unnecessary as Aegnor bestowed upon her hand a gentle kiss.

"Oh my dearest friend," she croaked. "I do not deserve you," her smiled glowed with joy, beaming between them. Aegnor responded with a smile of his own coupled with a gentle gaze.

"No more tears, let us linger on the past no longer." he replied gently. She nodded and wiped her eyes

Bregor approached them. His palms filled with two chalices and wearing a dazzling grin. "Aegnor!" He cried joyfully.

He handed one cup to Aegnor and the other he placed in Andreth's hands. The sweet, delightful smell teased her senses, and she gazed into its rich, dark red contents.

"What a great night it is to be alive!" Bregor grinned, elated "there is no greater a protector for my sister than you! I wish to make it official that you are her undisputed champion!"

"I am tempted to accept such an offer," he smiled. An air of unwavering confidence seeped from him. Aegnor smiled broadly and clasped arms with Andreths brother, "and I extend my congratulations to your wife on the coming arrival of a second precious child!"

"Truthfully, had you not gifted your blade to Andreth, I would not be alive to see the birth. I owe the its very existence to your sake alone."

With a warm smile, Aegnor inclined his head, appreciatively. "Variel is a treasure, cherish her," Aegnor smiled at Bregor.

"Though I am my sisters official guardian, tonight I give her to you entirely. Drink with her and be merry; I encourage it," His countenance radiated an approving smile of profound magnitude and sincere affection.

Turning to Andreth before bidding them farewell, he witnessed her visage flushed with utmost embarrassment, which only served to elicit a brotherly, mischievous smile. He winked at her and left. Aegnor erupted into jovial laughter at Andreth's raw blush. Their mirth resounding with unabashed delight.

"I have never seen your brother so happy!" Aegnor chuckled warmly.

"It is his duty to become a father," she smiled. Aegnor's smile turned to a frown, and his eyes fell to the cup in his hand filled with wine.

He paused, sadness shrouded him completely. His hands tensed around his cup.

"This is a matter that is close to your heart. Do you long to be a father, Aegnor" She asked slowly

His eyes lifted once more to her. His jaw clenched as if the words he was about to speak carried the weight of a thousand worlds.

"It is my deepest desire... to have a family if my own someday... I would willingly surrender all I possess for such a joy." he murmured. A warm hand rested on his forearm as she offered him a comforting touch.

"You above all others deserve this, but you must first believe it also." She muttered, leaning in to him. Aegnor's eyes swelled with unshed tears, and he clung to her every word. "Look towards the dawn, as sure as the sun rises in the sky, you will have all you desire,"

His lips pulled into a fragile smile as his eyes poured into her all his burdens. his gaze held in hers, raised his cup, inviting Andreth to do the same.

"To the dawn," he proclaimed, "and to liberty!"

The glittering silver of the raised cups caught the flickering light of the grand fire. As the chalices met with a harmonious clink. They drank in unison. She was but into her second gulp when her head started spinning. The muscles in her face relaxed and she felt increasingly unwell. She tried to speak but her words were incoherent and slurred. Blissfully unaware, as Aegnor finished off the final sips in his chalice, he finally opened his eyes and saw Andreths state rapidly deteriorating. He grabbed her to steady her feet.

"Andreth??" He called

She looked at him, utterly confused like she was suddenly aware of him. The chalice slipped from her hand, and crashed onto the ground, spattering on Aegnors boots. Aegnor scooped it up and brought the chalice to his nose, and sniffed it. A distinct and unmistakable scent wafted from it, the realization dawned upon him. He glared down into it, his face tense with rage. Aegnor scooped her in his strong grasp before she hit the ground, his arms enveloping her inebriated form in a protective embrace. With utmost care, he guided her away from the prying onlookers and called for his brother.

"Angrod!" Aegnor cried, ("Angrod! Come now!")

Angrod appeared from the crowd as Andreth was being pulled through it

("She has drank from your cursed supply!") Aegnor snarled, harsh elvish words rumbled from his throat like thunder. ("Bring the Eldarvine! Now!") He ordered.

