One Flesh, One Soul. Part I by FellFireFan

In the celestial expanse, two stars merged as one, entwined in darkness. A star of such brilliance outshone all others in the vastness of silent space. It broke into two separate pieces. Dancing across the sky in an eternal bliss, casting them to the earthly plain below, forging the hearts of soulmates destined to be apart until the day fate would bring them together, to make them whole again. A reunion of soulmates, whose fates entwined, destined to never be apart.

Angband 

455 A.D

    Amidst the engulfing flames that devoured the fallen and stained the grass with blood, the stars, cast their dwindling light upon the valiant souls lost in the violent tempest, bore witness to 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, Aegnor lay motionless. Depleted of strength, he calmly awaited his end. A noble elven prince was he, a mighty warrior, a tall stock cut down, he awaited his grim fate. A chilling calmness enveloped him, bereft of fear, void of anger and pain. He felt not but numb, empty, and silent.

    The fading warmth of life leaves his feeble, broken body, once a bastion of unwavering might. Gasping for his final breaths, his weary eyes fixed upon the stars that now shone brighter than ever, tears welled up and trickled down his worn cheeks. Amidst the endless, black expanse, he beheld in his eyes a vision twinkling in stars.  A face appeared to him like a bittersweet dream— frozen in a memory most beloved to him. Her form sparkled before him, drawing closer as the stars adorned the black tresses of her flowing celestial locks as black as the night without stars. Slowly, the once mighty elf reached upward into the vast expanse. Reaching out his hand to the vision of the maiden he was forced to abandon.

    He could think of nothing but her, how he had failed her, in every possible way. Summoning the last vestiges of his strength, he could scarce muster a single quiet whisper. A name that would carry his heavy regrets and the love in his heart for the maiden who his feä forever and would always pine for.

"Andreth..." 

○○○

 Maedhros' Pass

 355 A.D

(One hundred years earlier)

   The elves valiantly held their ground against the ceaseless onslaught of orcs, their blades cutting through the enemy ranks with unwavering determination. Amidst the chaos, a towering figure emerged, distinguished by long, copper hair tightly braided down his back. With every move, he exuded a combination of grace and precision, effortlessly dispatching the orcs that crossed his path. 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. 

     Yet, Maedhros stood resolute, unyielding to the intimidating display before him. The deep scar etched upon the side of his handsome face bore witness to the harrowing trials he had endured, further fuelling his indomitable spirit. As the orc and elf clashed, their eyes locked in a fierce gaze.  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, his every strike precise and deadly.

   In an act of brute force, the orc tripped Maedhros and seized him by the throat, squeezing with all his might. Maedhros, his teeth clenched, writhed and struggled, but he couldn't break free from the orc's vice-like grip. Just as hope began to fade, the sound of a distant horn echoed through the trees. The orcs abruptly ceased their fighting, and the commander's eyes darted around, filled with fear. He turned his gaze to his captive, and Maedhros flashed the orc a wicked, toothy grin, confirming the arrival of the orc's worst fear.

     Movement stirred in the trees, and a multitude of elves burst forth from the dark depths, joined by a small band of men. Riding fiercely at the forefront were Angrod and Aegnor, the sons of Finarfin. Their radiant hair, a trademark of their noble house, flowed behind them like a vibrant river of sunlight. The orc released Maedhros, retreating slowly in the face of the approaching wall of horses. Withò one thing only! They never learn that we are many!" He greeted him with a firm clasp of the arm.

  "And we are mighty!" Maedhros smiled proudly.

  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, the lord of Ladros, 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," 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. 

  "Aegnor, I have a family to protect, and my people to safeguard... I fear... is Dorthonion safe?" 

   Aegnor looked at him with sincerity. His eyes, once fierce with anger, now radiated a different kind of brilliance, calm, striking, and utterly beautiful. Aegnor flashed a reassuring smile and firmly placed his hand on Boromir's 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, finding solace in Aegnor's comforting words. A brief moment of affection passed between the elf and the man until Aegnor's attention was abruptly captured by movement within the fallen orcs. He quickly dismissed him and approached the crawling body of the fallen orc commander who, upon seeing him, hastened his efforts to escape. 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 from ear to ear. The screeching immediately ceased, and he slammed the limp orc's body to the ground with a resounding thud.

  "Boromir!" Aegnor called out, turning back to him, walking away. "May I convey my heartfelt compliments on the new birth of your son! May he be blessed!"

  "A son has already been born to me, my lord!" Boromir yelled out in response, smiling proudly. "I welcome now a daughter!" 

   "The sun and stars shine upon your precious daughter!" He chirped, bowing. Before turning on his heels and strutting away to join his brother in the distance. 

 ○○○

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 nestled on plush cushions, his back supported by the wall beside a grand marble fireplace, he basked in the soft glow 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, beloved by elven mothers. The addition of tiny, shimmering beads transformed the blanket into a masterpiece, destined to bring boundless joy to any fortunate young girl who would receive it. With nimble fingers, he skilfully wove the glistening silver thread through the intricate beading. His voluminous, tangled blonde hair cascaded freely, partially veiling his beautiful face and flowing down his shoulders and back.

    ("The king has called a meeting of the Princes of the realms,") Angrod's deep, rich voice broke the tranquillity, emerging from the shadows, interrupting Aegnor's much relished peace time. He plopped down beside him. Drawing his parted knees up and resting his arms on his knees, Angrod sighed defeatedly, the elvish words flowed effortlessly from his lips, sending rich echoes into the hall. ("I fear Morgoth has him worried,")

   Clad in comfortable silk dress robes of matching style. Angrod's a deep blue and silver, pulled tight and neat around his resplendent form, while Aegnor's wrapped loose and open, exposing the glistening skin of his chest beneath, draped in a vibrant red and gold. Aegnor, who hadn't bothered to even lift his head, continued his delicate work. Angrod's eyes shifted to his brother, who had not bid him even a nod of acknowledgement. His focus shifted to the creation in his lap. He watched as Aegnor's fingers moved delicately over the blanket, weaving and threading with intense focus. Curious, he asked who the intended recipient was.

    ("It is for Lord Boromir and his wife, a gift to commemorate the arrival of their precious burden,") Aegnor replied steadily, his elvish words danced in the air with a melodious quality. ("Although they focus solely on the birth of a child and not the act of begetting it, which in itself is a curious novelty,") he answered

  ("Ahh...the festival of gifts! I had almost forgotten. Many of us have suffered great change since we left the fair havens for this land. But Aegnor, The Defender of Tradition! The true champion of the Noldor!") Angrod teased, his amused smirk widening. 

  ("What joy lies in the burdens that weigh upon those who have not tasted the delights of childhood. A time that should be spent in happiness, surrounded by those who dote upon you, lavishing you with love and gift!") Aegnor replied. His gaze soft as he weaved the thread into his creation

  ("Like you have?")

  Aegnor slowly plucked the glistening silver pendant that hung around his bare chest through an opening in his loose clothes. He brought it to his plump lips and tenderly kissed its warm surface. With a saddened look in his eyes, he released its brilliance upon his flesh once more. There was a momentary pause and changing the topic, Aegnor inquired if Angrod was crafting something for his own son Orodreth, and Angrods' response came in a playful scoff.     

   ("Should Orodreth be engulfed in the crashing tides of a furious river, and his sole means of deliverance rested in my tender embrace, he would not soon opt for the latter,") He laughed

   ("Who am I to cast blame?") Aegnor replied candidly. ("For should such a challenge ever be presented to me, to be embraced by my own brothers tender arms or face the onslaught of a raging, frigid lake, rest assured my dear Angrod, I would be the first to jump!") 

   Laughter burst from Angrod. His mouth stretched into an alluring grin, Aegnor revealed a row of glistening white teeth dazzling between a pair of captivating lips. His smile slowly waned once again and the tip of Aegnor's languid tongue slipped along the curves of his plump lips. Moistening their velvety surface, his eyes once again lost in his creation. 

  ("It is unusual for us to craft such an intimate treasure, Aegnor. Are such offerings not reserved for our own offspring?")

   ("This is true, brother. However, Boromir has been a trusted friend to me for many years. And, he is a good-hearted man, I have come to greatly esteem him. I can partake in this joy through him when I have no children of my own.") Aegnor replied. 

   ("Why have you not yet taken a wife from any of the daughters of the Sindar Kings, Aegnor? All sighed after you when last we made stay in each realm. Yet you would not grant even one a moment of your affection, more beautiful they were than all the jewels in Valinor!")

   ("Not beautiful enough,") Aegnor murmured and sighed. ("A beautiful face may please the eye, but a fiery spark and a bold, unapologetic spirit excite the mind. What I seek in a wife, an eld maid has yet to show themselves.")

   ("Am I to understand that you find beauty and meekness unappealing in a wife?") Angrod smirked

   ("Of course I don't!") Aegnor replied ("only if it is all that I find in her. Oh, but for a spirit... wild and untamed! One who is unafraid to challenge the wind's unyielding might with me, that! That is what I greatly admire in a maiden.") His grin widened. ("Alas, it seems that a Sindarin princess is much to fair for such qualities to possess,")

  Angrod cast him a withering look. ("Forgive me, my brother, but perhaps supreme beauty and gentle nature is the barest pickings that one must settle for,") he muttered sarcastically. Aegnor stopped weaving, his gaze hardening.

   ("If you have words to say, then say them! Otherwise, keep your never restful, ever meddling, overused tongue behind your teeth! Now take your leave from me! I wish to be alone!") Aegnor grumbled 

  ("Hah! A revelation! Aegnor wishes to be alone!") Angrod taunted. Aegnor tensed his lips and pressed them together with restrained rage as his eyes darted back at him. His furrowed brow challenging Angrod's glare. ("Wallowing in the loathing you hold for yourself does not aid you! Per chance, that is the reason you are so utterly miserable, Aegnor! It is unbecoming of you!" He barked

  ("Are you still speaking!?") Aegnor snapped,

  ("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 sneered, his jaw tensing. ("You cast scorn upon every choice I have wrought! Each time I strive to act of mine own, it is with the weight of your endless prattle upon my shoulders!  You believe yourself to be well-acquainted with my soul, yet your vision is so narrow that you can not see not beyond the bridge of your own nose! Know this: you understand nothing of my true desires!")

  “I know it well! It is as clear to me as the stars above, and it lies heavy upon your very lap!” Angrod shouted, his finger accusingly directed at the child's blanket. Aegnor, filled with fervour, seized the exquisite fabric in his lap and cast it across the chamber.

  (“Begone, you treacherous cloth! Go forth and cease to torment my brother with your sweet, guileless design!”) he bellowed into the shadows after the flung item. (“Are you satisfied now!?”) he roared, turning his gaze back to Angrod, their elvish voices clashing like swords.

  (“There is no need for such dramatic displays, Aegnor!”) Angrod countered, his tone sharp.

  (“By Illuvatar, one would think the very heavens would tremble if I dared to draw a breath!”) Aegnor cried, anger surging through him.

 (“Very well, Aegnor, you have won!”) Angrod conceded, his gesture of defeat marked by an exasperated wave. (“But take heed; your bitterness shall be your undoing!”)

  (“I am not bitter!”) Aegnor snarled, his bright teeth bared in fury.

  (“Oh, but you are! You would not even attend our sister's wedding in Doriath!”)

  (“Shut up!”) Aegnor roared, the force of his rage propelling him to his feet. His coiled hair whipped around him as he spun. ("I shall not be chided as a wayward child! Not by Felagund, and certainly not by you! Now, if you will excuse me, I shall seek a vessel of wine to drown the sorrows of your company and the vexation of your irritating voice!") With that, Aegnor stormed from the room, the echoes of his footsteps haunting the stone floor.

  (“Tread carefully, little brother!”) Angrod called after his shrinking form. (“Lest you choke upon the vessel you imbibe from with your misery still intact!")

 ○○○

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 gravelly, 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.

  "Tis not my burden," he shrugged simply.

  Whispered voices swelled. Tension simmered as 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 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

  "And as for you!" Caranthir barked, pointing at Aegnor. "I will not be threatened by the youngest and lowest born of our houses! You are just privileged enough to be present at this council, let alone be permitted to speak!"

   Aegnor smiled and licked his lips, casting a wicked glance back at Angrod. "Low born am I, Caranthir?" He squinted his eyes, his devilish grin widening, "How can that be so? I emerged from the proper birth channel, when you fell out of the other opening in your mother below it!" Voices and gasps ghosted around as Caranthir glared at Aegnor. "Lost for words, so suddenly?" Aegnor added quickly, "It seems your talents are better suited for thieves and murderers than among noble princes!" His tone growing with rising anger.

 "Pah!" Caranthir scoffed. "Yes, your 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, flew at Caranthir in a fit of heated rage in defence of Aegnor and Angrod, his cousins. He tore into Caranthir with words of his own, his white teeth bared in rage. Curufin and Celegorm quickly leapt to their feet and joined to defend their brother against Fingon's heated words. Two opposing sides were formed, as Fingon, Aegnor, and Angrod clashed with the three sons of Feänor in a dramatic stand-off. Their voices merging with fury. The others bearing witness to this could only watch with silence. Maedhros and Maglor shook their heads, burying them in their hands, while Turgon and Finrod exchanged disaproving glances. Aredhal stood up and in a screech that out drowned them all.

"Quiet!" She yelled

The high-pitched shrill peirced through the voices of the prince's cutting the shouting completely. Stunned and silenced, their wide eyes 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 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. 

 ○○○

 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 called out to him from the edge of the stream, urging him to continue their journey.

  "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 openness.

   "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 this nonsense! I am a prince, not a troll! And you will give me the respect I am due! I have no intention nor desire to 'put you in my mouth'!" Aegnor barked. His deep offence to such a bizarre accusation is growing. A swift pause followed, pregnant with silence.

 "Your words are, but empty vassals weaved masterfully in an attempt to sway my heart to come out! I am no fool! Be gone, you disgusting 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 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 voice shrieked from the boulder

    The troll whirled its head around toward the source of the voice. The momentary pause caused a window of escape for the elf. Aegnor released the dagger from his pinned hand, and it fell toward the ground, catching it with his free hand. He forcefully drove the blade through the back of the troll's skull. The beast yelped and gargled. With sharp jerking motion, Aegnor pulled the trolls head backwards as he thrust deeper, ensuring maximum effect. The troll's body finally went limp, and it collapsed 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, grasped the spear in his shoulder, pinning him to the tree, and with controlled breaths, he forcefully yanked it out, freeing him from the troll's entrap The pain was almost unbearable, and he collapsed upon the ground, his voice lifting into sharp cries of agony. He clutched his shoulder, and it seeped with blood. He gradually 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 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 reprimanded his brother." This poor child has been through a terrible ordeal! Do you wish to frighten her all the 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 the 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 I'm leaving her behind you -") 

  ("I would never suggest such a thing!") Angrod interrupted ("You know, as well as I do, 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,") he shook 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 delay 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, little maiden?" 

  "Andreth, lady of Ladros...what is yours?"

  "I am known by many names, but you may call me Aegnor,"

  "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 beautiful day. At last, she felt safe again. The warmth of his solid form behind her held her firmly as the horse's body shook between her legs with every beat of its hooves, spurring her onward towards home.

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 grapped 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! 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 overwhelming 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 reaching 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

   He looked at her. He slowly raised himself up, leaning on his elbow.

  "Have I come to the halls of Mandos?" he asked, his voice low and breathy.

  "No," she whispered 

  "Then, I am still dreaming,"

   "No," she repeated 

   He stared at her, his silence heavy with unspoken words. He glanced at his bandage shoulder once again, noticing that the blackness that marred his skin had completely disappeared. He regarded her with an intense gaze of wonderment.

   "You had a shard of poisoned blade embedded in your shoulder, I treated it," she explained. Aegnor tilted his head slightly, narrowing his eyes. His intrigue in this wonderful young girl, fully piqued.

   "Troll poison is a very complex toxin. It can not be cured by ordinary healers. It needs elvish medicine." He breathed.

   "I have devoted my studies to elven healing. My grandfather taught me the sindarin tongue when I was very young," she explained shyly. "My father has a library full of elvish books, and I have read everyone." 

  Aegnor expressed his astonishment with a long, thoughtful exhale. "You saved my life Andreth!" 

  She fidgeted tensely with the thin fabric of her dirty skirt, her shy eyes averting his gaze. Her vail of tangled, long, dark tresses fell over her youthful face. He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. "I do not know how I can repay such a debt," he mused.

  "You saved my life from the troll. I have merely returned the favour," she replied meekly, her shy eyes cast still upon her hands.

    Aegnor sighed heavily with disbelief and relief. His gaze lingered on the fire. Her eyes fell upon him once more, his physical beauty enchanting her. He caught her gaze, and she quickly looked away. Her body and fingers tensing tightly.

  "I have not 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."He is indeed the fairest of our kind, noble and gentle,"

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

   "I have met him," he nodded, smiling.

   "How wonderful that must have been! It is truly a gift to behold the beauty of the Eldar. Now, I have seen it for myself," she replied, wonder in her sweet voice.

   Their eyes lingered. The realization of her words suddenly gripped her, and she blushed heavily, looking away. Aegnor gave her a flattering grin. Raising 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 excitedly.

