3. INTO THE KINGDOM OF THE ROHIRRIM

The great hall of the keep was packed with the Rider of Edoras and while they settled in, tending to their horses and their wounded, (in that order) the companions gathered round their own private table on a raised dais on the far side of the hall. The same very table that the King of Edoras, himself chose to seat himself at.


"Gather round!" Called the Dwarf as he climbed the few stairs with two large kegs resting on his broad shoulders.

Behind him, Sighere Sabertson followed carrying a sack of tankards and the four Rohirrim survivors of Ceolwulf's clan brought a share of the food from the keep's supplies. They placed everything on the table and the Dwarf demonstrated his great strength as he gently placed the heavy kegs down with only one arm for each.

The yellow haired warriors bowed humbly when they saw that King Theoden had chose to join them and proudly sat near him.


"Let us celebrate while the undead vermin are wiped from land!" Shouted Sighere as he filled up a tankard with mead and presented it to his King, who gladly accepted it.

Theoden raised the tankard high and took the first drink. All then shouted the Rohirrim word for 'Victory!' and the celebration began.

All seemed as it should be. The companions were reunited and the Gorrinvul were being wiped from the land. There was much to celebrate and fallen comrades to mourn. The hall roared with the cheers of the Riders with every blazing burst of the Dragon's breath that beamed through the narrow windows, and there was much merriment as the warriors tapped into at least a score of other kegs of mead and beer. All the food in the stores of the keep had been gathered and feasting had begun.

The King had offered a brief but inspirational speech and personally thanked the efforts of Lord Lac'Nal, the Ranger, the Seeker of Oron_D_Narr for his bravery. He made mention of his companions, honoring their quest with a great cheer that rumbled the pillars of the hall and in the end requested a moment of silence for the fallen lord, Ceolwulf who had been vanquished upon the wall by the golem's rage. Or had he? No body was found, but the rubble was substantial and there was no time to dig for his remains.

Across the moonlit plains a tall warrior strode away the burning ruins of the Rohirrim fortress. His bloodied and blackened armour glinted into the distant light and it's amber glow played on his fair locks. It would seem that Ceolwulf lived on, but he did not walk toward the keep but rather away. He paused upon the high hill across the bridge and stared out over the field of flames and the great Dragon that hovered over it. The warrior then turned away, and vanished, descending the other side. He looked up at the moon and as the wind cleared the hair from his face, his bright white eyes shone in the soft light. His skin was pale, his lips grey. The man that once, Cleowulf stopped and uttered a blood curdling howl at the stop of his lungs, an inhuman scream that in the end formed the name, "Breac!"


Breac lived on. Somehow he had rose again in the body of the great Rohirrim warrior. He did not know how nor did he care. All that mattered was that he lived on to make those that brought the Dragon and united the Riders suffer! The Companions! He would follow them to the ends of the Earth. He would plague their lives! First, however, he needed to feed. His body suffered a terrible emptiness, a hunger he had never known. He was no longer, Gorrinvul, but something else. Not undead. Not man. Something in between. He was the last of a kind and all their power flowed through his blackened veins. Power enough to carry him all the way to Oron_D_Narr and it would be on that road to the ranger's land that he would find them and he would make him remember; he would make them all remember the Gorrinvul!

Brianna walked into the great hall just in time to hear the toasts and cheers from the warriors on their victory. When the King of Edoras praised Lac and his companions, she was on her way to stand near Augustine. Stopping, she turned her dark green eyes to the king and as he looked at the woman once known as Brianna the Dark, he nodded his head to her. Brianna lowered her eyes in respect and nodded her head back, her dark hair falling about her face. Looking back up, she saw the king give her a small smile and wondered at it, but then dismissed it just as quickly.

Looking around, she saw all of the light colored heads and looked down at her own dark hair trailing over the front of her shoulder. She sighed as she spotted Orthargren and laid a hand on his shoulder as she passed him.

"I am glad to see you in one piece, Othargren. And you Sighere."