Angrod hastily ran to make the elixir, a creation of his own making to swiftly counteract extreme intoxication from elven wine.

They came but afew steps from Aegnor's spacious tent on the outskirts of the camp before Andreth could walk no more and had to be carried inside. Finally alone, Aegnor placed her gently upon a chair. In the quiet moment, alone in his tent, Aegnor worked tirelessly to keep her from slipping into unconsciousness. Andreth was utterly confused, she could not discern friend from foe, nor where she was. Finally Angrod appeared, he came rushing through the billowing sheets, holding out a chalice of the elixir. Aegnor swiftly seized it from his hand and held it to her lips, encouraging her to drink every drop. She did so and allowed it to pour down her throat. Once Aegnor had emptied every drop into her, she coughed and fell limp. Her head falling on his shoulder. Her face buried into his neck and gently, he comforted her as Angrod watched on.

("I will inform Bregor,") said Angrod as he turned to calmly leave.

("No!") Aegnor protested ("You will cause unnecessary distress. It was an honest mistake,")

Alarmed, Angrod retorted, ("unnecessary distress? Consuming even a single gulp of our wine could have ended her days here on Middle Earth due to his poor judgement!")

("Recall brother!") Aegnor snapped, his glare laced with venom, ("my strong disapproval of bringing that cursed draught in the first place! The only poor judgement I see is yours!")

("How dare you!") Angrod growled, his lip curling with aggressive rage. ("Do you, in your feeble head, dare to suggest that I bear the responsibility for this?!")

("I mean to say that Andreth need not be made a casualty of your obsessive affection for liquor!")

("Such words from you!") Angrod roared.

The brothers clashed in a vicious argument, Elvish words darting like swords clashing from Aegnor's tent. Soon Finrod arrived and entered the tent. His lithe form parting the sheets gracefully. Hands clasped in front of him in a regal stance.

"Angrod, Aegnor... this is a night of joy and celebration, I beg you both put aside your petty squabbling for this night, for the sake of our mortal guests," Finrod addressed his hot tempered brothers. His calming presence halting their heated vpices dead in their tracks. Angrod however was far from done with his insolent younger brother. He glared at Aegnor, his neck hammering with tension.

("Yes brother, I may have an affection for wine...") He hissed, his voice laced with stinging toxins, ("however, you are the only one of us whose sole comfort is found at the bottom of a goblet!")

The sting in Aegnor's eyes was telling as he stared up at his brother in the aftermath of his cruel words. His wounded expression falling to the ground. Angrod turned to take his leave.

"Angrod..." Finrod protested as he passed him.

("Do not give me that pitiful look Finrod!") Angrod snarled, ("you know of its truth!")

He stomped away leaving them behind. Finrod turned back to Aegnor, consumed with sadness, proving that Angrod's harsh words were no lie. Aegnor did not meet his gaze. He held Andreth tenderly as Finrod watched on. He saw how Aegnor cared for her like no other being before. He watched as he cradled her limp body in the chair. Stroking her hair and face as it was buried deep into his neck. A sudden sunken feeling gripped Finrod as Aegnor's words to him in Norgothrond filled his mind. The cogs began to turn in his head as he remembered his own response to Aegnor's confessions. Suddenly, Finrod was consumed with a deep sence of dread.

"Akanarö..." Finrod spoke slow and deep. Aegnor turned his head to regard Finrod slowly, his watery eyes fixed on him with a look of concern. Finrod was addressing him by his child name. Only their father did that whenever Aegnor had disappointed him. Finrod braced himself for the question he did not wish to ask.

Just then, Andreth suddenly stirred, lifting her drowsy head from Aegnor's shoulder.

"Andreth... it is me! Aegnor," he muttered. Blinking rhythmically, she regarded the elf crouched before her, "do not be alarmed... all is well. You are safe," he said softly as her confused gaze stared blankly into his.