   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 storm. The snowstorm transformed into a violent blizzard, ensnaring those seeking refuge and freezing the unsheltered. Snow fell relentlessly, whipped by the gusting wind, layering the prince's cloaks as they valiantly trudged through the white expanse. Their weary horse emitted pained cries as they pressed on, fatigue seeping into every step. The snow touched their bellies 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!" Aegnor shouted above the howling blizzard as he clutched his hood in his thick gloves, his voice barely audible. "The storm worsens, the horses need rest. What should 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 descended 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. What makes you say otherwise?" He asked tenderly

   "We...we meant no offence lord," the same young boy stuttered nervously. "My little sister has yet to grow out of such stories,"

  Aegnor's eyes fell upon the young girl, whose large, glistening pools stared back at him. One hand clasped her lip while the other fidgeted with her hair, so much innocence wrapped in her sweet, unbroken gaze.

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

   "What about you? What do you believe?" He whispered.

   "Father tells me elves aren't real because magic isn't real," she replied sweetly.

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

   "You've seen magic?"

   "Yes! All elves have seen it," 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 interjected, his voice rich with assertive confidence. "Show us your ears!"

   With a playful glint in his eyes, Aegnor swept his lustrous golden mane backwards and turned his head. The children gasped in silent amazement. His ear, distinctly elven, beheld in their gaze. Along its rim, a set of silver ear piercings displayed.

   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.

 "Then, It is a simple game?" He asked plainly.

  "It is far more than just a simple game!" She laughed "It demands sublime cunning and a deft wit!"

  "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 elf! Try to show some patience. Itt is my turn," she giggled. His mischievous gaze turned towards her, a glimmer of anticipation illuminating his eyes.

  "Do you play this game often?"

  "Only against the adults, yet even they fall pray to my hand-hah!" With deft speed, she quickly grabbed for his fingers, only to grasp thin air. Her gloating, innocent smile melted to surprise.

  "How did you...!?" She snorted, feeling cheated. "How did you slip from my grasp so easily!? No adult has claimed victory over my opening move!"

   Aegnor casually picked up his cup.

  "Why do you ask me questions? I am just a silly elf," he replied simply, taking a sip.

  "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 mine forever and all eternity!" She smiled  Aegnor's eyes lingered upon her face, studying her features with intensity.

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

  "Do you accept?" 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. His low, velvety purr sent a tremble through her.

   "Then, I shall make it work in my favour! I will take your freedom!" she blushed.

   "Perhaps, but 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 with emotion, she ripped 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, 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 add upon Aegnor's willing, chiselled cheek, placed a soft lingering kiss. Caught completely off guard, Aegnor turned his head and met her gaze. In that moment, their eyes met a glance of a thousand silent words. A lingering gaze that seems to feel like a lifetime, filled with surprise, boreboding and longing. As swiftly as it came, she broke from his hold as he gently released the special maiden and she dashed toward her mother. She took her hand and allowed herself to be taken away. Her slender for disappearing into the bodies of the crodd who paid no mind to the moment just witnessed. Aegnor's intense, bewildered gaze stayed fixed upon her as she parted from his sight, glancing over her shoulder to gace upon him one last time.

   Then, she was gone.

   Angrod had come and sad beside him, warming his hands, but Aegnor did not see, nor hear. He stared still at the place Andreths form had melted into the crowd, unmoving. 

  "We leave shortly, Aegnor."  His words went unheard and unheeded

"Aegnor?" He repeated."Aegnor!"

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, on the outskirts of town, the men eagerly anticipated a day of hunting in the lush forests that surrounded Ladros. The golden sunlight filtered through the dense canopy, casting dappled shadows on the forest floor. The leaves rustled softly in the gentle breeze, whispering secrets to those who cared to listen. Vibrant birds flit through the branches, their melodic songs filling the air.

   Lord Boromir, a seasoned warrior with a gentle heart, 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 feel 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 lied. 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. An air of complete authority exuded from him. His stern face and glaring fiery eyes locked on Hagrath. His head healed with a regal poise, adorned in golden hair like a royal coat of arms. Andreth's heart stopped, and her eyes grew wide. 

 "Release her mortal, and I may yet spare your life!" Aegnor ordered, his voice, deep and dripping with authority. Hagrath glared back at him, snarling. Aegnor face contorted with seething rage. His shoulders squared and low, 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 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.

 "You broke my arm, you bitch!" Hagrath cried as he rose, mud and leaves clinging to his soiled clothes.

 "I did not know a parasitic insect could make so much noise!" Aegnor roared down at him. "Be gone, you loathsome wretch before I decend upon you and and end you pathetic existence right here!" 

 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 hide in my lands again, I will kill you!" Aegnor called out after him.

 "Did he wound you lady?" He asked gently, turning to Andreth.

 "Only my pride," Andreth replied unsteadily, utterly shaken. "Thank you," she whispered.

 "Where is your escort?" He asked.

 "My escort?" She replied."He is likely searching for his horse, my lord... which currently, I am riding."

  Aegnor's eyes fell upon her horse in a silent pause, visibly confused. Then they drew back to her. The air grew dence as their gazes on each other lingered, each utterly enchanted by the other. Finally, Aegnor tore his eyes away as if a sudden realisation had struck him and cleared his throat. "Can we... accompany you anywhere?"

 "You may escort me to the river!" She promptly replied, glancing behind her. Aegnor nodded respectfully and pivoted his horse around. 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 overwhelming her, 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 know my way from here," She replied.

Her eyes shifted to him. His gaze cast upon the 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.

  He looked at her and she quickly averted her gaze. Her lip pressed into a tense smile and she nibbled her lip. "I do not often find myself in need of rescuing but... I am reminded of how vulnerable a maiden is on her own,"  His eyes, intense and bright, lingered on her. The silence between them was deafening. She swallowed tensely. "I suppose there are many in need of a saviour lest they fall prey to coils of an evil fate, or the clutches of a ferocious troll," she smiled nervously. Aegnor's stiff visage revealed no emotion.

 "Be well, my lady." He said. There was a chilling finality in his words. Gentle, but no less formal. Andreths expression darkened, her smile fading.

 "I am truly grateful to you for saving me, lord!" She insisted, her eyes desperately searching his. The sweet song of the morning birds and the gentle trickle of the stream filled the tense silence between them. Aegnor tensed and turned away. Breaking the connection.

 "Surely, such a heroic deed deserves a due reward, name your price!" She added, her voice betraying a hint of growing desperation.

  "Maiden, I do not welcome your bold flirtations, kindly take your leave." He dismissed her, not meeting her gaze. Her breath trembled, her eyes deeply wounded,

 "Aegnor!" She murmured 

  Aegnor snapped his attention back at her. "How do you know my name?"

 "You have forgotten, "she gasped. Her fragile gaze locked in his.

 "Who are you?" He whispered, narrowing his eyes.

   She scoffed loudly and without an answer, she galloped across the stream, leaving the bewildered elf at the bank. He watched her fleeting figure ride away, her dark hair billowing behind her like a wraith, unable to tear his eyes away from the fleeing siren. He was wise to the enchantments of the fairer sex, yet she alone unnerved him. Her mystery and beauty haunting him on the rest of his journey home from his long-term command in Angband.

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, his elvish words drawing Aegnor away from the abyss of his thoughts.

   ("By what do you mean, Angrod?") Aegnor replied, also in the high tongue of the Eldar. ("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. For I have found it a far lighter exertion dragging a horse through a wall of fire than convincing you to join me in attendance, and when you finally relent, your mood is foul and your visage dark and miserable. I have not heard a word from you this entire way.")

   ("My dear Angrod, perhaps I would not be so foul of mood, if it were not for the barrage of times you force the burden of courtesy upon me, knowing full well the contempt I hold for high elven formality. Making promises on my behalf that I learn of only days later, then abandon me to the mercy of weeping Sindarin maidens and their scowling fathers!")  Aegnor grumbled. Peals of laughter rumbled from Angrod.

   ("Do not laugh! You are undoubtedly a thorn in my side!") Aegnor fumed. ("This time, we are doing what I want to do!")

   Tittering still, Angrod turned his gaze toward him. ("I acknowledge the many times I have betrayed you in those moments. Forgive me,") he replied. ("But, you seem distracted, uneasy. Is there something that weighs heavy in your mind?")

   Aegnor took a moment to speak, gazing down at their shadows upon the grass as they trotted onward. ("Upon our last stay, when we sought shelter in Boromir's stronghold, I made a promise to someone very close to my heart,") he murmured.

   ("To Andreth?") Angrod asked, and Aegnor nodded solemnly.

   ("I promised her that I would return to see her. But many terrible winters in Angband had forced much hardship upon us. I stayed longer than I should have. I fear... she will not forgive me,") he said sadly.

   ("We oft see things as larger than they truly appear, you are quick to reprimand my criticism of you, but fail to acknowledge your own.")  Angrod replied, his countenance and warm tone a balm in Aegnor's ear.     ("She will be fine, Aegnor. Do not despair for what may never be,") he comforted him.

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

 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 as they didn't wish to take attention from the newlyweds.

   Amid the revelry, Angrod, bearing a chalice of wine, approached his brother, Aegnor. 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, that's why you brought it, is it not") 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."

   At this, 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 ado, I declare the tournaments open!" he proclaimed, his arm sweeping wide. "Let the games 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.

  "As a boon requested by my fair bride, Variel," he announced, his tone rich and joyful, "mayhap our noble elven lords would do us the honor of opening these tournaments with a display of their famed skills in a friendly spar."

   At this, the assembled throng erupted once more into thunderous applause, the very rafters trembling with the force of their jubilation. Men, women, and children alike raised their voices in a chorus of delight, their eyes shining with unbridled anticipation. And then, 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.

  "You 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. "If I were you, I would willingly surrender now!" Smouldering, Angrod raised his sword, challenging him. They circled one another slowly, and the crowds voices grew in excitement. 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.

  A grinning Aegnor dived at Angrod, their blades clanking 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!" Lady Anthel reminded her. Andreth sighed, her eyes evading her mothers gaze.

   "You owe him at the least a polite greeting, lest you forget!"

   She added before walking away, leaving Andreth alone with only her sulking to comfort her. In the distance, the sounds of music and laughter from the party drifted on, a stark contrast to the loneliness of the vast kitchen that had become her sanctuary. Anger boiled inside, and she returned to chopping, far more aggressively than before.

  "Oh yes, a friend indeed...yet he doesn't even know who I am...ow!"  Blood seeped from her fingertip where the knife had sliced it. She quickly cleaned it away. 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 be, 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. Then, 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 ever dares to show me such disrespect in again, the next blow shall be imbedded in your head!" He seethed. Rolfe was then dragged away and forcefully ejected into the night.

   Aegnor, beaming with satisfaction, turned and clasped arms with a grateful and appreciative 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 immediately turned to Aegnor. Who, to her horror, was staring directly back at her, his expression mirroring hers. 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, her tone terse and guarded.

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 etched 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 for my sake, verily, you ran from me! Why!? Why did you run, Andreth!?"

   "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, Aegnor, yet you could not spare unto me not a letter of greeting nor offer even a fleeting courteous word. You are a cold bastard, cold and heartless!" Tears burst forth from her eyes, accompanied by sobs that tore at Aegnor's heart. He released a trembling sigh and closed the distance between them, his voice tinged with a palpable remorse. 

   "Andreth, heed my words. Ten summers and ten bitter winters I spent commanding the siege, breathing in the very smouldering embers of Morgoth's darkness. Those days were nigh unbearable to endure, yet the only solace I could take in those bleak and weary times was the thought of returning to your side once more. The child I left behind, she was as courageous as the night with the beating heart of a king - I should have known. Andreth..." He cupped her cheek, lifting her weeping face to meet his gaze. "I am so very 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 be returning 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. 

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, 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 hardly my fault! We were unexpectedly cut off!" Angrod retorted, shedding his cloak.

 "Then, I near drowned in the Mouths Of Sirion!" Aegnor continued. 

 "Enough of this idle prattle! Let us be off before I am sorely tempted to drown you in this accursed lake right now!" With that, he turned and strode away, leaving Aegnor to trail reluctantly behind. Yet Aegnor's ire was not so easily quelled, and he soon caught up to his brother, his brow furrowed in a deep scowl.

 "And let us not forget my misfortune, stranded for four days amidst a relentless storm, that falling into that treacherous river had led me to!" Aegnor continued. Angrod turned around to face him, folding his arms in annoyance. "That's what happened the last time I relied on your sense of direction! Frankly, I'd prefer being submerged in this lake and drowned to enduring another scorching moment, lost in the 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

 "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 a 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 squinting. "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 curling 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 see nor care! You are selfish, and you are weak!"

   At this, Aegnor's eyes flashed with a tempest of emotion. "Weak and selfish, am I?" he roared, his voice resonating with a righteous indignation. "Nay, brother, it is I who holds our ranks together in the accursed depths of Angband! While you oft disappear to Eru knows where, I endure the poisoned fumes of that treacherous place, just as you do!"

  He drew in a shuddering breath, his features etched with a pain that ran deeper than mere words could convey. "Yet I also yearn to bring some measure of joy into the lives of these poor children, Is that such a grievous misstep?

 "Nay, this goes far deeper than mere concern for the children," he spat. "This is about her, is it not? That girl, Andreth - she has been lodged within your thoughts since the day we first laid eyes upon her."

  Aegnor's voice and expression softened. "It is not so simple as that,"

"I care not for the nature of your feelings," Angrod snapped, his hand raised in a stern, commanding gesture. "You must put them aside, now! We have far graver issues to contend with!"

  But Aegnor stood firm. "She is not merely a whim, brother," he replied, his tone laced with a quiet intensity.

  Angrod's eyes narrowed, his frustration palpable. "I said, enough!" he snarled. "I need y—"

  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 uttered, 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 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. ("Truly, I am surprised that I did not perceive his presence.")

Angrod whispered in reply, ("I am equally surprised that we did not catch the scent from him upon the wind.")

 "Do not insult me by 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.

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 white stallion, she flew as fleet as thought, free as any faerie wanderer through glade and glen. No burden of suit weighed her fëa as she breathed deep the crisp airs, 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. Each saw in Andreth's fair form their own designs, blind to her spirit's song. 

   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, your startled look does not befit one as fair as you," 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? My father's riches shall be your dowry, and you shall be my wife, whether you will it or no!" 

Her anger rose like a storm upon crashing waves.

  "I'll not be baited or bargained over like cattle! I am a lady of ladros, and you will show me the respect I am owed! Step aside or I shall scream, and the guards of my father shall come and drag you out!" 

   Immediately subdued, he complied and stepped aside. Her warning heeded, Andreth rode for pastures unseen, galloping fast o'er 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.

   As she went about picking flowers in the enchanting forest bed, she fashioned a gift in the hopes of easing Variels' growing anxiety about the impending birth of her and her brothers first child. 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 thoughts, she heard the distant sound of hooves approaching. 

  "Ah! Another search party, hear to drag me back to the prison of waiting bodies eager to make a little wife of me! Pah!" She grumbled."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. Unable to contain her joy, she called out his name with fervour, her voice carrying loudly across the meadow. 

  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 chest and abdomen, 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, searching for an item.

   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 instinctively slapped her hand away, his face contorted with repulsion and mild annoyance.

  "What is 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 pitiful pretence? To fall unconscious to a wayward branch, you are not so fragile as that, Aegnor!" Her playful laugh dancing in the air.

  "I deserved no such penance for the ramifications you subjected me to! The abomination you wafted beneath my nostrils deems more fitting to repel balrogs from their chasms!" He retorted with matching humour, his eyes squinting. 

   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 vigorously at them.

   He lifted his body up, leaning back on his elbows. "That is my cousin, Fingon, the king's son, and my brother," he answered.

  "Angrod?" she asked eagerly. Aegnor shook his head and rose to his feet with a single elegant motion.

  "Angrod is in Angband." He extended his hand to her. "That is my other brother, and our eldest...Finrod," Taking his hand, she rose to her feet. 

  "Did you say...Finrod? Finrod Felagund?" she asked slowly. 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 he was your own brother!" She cried. Aegnor smiled mischievously at her. 

 "And I told no lie, I had indeed met him... when I was an infant!" he quipped.

 "Aegnor!" A loud grunt of agitation emitted from her clenched teeth as she yanked handfuls of grass from the earth and hurled it at him. The clumps of grass fluttered around. Aegnor's playful laughter electrified the air as he dodged her every grassy propellant. 

  "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. Aegnor took in every detail of her worn out and re-mended attire. He noticed the loose tears and the frayed lace woven around hoops that held the sleeves in place. A charming and endearing smile stretched upon his face.

  "Your attire bears no flaw that I can see, for those things which hold memory are more beautiful to the Eldar than the most splendid of gems" he responded, his voice, a soft brush between them.

Her eyes met his in that moment, and a tender glance passed between them. 

    Finrod Felagund was coming their way. Her heart raced as he made his ethereal approach across the expanse of the open field, his horse drawing ever closer. The sun caught behind his head like a crown of light. His silver locks shined. He was dressed in simple, white clothes of delicate, flowing material and a matching mantle that danced in the wind.

  "I must take my leave!" She cried before abruptly taking to flight, making a dash toward her horse. Aegnor reacted immediately, grabbing her wrist, and he urged her to remain. This tug of war between them battled as Andreth pleaded with Aegnor to release her arm. Only for his grip to tighten each time she attempted to break free. 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 Boromir and Anthel, I assume," he replied gently, curiosity sparking in his regal gaze,

  "Yes, I am acquainted with your brother Aegnor, that is the cause for my outcry and his accidental fall, I am to blame," she conceded

   Sudden laughter crackled from the elf lord. "My lady!" Finrod exclaimed, his eyes dancing with glee. "The style of which my brother rides could only be compared to the countenance of a wild bull!" 