She spoke as she passed them, finding an empty chair and sat, taking the cup of mead someone handed her. Drinking deeply, she looked around the hall, glad that the battle was over but worried that the war with the undead beasts wasn't. It was just a feeling she had, but one that nagged at her. Still, she pushed it aside as well, knowing that their were more important things to deal with right at the moment. Looking over at Tiphereth, she subtly studied one of the important things to deal with. Again, she did so beneath half lowered lashes as she drank from her cup. She looked over at Jin who was standing next to Lac and again, studied. She was not a paitent person and it was difficult for her to stay her hand as well as her mouth and wait to see what the druid would be able to find out. Again, she sighed and drained her cup only to have it refilled as she sat quietly, listening to the warriors celebrate the victory.

A tankard of mead startlingly fell to the table next to Brianna.

"Still glad I'm in one piece?" Asked the cup bearer with a loud laugh.

Sighere sat down next to the half-blooded, Rohirrim woman and took another swallow of his drink as he leaned in close and deliberately stared in the same direction her eyes had been subtly looking.

"Now, just are we looking at, here?" He asked loud enough that nearly the entire table would hear.

Naturally most people were preoccupied with their own conversations, but the lieutenants purposeful blatant disregard for discretion would no doubt be detected by the ever vigilant, Phaerie.

"Him?" Scoffed Sighere as he pinpointed her target, "He's not even a Man?" He commented, more in jest than anything. The Rohirrim warrior, like most in the hall had a renewed respect for the Fair-one, but the fact remained that he was still a creature from the 'other-world'. A being that their kind was not meant to couple with, if that was in fact Brianna's intention.

Sighere stroked his beard in thought as he continued staring at Tiphereth, who by now had taken notice and offered a confused smile from where he sat on the far side of the table. The cheerful warrior raised his cup to the Deithir then turned his attention back to Brianna.

"I've decided to accompany your party." He told Brianna, "There's nothing left here for me now and I have longed desired to travel beyond the borders of Middle Earth. So, what say you to my decision?"

Jin was more than aware of where Tiphereth was at all times. And she was even more aware of when his eyes rested upon her. She tried to fathom what was happening between them. Never before had she felt such a…..magnetism….for the lack of a better word. She knew the had grown very close during their time in the deep recesses of the Earth and the grief she felt when she thought he died was so deep she felt her heart break at the loss but it was not the loss of someone she had been madly in love with. It was the same loss she felt as when she discovered her mother and sisters had been murdered. No. That wasn’t exactly right either. In fact, she was having trouble describing exactly what it was she felt.

There was no doubt she would gladly welcome the opportunity to see what sort of bed mate the Deithir would make. After all, it was her nature to be promiscuous and discover more f her own sexuality as well as delving into his. But she knew she could never return to the way she was now with Lac’Nala. If she crossed that line with Tiphereth there would be no turning back and no future with the Ranger. He would never be able to trust her again and if he couldn’t trust her like that, then their relationship was based on lies. And Jin was not happy to dwell on that.

Still, as she dared to steal a glance at the bard from time to time, she felt that unheard call she’d felt from him earlier. And why did she get the distinct impression they had been physical? In some way? Other than the times they had to touch each other out of necessity to keep from falling victim to death? It confused her to no end and while she would have loved to discover what it was if she had been her old self, she couldn’t bring herself to do anything now for fear of what she may discover.

So as Loki cleansed the world of the last of the Gorrinvul, she stayed by Lac’s side. Both out of the need to be close to him after everything that had happened and for the fact she didn’t trust herself to be alone right now. So with her hand in his the whole time, she let the Rohirrim celebrate their hard fought victory but she didn’t celebrate with them. Instead of drinking tankards of ale, she simply sipped some tea. She smiled from time to time but in all honesty, all she wanted was a long, hot bath, some clean clothes and a soft bed to lay her exhausted body in and get some much needed rest.

Jalisa stayed close to Tiphereth. As much as she loathed the fact she blamed him for their current situation, she felt a kinship with him knowing they shared a common dislike for Verin. As she watched the Rohirrim celebrate their victory and mourn their dead, she was glad the Ranger had shown up with the much needed help from Edoras. She wasn’t looking forward to having her body abused any more than it already was. At least, not in this form anyway.

As she looked out the windows to see the glowing sky from Loki’s cleansing fire rid the land of the Gorrinvul and be the pyre for the fallen brave warriors of Rohan, she felt a heaviness settle over her. She knew she would begin her descent into the darkness. After all, it was her nature. She should have known better than to try and be something she couldn’t be. She was a Black Dragon. She was a creature who could be as uncaring and devious as anything. Yet she tried to do right by Loki as a way to thank him for what he’d done for her. And now, she had created more of a mess than ever.

