One Flesh, One Soul. Part I by FellFireFan

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Chapter 4

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

   Angrod had noticed Aegnor's uncharacteristic silence for a long stretch of the way. ("It came as a surprise to me that you would choose to attend this event, Aegnor, and your undaunted persistence in persuading me to accompany you,") Angrod commented, 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.