  "Tis an impressive analogy of my character, Finrod!" Aegnor replied, unamused. "Just how long have you been waiting to say such?" 

   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 cousin!" 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 the elves. The melody carried in the air like a beautiful song. Unamused, Aegnor stared silently at her. His hands resting agitatedly on his hips. Andreth held his gaze laughing shamelessly. His long, thick, wind-swept mane coiled messily down his body. Ribbons of black entwined with small decorative braids at the top of his head, pulled and tied loosely at the back, studs of pure silver pierced along their edges drew attention to his ears, pointed and destinctly elven.

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

As they continued to jest and playfully poke fun at him, Aegnor remained silent, his thoughts momentarily consumed by Andreth's unexpected words.

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

   "I do not lord, though the desire to learn burns within me,"

  "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 this 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, at least, 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 laughed softly. "It has granted me the opportunity to spend a moment with you," 

    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 leaves that danced above them. 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. Only then, she was but a girl held against his body for protection and warmth, and only then had she felt so safe.

   In an attempt to find 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. 

    The soft moans and groans from Andreth as she endured the searing pain rippling through her leg, certainly made this trip all the more important. Hidden from danger, Aegnor, attune to the huffs and silent groans of echoing 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 my mind that you 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. For when the eldest daughter of the chieftain comes of age, she is paraded from land to land to let it be known that she is eligible to be wed."

  "Sounds positively ghastly." Aegnor shivered 

  "And it is! I hated every minute I was made to endure it, I fear I would die of boredom before they would see me!"

Aegnor burst into peals of laughter.

  "Now, they come in their hordes, competing and arguing to claim my hand." Aegnor listened as she continued, "I escape when I can and oft take long rides, only to feel the wind in my face and the peace of the morning forest," 

  "Ahh, is that what you were doing in the meadows when we encountered you? Hiding?" He chuffed 

  "No!" An agitated sigh blew from her lips ."Yes," she grumbled

Aegnor chuckled lightly.

  "You and Angrod must travel often. The roads between Dorthonion and Angband are perilous,"

    "Angrod and I, we are quite enamoured with the delights of travelling." 

    A slight smile curled at the edges of his lips as he continued. 

    "Upon one such night, as the tempestuous winds howled, we sought shelter beneath a tree atop a towering cliff. I returned to find Angrod deep in the throws of slumber and a pack of fell wolves gaining ground upon him,"

   "What happened?"

   "I seized Angrod's slumbering form and threw him over the edge of the cliff, plunging us both into the raging river below. Swept downstream for leagues, we at last found purchase on the opposite bank, drenched. There, Angrod turned to me, a fire burning in his eyes. Do you know what he said?"

  "What?" She smiled

  "Fool, you left the wine!"

   She burst into laughter, her beautiful chirps sweetening the air. "Do you partake in the delights of wine, Aegnor?" She asked. There was a pause before he answered, a lingering silence as he carefully considered his words 

  "When the desire to do so takes me, fair lady..." he answered quietly

  "My mother does not permit me the same indulgence, a grown woman I am, yet she insists still on watering down my ale supply," she replied

    An unspoken question she dearly wished to say weighed heavy on her as they climbed higher. The slow swaying of the horse beneath her, causing her to cling to him tightly. She nervously nibbled her lip.

   "Aegnor..." she breathed before speaking again. "There is a question I wish to ask you,"

Aegnor gently pulled on the reigns, and his horse came to a gentle stop. Andreth breathed before continuing.

  "Your brother, Finrod." She began. "It is said that he had left behind a beautiful she-elf, a betrothed, dear to his heart. Is this true?"

   Aegnor twisted his body around and gazed at her. Loose rocks and soil came yielded beneath the horses weight and crumbled down the mountainside. Her name rolled off his tongue like a dreamy lullaby.

  "Amarïe, that was her name," he replied softly.

  "Amarïe," she repeated. "I can not fathom what a beauty she must be,"

"Deep was their love, my brother's and hers. Not a day goes by when he thinks not of her, of that I am certain,"

    His admiration was evident in his dreamy tone as he spoke of them, coupled with a hint of sadness and longing.

   "Aegnor...," she said slowly, "Is there too an someone who deeply misses you, and you, her?" She breathed. The heavy silence was unbearable. More rocks began to crumble. The slight jerking of Aegnor's panic stricken horse broke the tender moment. Snapping Aegnor's attention away. 

 "Aegnor!" Andreth shrieked. 

   Soothing coo's and buttery elvish words glided from Aegnor's voice as he attempted to quell his horse's sudden panic stricken jerks. More earth crumbled away, causing the hind legs of the horse to fall with it. Andreth screamed as she slipped away, Aegnor reached behind and grabbed her arm. The large grey mare, Aegnor's trusty war companion, finally surrendered to the fall, taking Aegnor and Andreth with her. 

   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 hod 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 hissed.

   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.

  "Vile 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 you will beg for!"

    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. Unable to witness any further defilement upon her, Aegnor flew at Hagrath, a knife launched into his hand, concealed beneath his bracers, ready to defend her. Before he could reach him, a quick footed assailant swung the hilt of his sword straight at Aegnor's head with merciless force. The world blurred into darkness as Aegnor surrendered to the realm of unconsciousness, his final act of defiance thwarted.

​​​​​​​

Valinor,

The year of the trees

 The small, nimble body wandered aimlessly through the great trees of Valinor. With a spring in his graceful step, the youthful, adolescent elf glided through the glade, his keen sences were alive with his surroundings. A wild, unkempt mane of golden hair mingled with the filtered sunlight, dazzling all who saw it. Despite relishing in his freedom, he was restless. Knowing if the kings guard should take notice of him, it would be a swift march straight back home. The adventure that lurked beyond the stifling palace walls proved to much of a temptation for a young prince, and his many escapes have proved this so.

  ("Aegnor!") A clarion call echoed through the verdant boughs, drawing the young eldar's immediate attention. His fair countenance was illuminated with unbridled delight, his eyes kindling with a beautiful, ethereal glow as he espied his companions approaching in the distance.

  Aegnor hastily smoothed the wild, golden curls that framed his visage, nearly forgetting the delicate circlet that crowned his noble brow - a symbol of his royal lineage as a prince of the Noldor With a swift motion, he plucked the ornament from his head, secreting it behind his back just as the small troupe of juvenile elves drew nigh, their excited smiles greeting his sparkling, bright gaze.

  ("I had thought the watchful eyes of the King's guard would have quelled your timely escape!") the apparent leader of the group remarked, his pale eyes alight with amusement. This elven youth, Onmerïo, possessed an air of authority and confidence in his bearing, his raven tresses cascading down his back in a single, intricate braid.

 ("Ah, but you underestimate me, dear Onmerïo!") Aegnor replied, his lilting voice etched with the innocence of youth. ("I am far too swift on my feet for the eyes of any palace guard to catch!") The young prince's face was alight with a triumphant grin.

  The quartet of companions closed ranks around him, their expressions radiant with camaraderie. Onmarïo's laughter rang out, melodic as the songs of the nightingales. ("It seems I was wrong to doubt you, Aegnor. We had all feared you would not come to join us, and as a reward for your unwavering devotion,") the dark-haired elf continued, his eyes glimmering with the spirit of adventure, ("we shall share with you our most recent discovery - one we know will pique your great interest!")

  Aegnor's heart swelled with unbridled excitement, his wide smile, a beacon of uncontainable delight.

 ("Come, quickly!") Onmarïo called, turning on his heel and disappearing into the verdant embrace of the forest, his long braid whipping the air in his wake.

  The youthful company swiftly followed their undisputed leader. Their fleeting forms a blur of grace and speed. Left behind, Aegnor cast a furtive glance about, carefully placing his delicate circlet at the foot of a mighty tree, concealing it amidst the fallen leaves and branches. With a lightness of step befitting the Eldar, he took off in pursuit of his companions, easily catching up to the vibrant entourage as they wove through the dappled glades like graceful spirits.

  Yet, amidst the throng, the young prince emerged at the back, his resplendent golden locks a crown of unrivalled splendour that set him apart from the others with unquestionable distinction - a beacon of superior beauty and noble bearing.

  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! The prince is possessed by fear!") Onmariö cried out in mockery, his lips curling into a sinister smile. ("Perhaps we have pushed him too far from the sheltered halls of Valinor.")

  ("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 filth-encrusted vermin, look at his clothes!") One jeered, his words laced with sinister mirth.

   ("Witness 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.

○○○

Dorthonion

369 A.D

The cool moonlight caressed his bare chest, casting a warm, enchanting glow that heightened every contour of his flawless skin. Around his neck, glistened an enchanting silver pendant that hung low at his flesh. The soft blue glow traced the lines of his taut, chiselled jaw and the sharp angles of the cheekbones of his smooth, unblemished face. Strands of golden hair, unbound and cascading, traced the sinuous curves of his muscular chest and arched shoulders, leading the eye to a sculpted waist and an enticingly taut navel. His dark cerulean leggings clung low around his narrow hips. 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.

    In his ringed hand, Aegnor held his cherished knife up in front of his face. He admired its unrivalled beauty, seeking solace from his tumultuous thoughts. A 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 blade of exquisite artistry. As his gaze caressed its form, the tip of his velvety tongue effortlessly glided over the plump curves of his enticing lips, leaving a trail of glistening allure upon their surface. A heavy sigh escaped him. Shrouded in longing and desire.

   The image of the raven haired maiden as she rode away across the stream lingered in Aegnor's mind like a haunting shadow. Her voice, like a sirens song, echoed heavily within him, torturing every thought he was unable to shake her from his head. Her guileless, enigmatic eyes ignited a maddening intrigue, an insatiable curiosity.

  "Curse that wretched maid!" He exclaimed within his mind, his thoughts consumed by the enigmatic woman who had crossed his path. "I can not shake her memory from the forefront of my mind, try as I might. How came she to know my name while I remain ignorant of hers? Yet..." He paused, a flicker of familiarity would cross his features. "Yet she seemed so familiar, as if I had known her in some distant age." His mind would echo within.

  The very moment where she had left him without a word, both intrigued and infuriated him. If he would ever see her again, he will be sure to have his answer. Whether she would willingly give it or not. No respite awaited him as he lay sprawled upon his bed.

     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, tailored to his favoured tight style, 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 impressive. 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," her voice tinged with sadness, as she wiped away a tear that clung to the corner of her eye.

   His gaze softened as he met her eyes, a shared understanding passing between them. 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, his gaze transfixed upon the flickering flames. "But now..." he sighed, looking into the void surrounding them. "In this vast world without her, it suddenly seems so...empty,"

    In the quietude that followed, the crackling fire seemed to lend its own voice to his words, as if echoing the depth of his emotions. Releasing his vulnerability to this kind lady, who listened with sincere understanding, lifted a weight he had been carrying for so long. Aegnor felt a tinge of peace within him, mingling with the warmth of the firelight. He bared his heart and the weight of his purpose to the silent night.

    "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, her eyes fixed upon. 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."

     Aegnor's eyes danced, sparkling with new purpose, mirroring her sentiment. A strong connection formed between them in that moment. "I know you are a kind and good man, and when you pave your journey, do so with love in your heart." 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 blazed with fury, and in his hand, he clutched a knife. As the man drew nearer, Aegnor's voice thundered in a roar, laced with desperation and fury, "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.

○○○

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 wailed. His sharp cry cutting into Finarfin's ears.

   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, Aegnor,") 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, I am taking you 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.

Chapter Warning: Gruesome descriptions of brutal violence. 

  The old slaughterhouse stood abandoned and silent, its rusted equipment bearing witness to the passage of time. His sense of smell returned first, assaulted by the stale air and the foul stench of decaying wood and earth. The sound of the gentle clanging of metal tools echoed eerily in the light breeze. Dust and debris filled the air illuminated by the rays of sunlight streaming through the gaps in decaying wooden walls, causing him to cough. Aegnor's vision blurred as his eyes slowly began to open. 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.

 "He's coming too," one gruff voice echoed.

Aegnor's vision finally cleared. Slowly, he managed to lift his face from the rotten wooded floor. Dazed, he felt the weight of the shadow that loomed over him.

 "Wakey, wakey!" Hagrath jeered, his chapped lips stretching into a most chilling grin.

 Aegnor slowly sat up, dazed. He tried to pull his hands free, but the coarse rope bound them firmly behind his back. His malicious grin still pinned on his face, Hagrath rose and returned to his men who were stood around. Aegnor searched around him, scanning the room, searching for anything that could aid in cutting his binds. But his attention was abruptly caught by the sight of Andreth, who stood, gagged and tied to a contraption a afew feet from the men. Her tear-stained face sent his fury a blaze.

  Summoning his strength, Aegnor rose to his feet, his towering presence commanding the centre of the room. His gaze locked onto Hagrath, his eyes burning with cold determination. 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. Causing Hagrath the snicker.

 "Come on, elf! Rescue your fair maiden!" Hagrath jeered, mocking Aegnor. Aegnor could only seethe with impotent rage as he watched on helplessly. He struck her again, and her sharp cry cracked the air. Hagrath laughed  his malicious cackles reverberating his Aegnor's hot, red ears.

  "Aegnor, that's your name, ain't it?" Hagrath called, his voice dripping with disdain.  Aegnor glared at him, his eyes, icy and vacant.

 "You see this?" Hagrath held out his hand, the glint of Aegnor's cherished blade clasped firmly in his dirty fingers. A twisted smile played upon his lips.

 "That's real pretty," he mumbled, admiring its perfect beauty. "Look at this thing, ain't no mark on it, not even a scratch. I don't think you're a fighter at all." Aegnor chuffed and licked his tense lips.

"Then untie my binds, and I'll put your mind to ease," Aegnor hissed. Hagrath burst into peels of hysterical laughter, his crooked, yellow teeth illuminated by the dusty sunbeams. "You needle eared little prick!" He jeered, "I wanna see you beg me first!"

Aegnor's eyes narrowed as he regarded his captor, his voice low and grave. "Nay, you are mistaken in your presumptions. For I have already perceived the flaws in your design. It is clear you have no true understanding of the peril you now face. The path you take now matters not, for I have already discerned the means by which I shall bring about your demise. Your capture of me was but a fleeting victory."

 He paused, his gaze piercing. "So choose your next move carefully, mortal, for I assure you - it shall be your last." Hagrath's sneer faltered. He briskly attempted to regain his composure. "What flaws do you speak of?" He asked.

Aegnor's eyes locked with Hagrath's, his voice dripping with icy resolve. His words laced with a bone-chilling certainty as he replied, "Leaving me alive,"

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.

 "Nooo!" A piercing roar of horror and rage tore through the air, emanating from the depths of his being.

  Like a wild animal trapped in a cage, Aegnor was unleashed. Seething, his wild eyes darted around as the men closed in on him. Driven by a need to prove himself, it was Baryn who inflicted the first blow. But Aegnor was too swift for the younger male.

 With lightning-quick feet, Aegnor gracefully dodged his strike and delivered a stomach churning blow to Baryns stomach with his knee. Knowing he was being watched by his mentors, the infuriated Baryn recovered quickly and, drawing a knife and he lunged toward the battle hardened elf once more in a frantic fury.

    He proved to be no match for the agility of the Eldar as Aegnor bended far backwards, his shoulders hitting the ground just as Baryn had reached him. With one long, swoop of his strong leg, Aegnor launched Baryn over his head in a well timed back roll. The young man shot head first into an array of assorted, rusty tools. Breaking shards of sharp glass that crashed around him. One spiked tool that hung upside down above his head was knocked from its hoisted position and fell downward and straight into Baryns skull. The room was enveloped in a dramatic silence before the convulsing youth slumped against the wall of abandoned tools. The life left his body as blood oozed in slow tendrils down his gaunt face.

    The room was enveloped in a haze of dust and the echoes of shattered glass. The rest of the gang of men, enraged by the events, grabbed the distracted Aegnor. Together, they cast the bound elf onto the shattered glass he had wrought, pinning him down upon it and began mercilessly beating him with brutal force.

Loud thuds, slams, and grunts filled the old slaughterhouse as Aegnor was subjected to their vicious onslaught. Andreth cried and writhed against her bounds, desperate to protect her special friend. Who was utterly powerless to defend himself.

   As assault persisted, Aegnor proved to be far more resilient than they anticipated, refusing to submit his dignity.

   "Come on, break him!" Hagrath roared loudly, cheering his men on. "I wanna hear that pompous elf bastard screaming!"

   Amidst the chaos, muffled words escaped from Andreth's gagged mouth as she desperately called to Hagrath. Reluctantly, he removed the gag that silenced her, allowing her voice to emerge once more.

  "Stop it! Please, Hagrath, just stop it!" She pleaded with him, "Aegnor is no common elf! He is a lord of the realm! A prince! He is part of a circle of powerful lord's who will comb every leaf and road in search for your head if you don't stop!" Hagrath listened intently, his tired, red eyes fixed upon her while a tear of desperate sadness fell from her pleading, vacant gaze. "Please, take me instead, I won't resist, please... please don't kill him!" 