As her eyes slid around the Keep as the Rohirrim began to celebrate their victory and the lives of their fallen she noticed the eyes of the dark haired Rohirrim woman studying the bard intently. Something seemed wrong with this picture and as she let her gaze linger on the woman she listened to the suspicions the woman had in her mind. Now this was a problem.

Without hesitation, she turned to face Tiphereth and let her eyes settle into his as she whispered softly for his ears alone.

”Play along, Fey. We are being watched.”

The next thing Tiphereth knew Jalisa reached up with her right hand and cupped the back of his neck as she gently drew his head down to her as she rose up on her toes. It looked as though they were kissing when in fact she was whispering to him again.

”It appears the dark haired Rohirrim woman has seen our actions and now has deep rooted suspicions about us. Until we can figure out a way to remedy that, we will have to be careful what we do and who we are seen with. Since we are in this situation together, you and I are now stuck together like glue.”

There was no malice in her words. No sarcasm in her tone. No sense of anything other than the truth. And as Tiphereth dared to glance in Brianna’s direction he would see what Jalisa was telling him about was true. Even as Sighere sat next to Brianna and had talked loud enough for Tiphereth to hear what he said.

The Dwarf was shoving another tankard of good mead in front of Augustine. The druid was nowhere near finished with his first but the Dwarf was not hearing any of it.

"Drink Lad, soon we will leave these fine folk and their fine brews, it is best to fill up now then to wonder about it's sweet taste later." The Dwarf winked at the druid and raised a hand and tipped Augustine's tankard higher and higher as the druid drank until it was empty.

"There you are Lad, time for another." The dwarf said with a smile as he yanked Augustine's empty mug from his hands and replaced it with the full one.

"Thank you Orthargren." Augustine said and sipped the fresh mug.

The druid was far from king Theoden but the druid studied the older warrior/king. He was no figurehead king, he had rode out in front of the first line of his brave horesmasters as they came to Ceowulf's aid. Theoden had fought the Gorrinvul along side his own men, his very own sword claimed many Gorrinvul heads on the battlefield outside.

The druid was curious to see the king take notice of Brianna he nodded in respect to her. The druid was curious if Brianna knew the king and what their connection was. It seemed to him that the Rohirrim were spread thin over their lands and with enemies seemingly on all sides he wondered how much the king saw of all his warriors.

The druid took another long sip from his heavy mug and his eyes settled on Tiphereth and Jalisa, the two were friendly, they seemed to be enjoying the festivities in the hall. The druid was convinced more than ever that the blue eyed woman was a talented user of magic but he was not so convinced that she was an enemy to the lot of them. Why was the woman concealing her abilities? There seemed to be a great deal of hormones in the air among his companions, perhaps all these strange magics and unpredictable moods were a product of mixed desires and frustrations of the flesh. The group was a strange mix of varied peoples of middle earth and beyond, drow, fey, half elves, dwarves and humans- it was quite possible that this melting pot and it's cultural differences was intensifying any romantic faux pas.

The druid gave this some serious thought as he drank his mead. The group had been through a lot in a short time and friendships and romance were natural, if you add in a sprinkle of war and other dangers then a romance could be forced to mature much faster. The druid was no expert on these things but they made sense to him.

Augustine turned to study Brianna, she was a unique and complicated woman. She had a heart of a warrior but a head like a bull. She was fierce and brave and wounded and delicate all at the same time. The druid liked looking at her, her green eyes and long dark hair appealed to him. The druid drove these thoughts from his mind, was he falling for the same complications he had thought about only moments ago? Was he drawn to the woman because she was a fine looking specimen of middle earth? Or that she had a big heart and a fine mind? Or was the druid fantasizing about the dark haired woman because they had fought together and he had saved her life, and she his more than once or twice, binding them together in a deep and strange way?

Augustine sipped the brew and wondered if there was any difference, and more importantly if he would know if there was.

"I wonder Master Dwarf if it is possible to truly understand a woman...if you could ever truly know what is in her heart and mind." The druid said out of nowhere.

"Huh?" Grunted the Dwarf in answer to the druid, but he had heard him well enough.

Othargren's eyes darted to his right, following Augustine's fading stare. He smiled then and gulped back the rest of his brew.