"I feel... light..." she whispered.

"Do not worry, It will pass. You unwittingly consumed elvish wine, but it has been remedied. You are out of danger," he smiled tenderly.

"Thank you," her tender whisper ghosted between them. Finrod watched as Aegnor helped her to her feet. Her legs shaking, she lost balance and Aegnor had to stabilise her. Her eyes fell upon Finrod who stood quietly at a distance. A tinge of embarrassment crossed her brow and she passed him a flustered smile.

"Lord Finrod!" She gasped, "forgive me... I did not see you standing there.."

Finrod mustered a faint smile. With measured composure, he spoke carefully.

"I am relieved to see you well again Andreth, thanks to the swift action of Aegnor. Return to the festivities and enjoy the remainder of the evening,"

With Aegnors help, Andreth slowly made her way to the exit and returned to the encampment without anyone noticing her misfortunate episode, leaving Finrod alone in Aegnor's tent. His heavy thoughts consumed in the silence.

As the grand feast unfolded, the lords' triumphant hunt had yielded a bounty of venison, tender and succulent, which watered the palates of those eager to sample a taste. Andreth greedily devoured her portion. Sitting on the grass close to the grand centre fire that illuminated the entire camp, she savoured every bite of the tender venison on her plate as well as the abundance of grapes and other delicious foods.

Aegnor held his cup to his mouth, masking a slight smile as he watched her eat. Like a ravenous wolf, she moaned and grunted softly as she chomped away unapologetically, having no regard for decorum befitting a proper lady. His eyes playful, but slightly intense witnessed her finish her plate with a loud suck on her fingers, licking the last residue from her delicious meal. Then, as if she cast off all inhibitions, grasped her chalice of a fruity beverage and gulped it down greedily, lifting the cup higher. It was then her eyes caught Aegnor's and she slowly lowered her cup, they gazes locked.

"What?" She asked, utterly unaware.

Aegnor wheezed with suppressed laughter, near spitting into his wine. He reached for her plate and secured a small left over morsel of venison and flicked it into his mouth and in a light hearted jest, yanked his thumb from his mouth with a loud smack, mimicking her. She bubbled into bashful laughter, shared with Aegnor.

"I was never one for decorum and etiquette befitting my station," She admitted sheepishly

"Nor am I," Aegnor chuckled with a brazen, unapologetic swig of his drink. Her eyes lingered on him, utterly besotted with his beauty and his confidence.

The large central fire, a divine entity in its own right, waged a valiant battle against the chill of the night and the darkness of the surrounding forest. The nearby lake, bathed in the glittering shimmer of starlight in the blackness just beyond the trees. Andreth and Aegnor found themselves reinacting a beloved memory they once shared before.

"I must admit, Aegnor, I was surprised when you suggested this game to me. I thought such simplicity was beneath you," she teased as her fingers hovered above his.

"Fair lady!" Aegnor replied playfully, almost insulted, "it is a game that requires cunning and a deft wit!" He quipped.

"Oh Aegnor...," she laughed. She reached for her cup and took a drink as Aegnor did also, "I almost fear I shall wake up soon to discover this was all just another dream,"

His eyes lifted to her over the rim of his goblet. A glance so mesmerizing, it made her shudder. He placed his cup filled with elvish wine down at his side upon the grass.

"Years ago, I bid my freedom on a little girl, I lost that wager," he spoke solemly, "I am bound by oath for all my days. My life is devoted to her service,"

"Aegnor, you have already proven your devotion to me, a multitude of times, yet..." She paused, her eyes fixed on the glow of the fire. "I know not how to prove mine..,"

His eyes lingered intensely on her, caressing his chin in deep thought. Then, he took another swig from his wine and set it down again. He shifted his body slightly to face her completely, crossing his legs comfortably. He then held out his palms upright, inviting her to join him in another game.

"Shall we play again? Only this time, I propose a wager"

Pausing, her gaze squinted with suspicion, she passed him a mischievous smile.