  "Ooo, little rabbits got feelings for her pretty elfman!" He jeered. "I knew it! He's been getting cosy with my girl!" Grabbing her chin, he leaned in. She flinched as he pressed his cracked lips to her ear. "First, I'm going to make him scream, then, he's going to beg, then he's going to die!"

    Andreth slammed her head into Hagrath's face, the force knocking a tooth loose. With mouth dripping with blood, he spat out his tooth before locking eyes with her, his furious glare warning of what was coming. She jolted as his fist slammed into her face, nearly knocking her unconsciousness. He quickly gagged her once more as she slumped against her ropes in a semi-conscious stupor.

   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. His bruised face hung down, eyes closed.

   Crimson blood streamed from his nose and brow. Towering behind him, one man stood brandishing a menacing rod over Aegnor's head. As if patiently waiting for Hagrath's command.

   Slowly, Hagrath approached the elf, who sat silently before him on the floor, whose demeanour was so disengaged it appeared as though he was sleeping. Aegnor's precious blade still clasped in Hagrath's hand glistened brightly in the sun. Hagrath whistled at Aegnor in an attempt to get his attention. But Aegnor did not respond.

   "Wake up!" Hagrath taunted. When Aegnor did not respond again, he picked up a small rock and threw it at him. It pinged against Aegnor's forehead. Yet still, he made no move.

 "Is he taking a nap!?" Hagrath asked, confused. His men snickered."I get that he's thousands of years old, but that's just plain rude!"

 His men laughed loudly, their cackles filling the air as a tear rolled down Andreths cheek. Hagrath slammed the wooden ground twice.

 "Hey!!" He yelled

  Aegnor slowly lifted his head and opened his eyes. Locks long hair spilt over his eyes. His gaze hard and his face stiff. Hagrath nodded to the man standing over Aegnor. "Let's try this again!" He hissed

    Aegnor jolted as the metal rod was forced into his neck. Pulled upward, It crushed his throat, jamming the elf's head against the henchman's abdomen. Aegnor released a sharp pitched yelp as it was pulled tighter. The henchman then yanked the rod upwards, which forced Aegnor's head to lift also, exposing his unprotected throat.

   Hagrath grinned wide, relishing in his power over Aegnor. He knelt before him, bringing his face but mere inches from Aegnor's. "Let me devour those eyes," he hissed.

   Aegnor glared at him, his gaze, fierce and unwavering while Hagrath gazed lingeringly back, almost longingly. Then, Hagrath traced the cold, sharp tip of Aegnor's blade along the edges of Aegnor's toned, smooth cheek. He stopped when he noticed Aegnor's lips. Their plump curves and moist surface draw his sadistic gaze closer

   "You must capture a lot of attention from women with lips like those, even the fair Andreth, you have her wrapped around your little finger, don't you!" He grinned. "For six whole years she has rejected my advances, her father outlawed me, only now to offer me a warm place between her legs just to save your pathetic life!"

   Sudden peals of scornful laughter burst from Aegnor, a sound that carried between them as he blatantly mocked his capture's revelation. His laughs were met with a loud slap across his face by an enraged Hagrath, the resounding crack split through the room.

   Aegnor squirmed as the rod was yanked hard into his neck, crushing his throat and lifting his head as high as it would lift. He felt a sharp, cold kiss of an object upon the exposed area of his vulnerable throat as Hagrath teased it with the blade, sending Aegnor into a heightened sense of alert. Andreth burst into muffled sobs, watching helplessly as she witnessed what she believed to be the demise of her special friend.

   Lost in his sadistic, carnal pleasure of witnessing Aegnor's torment, the knife Hagrath held to Aegnor's throat was unconsciously pulled away. Aegnor's eyes bore into Hagrath's , and he flashed a sinister grin.

 "Fool!" Hissed Aegnor,

His binds severed, Aegnor revealed from behind his back a large shard of broken glass and launched it into Hagrath's head through under his jaw. A sickening sound erupted from him, and he collapsed, convulsing violently. Aegnor then grabbed the rod at his throat and threw his torturer, and inpaled him to the floor through his stomach.

 Aegnor retrieved his weapon that had slipped from Hagrath had dropped, and he plunged it into henchman's head. His loud screams silenced immediately.

   Aegnors murderous gaze then turned to the last remaining man. The sight he beheld in Aegnor in that moment caused his veins to turn ice cold. He beheld not a benevolent elf, but the ire of a wrathful demon, hungry for revenge. The man fled the scene. Aegnor pursued him. Flying at the mad with such speed, the wind he created rattled more hanging tools.

  Seizing him behind, Aegnor slashed his throat from ear to ear with such brutal force it nearly severed his head completely. Andreth watched in horror as the man gurgled, and blood spurted from his throat. Aegnor haphazardly dropped the lifeless body, which slumped to the ground like a sack of rotten potatoes. Andreth watched, utterly petrified by the scene before her. Aegnor stood motionless, his back turned to her, his heavy breathing slowing to a normal pace, until he slowly turned back to Andreth. She remained bound to the metal pole, her face etched with terror, frozen in fear. Blood splattered across Aegnor's face, clothes, and hands. The intensity of his monstrous visage swiftly dissipated, and cautiously, he approached her trembling figure. Tenderly, he raised his hand and gently stroked her cheek, offering reassurance

 "Are there more of them?" 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 his body, sobbing loudly. Aegnor embraced her, allowing her tears to flow freely despite the protests, but he didn't dare wince, knowing the solace was desperately needed.

   Low, guttural grunts and yelps echoed through the air, originating from Hagrath. Aegnor and Andreth abruptly separated from their embrace, and Aegnor, grasping Andreth's hand, followed the sounds to their source. Hagrath lay sprawled in a pool of his blood, desperately attempting to crawl away while a fragment of glass protruded from beneath his jaw, tainted crimson. His breath came in erratic, shallow gasps, and his wide eyes quivered with fear. Aegnor's fury reignited at the sight. He grabbed Hagrath and flipped him onto his back, and stood over him, lifting him off the ground by his garments. Knife in hand.

   "Aegnor!" She cried,  his head whirled, locking eyes with her tear stained face. "No!" She whispered, her head shaking. He hesitated for a brief moment, but the cut on her face, the wound Hagrath inflicted upon her, served to remind him otherwise. That could not go unpunished.

 "If you do not wish to witness, then look away!" he growled. 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 now!" he uttered, his voice heavy. 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. His broken skull and fragments of his rib cage were exposed, while his severed limbs lay scattered like discarded dolls. The only recognizable feature amidst the carnage was strands of his sandy red hair, severed and scattered near his head.

    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.

○○○

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 large scar on his left shoulder, a mark of their shared history, and a testament to his unshakable commitment to her. 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 him3qz!" He hissed, his eyes darting at her. "He will never harm anyone again!"

  Gratitude and tenderness filled Andreth's voice as she whispered, "Thank you..."  

  Aegnor's silence persisted, his eyes distant, consumed by a storm of thoughts. They sat side by side, enveloped in a heavy silence that carried the weight of unspoken emotions. She trembled, her voice laced with concern. "You're hurt..." she whispered, reaching out her hand in a sincere offering of help. Aegnor stubbornly ignored her gesture, his face hardening with stoic resolve.

  "It is a mere wound," he grumbled dismissively.

  "You are bleeding, Aegnor. Let me at least bind it for you," she insisted, her voice firm yet laced with genuine concern.

   Aegnor's stormy temperament darkened further, his gaze avoiding hers, his features etched with restrained fury. Leaning forward, Andreth extended her arm, her touch gentle as she clasped his arm, her voice beckoning him with compassion and understanding. The sudden, unexpected contact jolted something within Aegnor, causing him to explode with an intensity that sent him yanking his arm violently out of her grasp.

  "Stay your hands! I welcome not the touch," he roared, rising swiftly from his seat. Andreth quailed, retreating from him. "Do you hold your life so fleeting?" he bellowed, his voice cracking with the tumult within him as he paced vehemently around her. "Once afore, you were beset by that loathsome parasite, yet you venture forth from the sanctum of you dwelling without an escort, knowing he still stalked the land!?" Andreth remained silent, her eyes wide with stunned terror, Aegnor heaved, his eyes glowing fiercely as he continued, "I have seen the face of true evil, and men like that-," his arm swept forcefully pointing in the direction of the old slaughter house, "are the very embodiment of it!

 "Please, Aegnor, do not yell!" She pleaded.

 "What dire fate would have befallen you had I not been there?" he roared, his voice coarse with pain. "Andreth, what would have become of you?"

 "I don't know, Aegnor!" She cried out in retaliation. He stared at her in silence as if waiting for more words from her, but she had nothing else to say.

 "Nay Andreth, such an answer falls short!" he retorted, his voice tremulous and filled with anguish rattling the silence between them.

  He turned away from her, distancing himself from the scene, his silhouette fading as he sought a moment of respite in seclusion along the tranquil banks. Meanwhile, she stood there, her heart pounding within her chest until the echoes of his footsteps were swallowed by the distance he had put between them. Alone, the weight of her burdens became too much to bear. She crumbled, consumed by a tempest of anguished sobs, her fragile form trembling in the grip of despair.

​​​​​​​

The crickets and owls chirped and hooted in the trees around the makeshift camp. The darkness of the forest at night still terrified Andreth as she sat alone, silently by the fire. Her only source of light. 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, which 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. She 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 in his muscular arms

   "Did you find her?" She inquired hopefully.

   "Only the parts the wolves left behind," Aegnor grunted, dropping his bloodied saddle on the ground with a thump. In suppressed frustration, he stuck his blade into a log of wood and flopped down beside her, staring blankly into the flames. Andreth sighed deeply with disappointment and sank back down onto the log.

   "What do we do now?" She asked, gazing solely at the fire.

   "We wait for daybreak, then, we will decide," he replied simply. 

    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 smooth porcelain leg caught him completely off guard. His eyes lingered on it. Her fingers traced delicately over the long cut in her thigh as small trickles of blood slid down its perfect curve.

    He tensed slightly, tearing his gaze away. He then observed her futile attempts to tear fabric from her dress, desperately trying to fashion a makeshift bandage. The stubborn fabric refused to yield to her determined efforts, frustrating her further. He plucked his knife from the log beside him and extended it towards her. An air of tension hung between them, and in that moment, their eyes locked, conveying unspoken words.

    With hesitant hands, she tentatively accepted the blade, its polished surface catching the flickering glow of the fire. The blade effortlessly glided through the fabric of her dress, parting it with graceful precision. The soft rustle of fabric echoed around them, harmonizing with the weighty silence that enveloped them. He looked at her again. A tear fell from her eye, and she quickly wiped it away. Aegnor's gentle smile quickly faded as the crackle of the fire echoed around them. His face sunk into his chest in regret.

    "I am sorry, Andreth," he whispered, his voice heavy with remorse. "Truly, I am," A profound understanding passed between them as their eyes met, the wound on her cheek serving as a stark reminder of her suffering. "I could not allow him to live, not after what he inflicted upon you. I frightened you beyond measure today. It was never my intention nor my desire for you to see me in such a monstrous light."

    Gazing into his eyes, Andreth suddenly broke into desperate sobs, her pain and anguish pouring out. Guilt and regret consumed him. He waited patiently, allowing her tears to subside before speaking once more. "I should have killed him upon our first meeting. I should not have allowed him to live,"

   "Hagrath was an outcast! A bad man!" she croaked, her eyes still fixed on the ground. "Many years ago, he subjected a maiden to his forceful affections. When the matter reached my father, he banished him from Ladros, never to return. Many believed he was too merciful, and it caused much unrest." She paused, her voice heavy with emotion. "What you did to him, Aegnor, was monstrous and cruel... and rightly deserved! Let him rot into the earth with his black heart!" she growled into the flames. It cracked loudly, carrying the weight of her words.

   "I know his kind," replied Aegnor softly, "such beings seize hold of innocence, only to bring it to ruin," he whispered, his face a torrent of sadness, "You will not share the same fate, you are...," he paused thoughtfully. "Much to important to me." He turned to her. 

   Andreth valiantly battled the painful lump in her throat, her heart heavy with the weight of Aegnor's profound confession. Her slender frame trembled, and her voice quivered as she spoke. "He taunted me while you lay unconscious. Declaring that you were to bear the burden of my rejection." Her voice faltered, and she whimpered, "I was certain he would kill you, just as he has ruthlessly snuffed out the lives of others before."

   "Come, Andreth..." Aegnor softened. He extended a hand, placing it gently upon her shoulder. "Have you not even a little faith? It would require far more than a mere handful of pitiful fools to bring me any challenge. " he smiled softly. 

  "But you laughed... you laughed when he told you what I had done. You laughed because you thought it was lies. It was not!" She protested tearfully.

  "I laughed because it was humorous," he replied simply, "that he would try to bait my anger by revealing how little you regarded him, and whatever he claimed regarding you, would never come to be. That is why I laughed." 

   With a ragged sigh, Andreth vigorously wiped her eyes until the tears had subsided. Her gaze fell upon the knife Aegnor had given her, and she couldn't help but be captivated by its beauty. Its pristine condition made her sense the depth of Aegnor's care for it. It held great significance to him. Andreth marvelled at the exquisite craftsmanship of the blade. "It's no wonder that swine desired this weapon for himself. I've never seen a finer blade in all my years," she marvelled. Aegnors eyes drew to his blade nestled in her lap.

  "It was a gift," he explained, "from my Atar, he bestowed it upon me when I was a youth, it has never left my side from that moment,"

  "Atar?" She asked, confused.

  He smiled softly, remembering that she was not well-versed in his own language. "My father," he explained. "He did not accompany us on our journey to these lands. This blade -" he continued, his gaze resting upon the cherished weapon in her hand, "is the only remnant that I have left of him, It's invaluable to me..." his voice trailed off into a gentle breath as he thought of his father.

  "It is a most exquisite gift," she said, her voice. brimming with grace as she delicately returned it to his waiting hand. Her gentle touch conveyed a deep respect for the profound significance it held within his heart.

  "Among my kin, the children can only play with mere sticks, pretending to wield swords. Your father must have bestowed great trust in you," she smiled

  "Since my early days, I have been graced with the talents in the martial arts," he replied with a solemn air. "It is through this very weapon that I honed my skills to perfection. Now, there stands no enemy who would dare challenge me."

  "Surely, you had friends," Andreth responded curiously.

   Aegnor's countenance tightened, his gaze unwavering from the flickering glow of the flames, which veiled the depths of his feelings. "Long ago, I had come to learn that even those you may call companions will betray your trust," he replied." Some paths are better walked alone,"

  "How lonely that sounds," she murmured

  "Alone, but safe."

   The owls hooted in the heavy stillness.

  "Do you trust me?" she asked. He turned his eyes to hers, his soft gaze laced with sincerity.

  "In my time of distress, you saved me when I could not save myself. Our bond was forged from that single moment in our history. And I could not trade such trust for all the treasures in Arda. You alone have it,"

    Andreth's eyes sparkled with unwavering devotion. Aegnor solemnly gazed into the crackling flames, his thoughts far-wandering. Her eye's drew every corner of his face, its beauty unparalleled and mysterious. Yet her admiration turned to concern when she spied the prominent, dark bruise at the top of his throat, and she could not help but tense at the sight, a wave of worry washing over her. The urge to reach out and touch him, overwhelming her.

   "My sister," he muttered quietly, "We were inseparable once... Not a day went by when we did not share deep things. She was the only one I have ever trusted with my deepest self. Our bond, unbreakable."

    Andreth witnessed his hands tighten around each other. His demeanour changed to a swarm of deep sadness, his eyes swelling with sorrowful tears.

   "Oh, Aegnor, what happened?" She asked delicately. He blinked, and a tear spilt from his eye.

   "We do not speak," he sniffed. "It has been an age since we last gazed upon each other,"

His grim expression stiffened as he fought to hold back his tears. "I lost my friend,"

The raw, weak tremble in his voice as he spoke broke Andreth's heart. She regarded him with sincere compassion.

   "Aegnor," she whispered, shifting close beside him. She placed her hand on his arm as he stifled his sobs. "I understand how deep you feel this pain, and that you bare its burden alone, It is not wrong to surrender to its grief at times." She leaned in closer, her lips but a breaths distance from his ear adorned with silver piercings as a thin scar, long healed along its sharp, pointed edge. "Even you are not made of stone,"

   Aegnor sighed, the trembling release of emotion blew from his lips, but his tears still flowed.

   "Sometimes I feel... so utterly alone." A fragile whisper escaped him, his gaze soaked with weepy tears met hers.

   "You saved my life that fateful morning on the mountains, where we first met, when I was but a stranger in your eyes," she whispered with heartfelt tenderness. "You risked everything, all for my sake, and now, I understand why. Beneath the walls you have built around you, Aegnor, you are just as afraid and as lost in this world as I,"

   Aegnor stared at her. The silence between them hung heavy as his stunned expression held her gaze, pregnant with raw emotion. In that moment, he bared before her eyes, his very soul manifested in a single, glistening tear.

   Her gaze drifted to the alluring sheen in his hair. She recalled in her minds eye, a timeless moment she first attempted to touch such a forbidden treasure. With trembling fingers, she slowly raised her hand, A silent plea to fulfil a desire long supressed. His eyes stared into hers for a moment that seemed like a lifetime. Her heart thundered within her chest like a thousand war drums as her gentle hand hovered in front of his face. Waiting for his invitation. His gaze raw with vulnerability, slowly shifted back to the comforting glow of the fire. In that unspoken reply suspended between them. He granted Andreth her desire.