"Ah, lad." The Dwarf rumbled, "When ye long for them ye try and understand 'em and the rest of the time ye best avoid them."

Othargren rose from the bench and slapped the druid on the back with his heavy hand.

"Trust me lad. A warrior-woman is as free as the wind. Ye best find yer self I fine farmer's daughter."

With that being said the Dwarf wandered back over to the kegs and helped himself to yet another tankard of beer.


Tiphereth was well aware of what the Drowess was experiencing. It was not the first time he had such an effect on a woman and it would not be the last. A bold statement for any male to make, but the Deithir thought it with no ego, it was simply his nature. All Fey possessed their charms but the attraction ran deeper than the swaying of magic. The Phaerie's immortality, his very essence was intoxicating to those who developed a longing for them, it was why Dryad's and Nymphs were so beautiful, like nectar to a bee. Tiphereth too was a comely being, his traits carved from the same mold as all of his kind but fascination itself was... fascinating. He did not know how, when or why the Drowess had developed these 'feelings' but they had become strong enough to tug upon his essence like puppet strings. Thus was the danger of drawing near to those that existed outside of the Faerie realm, but Verin's control offered one benefit. His bondage prevented any other from holding sway over him and so he had no fear of being dominated by a physical being such as Jin.

For a brief moment their eyes had met but they did not linger. The Drowess held tight the ranger's hand and drew upon his strength. This was good. Tiphereth was pleased she held onto Lac'Nal. He was real. His heart was warm and passion flowed through his veins, although not so fiery and fierce as a Phaerie's. All that Tiphereth could ever offer was a moment of ecstasy, a diversion that would alter one's own grasp on reality. He did, however, offer a mortal extended life and beauty, a drug that many found difficult to relinquish, but the Drowess needed neither.

So long as she and the ranger remained true to one another all would be right. This much, the Deither knew. There was no need that Lac'Nala ever need learn of what had transpired between he and the Drowess. It was innocent enough, but the Deithir still had no desire to explain his actions to the ranger nor risk a confrontation that may develop. Turning away, the bard took a bite of cheese and washed it down with a drink of mead.

Tiphereth was aware of Brianna's lingering eyes but nonetheless was appreciative of Jalisa's warning. The little, Elfin woman would be, until the end of their charade, his only confidant and when it came time to once and for all deal with Verin, he would need her strength.

"Yes." The Deithir agreed, whispering lightly in her ear as she drew him down toward her, "Brianna seems to suspect something. I pray she keeps her suspicions to herself."

Tiphereth then caught sight of a few, Rohirrim warriors who had in fact believed he and Jalisa were doing more than merely speaking in close quarters. A smile tugged at the corner of his mouth and his lavender eyes glinted playfully as he slightly parted from the small woman.

"Men." Stated the Deithir. A curious statement, but the fact remained that he was not a Man, at least not in the true sense of the word. He then slightly shook his head.

"Walk with me." The bard requested and politely offered his arm to the Dragoness. A gesture he was well aware she would not to be accustomed to, nor would she appreciate the ideology behind it. His exaggerated presentation was actually in mockery of the act which he performed in jest if only for Jalisa's and his own entertainment.

He lead her up to the walk way by the narrow windows that looked over Loki's firestorm. A few other warriors stood on the raised platform than ran the length of the hall admiring the Dragon and Tiphereth nodded to them in greeting as they passed by.

"He is a magnificent being." Complimented Tiphereth of the green Dragon, a comment that he knew would remind Jalisa of the form she was trapped within. "As are you, I imagine. How you must long to shed your skin, eh?"

There was no response but by the way the woman stared longingly out a window upon Loki's powerful form the answer was obvious.

"I have a tale for you." The bard told her and as they strolled arm in arm along the gangway he began to tell his story.

"Once there was a boy who lived in a far off land where magic was frowned upon. This boy, like so many others, longed to experience what was forbade them and so he journeyed into to a forbidden wood in search of something, of anything magical and he found it. There in a picturesque grove he came upon a flying steed, a magnificent creature with eyes like jewels and wings of gold and silver able to carry her to the stars."

The bard paused when he came to a few steps and surprised, Jalisa as he took her round the waist and lightly carried her to the top as if she were flying. He gracefully let her down and continued on with his story while bathed in the fiery light.