"And what shall be the stakes...?" She asked

"The victor..." he answered slowly, the corners of his mouth curling slight in a taut smirk, "will ask the loser a single question. And they must recieve a truthful answer. No boundaries... and no secrets."

Andreths eyes sparked with intrigue, her body tensed and her smile grew wide.

"Are you sure you wish to wager that against me Aegnor? To gamble the secrets of your own heart for intimate knowledge of me...? Who am I to resist such a prospect. For there are things I have longed to know about you,"

Aegnor smirked, his eyes burning with intense heat as he met her challenge

"Expend your efforts to secure your victory, and I will satisfy your curiousity, but a word of warning: I do not give away such things without a fight," he smirked

Andreth steadied her palms above his, signalling the commencement of their play. Time seemed to hold its breath. Andreth, her heart pounding, saught to calm her nerves. She must secure a win. Her nerves faltered and she lost concentration. In an instant, Aegnor's adept fingers deftly captured hers without much effort. She had failed to evade his grasp. She had lost this round.

Panic set in and she quickly took a drink to calm her nerves. She cast a wide eyes glance at Aegnor, nervous with anticipation. Slowly, she relented, her voice dripping with palpable tension. She took a trembling breath.

"What is your question?" She asked nervously. He started slow, his voice low and soft, then he began.

"It is customary among your kind to celebrate the birth of a new life, while neglecting the act that brought it into existence. You choose to remember labour and toil of birth over the pleasure of bedding. The eldar do not see it the same. Why does such a disparity exist?" He asked softly

Andreth was speechless to summon a response. Of all the things she was expecting him to ask, it was not this! She fumbled desperate to explain such an bold question that she knew not how to.

"I...I do not know," she muttered, her face flushing with embarrassment, "I suppose the conception of our children is a draw of mere chance. It is impossible to know exactly when the moment a new baby is created, only that is has been."

He knodded slowly, seemingly satisfied with his answer. She held out her slender palms between them, initiating round two of their game of questions.

His fingers suspended above hers and the round began. Her breath trembled loudly. Her heart drumming inside her chest. Her sweaty palms glistening in the soft flickering light. Their fingertips barely grazing, Aegnor's was as still as the night air. He sensed the utter desperation seeping through her and he liked it.

"Alas Aegnor, I can not win against you, I see no other option for me but to forfeit and declare you the victor..," she finally said, her voice trembling.

He looked up from their hands and stared at her. Suddenly, Aegnor felt firm fingers grabbing his, locking them between hers. His eyes darted downwards to see he had been tricked. He regarded Andreths wide victorious grin, betrayal in his eyes.

"You cheated,"

"Tis my game, silly elf!" She replied with a gloating smile, "there are no rules in war,"

In one arrogant swoop, he raised his chalice of wineto his lips again and held it there, covering his mouth, he silently awaited her question. The atmosphere crackled with undeniable tension. He observed her nibbling her lower lip, her mind deep in contemplation. She was readying herself to ask the question that hung between them. His nerves grew in equal measure.

"Have you..." she stopped, panic and curiousity warring within her. Finally her eyes raised to meet his in a sudden boldness that took her, "ever tasted the sweet lips of a maiden in a pasionate kiss before?"

He blinked and the chalice slowly slipped from his parted lips. As if ankther force took hold of her, she was unable to stop.

"All your thoughts surrendered... beneath the scorching touch of lovers hands upon you?" She breathed

His head listed and his eyes widened slightly catching the glittering light of the fire, they glowed with their own golden, silver light as his gaze fixed on her with unwavering focus. Panic suddenly replaced her unexpected confidence and she withdrew, regretting her boldness in asking such a brazen question. Just as she could not take the silence anymore, Aegnor leaned forward, bringing his face closer to hers.

"The rule was only one question... that was two questions you asked," he purred softly.

Trembling, she awaited her answer. His soft smile slowly faded, replaced by an intense smoulder. His eyes fell upon his cup of elvish wine nesting in his hands. He gently swirled the rich liquid around inside, as if carefully considering his words. Andreth could only wait with a patience she did not have.