    With delicate, trembling fingers, she caressed the golden strands, captivated by their otherworldly beauty as they shimmered between her fingertips. A longing sigh escaped her as the silken tresses slipped from her grasp.

    His eyes lingered on the fire. Their heavy, dewy lids blinked slowly. Then, moistening his lips, his eyes shifted to meet hers. Andreth gasped as she saw their pools, dark as the blackest night. In that charged moment, his vulnerable, sultry gaze stilled the breath within her. Their eyes locked, a fleeting moment charged with unspoken longing. A tremor passed through her, a shaky breath escaping her parted lips as the firelight cast a bewitching glow upon his intense gaze.

   Her eyes fixed on him, her senses drinking in his nervous scent. He swallowed tensely as she drew nearer, his eyes shifting to her parted lips. She surrendered fully, closing her eyes and stopped. His eyes lingered on her lips, hesitation wavering, he surrendered to the pull and closed the remainder of the distance. She gasped deeply with anticipation as his velvety, parted lips slid along the curves of hers. Melding in a dance of restraint and equal desire. Soft, laboured breaths ghosted between them as she eagerly anticipated the promise of a passionate kiss.

"Nay!" His abrupt whisper and immediate withdrawal startled her. He leapt to his feet and stepped away, putting distance between them.

   "Aegnor!" She cried jolting also to her feet. Knowing her grave mistake, she gently reached out and attempted to touch him in a desperate attempt to reconnect. He whirled around and wrenched his arm free from her grasp.

    "Aegnor please!" She sobbed, pulling her arms into her chest, her eyes swelling with unmistakable tears of deep regret. The look of betrayal in his eyes devastated her.

    "Aegnor..." She whimpered

She broke into tears, utterly heartbroken. Her terrified gaze pleading with his. His fragile expression revealed his profound hurt. He turned his back on her, retreating into the shroud of darkness alone, leaving her behind in a tempest of anguish. She called out to him once more in a final weak attempt, but her pleas for forgiveness were met with an impenetrable wall of deafening silence

   Her fragile heart shattered completely. She sank back down to the log, her soft sobs sniffling in the gentle night air as the forest owls witnessed her turmoil, offering her comfort with their lonely toots.

   Amidst her tears, a glimmer caught her eye — 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 memory, a voice echoed from his memory, a females voice, calm and angelic.

"You are a good and kind man," Marúel echoed.

Hers was followed by another voice, one that once brought him great sense of comfort. Replaying a lonely memory from his youth, long buried.

"Are these the ones that brought this onto you?" The ghostly voice echoed. "What punishment would you bestow upon them for the cruelty they inflicted upon you?" Finarfin asked

The voice of a much younger Aegnor replied, "Beseech the king to show them mercy, and let them go,"

  "I am proud of you, my son," Finarfin's voice answered.

His breaths transformed into deep, anguished pants that gradually evolved into soul-stirring sobs as he sank his head into his knees. As he wept unabashedly into the velvet darkness, he remained oblivious to Andreth's presence, the knife held firmly in her hand. She paused, listening to the echoes of his desperate cries, her expression shifting from anguish to a profound compassion that resonated within her. Silently, she turned away and retraced her steps back to the camp, leaving him to grapple with his inner 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.

   "Rest... sweet child," his voice came, whispered into the air as soft as the song of gentle rain.

   He sat at her feet and gazed at the flames. His mind cursed with many thoughts as he soaked in the comforting glow. 

​​​​​​​

   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 enveloped her in a serene atmosphere, filling her with a profound sense of inner peace. 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, her voice carried on the breeze. The song of the birds was her only response. Aegnor was nowhere in sight. Suddenly the memory of the past night came back to her, and her stomach turned within, riddled with a deep guilt. "He trusted me, and I overstepped my boundaries...he was right to abandon me here," she thought, her mind as fragile as her heart, "In my moment of weakness, I allowed my desires cloud my judgement.. and I near lay upon his mouth a sweet kiss. Now he has left me here. I was a fool to lay a hope that he could ever love me," a painful lump nestled in her throat. "Andreth... you hopeless fool!"

    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, the sunbeams filtering through the foliage casting a glow upon her as she delicately ran her slender fingers through her cascading locks. Her mind escaped miles away.

    Finally, she left the camp behind. Picking up her satchel. Her footsteps were guided by the whispers of the wind and the gentle rustling of leaves. She wandered through the enchanting forest, her footsteps barely making a sound on the soft grass. Like a graceful swan, she moved with ease, captivated by the peacefulness that surrounded her. 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 momentarily as a playful squirrel scurried up a tree, its mouth filled with a tasty nut. She smiled softly as it scampered into its home and out of sight, warm and safe. Her gaze shifted to her way forward and a sudden thought took her. "What am I to do now...with Aegnor gone...I know not the way home,"

She sighed heavily, thinking about all the things her father would say to her. As she wondered a few steps, a firm, warm hand gently clasped her wrist from behind her. Startled, she spun around to face her offender to see the face of Aegnor, beautiful and soft gazing back at her. Without uttering a word, he motioned for her to be silent, placing a finger on his lips.

    "Shh," he whispered, his eyes filled with a mix of excitement and urgency. He gestured for her to follow him, and she complied, curiosity piqued. Silently, Aegnor led her to the edge of the forest, where a vast grassy field stretched out before them. Andreth couldn't help but gasp in delight at the sight that unfolded before her eyes. In the centre of the field stood a magnificent horse, a true embodiment of grace and strength. Its coat and mane shimmered like onyx, contrasting beautifully against its long, powerful legs. The horse flicked its tail contently as it grazed on the lush, sweet grass. Aegnor and Andreth crouched low, concealed by the tall grass, observing the majestic creature in awe.

    "What a magnificent beast!" Andreth exclaimed in a hushed tone, her voice filled with amazement.

    "He wandered into our camp at daybreak, 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 assistance."

    Andreth softly asked, "What would you have me do?"

    "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?" 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 magnificent beast 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.

     Aegnor watched in admiration of her gentleness. 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, captivated by the moment. 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 and looking deep into its eyes.

    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. Andreth stared in awe at Aegnor as he steadied the wild stallion, his large muscular arms tensed and bulging with every pull on the sturdy vine chord. His gentility and patience were unmatched as he worked to conquer the powerful beast.

    With soft hums and soothing moans from Aegnor's buttery voice, the horse gradually came to stillness and snorted, indicating its readiness. Aegnor gracefully hopped 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 while before we reach Ladros, so we can not stop, " Aegnor stated firmly.

    "Aegnor?" Andreth said softly, wrapping her hands around his tight waist. Aegnor turned his head over his shoulder, curiosity twinkling in his eyes as he awaited her words. Andreth, her voice caught in her throat, leaned in closer, nervously holding her breath. With tenderness, she brushed her lips against Aegnor's cheek, a delicate kiss filled with affection, gratitude, and longing. A sweet smile curled on his lips, a secret expression hidden from Andreth's view.

    With a loud click of his tongue, the majestic stallion instantly responded to Aegnor's command, forging an unspoken connection between them. Together, they embarked on a journey bound for Ladros, just as they had done once before. The horse's sinewy muscles rippled beneath its sleek coat, propelling them forward with graceful strength.

    As they traversed the expansive open plains of Dorthonion, the wind danced around them, intertwining Aegnor's golden tresses with Andreth's dark locks, symbolizing their unbreakable bond and the blossoming of their friendship. With a raging fire within him, he tested the stallion's endurance, its muscles coiled like springs ready to unleash its power.

With a resolute kick, he urged the majestic steed into a breath-taking gallop, their combined force propelling them forward with the grace of a fleeting spirit, effortlessly surpassing even the fleetest elven breed. Clinging tightly to Aegnor's powerful form, Andreth couldn't contain her sheer delight, her voice soaring in a symphony of exhilaration as she surrendered herself to the liberating embrace of their ride.

     Her infectious joy intertwined with the thrill of the moment, causing Aegnor's laughter to bubble up from the depths of his being. In that fleeting instant of ignited passions, the weight of all his past hardships since leaving his homeland, as well as the looming trials that awaited him, faded into insignificance, like distant echoes dissipating in the wind.

    Gliding along the tranquil shore of Lake Ailuine, Andreth nestled her head into Aegnor's broad back, her grip tightening around him. Reluctant to let go of this precious moment, she clung to her beloved elf, his presence illuminating her heart like a guiding beacon, his intoxicating scent filling her nostrils. The sensation of her tender embrace behind him caused Aegnor's once impenetrable façade to crumble in her arms. He had never experienced such tenderness before, a profound longing for her gentle touch and devoted care that shattered his every guarded instinct. In her presence, he discovered a vulnerability he welcomed, and it intoxicated him.

    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. "Bregor's new wife must have blessed him with the gift of a baby!" She exclaimed excitedly.

     Aegnor turned his head to look at her, his curiosity piqued. "It has only been nine months or so since they were wedded," he mused. "Pregnancy among your kind must be shorter than those in elves!" A smile played at the corners of his lips. "Nevertheless, it is truly a joyous occasion!"

     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 concern.

    "It would undoubtedly make for a more compelling tale," he replied, 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 as she approached. She finally came to a stopped, her eyes heavy with shame cast upon the floor. Silence hung in the air, the weight of unspoken words pressing upon them. Boromir bowed his head defeatedly and let out a long, heavy sigh, struggling to calm the storm within him.

    "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 stated, and Aegnor nodded respectfully. "Andreth, my child, your absence has caused your mother and me a great deal of pain. Bregor missed the very birth of his child while searching for you! You can not fathom the rage and hurt I feel at this moment!" he yelled. "Whatever perilous ventures befell you, judging by the injuries on Lord Aegnor's face, they were grave! And once again, he brings you to our doorstep when he has an entire realm to protect!" His voice heated with rage as he awaited her response. "Speak!" He yelled.

    The tension in the hall was palpable as Boromir's words hung in the air, awaiting Andreth's response. Her eyes swelled with tears, and she looked upon Bregor. Concern mixed with relief washed his handsome face as he beheld his sister in such a terrible state.

    "I..." she whimpered, her breath hitching as she struggled to hold back her tears. Aegnor could witness it no longer.

   "Do not let you heart dwell upon the misfortunes of your daughter, Lord Boromir," Aegnor stepped forward, his steady voice echoing confidently in the hall. "It was upon a meadow of flowers I found her, my kin and I as she was was picking wild blooms in the hopes to ease Variel's weariness. It was then we were assaulted by a band of ferocious orcs and 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 your house as best she could,"

   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 hope 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!" 

    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. Aegnor hid his mouth behind his fingers in a feigned rub of his lips. Stifling his laugh.

    "Bregor has offered his forgiveness. 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 beside us, my daughter!" He requested, his voice competing with the crowd.

     "Nay, for I shall retire to my bed chambers, the orc attack has unnerved me," 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! Will you eat with us?" 

    Smiling respectfully, Aegnor shook his head. "Nay Boromir, though your sentiment is kind, I must swiftly depart" He bowed. A small girl emerged from underneath one of the tables parallel to the great hall and ran towards him, latching around his leg. Her young father came rushing after her but stopped when he witnessed the elf scooping her up in his arms and cradling her as she hugged his neck tightly. She was promptly followed by a swarm of children, their gleeful laughter filling the air as they crowded Aegnor. He knelt, immersing himself in a sea of tiny hands and arms, all eager to hold him. The young girls showered him with affectionate strokes on his face, hair, and neck, while the boys gathered around, peppering him with curious questions.

    Their innocent delight in his presence was like a radiant beam of golden sunlight. Andreth turned her gaze and beheld Aegnor, his laughter resounding with genuine warmth, as he embraced every child tightly, overwhelmed by their love and affection. The young girl's faces filled with concern as they tenderly caressed the small cuts on Aegnor's face and neck, their gentle touch a testament to their care and compassion. But Aegnor, ever resourceful, quickly transformed their worry into awe by spinning a magical tale of daring bravery, danger, and beguiling beauty. Just like their parents read to them in their storybooks. The children's eyes widened in amazement, hanging onto his every word as they were transported to a world of adventure.

    As Aegnor continued his captivating tale, Andreth couldn't help but smile at the sight before her. She marvelled at how effortlessly he connected with the children, bringing joy and wonder to their young hearts. In that moment, she saw a different side of Aegnor, a side that radiated warmth, kindness, and an undeniable bond with the innocence of youth.

    After saying his goodbyes, Aegnor gently hugged each child and rose to his feet. Looking around, Andreth swiftly followed Aegnor as he slipped out while everyone was distracted with their plates. The two of them found themselves bathed in the warm golden embrace of the low sunlight, 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, feeling a sense of awe and connection in its presence. She turned to Aegnor, admiration and affection in her gaze. 

    With a slight smile, Aegnor gazed down at her, his eyes filled with tenderness. A lengthy pause hung between them as they stared into each other's eyes, their hearts speaking the words that their lips had yet to utter. 

    Silently, he leaned closer. Her breath stopped as his face came near. Closing her eyes, she stood motionless as a statue. Upon her cheek, he placed a sweet, lingering kiss. Andreth could not summon the words to speak as he gently climbed upon his steed. His large muscles bulged as his beaten body protested every move. Staring down at her, he finally spoke

  "Before you lay down tonight, check the contents of your satchel," 

    His words puzzled her. She drew breath to speak, but as she did, he abruptly rode off, casting one final lingering stare upon her as he went. Watching him ride away, his words lingered in her head.

     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. Surely, he cared for her as she did for him. 

○○○

 HITHLUM 

 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. Celegorm and Caranthir, harbouring the least desire towards forging a newfound peace with the houses of Fingolfin and Finarfin, vented their grievances with an air of bitterness. 

    "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," Maglor 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 in that manner!" Maedhros interjected, his resounding voice wielding an authoritative power that instantaneously commanded their utmost respect, 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!" In a graceful progression, Maedhros departed from his solitude and rejoined the lively gathering. His departure was swiftly followed by the arrival of Maglor and Amrod, who were drawn to the warmth and camaraderie that emanated from the group.

    Meanwhile, Celegorm, Curufin, and Caranthir remained behind, immersed in their despondency, before reluctantly succumbing to the allure of the gathering 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 proudly brothers 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, Caranthir, Curufin, and Celegorm stubbornly huddled together in a shadowy alcove, distanced from the bright and jovial crowd, their reluctance to partake in the festivities only serving to heighten Maedhros' already arduous task. The trio muttered discontentedly amongst themselves, their distaste in the company abundantly clear.

    "I apologize on behalf of my brothers, esteemed King," Maglor spoke, a tinge of embarrassment colouring his soft voice. "Their hearts, 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. "They 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 cousins, 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, their full attention drawn to the trio.

    "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, licking his lips as they pulled 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!" Aegnor announced unabashedly. 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 momentarily bereft of a response that could challenge such a bold and brazen remark. With a haughty glint in his eye's Aegnor claimed his victory with a shallow dip, his arms open in a taunting bow. With that he spun on his heels and began striding away.

    "You dare to turn your back on me? 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. His eye's locked with his.

  "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 do so. You are nought but a wayward hound, pitifully picking at the bones of my kill," Aegnor's voice lowered to a soft, steady hum, dripping with potent venom. "You are nothing compared to me!" 

  "So fearsome Aegnor," Celegorm hissed, narrowing his icy grey eyes. "Yet, I know what you have been doing. It is very clear!" He whispered. Slowly, he began to circle him, his voice resounding loudly for all to hear. "It has come to my ears that Aegnor possesses little understanding of the events within his own realm! He is slipping and he is distracted!" 

  "Celegorm!" Maedhros growled. 

  Angrod watched with seething eyes as Celegorm berated his Aegnor, stopping in front of him again. Celegorm's taunting smile shined into Aegnor's thunderous scowl as he leaned in closer to his face. "Even those humble men and women whom you hold dear, that delightful house of Boromir," he added.

   "Get that name out of your mouth!" Aegnor growled, his bright eyes narrowing, his voice a low, primal rumble.

   "Perhaps I shall pay them a visit. I hear they have little ones!" 

    Aegnor's last restraint shattered like brittle glass, with a violent surge of pent-up rage. His hands instinctively clutched Celegorm's throat and forcefully pinned him to the unyielding wall. Celegorms' strong framed slammed into some furniture, knocking it over with a loud crash. The raw force of the act nearly knocked an unwitting musician from her stool, and she hastily retreated from the scene. 

    Finrod swiftly inteceded to control his brother. "Let go!" He demanded, but Aegnor needed more persuasion, "Aegnor! Let go!" He yelled

    Aegnor finally released Celegorm and he regained his footing. Heaving with uncontrolled rage, Aegnor's was pulled into a palpable distance. Pacing, he surged with forceful aggression as Finrod and Fingon stood between them, trying to pull his attention away, but his burning eyes remained fixed on Celegorm. Rising with a surge of aggression, Celegorm's temper blazed.

    "I blame you Felagund!" Celegorm roared clasping his throat. "Had you held tighter reins over your war hound, he would be faithful to his duties and not squandering his days, touching lips with a certain maiden!"

   Aegnor erupted from Finrod and Fingon's restraint, his powerful body launching forth in like an unstoppable force of nature. With lightning speed, he was once again upon Celegorm, pinning his strong frame down upon a table, ornaments smashed upon the ground with a deafening crash. Curufin and Caranthir rushed to aid Celegorm, but their attempts was foiled by Angrod who grappled their squirming bodies and dragged them away, shielding his brother from their onslaught.

    Helplessly watching the violence unfold, Finrod could only bear witness as his brothers, utterly consumed by fury, lost all semblance of control. With strength of iron, Angrod successfully held onto Caranthir and Curufin. Positioned intrusively between Celegorms knees, Aegnor delivered a barrage of bone-crushing blows, relentlessly pummelling the him into the unyielding ground.

    The sons of Finarfin, the paragon of prudent grace, transformed into primal brutes. Their actions defied all expectations of their refined nature. In that moment, grace and elegance were overshadowed by raw rage and terrible force. His merciless assault on his cousin would come to an abrupt end as Aegnor was wrenched away from the battered Feanorian by a pair of robust arms, and with unfathomable force, propelling Aegnor across the room in one fell throw. His body slammed to the ground with great force. The twisted rage on his face vanished, replaced by a stunned look that mirrored that of a chastised child. Fingolfin towered over his nephew. Casting a shadow over him. His glaring eyes fixed upon Aegnor.

    "Enough!" Fingolfin's voice reverberated through the room, a voice that held the power to captivate even the most obstinate of beings.

    "Stay where you are!" he thundered, pointing an unwavering finger directly at Aegnor, who, for the first time in his life, was truly terrified. Fingolfin's gaze then shifted, piercing and unyielding, to Angrod, who held Curufin and Caranthir in an iron grip.

    "Release them!" his command echoed, leaving no room for negotiation. Without a word, Angrod released his cousins from his vice-like hold, and they crumpled to the floor, their consciousness barely intact. Fingolfin turned back to Aegnor, his face sunken with a mix of anguish and disappointment. "I think it is time you left us, Aegnor!" Fingolfin's order, delivered with a sense of deep hurt and disappointment, was final. Angrod passionately protested in defence of his brother.

   "My lord! Your judgement is unfair! Celegorm antagonised Aegnor! He was right to deliver justice!" He argued

    "Truly Angrod! Do you not perceive the undeniable truth, which now validates the very words Celegorm claimed?" Fingolfin hissed. "Too long have Aegnor's impulsiveness festered, unchecked! 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 fighting amidst our own kin!" Fingolfin thundered, his resonant voice rending the walls asunder, a manifestation of his smouldering ire and grief. "I need soldiers! Not untamable wolves! I will not bear the loss of any more of us because of him!"

   Angrod could only hold his head in silent shame cast a glance at Aegnor, whose wounded eyes remained firmly fixed on the ground. Swiftly, Aegnor rose, eyes burning into his seething, wounded form as he weaved his stormy way through the onlookers. 

   "Then I beg you forgive me my lord," Angrod said steadily, "but where Aegnor goes, there too shall I follow."

    With a brisk yet respectful bow, he turned and strode after Aegnor, the two brothers retreating from the gathering in unison, exiting the palace through a side door. Their departure left the room in a deathly hush, save for the angry groans of Celegorm as he nursed his bloodied nose. 

    Slowly, Celegorm rose from the ground, his venomous eyes seeking his next target. "Send him away?! Is that all the justice you would mete out?" he spat furiously. "Nay, look at the mark he has left upon my face!"

    Fingolfin met Celegorm's glare with a fierce look of his own, the tension thick as the gathered lords and ladies held their collective breath, awaiting the High King's response..

    "Celegorm, you forget who it is that guards our realms, that we may partake in these fleeting moments of respite amidst the ravages of war, breathing the noxious fumes that billow forth from Angband's fell maws, that we need not quail before them. You have also failed to acknowledge whose martial prowess and valour in the field of battle have carried us this far, who bears the weight of that burden for us all, that we may roam freely! Aegnor dutifully serves his realm with steadfast loyalty to me, while you have sought only to exploit the fruits of his efforts. And if ever it came to choose between the two of you, I would sooner part with your pathetic, parasitic hide before surrendering Aegnor!"

   "He is not the only one who fights!" Celegorm retorted."I equally have walked in the paths he treads in, yet it is HE who receives the praise for OUR efforts! My brothers and I!" 

  "Celegorm!" Maedhros bellowed, his voice cutting through the thick air, his face a simmering scowl. "Stand down!" 

   With his fury manifestation in tense pants, Celegorm finally surrendered and quietly withdrew from the room with Curufin and Caranthir to nurse his bruised ego and broken nose. 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.

​​​​​​​

Norgothrond

   Alone, Aegnor stood upon the grand promenade, a breath-taking sight with two cascading waterfalls adorning each side of the expansive round balcony. Tall lamps ablaze with flickering flames stood like radiant beacons, casting their warm glow upon the vast and mysterious cave that housed his brothers' magnificent dwelling. The cave itself seemed to shimmer with an ethereal lustre, evoking a sense of timeless wonder intermingled with an undercurrent of solemn uneasiness, for it was a world far removed from the comforting embrace of sunlight and all that was familiar to him.

    As the gentle roar of the fire lamps echoed through the cave, lost in his reverie, Aegnor's nervous thoughts were abruptly interrupted as a delicate glass, brimming with wine, was presented to him. A female elven servant stood before him, her features gentle and her demeanour meek. Her straight auburn hair flowed down her petite frame, accentuated by a simple golden circlet adorning her brow. With a soft smile, he accepted the glass from the silver plate in her hands and brought it to his lips, savouring the taste. The servant gracefully retreated into the shadows.

   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. 

   A lone figure approached from behind him. His long, unbound hair flowed behind, smooth as fine silk. "Only you would infiltrate my kingdom Aegnor, leaving nary a trace for my vigilant guards to pursue," Finrod's sudden, mellifluous voice shattered Aegnor's daydream as he approached.

   "I did not wish to disturb your slumber... brother, " Aegnor stammered, his eyes averted, too ashamed to meet Finrod's gaze.

  "Disturb my slumber?" Finrod repeated, his voice catching a heavy glint of irony. "Were it not for my cherished assortment of exquisite jewels that you inadvertently toppled 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," Finrod retorted, a mischievous sparkle illuminating his eyes.

  "I tried, Finrod... You did not return any of my letters!" Aegnor responded, his voice tense. Finrod chuckled softly and, striding towards a small silver casket, he brought it to Aegnor and presented it's contents to his eyes.

"Are these the letters?" He asked

The contents revealed a meticulously bound collection of nearly a hundred opened letters, bounded neatly together with a ribbon. "I have read everyone, alas! The responsibilities of ruling a kingdom leave me scant time to pen even a solitary missive 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 shoulder. "You had presumed that a chill has overtaken my affections for you. Alas! Regardless of your poor discernment. I will never forsake you,"  Smiling gently, Finrod returned the box to its place.

"I know what you will say and you will be right. I have acted as a fool," Aegnor grumbled, as a still smiling Finrod returned the box to its place. Aegnor's robust arms leaned over the flat, stone balustrade. "Once again, I brought shame upon you and our house... please forgive me Finrod, I did not mean to let you down," he muttered, his voice laced with fragility. 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 Aegnor, a chest of white oak? The one atar always kept locked?" Finrod asked. 

  "Yes," Aegnor replied, "none of us could open it, for the key had been lost," 

His answer caused Finrod to look at him.

  "No, Aegnor," he smiled, "Do you not remember? The key was never lost. Atar fabricated the tale of the missing key though, truth was, he had it in his possession the whole time." Finrod paused as Aegnor clung to his every word. "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 you Aegnor."

His eyes fixed in Finrod's, Aegnor listened intently as he continued, "You were not so easily swayed and you saw straight through his deception. You alone persisted in harassing our poor atar until even his abundance in patience wore thin. Finally, he called us all to the chest. And from his clothing, he revealed the key to our eyes and opened the chest."

Aegnor, his brow furrowed and gaze intense asked  "What treasures did it hold within?" Finrod's answer came in a serene smile.

"Nothing, my brother," he replied. "It was empty. 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 another to control our thoughts, we lose the agency over ourselves." A pause enveloped the air as Aegnor absorbed the weight of the moment, his mind captivated by Finrod's powerful words.

 "I do not recall this!" Aegnor whispered to himself, utterly confused.

 "You were very young then, Aegnor. Not even the tender age of child years, yet even in those earliest days, you alone stirred unrest within Atar, for he discerned the immense strength and resolve that dwelled within, a formidable power indeed. Yet, he also saw a great vulnerability that was easily exploited and swayed 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 and poisoned your mind, and all the raw force you exerted upon him in that moment reminded me of Atar's great concern. And I am deeply troubled for you," the intensity in Finrod's eyes gravely wounded Aegnor. Utterly ashamed, Aegnor evaded his gaze completely.

"Aegnor..." Finrod called softly, Aegnor finally looked at him, "Is there any truth to what he claimed about you... and a certain 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 a manner," Aegnor relented, his voice laced with a palpable sense of defeat and a faint flicker of anger. "It is true, there exists one who now holds sway over the very governance of my thoughts." He sighed deeply, turning around, his back leaning heavily against the ornate balustrade.

   "For too long have I resisted her alluring call, yet she continues to draw me ever deeper into her thrall." A tremor passed through his frame as he confessed, "In a weak moment born of my fragility, I allowed her close, her soothing touch a balm to my fiery soul. Upon her lips, I almost succumbed to an intoxicating kiss, one that now curses my every waking thought."

   Finrod received this revelation with a solemn nod, his features etched with a calm understanding. At length, he broke the weighted silence. "This maiden of whom you speak," he began slowly, a subtle tremor betraying his cautious tone. "Is she someone known to me, Aegnor? A friend whom I have had the honour of meeting before, perhaps?"

   Aegnor paused, the weight of his tumultuous emotions palpable in the hush that followed. "Your paths have crossed before," he answered at last, his voice heavy with both longing and a hint of secrecy. "But her name I am unwilling to reveal, at least for now,"

   Finrod nodded quietly, his mind searching. He knew many suitable elf-maidens, exceptional in loveliness and nobility. All of whom would make a fine match for Aegnor indeed. Yet the sheer depth of Aegnor's emotional turmoil remained a cause for grave concern, etching lines of worry upon Finrod's fair countenance.

   "She holds dominion over my every thought, as if she cradles them within the very palm of her hand, I would willingly surrender all that I possess, if only to be near her, and I tremble when I hear my name, whispered in her breath," Aegnor sank slowly to the ground, a veritable heap of anguished turmoil etched upon his fair features. "What is this overwhelming sensation that grips me? It is a torment unlike any I have ever endured!"

    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?" He gently prodded.

  "Without a shadow of a doubt! She would willingly surrender all for me as I would for her!" Aegnor weakly replied.

   "My brother, you have finally been touched by the call of the feä!" Finrod exclaimed, his tone beaming with jubilation. Weary yet hopeful, Aegnor lifted his gaze from the palm of his hand, his countenance a tapestry of perplexed irritation, silently yearning for further explanation

  "It is the ethereal allure that draws kindred souls together, a spiritual bond woven amongst our kin," Finrod explained, his words infused with an ethereal glow. "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 tell, you are already well into its advanced stages."

   "This!?" Aegnor groaned. "This is the elated elevation of supreme grandeur that has sparked the punishing lectures upon me from both you and Angrod?" His countenance unimpressed and dishevelled. Finrod nodded, his smile blossoming into a radiant grin. "Pfft! It's abhorrent, and I hate it!" He 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," Finrod offered, his words imbued with an unwavering conviction. "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." He continued, gracefully lifting again.

   "How long will I feel this way? When will this contemptuous, 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 martrimony," he replied his tone light but tinged with empathy. "Alas, I too yearn for my beloved, Amarïe, and my feä and my hröa aches to be joined with her, 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. His features became bathed in an ethereal gleam, a harmonious blend of warm and cool tones that accentuated the beauty of his visage.

    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, I implore you, 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 and welcome this new addition into our fold," he continued, his words spreading a tapestry of hope.

  A wide, elated grin unfurled upon Aegnor's countenance, his cheeks ablaze with sheer delight. In the wake of Finrod's departure to his chambers, 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 ever again.

○○○

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 had the privilege of encountering him, 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, faced with these same trials and tribulations, 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. The lords exchanged glances, their expressions reflecting a mixture of determination, doubt, and a burgeoning sense of duty and so, within the flickering firelight of the great hall, the fate of Ladros hung in the balance; to abandon their ancestral home or to stand united, drawing strength from the elves.

    "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.

    The warm glow of the stables beckoned, offering solace from the cold touch of the rain-soaked autumn night. Andreth, her wet cloak clinging to her, slowly approached from the entrance, her heart pounding in her chest. The air crackled when at that moment, the weight of their unspoken words hung heavy, a silent tempest that threatened to consume them both.

    "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, audible, troubled sigh ghosted from his lips.

   "Have you seen war, Andreth?" he inquired, turning to her. Her breath danced in misty tendrils in the frigid air, her drenched form standing resolute against the tempestuous elements. "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 grew charged with anger, his words resonating with a haunting intensity. "And when you can no longer escape, they tear you asunder! Ripping away the very flesh from your bones 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  protect them?"

  "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."

  "I will not let you do this!" He whispered, shaking his head.

  "It is not your place to decide that! I chose this path, and I will not be quelled otherwise! Not even by you!"

    "Is that what you think of me?" He slowly advanced toward her, closing the distance between them. She tensed as he drew near, his footsteps creaking the wooden boards lightly with each measured step. "Is this truly how you perceive the depth of my care for you?" He murmured

   "No," she whispered fraily, her shimmering eyes finally breaking free from his penetrating gaze, casting them to the ground in retreat. "I did not mean to wound you, Aegnor,"

   His tension melted away, released in a long, soft sigh. The steam from his breath mingled with her damp hair. His lips tensed and leaned in close to her. She trembled as his lips stopped close to her ear, he whispered. "The agony of losing you to this war is one that I will not  be able to bear," his warm breath grazed her cheek and ear as he continued his heartfelt confession. "Andreth... I will perish without you."

    Her breath hitched with her 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.

   "Aegnor..." she trembled, "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 path."

    She turned away from him to leave. Swift hands seized her slender waist. With his body, he gently guided her back toward the wall. She stood pressed against the wall, and Aegnor, the gentle pressure of his strong body pressing softly into hers. She held his intense gaze, trembling with tension.

     "You speak with such conviction, yet there are truths you conceal within your heart." He murmured, his soft breath brushing into her face. Her eyes, shimmering in a bed of fragile tears, stared up into his. "If you truly believe your words, then go now, and you will look upon me nevermore,"

   Glistening round pools, teary and guileless, stared up at him, searching in the depths of his. Her quivering lip drooped as a tear spilt from her eye. Her chest heaving with deepening sorrow at his words. Seeing how much it affected her, Aegnor placed his hand on the wall beside her head. Deep, laboured breaths whispered from him as he grappled with his profound anguish.

   Soft rumbles of distant thunder and the lashing echoes of the torrential downpour whispered around them, bathed in the soft glow of the nights lonely moonlight.

   "Andreth,"  he murmured, "Can you truly not see the depths of my anguish?" he whispered, his fragility emanated in his raw voice.

   The soft brush of fingertips slid down her plump, pale cheek. Then, with a sudden, unexpected switch, the pad of his thumb crept along the plump curves of her soft lips and pressed down. A shudder rippled through Andreth's body, matching the low growls of the thunder that whispered outside. Her lips parted on a breathy sigh, every nerve ending alight with the electric thrill of his caress. Her eyes fluttered closed, fanning against her flushed cheeks. Her head fell back against the wall, exposing the arch of her delicate neck as a wave of blissful surrender washed over her. Aegnor breathed softly, his drunk eyes soaking all of it in. His voice, strained and hushed, he uttered the words.

"Can love exist between us..." he began, his thumb smoothing reverently across her trembling lips, "...without surrendering the deepest parts of us?"

    The weight of his question hung heavy in the air. 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 pushed out from under him and walked away. Her form sinking away into the night.

     Aegnor was left alone, his glassy eyes mirroring the look of one, abandoned in the sea of a thousand longings. Lost in the labyrinth of his own ruminations. A sombre veil of uncertainty descended upon his sunken heart. He gazed into the empty void where her presence once had occupied. The thunder roared, a manifestation of the raging storm that consumed him from within. A hope abandoned, he sank deeper into loneliness that numbed the pain in his heart. At least there, he could find a measure of solace, however small.

​​​​​​​

Chapter warning: Chapter contains violence and sexual themes.

    The assault on the men was 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 partake in the pursuit of justice. Instead, he entrusted the responsibility to his son, Bregor, who wasted no time in assembling a formidable army of courageous men.

    Equipped with his father's sword and Aegnor's cherished blade, a gift from Andreth, 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 and forced to continue the fight on foot. 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 orcs. Their yellowed teeth glistened with primal hunger, poised to feast upon his flesh. The ancestral sword, a relic passed down from his father, 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. With a desperate scramble, Bregor lost his footing, stumbling backwards in a frantic attempt to evade their clutches. But as the ravenous creatures lunged toward him, their claws and fangs bared, ready to tear him apart, a glimmering memory resurfaced in his mind—Aegnor's elven blade, the gift from his beloved sister, sheathed at his side. Without a moment's hesitation, he desperately drew the weapon from its scabbard, its gleaming edge tearing through the tense ring of orcs. She was branding the sword before the grotesque faces of his assailants.

    The moment the orcs laid eyes upon the elven blade, a chilling wave of terror washed over them. The closest orc froze in its tracks, emitting a primal shriek that pierced the air, its snarl of aggression replaced by pure, unadulterated terror causing a ripple through the bloodthirsty horde.