"Yes..." his soft reply, barely a mumble, flowed from his lips like butter. His answer hung between them, stilling the air with a heavy silence. Finally, his eyes lifted to meet hers again. He leaned in again, "and yes..."

A ghostly gasp barely brushed her lips, her body tingled with electrifying charges. Her cheeks, red and hot, burned like flame. Her mouth pulled into a blushing lasvicious grin, one she tried to hide. In an almost childlike wonder, she swiftly extended her hands once again expressing her eagerness for another round and another chance at winning her prize. Highly amused, a chuckle burst from his nostrils, shattering his carefully held composer. The elvish wine slowly chipping away at his heavily guarded reserves. He lifted his cup and took a slow, deliberate drink. Each intoxicating gulp dulled his sences, lulling him with its comforting glow. As his head back tilted further and further, he showed Andreth a glimpse of his true nature. The full display of his taut elven throat glistened in the warm light, a sight that utterly captured her attention. She watched as his throat contracting and relaxing with every greedy gulp. When he had claimed every last drop from his cup, he set it down and regarded her with a sleepy, sultry gaze and extended his palms.

"You challenged me with two questions, and I granted you the knowledge of both. And so, I shall respond in kind," he declared confidently, his words infused with a unguarded playfulness, "two questions, two answers, to the victor shall go the spoils," he murmured

As the final round commenced, an air of determination enveloped them both, their eyes locked in a gaze that transcended mere competition. Andreth's gaze rose, meeting Aegnor's penetrating stare, and within their depths, she was captivated by a kaleidoscope of colours. The roaring fire cast its golden light, casting a soft, flickering dance of shadows upon his visage. She felt a surge of anticipation, knowing that there were untold secrets concealed within him she longed to uncover.

Lost in the depths of their silent exchange, Andreth's attention was drawn to the sensation of slow, warmth enveloping her fingers. His fingertips danced along the folds of her fingers, a tender caress, and she witnessed the slow intertwining, and his hand clasped hers in a gentle squeeze, melding their palms together. Their breaths slowed, synchronizing in rhythm, their hearts pounding within them. Yet, Andreth, overwhelmed with emotion, withdrew from his hold, jerking her hand away as tears spilled from her eyes.

"Andreth?" he whispered tenderly.

"You have won, Aegnor," she smiled, utterly overwhelmed, her tears staining her face. "Ask your final two questions, and just as promised, I will answer them,"

Gazing deeply into her eyes, absorbing every detail of her face, Aegnor paused for a lingering moment, then slowly, raising his hand, he caressed the contours of her face in a light, flirtatious gesture of adoration.

"Are you certain, Andreth?" he asked.

"yes," she replied.

Aegnor finally asked, "My first question..," he paused for thought, "is akin to yours,"

She shook her head quietly, "no..." she whispered, "my my lips and my body are untouched by any man. All hopeful to claim me, I have rejected. All for the sake of one who has captured my heart and no other will I suffer," she paused, her heart pounding, "and it is you, Aegnor,"

A silence unfolded between them as the roar of the flame blew. He took her hand and pulled it close to his chest. He looked behind his shoulder to an area that led out of the camp and into the dark, silent surrounding trees. He turned back, rebellious locks of glistening gold bangs streaked over his eyes, glinting with anticipation. His upper lip drawing into a barely contained, anticipating smile.

Andreth observed the darkness and grew tense. Aegnor, sensing her hesitation, reassured her fears, "fear not the cloak of darkness Andreth, you are with me," he whispered, "have I not proven to you that I am more than capable of protecting you?"