    The orcs recoiled violently from the sight of the blade. It dawned upon Bregor, with a sudden clarity, why the mere sight of this weapon had such a profound effect on his assailants. The blade carried the very essence of its true owner, his scent reaching the sensitive noses of the orcs sending them into a debilitating panic. Sensing a powerful authority emanating from the weapon, Bregor brandished it in front of them, taunting them with its presence. He mockingly charged forward, stopping just short of them. The orcs recoiled in terror, their unity shattered. Unable to withstand its presence among them any further, the orcs lost all nerve and, driven by their uncontrolled fear, viciously turned on one another. Slaughtering their own kind as Bregor watched bewilderingly.  The numbers dwindled until only a handful remained, and they fled in terror. Bregor, joined by the few surviving men, pursued them relentlessly until victory was achieved.

   However, the traumatic ordeal took its toll on Bregor's soldiers. Upon the long and wearisome journey home, one soldier, unable to bear the weight of the horrors witnessed, fell upon his own sword and took his own life. This fallen comrade had been a childhood friend of Bregor's, intensifying his grief and causing him to weep bitterly for many, many days.

    With a heavy heart, Bregor carried his friend's lifeless body back to Ladros, where he laid him to rest in a solemn burial. The cost of victory was etched deeply into Bregor's soul, a reminder of the sacrifices made in the face of unspeakable evil.

    Alone in his chambers, Bregor sat by the fire after washing his healing battle wounds with water. The horrors of his first battle still etched in his mind, and the grief of losing his most cherished friend burdened him greatly. As the firelight flickered on his muscular frame, a slender figure entered. Her features were soft, and her hair was fair, like the golden summer rain. His beautiful wife Variel, always loyal and gentle, came to comfort her husband. Sitting beside him upon their bed. She cleansed his wounds with her soft hands. Bregor welcomed her soft touch as she tenderly stroked his face and neck. The crackle of the fire echoed around them, and Bregor's vacant stare upset her greatly.

   "Will you not look at me, my husband?" Variel whispered into his arm. A tear spilt from his eye as he slowly turned to her. His dark hair coiled around his stubble jaw.

   "You did everything you could, my love," she whispered, gently brushing his hair away from his eyes.

   "I failed... I failed," he whimpered.

    "No," she replied, "You have returned to me safe and well, and that is all I ask of you, for my sake and our son." Her voice carried a soft determination.

  "I can not protect you, Variel! I can't fight those things!" he bubbled. She tenderly kissed the curve of his shoulder and stroked his hair. She saw his hands tightly gripping around Aegnor's blade. The memory of its power and how it saved his life, the fear it instilled in the orcs just by looking upon it replayed in his mind.

   "The blade in my hand, It belongs to a man far greater than I. His essence still seeps from it, the fear in the eyes of those creatures when they saw it...it was mt only saviour. Such power I can only dream of attaining." He sighed despairingly.

   Noticing his growing anguish, carefully, Variel took the blade from his hands and placed it down. Locking her gaze with Bregor's, she pressed her lips against his in a tender kiss. Bregor immediately embraced her, their lips meeting with fervour. They briefly parted, and she whispered in his ear, "Let us make love, my lord... allow me to be the vessel for your worries. Let me comfort you, as your lady and your wife,"

    Bregor readily succumbed to her. They eased themselves onto the bed, their bodies entwined, and their passion ignited. In this sacred embrace, Bregor found comfort and release from the burdens that weighed upon him. Variel, with her strong heart and her soft body, became his sanctuary, offering him solace 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. The rising sun painted the room in soft hues as its rays greeted their skin, heralding the arrival of a new day. Bregor and Variel remained locked in each other's arms, finding complete comfort and renewal in their shared embrace.

○○○

 Ladros

 382 A.D.

During the following eight months after Bregor's triumph over the orcs, Boromir, still recovering from his illness, took to his sickbed and penned a heartfelt letter to Felugund. Finrod, without hesitation, made immediate arrangements for a momentous gathering .to take place between the elves and men at the serene Lake Aeluin. Boromir gathered his family and prepared them for the journey ahead. Despite Variel's large, swollen belly, she insisted on accompanying them. Bregor harboured concerns for her well-being, but knowing her fondness for the elven lords would not deny her this joyous memory.  Andreth, on the other hand, expressed reluctance to go, torn between her desire to stay by her father's side, but his fervent insistence that she attended soon changed her mind.

   In a deep melancholy, Andreth packed her essentials for the long trip ahead. Her eyes were captivated by the sight of Aegnor's blade, resting on the bed in front of her. A moment of stillness enveloped the room as she found herself drawn to it. With a deliberate slowness, she extended her hand and gracefully caressed the hilt. A profound admiration for its supreme beauty washed over her, intertwining with the memories. Her fingers traced the contours of the blade in its leather scabbard. A painful choke tightened in her throat. She fought hard to resist the pain in her chest, yet it overwhelmed her, and her tears of sincere regret spilt down her soft cheek. She picked it up and held it close. How she missed him.

   She collapsed in a heap upon the floor beneath the weight of her anguish, her grey velvet dress sprawled around her. She released the punishing grief within her heart and sobbed passionately. Her tears pooled onto the floor.

   "I was wrong," her thoughts plagued her as she wept upon her bed during the many nights she waited for sleep. But sleep would never come to her. Her thoughts on their last meeting consumed her, fuelling her deep regret in her abandon of him in that raw moment of utter fragility. She left him. Too consumed with fear and selfishness. For a fleeting moment of desperation, she had forgotten all that he was to her and all that he had meant. She had lost him, never to look upon his eyes again.

   The caress of his fingers still lingered on her cheek. The promise of his lips, hovering so close to hers...these were the memories of him she clung to, though bittersweet they were, that she could continue to dream of what almost was and what could have been hers. Perhaps Finrod could offer her some solace. For at least through him, she could enquire as to Aegnor's welfare and that he was alive and well. This at least would put her mind at ease. He was, after all, his own brother, and through him, she would find peace.

    She collected herself and rose. She finished packing until a knock was heard at her door.

   "Andreth? It is Variel, may I come in?" A sweet, muffled voice sounded behind the large oak door. Andreth opened, and she entered with a bright beaming smile. Her belly was fully round and heavy with child. Andreth embraced her and guided her to her bed, sitting 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 for some respite from him!" She jested. Andreth smiled as she sat on the bed next to her. Variel caressed her belly tenderly, glowing with happiness. "It shalt be long now, will it little one?" Variel spoke into her belly. A tear fell from Andreths eye, and her gaze dropped to the floor in deep sadness. Variel saw her and grasped her hand. "My dear Andreth, what troubles you so?"  She whispered.

    Andreth's tears flooded, and she began to weep. Variel moved closer, her large belly awkwardly shifting with her movements. She comforted her sister in law with sincere tenderness.

   "There is a secret that weighs heavily upon my heart," she croaked. "A love that I have denied myself, a light extinguished by the shadows of my own making," Andreth spoke, her words trembling with the burden of unspoken love.

   Variel's brow furrowed with concern as she reached out, her fingers gently grasping her delicate hands. "Oh, 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, even in our greatest need, our hearts betray us. Perhaps there is still hope," she comforted her.

   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."

   "I am so sorry, my dear sister, I wish I knew the words to say," Variel moaned

   "Your consolation in this great time of my distress has brought me comfort beyond measurement, Variel. For that, I am eternally thankful," she smiled.

   "I shall leave you alone for now. We ride at the break of day. Try and rest and think of other things." Variel smiled and stood. She placed a tender kiss on Andreths forehead before departing, wishing her a goodnight. Andreth lay down and closed her tired, weepy eyes. But no rest came.

    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. Lady Anthel travelled in a comfortable closed wagon at the rear, her old age proving too difficult to ride. Beryl, the youngest and most spirited of the siblings, chattered ceaselessly to Andreth, expressing her eager anticipation of meeting Finrod Felugund. She lamented her lack of a suitable dress. 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, lost in her own depressive thoughts.

     They arrived at a brook, Variel dismounted clumsily once more, eager to relieve herself once again of the call of nature and 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 service! 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 screamed. "We were going to be married!"

   Andreth's 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 trio upon their arrival, their presence adding an air of enchantment to the scene. In the heart of the camp, a grand fire roared, casting dancing shadows and providing warmth. 

   After dismounting, Bregor sat about ensuring the comfort of his wife and his mother. As Andreth was yet revealing to Bregor what had happened to Beryl upon the journey, an elf approached them. His dark braided hair flowed down his slender frame. There was an air of serenity that enveloped him. Upon his head sat a simple silver circlet. He seemed to glide on air as he came. He bowed to Bregor with his arm folded across his chest and his fist upon his heart.

   "Bregor, of the house of Beör, son of Boromir. I am a steward of my lord Finrod." He spoke, his voice was like crystal.

   "It pleases my heart to meet you. Where is he? Is he not among us?" Bregor replied.

   "My lord has taken to the woodland to hunt for game. He will return shortly," he responded.

   "He need not worry, we have brought food a plenty with us, the fruit harvest was generous to us this year!"

    "My lord Finrod has a refined palette, nothing short of the best meat for his guests. And with his brother Aegnor leading the hunt, they are sure to return with a bountiful kill," Andreth's gaze lightened up,

  "Pardon my lord, but did you say that Aegnor was with him?" She asked.

  "Indeed," he replied formally. "To see all three of the princes of Finarfin ride together is certainly a sight to behold and one deserving of marking," He turned around as if something had caught his attention. He listened quietly. "Ah, here come our lords now, I must depart!" 

   He swiftly bowed and walked away in preparation to greet the sons of Finarfin who were swiftly riding toward the camp from the forest. Her heart pounded in her chest. 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 walked their horses into the encampment. Andreth took refuge behind the cloth of a tent. Her eyes fixed upon Aegnor. Smiling down upon the small croud of men and women, who eagerly ran to him. She took in every detail of him. Leaning back on Sorna, his prized black stallion, he pulled the reigns to a halt. His muscles strained against the fabric of his clothing. His straight, lean waist bending as 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. Within her body, a strange sensation began to rise. She felt as though it would burst from her chest. At that moment, Aegnor's bright smile died immediately, and he placed his hand on his chest, as if physically trying to stop something bursting forth from it. An intense pull he had never known before, he looked up to Andreth's position. She remained behind the sheet. Hidden away from his view. His chest felt tight as well as hers, their fëas crying out to one another. 

   She peeked out behind the tent to see he was gone. Long melded with the crowd.

   "Lady Andreth!" The rich voice reached her ears, and she turned and smiled at the approaching figure.

   "Lord Angrod!" She exclaimed, a wave of merriment infusing her soft voice as she graciously bowed in greeting.

   "We hoped to see you here. My brother's and I. How fares your father?" He asked.

   "How kind it is for you to think of my father in this troublesome time, his illness has taken it's toll, but he is determined to see it through" she replied, "I can see your hunt was fruitful."

   "The fruits of Aegnor's success," Angrod smiled proudly, "and there is plenty for all." Sadness enveloped her.

   "The siege grows ever more weary upon us. Tonight is a celebration for all, and the mood light and filled with cheer. Enjoy it," Angrod smiled and bowed, dismissing himself to join the party.

   Andreth watched him meld into the crowd. His resemblance to Aegnor was uncanny. Though, he lacked his fiery gaze that both enchanted and frightened her. She sighed deeply.

   "I should not have come...I should not have come,"  she trembled. Her petrified heart felt a flutter. Her tears overwhelmed her."I can not bear to look into his eyes again, knowing I abandoned him,"

  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.  She had nowhere to hide. In her gown of deep crimson, she joined the crowd of men and women around the fire. Noise and laughter fluttered around her as she walked serenely through them. 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 violently as she desperately held back her tears. Joy and sorrow overcame her, washing her away. Aegnor was stoic, yet his eyes betrayed his fragile heart as he stared silently.

   "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 from me, I will not hold it against you, Aegnor,"

   He stood unmoving. His stoic, unyielding gaze never shifting. Then he stood a lingering step toward her, closing the space between them. He reached and delicately clasped Andreth's hand in both of his held it between their bodies.

   "Lady," he murmured softly, his gaze fragile. "And just where do I go?"

   Her teary eyes were on their hands, and she burst into weeps. He gazed at her frailly as she released the grief within her heart before him. Tears of joy at the reunion of their hearts, overflowing.

Their shimmering eyes locked in an intimate embrace as if time itself acquiesced to their reunion. In an instant, they were spirited away to the moment when their paths first intertwined—a frigid morning in Dorthonion, where two lost souls, weary and bereft, discovered solace and solace alone in the other's gaze. Silence enveloped them, rendering words unnecessary as Aegnor bestowed upon her hand a gentle kiss.

   "Oh, Aegnor, 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, to night is a celebration of joy. Let us speak no more of the past, and look to the future." he replied. She nodded and wiped her tears.

    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 exists no greater a protector for my sister than you! I wish to make it official that you are her undisputed champion!"

    Andreths head sunk in her hand, her beaming blush betraying her intense embarrassment. Aegnor released a soft chuckled at her mirth.

  "I am tempted to accept such an offer," he smiled. An air of unwavering confidence seeped from Aegnor as he turned and locked eyes with Bregor. Clasping arms with him in a firm grip, "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 us, I would not be alive this moment. I owe the very existence of this child to your sake alone."

    With a warm smile, Aegnor inclined his head, acknowledging his appreciation. He responded with a voice suffused with gentle elegance. "Your wife is a treasure. Cherish her,"

   Bregor nodded. "Though I am protective of my younger sister, tonight, I entrust her utterly to you. Drink with her and be merry; I welcome 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 elated!" Aegnor chuckled warmly.

   "It is both his dream and his duty to become a father. Having a son has certainly changed him for the better," she smiled. Aegnor's smile turned to a frown, and his eyes fell to the cup in his hand filled with wine.

   "I empathise with his strong desire. To sire a child of ones own is life's greatest fulfilment." He paused, sadness shrouded him completely as Andreth witnessed this rare moment of vulnerability in him.

   "Will you too embrace fatherhood someday, Aegnor?" She asked.

    With a melancholic smile, his eyes lifted once more to her. His jaw clenched with tension. Andreth's own smile faltered as his countenance bore a fragile vulnerability that surprise even her, as if the words he was about to speak carried the weight of a thousand worlds.

   "Above all things in this world, I long for a child of my own, that I may bestow upon my child the boundless love I keep locked away within my heart, for such a love... I would give anything to have." he murmured. A warm hand rested on his forearm as she offered him a comforting touch.

  "Aegnor, you are good and true. There are many who love you. You are deserving of all these things, 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. "In time, you will have all you desire. There is no need to carry this weight any longer." She smiled.

   His lips pulled into a beautiful, fragile smile as his eyes poured into her all his burdens. The tender moment shared between them was amplified when Aegnor, his gaze held in hers, raised his cup, inviting Andreth to do the same.

 "Then, let us drink," he proclaimed boldly. Grinning widely, she raised her cup also, mirroring him. "To indulgence and liberation, and a boundless night followed by the radiant dawn!"

The glimmering silver caught the flickering light of the grand fire. As the chalices met with a harmonious clink. They drank in unison. The beverage was divine and velvety as it slipped down her throat like warm honey. The sweet, succulent taste, the warm afterglow as it entered her stomach, she had never tasted such a pleasure. She was but into her second gulp when a sudden, extreme dizziness took her.

   Her head felt heavy and light at the same time as her vision blurred. As Aegnor finished the last few drops in his chalice, letting them slip down his throat, he opened his eyes, and he became immediately concerned. She swayed heavily to the side as her feet threatened to give way beneath her. Aegnor swiftly pulled her body into him as she fell, holding her upright.

   "Andreth?"

Her glazed eyes met his as she struggled to keep them open, and her look of extreme confusion troubled him greatly. He steadied her face with his hand, clasping hit firmly beneath her jaw, his eyes studying hers.

   "Andreth!?" He cried.

   The chalice slipped from her hand, causing its dark contents to spill onto the grass below, some of it spilt onto Aegnor's boots. Aegnor scooped it up and brought the now empty chalice to his nose, sniffing it. The unmistakable scent that wafted from it. In that instant, realization dawned upon him. A fleeting rage crossed Aegnor's brow, and he glared down into the cup, his grip on it tensing. In the same instant, Andreth's legs gave out from beneath her, and she collasped again. 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.

   "Angrod!" Aegnor roared for his brother, ("come quickly!") Angrod appeared from the crowd as Andreth watch being pulled through it, ("What has happened!?") Angrod asked quickly

  ("She has unwittingly partaken of a draught your perilous wine!") Aegnor replied, harsh elvish words rumbled from him like thunder. ("Do you have the ingredients to make Eldarvine?") He added.

   ("Yes, I shall make it without delay!) Angrod replied and hastily ran to make the elixir.

   A concoction of Angrods' own making, to swiftly counteract extreme intoxication from the potency of elvish wine. They came but afew steps from Finrods spacious tent before Andreth could walk no more and had to be carried by Aegnor inside. Finally alone, Aegnor placed her gently upon a chair and worked at keeping her alert. But she was quickly slipping into unconsciousness. Angrod reappeared, holding out a chalice of the elixir to Aegnor. He swiftly seized it from his hand and held it her mouth.

    He placed the rim between her soft, plump lips and encouraged her repeatedly to drink. Utterly confused, she began to drink the bittersweet liquid. It revitalised her, like fresh rainwater in her dry mouth. He tipped the cup higher and higher as it vanished down her throat, encouraging her to finish every sip, a gentle melancholy washed over her. She slumped and surrendered to a light slumber, falling against Aegnor. Her face buried into his neck as he cradled her. His hands slowly slipped around her head, his fingers entangled in her hair while his mellifluous words served as a soothing balm of sweet serenity. Angrod watch on,

   "I will summon Bregor!" He interjected abruptly. Turning to leave.

   "Nay!" Aegnor protested strongly. "You will only cause distress. It was an honest mistake,"

Angrod stood his ground. ("Brother, consuming copious amounts of our wine could have brought her close to the realm of death!") Angrod countered, switching to the elvish tongue, his voice laden with concern. ("Bregor must be made aware! Would you not wish it so if it were Artanis?")

   ("Recall Angrod, my firm disapproval of bringing such wine in the first place! Now look at what you have done!") A tempest of thunder shrouded Angrod's face, his teeth clenched in a vile contortion of fury.

   ("How dare you!") Angrod growled, his lip curling with tightly restrained rage. ("Do you, in your feeble mind dare to insinuate that I bear responsibility for this?")

   ("I imply to say, that Andreth may not have needed to be victimised by your affection for liquor and your incessant need to indulge in it!") Aegnor snarled.

  ("Such words from you!") He retorted. As the brothers engaged in their heated bickering, their hot voices drew the attention of Finrod, who swiftly intervened, barging through the hanging curtains of cloth.

   ("Enough of this! Do you wish for the entire assembly to hear your petty squabble!?") Finrod spoke, their was a sudden stillness that followed has he put an end to his younger brothers argument with his presence alone.  Angrod glared at Aegnor, his neck hammering with tension. He was not done with him yet.

   ("You, Aegnor, are the sole among us whose only solace is drowned in a goblet of wine!"). The sting of Angrod's cruel words lingered in the air. Aegnor, his eyes wounded, stared up at him in silence. His face still tense with anger, Angrod turned on his heels to take his leave.

    "Angrod!" Finrod called to his passing figure. Protesting on Aegnor's behalf.

   ("Do not give me that pitiful look, Finrod!") Angrod growled. ("You know of its truth!") He stormed off, the curtains of the tent billowing as he stepped out.

   Finrod looked back to Aegnor, his eyes consumed with sadness. Aegnor slowly shifted his deeply wounded gaze back to Andreth, still cradling her head gently against his neck. As Aegnor's fingertips entwined in her tresses tenderly stroking the curve of her head, lines wrinkled Finrod's worried brow. A question of deep significance weighed heavily on his mind. However, fear held him back from uttering it, dreading the answer he did not wish to know. His voice caught in his throat as he built the courage to ask.

  Just as Finrod drew breath to ask what he dreaded to know, Andreth suddenly stirred from her drowsy slumber. She recaptured Aegnor's attention immediately, and he gently pulled her off of his shoulder, seeking her gaze.

  "Andreth?" Her eyes met his, drowsy and heavy.

  "Aegnor? Where is Aegnor?" She slurred.

  "I am Aegnor, it is I..." He whispered, cupping her face. "You were given a drought of elvish wine, and you collapsed, but you are no longer under its influence," he smiled tenderly.

   "Thank you," she whispered. Their gazes lingered in a tender silence, filled with sincere affection. Rubbing her eyes, she slowly rose to her feet, helped by her loyal, endearing elf. She noticed Finrod towering frame as she stood up, his gaze solemnly fixed upon them.

   "Lord Finrod!" she gasped, a smile tinged with a light-headed embarrassment adorning her face. "Forgive me, Your brothers concern for my welfare is greater than I deserve, I am sincerely grateful for it." she smiled, rather flushed.

   Finrod, sorrowful, managed to muster a faint smile. With measured composure, he spoke slowly, "I am glad to see you are well, lady. Please, return to the festivities; I hardly think anyone has noticed your small misfortune," he reassured her.

   Slightly unsteady on her feet, she swayed past him, with Aegnor attentively following close behind. They left Finrod alone. His demeanour far more sobered than before and with only his whispers in his own head to console him.

   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, with Aegnor never leaving her side, happily tucked into her share. Sitting crossed legged upon the grass, close to the large centre fire. Her crimson dress spread around her slender waist. She savoured the delectable morsels of venison from her portion The meat was so tender. It melted upon her tongue like warm honey. Aegnor sat close beside her, both protectively and possessively.

   He watched her eat silently as she devoured the meat like a ravenous wolf, disregarding all notions of decorum befitting a lady. Soft moans of a hunger satisfied with each bite escaped her. He watched her with an intensity that bridged upon amusement and marvel as she loudly sucked the residue from her fingers. Unaware of his eyes upon her. She grasped her chalice of a fruity beverage and slurped it greedily. As their eyes met, and she lowered her cup from her red lips, her eyes holding his.

   "What?" She asked. Her eyes and tone lacking any apology or even awareness.

   Aegnor's composer shattered at her manner. Releasing a supressed laugh. With a playful glint in his eyes, he reached for her plate, deftly securing a morsel of venison and flicked it into his mouth, his gaze intense and unbreaking. He licked his thumb and yanked it from his mouth with a loud smack. Mimicking her with a playful tease. Andreth laughed. "All too oft I would be chastised on for my lack of decorum at the evening meal," she quipped, blushing.

  He raised his cup to his mouth and muttered into its contents before drinking. "So was I!"

She looked at him, her face contorting with pleasant surprise. "You are not like other elves. Are you, Aegnor?" She smiled.

  "You are mistaken, sweet lady, it is they who are unlike I!" He grinned, his eyes welded to the fire. 

  She chuckled, biting on her lip. A pour of overwhelming confidence seeped from him. Bold and unapologetic. She blushed again, for she had found a kindred spirit who loved all of her flaws.

  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 glow of starlight, shimmered just beyond the trees. Andreth and Aegnor found themselves reminiscing in a tender memory, their concerns melting away like mist before dawn.

    Their palms hovered above one another in front of the roaring fire, mirroring a beloved memory they once shared. Andreth playfully teased Aegnor, her cascading dark locks revealing a rich red sheen aflame in the mesmerizing light of the crackling flames. Having enjoyed the rekindling of a close friendship with a few rounds, their hands dropped, taking a rest.

   "I must admit, Aegnor, your desire to play this game surprised me. Such simplicity does not befit you," she jested, a glint in her eyes drew him deeper into her captivating presence. 

  "My fair lady!" Aegnor interjected playfully, "It demands sublime cunning and a deft wit!" He mirrored the words she once spoke to him. Andreth's gaze lingered upon him, her lips folding into an ironic grin as the memory of their first game together came rushing back to her, all those years ago.

   "I have replayed this moment in my mind so many times since that fateful night," she confessed. "I almost fear I shall wake up soon to discover this moment is all but a dream,"

   In unison, they sipped their cups. Her serene gaze remained upon the fire, its light dancing in her eyes.

  "Much has changed since that moment, Andreth, but my care for you has never wavered,"

  "Oh, Aegnor, you have already proven your devotion to me on a multitude of times." She whispered. "Yet, I feel as though I am still to prove mine,"

   His eyes lingered in hers, their intensity amplifying. Holding his cup in both hands, he captured another swift drink and placed it down beside him. He held his palms out to her once more, inviting another game.

   "Shall we play again? Only this time, I propose a wager," He proclaimed, a mischievous glint sparkled in his eye. Pausing, her playful gaze squinted with suspicion, she passed him a curious smile.  "And...what will the stakes be?"

   "The winner..." he paused for thought. "Will be rewarded an answer. A single answer to a single question. And they must receive a truthful answer,"

  "Oh, Aegnor..." she grinned excitedly. "I possess a multitude of questions for you!"

   Seeing her rising to the challenged, Aegnor released a soft laugh, "Then, expend your efforts to win against me, and I will seek to satisfy your curiosity!"

   Andreth steadied her palms above his, signalling the commencement of their game. Time seemed to hold its breath as they engaged in their pursuit. A fleeting moment of hesitation seized her, and her nerves momentarily faltered. In that instant, Aegnor's adept fingers deftly captured hers. Andreth swiftly withdrew her hands from his grasp, holding her one hand nervously over her mouth. She cast a wide eyes glance at Aegnor, nervous with anticipation. She grabbed her fruity drink and quickly swigged it. Slowly, she relented, her voice dripping with palpable tension.

   "What is it that you wish to know?" She asked, dreading the question that would follow.

He started slow, his voice low and soft, he began. "Your people celebrate new life from the day of birth while neglecting the act of the begetting itself, unlike the Eldar. You choose to commemorate the toils of exertion over the shared throws of ecstasy that bring forth its very creation. Why does such a disparity exist?"

Shock gripped her. His solid gaze sent shivers down her spine. His beauty enchanted her, and his boldness trampled her.

  "I...I do not know," she stuttered quietly. "I suppose the begetting of our children is a draw of mere chance. It is impossible to know when the moment of life is created. For us, we have only the knowledge of the numerous times of where the act itself has taken place..." she stopped her trail of thought, looking at him. His unwavering gaze, brimming with intensity, stole her breath. Immediately, she simmered into a blush. 

  "Let's continue, this time, the victory will be mine!" She added quickly, holding her hands out, her palms now facing up. His fingers suspended above hers, and the second round continued. Her breath trembled loudly. Her heart drummed inside her chest. Their fingertips barely grazing. Her palms grew sweaty, and her fingers trembled terribly, but Aegnor's was as still as the night air. His gaze intensified as it fixed upon her, as she tried to maintain her focus, the sheer vulnerability that seeped from her in that moment capturing him completely. 

    Suddenly, Aegnor felt her firm touch entwining with his fingers, ripping him from his wonder. His eyes darted downwards, drawn to the sight of their fingers, now intertwined more tightly than before. He found himself faced with a wide, flushed, victorious grin, a smile that cast a shadow over him. In one graceful swoop, he raised his chalice of wine, hovering it over his mouth, awaiting her question.

    Aegnor's senses heightened as he observed her subtle lip nibbling, the charged atmosphere between them crackling with undeniable tension. His curiosity grew, entangled with a nervous anticipation, awaiting the question that hung on the precipice between them.

   "Had you ever..." she stopped, panic and passion warring within her. The question sat at the tip of her tongue, eager to break free. "Surrendered your body to the delights of sensual hands?" She witnessed his chalice slide from his mouth, his eyes narrowed. Her glistening eyes, like two pools of the blackest water, fixed upon him, a boldness taking over. "The soft kiss of a maiden's lips, entangled in yours," she murmured. "The soft touch of sensual hands...stripping you of all your senses, leaving you breathless beyond all measure." she whispered.

    His chalice lowered from his parted lips. His head leaned slightly to one side. He blinked. A sudden realization of herself took hold, and she withdrew once more, shyness reclaiming once again. Her cheeks turned crimson red. After a moment of silence, she could scarce stand,  Aegnor leaned into her. 

  "That was two different questions you asked me," he whispered, his voice ghosting between them. Her large, nervous eyes met his. The smirk on his face faded, replaced by an intense smoulder. His eyes fell upon his cup of elvish wine as he slowly moved it around inside. Her heart fluttered as she patiently waited. 

  "Yes," the soft word, barely a mutter, flowed from his lips, his voice hushed like the whispers of a dreaming ghost. Finally, his eyes lifted to meet hers, and a spark erupted between them. He leaned in closer, his eyes burning with hot flame and whispered. "And yes." 

  Her senses electrified, and her breath trembled. She blushed heavily, the red in her cheeks palpable. She swiftly extended her hands once again for another round, her eyes glittering wonder and excitement. A sheepish chuckle ghosted from his nostrils. He smoothed his lips with his finger, his mischievous grin widening. He lifted his cup and indulged in a long, deliberate sip. His smooth hand, adorned with an exquisite silver band around his thumb, lifted as the cup gradually ascended higher.

  Each gulp of the intoxicating elvish wine dulled his senses. As his head tilted all the way back, he greedily claimed the remainder of its contents. The display of his full unguardedness dazzled her as she drank in the mesmerizing sight. The taut, delicate skin beneath his jaw and throat glittered in the soft embers of firelight. Stealing her breath away as Aegnor surrendered shamelessly to the numbing, sensuous effects of intoxication.

  After finishing the last velvety drop, gracefully, he set the now empty chalice down beside him. Extending his palms, he made his move with an irresistible blend of elegance and desire. The lingering residue of wine delicately clung to his moist lips, tempting him with its flavour, and he licked it away.

  "You challenged me with two questions, and so I shall respond in kind," he declared confidently, his words infused with a playful sensuality.

   "Only if you claim the victory over me, silly elf," she taunted.

    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. Spellbound by his extraordinary beauty, she felt a surge of anticipation, knowing that there were untold secrets concealed within the recesses of his being.

  Lost in the depths of their silent exchange, Andreth's attention was drawn to the sensation of warmth enveloping her hand. Aegnor's fingers delicately intertwined with hers, sending a shiver through her entire being. His fingertips danced along the folds of her fingers, a tender caress, and she witnessed the slow intertwining of their fingers, and his hand clasped hers in a gentle squeeze, melding their palms together. 

   All the sences of the environment around them came to a deafening silence. Their silent gaze speaking volumes that their lips dared not utter. Their breaths slowed, synchronizing in a rhythm of shared desire, their hearts pounding within them. Yet, a sudden self-awareness broke through their enchantment, and Andreth, overwhelmed with emotion, withdrew from him once more, jerking her hand away, hiding her face from him, the connection severed Her sudden withdrawal confused him. He stared silently as he witnessed a tear fall from her cheek.

  "Andreth," he whispered tenderly. Slowly, she met his eyes.

  "You have won, Aegnor," she smiled sadly, tears staining her face. "What are your final two questions?"

  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 you wish me to ask?" he asked, his voice a soft murmur. With a quivering gasp, she nodded slowly, her eyes filled with nervous anticipation. Giving her a moment to collect herself, Aegnor finally whispered, "My first question, Andreth, is akin to yours,"

    "My lips have not been touched by a man." She answered quietly. "Say for the one whose beautiful mouth beckons me, whose lips I desire to kiss more than anything." She paused, her heart racing. "Unto him alone I surrender myself, his willing possession," her breath caught in her throat as her trembling lips muttered. "And he sits before me now,"

    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. Understanding his request, 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 murmured, "have I not proven to you by now that I am more than capable of protecting you?" 

   She released a deep, trembling sigh. "I place my complete trust in you, Aegnor," she trembled with anticipation, and she succumbed to their shared desire. "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 second 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.

   A sudden boldness captured her steps as Andreth closed the intimate space between them. Her body melded with his. His fingers, tender and possessive, found the slender column of her neck, eliciting a sharp gasp from her, setting his intoxicated sences ablaze as their noses nuzzled. Swallowing hard, his reserve wavering, he whispered his final question 

  "For my heart alone, do thou yield to me thine life and thine love, for all and eternal?"

   Andreth gasped, a burning whisper that hung between their mouths, ready for the consumption of their passion.

  "Yes," she breathed. 

   Aegnor inclined his head forward, and his lips enveloped hers. She gasped at their velvety touch. Intoxicated in an overwhelming tide of sensations, they lost themselves in the labyrinth of a breathless kiss. Andreth was transported. From his soft kiss, the taste of succulent, sweet wine lingered, intoxicating her senses.

    His feä rising to heights pulled Andreth's with it. She felt his fingers tighten ever so slightly around her slender neck. They broke for only a moment, each overcame by their emotions as they danced on the edge of restraint. Their ragged breathing mingled in the scant space between hovering, parted mouths. Driven on by his feä, from deep within him, a building wave intensified, giving rise to a tension that overwhelmed him completely, suddenly released.

   With a deep, hungry sigh, he recaptured her willing mouth. Cresting waves of intense pleasure, sensations never known to him before, crash through him, taking with them in their currents, his every sense and thought. His bold, velvety tongue delved deep within her like warm honey, tasting her fully. He surrendered to her the very depths of his heart. Andreth could scarcely stifle a moan of intense pleasure as he tasted her fully. The passion with which he kissed her, unmatched. She released to him her love that she had withheld for so long.

    Finally, the throws of breathless passion simmered to a calm flow. Aegnor slowly regained himself. He broke from her, savouring the taste. Breathless from the ethereal experience. Placing his forehead against hers, Aegnor slipped into a waking dream. A broad, flushed smile stretched across Andreth's lips as her dreamy eyes fluttered open. With slow, soft breaths, Aegnor caressed her face with gentle tenderness, speaking words that were not his own. His feä pledge of true love in his native tongue. 

   ("Beloved! I have called thee, and thou hast answered. I was nothing before, and I shall be nothing without! To thee and thine only, I surrender") He whispered. 

    Moved to tears by the power of his feä, she uttered her vow of recognition. "My lord!" she uttered, "My love, I willingly accept," 

    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 had I been so foolish!?  How had I not foreseen this!?" His mind tormented 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 her transcends beyond the boundaries of Arda," Aegnor admitted softly, his words laced with tenderness. A gracious smile graced Bregor's countenance.

    "I have long perceived its depth," Bregor murmured, 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 line and in spite of you, and in my impassioned anger, I hurt you dearly. I know of the wounds you nurse within, and never again shall I uproot the pain you bury deep with such cruel words,"

    Angrod's plea for forgiveness 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.