She released a deep, trembling sigh. "Though the darkness will always frighten me, I place my complete trust in you, Aegnor," she trembled with anticipation, "lead the way,"

Aegnor led them away from the encampment, the night's chill enveloping them instantly. Andreth instinctively pulled her arms into her body, seeking warmth. In the pure darkness, illuminated only by the ethereal glow of pale starlight, Aegnor, his hand in hers, guided them through the thick forest. He pulled her deeper into the woods, his other hand resting on the sward at his hip, ready to defend his lady from any sudden movement. Finally, they came to the shore of the lake. The water's surface glistened with twinkling starlight, captivating their gazes.

Unable to resist the shimmering lake's allure, Andreth pulled from Aegnor's gentle grasp and extended her hand, dipping it into the celestial waters. The icy touch jolted through her fingertips, the ripples cascading over reflected stars—a mesmerizing dance of light. As she knelt, her black hair veiled starlight gleaming on the reflective surfaces, seeming to hold a star entwined in her glorious locks.

Beholding the sight, Aegnor's breath left his body entirely. More beautiful, she seemed to him than any elven princess his eyes ever witnessed. Andreth slowly rose, gracing Aegnor with a serene smile revealing the intense longing in his soul to merge with hers—a sensation blending profound agony and exquisite bliss unlike anything before.

"What is your final question, Aegnor?" Her siren-like voice called directly to him, bewitching in its charm. His silence in beholding her was telling, for in that moment, he was utterly bereft of words and of thought.

She stepped closer closing the space between them with a boldness she knew not she had. Her hungry eyes, black as a night without stars locked in his. His tense fingers raised to her head and combed down her beautiful, black veil of hair. She heard the soft trembles in his breath, their hearts racing in perfecr harmony, he finally spoke

"Beautiful Andreth... how you have enthralled me. Do you willingly accept my heart, and my lips... in return for yours? Laying down all guard and glory to my authoriry, for all eternity,"

"Yes," was the purr from her mouth between parted lips. Breaths entwined and mingled in the gentle air and finally, Aegnors lips enveloped hers as tender as rain drops on velvet petals. All that could be heard was the ghostly tremble of Andreth gasping as elven lips closed around hers in a breathless kiss. Her body felt limp, wrapped in his embrace. At first it was soft and tender, barely a peck. He broke from her lips and the deep rumbles of his breath vibrated from deep in his throat. Then, Andreth felt a warm, large hand clasping the slender collumn of her throat both passionately and possessively. She yielded completely to his hold, her eyes daring him. Then, Aegnor cast off all inhabitions and claimed her mouth entirely in a deep and passionate kiss. Cresting waves of intense pleasure, sensations never known before, crashed through them, taking them away in their currents. They surrendered their very depths.

She nestled delicately into his chest as he cradled her in his arms, their souls entwined in the tapestries of newfound love. Aegnor revelled in this ethereal elation, determined to protect their bond with unwavering resolve. Finrod's words of encouragement resonated like a resounding bell in his mind, fuelling his determination to embrace this love within his heart. From that moment on, he would destroy anything that threatened to tear them asunder. He would fight for her. He would die for her, and no force was going to take her away from him.

Overwhelmed with love, they embraced and kissed, this time without reserve. Their joyous laughter echoing through the encompassing darkness of the trees. A solitary figure stood cloaked in shadow, a witness to their union. Soon, they departed, returning to the security and the warmth of the camp. Blissfully unaware of his presence.

Finrod, his face drained of colour, his eyes brimming with tears of profound sadness watched in anguish. The torment of despair bore down upon him, and he pressed his forehead against a nearby tree. Tears streamed down his cheeks, mingling with his deep, sorrowful sobs. The distant rumble of thunder bellowed from the sky. An omen that rattled the heavens. Foreshadowing the doom that would befall such a love. Aegnor's fate seemed sealed, and Finrod shouldered the burden of blame entirely. He had failed his beloved brother, ensnared him in a trap from which there would be no escape.

"How could I have been so foolish... how had I not foreseen this?" His own thoughts scolded him.

Thanks to Aegnor's gift of stealth, silently and effortlessly, they slipped back into the bustling encampment, their return unnoticed amidst the enchanting revelry of the dance. Suddenly, a mellifluous voice resonated through the air, cutting through the jubilant melodies.

"Sister!" Bregor's deep, velvety tones called out, carrying a sense of urgency. He hastened towards them, his steps propelled by a mixture of concern and eagerness. "Andreth! I have been tirelessly searching for you. Were you in the company of Lord Aegnor all this while?"

A fleeting exchange of glances between Aegnor and Andreth ignited a delicate blush upon their cheeks, and their laughter intertwined, echoing in harmonious unison. "What is it that you seek, dear Bregor?" Andreth jested, her mirth dancing upon her lips.

"A dance!" Bregor exclaimed with radiant affection, his eyes brimming with warmth. "Variel is indisposed, and we are all aware of Beryl's two left feet and lack of grace!"

Nodding appreciatively, she gracefully departed from his side, seamlessly merging into the sea of bodies swaying in a symphony of elegance. Bregor lingered behind.

"Aegnor," Bregor spoke. "I am not ignorant of the depth of affection you carry for my sister, and it extends beyond mere companionship. You are utterly enamoured with her." Aegnor, ever composed and resolute, met Bregor's gaze with unwavering sincerity, his eyes unblinking and steadfast. In that unspoken moment, a subtle nod affirmed the truth of Bregor's words, solidifying the unspoken bond between them.

"I confess, my love for the maiden transcends beyond the boundaries of Arda," Aegnor admitted softly, his words laced with tenderness. A gracious smile graced Bregor's countenance.

"Ah, I have long perceived its depth," Bregor nodded, his smile suffused with affectionate understanding. "Among all men, none could rival you as a noble match for my cherished sister. Aegnor, rest assured that you possess my wholehearted approval, and my eternal blessing," As he spoke, Bregor's hand found its place upon Aegnor's solid shoulder, a firm grip that conveyed both brotherly acceptance and trust.

Aegnor responded with a subtle, gracious nod. He watched as Bregor departed, making his way towards Andreth, who awaited him at a modest distance. Aegnor's gaze remained serene as he beheld the ethereal sight of his beloved, gracefully moving in tandem with her brother, her dance embodying the effortless elegance of a dove suspended in mid-flight

As he stood there, immersed in her beauty, a familiar presence approached beside him. Aegnor could discern the identity without needing to meet the figure's gaze. An offering was extended—a goblet brimming with wine—yet Aegnor chose to disregard it. His gaze was unbreaking from the flurry of dancers. A veil of shame and remorse shadowed the countenance of the offering, revealing the depths of his regret.

"Please forgive me, Aegnor," he begged. Aegnor's gaze finally met his, revealing eyes marred by the scars of wounded pride and simmering anger. "I spoke out of turn and out of my spite. I know of the wounds you content with. Never will I speak of them again."

Angrod's pleading gaze and vulnerable words broke Aegnor's hardened yet fragile gaze. The ire in Aegnor's eyes yielded to a serene lucidity, a tranquil understanding. A gentle smile graced his lips, and a single fragile tear cascaded down his cheek.

In that moment, a tender gesture unfolded between the two brothers. Angrod extended a soothing touch, his hand gliding tenderly over Aegnor's head, offering solace and reassurance. Aegnor, his heart buoyed by the warmth of that affectionate gesture, reciprocated with a playful nudge, gently deflecting his brother's hand. Smiling with playful embarrassment.

"When the war has abated, there lies a revelation I long to share with you," Aegnor declared, his voice carrying an air of anticipation.

"Aegnor, could it have finally come to be? Has an elusive enchantress finally ensnared your heart!?" Angrod exclaimed, his eyes alight with a contagious fervour.

Bestowing upon Angrod a lingering, teasing smile, Aegnor withdrew from him, leaving his question unanswered, plunging Angrod into a state of delightful suspense. Eagerly, Angrod pursued his brother, his unspoken demand for an answer palpable in the air.

Chapter End Notes

Thank you all who have enjoyed part 1 of this tale. I will be uploading part 2 in the coming week.

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