"The boy had to have her but how? He could not return to his village upon a magical creature, but then the beast told him that she could disguise herself, so that none would every know she was nothing more than a normal mare. The boy was most pleased at this and commanded that she transform herself that he might bring her home."

Tiphereth smiled and looked over at Jalisa after that part of the story before continuing on.

"The boy took her home and placed her within a stall of her father's barn and when everyone was asleep he crept in and beckoned she reveal herself. He then mounted her and together they flew off to the stars where she showed him many wondrous things, but soon the boy tired and reluctantly the winged mare took him home and once more hid who she was. The next day, the father who needed to plough the fields thought nothing of yoking the disguised magical horse and so he put her to work. She toiled all day, performing tasks she had never known and come evening she was so tired that all she wanted to do was go to sleep. Again the boy came, and once more they flew off to the stars and the next day she was put to work again.

"In time the boy's visits became more infrequent and the winged horse toiled hard in the fields until she had not seen the boy for many months. He had gone to the city and when he returned crept into the barn at night and commanded his magic horse to reveal herself but she could not. For too long she had lived as a regular horse, working the fields. Her magic was gone and now she was only a mare and lived out the rest of her days under the yoke of the farmer never to fly to the stars again."

They were sitting together on a stone bench at the far end of the hall, away from the crowds when the bard ended his story. When he was finished, Tiphereth looked at Jalisa with concern in his eyes and revealed to her a harsh fact of being bound to Verin in her transformed state.

"Verin's binding is like the yoke around the flying mare's neck. In time his power which prevents your change will destroy your true form. If you are bound for too long in your transformed state you shall forever be the woman who looks at me now." Tiphereth explained and seeing the disbelief in her eyes hung his head low and assured her that he spoke the truth, "I am sorry to bear such bad news."

Lac, sitting next to Ssinjin and King Theoden, stood and banged his tankartd upon the table. A silence fell upon the great hall as he raised his tankard and said .."I thank you all, but it is not I that deserves your praise there are others that deserve it more." Looking around the hall he continued "First to Priestess Ssinin, Tiphereth Sorrelwind, Othargen Ironfist, Augustine, Jalisa, Brianna of Rohan,Sighere and those of you that faced the brunt of the storm I salute you. Then King Theoden of Rohan, Gamling, Hamma, Skajrnir, Jornef and the warriors of Rohan, without whose help all would have been lost. The mighty Dragon Loki and last but not least to Ceolwulf and the glorius dead, who gave of themselves so that Rohan could be once more free. I say HAIL!" Lac then gazed at his tankard contemplating, what was before them. For he new that a battle had been won but one battle does not a war win.

Tiphereth had no idea just how much she yearned to take her true form and spread her wings to feel the rush of air hit her face as she glided on the air currents. And to see Loki as he passed by overhead only made her yearn all the more for that sensation.

As Tiphereth offered his arm to her, Jalisa quirked a brow then grinned. She knew there was always more to the Fey’s actions than what one could see on the surface. It was the one thing she was beginning to understand about him now. She walked along with him putting some distance between himself and the others within the keep listening to his story.

When he easily slipped his arm around her waist and carried her to the top, she felt a light rush of air flow over her and she made a mental note to thank him for it later. Right now, he was engrossed in his story and the more she listened to it, the more she began to see a correlation between the winged mare and herself. But when he revealed to her the same fate awaited her if she didn’t discover a way to take her true form before it was too late, she looked at him as though he’d grown a second head.

She didn’t want to believe him but something deep inside of her knew he spoke the truth. And besides, he’d never lied to her so why start now? Still, to hear this awful truth put to words caused her to realize the sad state she was in. And to make matters worse, she felt truly helpless right now. And very vulnerable.

Tearing her eyes away from him, she let her eyes gaze out a nearby window as she spoke softly to the Fey. He would hear, for the first time, her words were soft and gentle and not laced with bitterness or scorn and he would realize she was more frightened than she had ever revealed.

”I knew I would be taking a chance like that when I chose this form. But it was far easier to join in with the group looking like this than my true self. And for the first time, I am not living a solitary life, as I would be if I were in that same true form. It actually feels good to be a part of something bigger than what my next meal will be and where I will get it. Unfortunately, I have become a prisoner of my own desire. And in doing so, I have caused you to become strapped to a being who will use you as a puppet. In a deadly game of cat and mouse. And to make matters worse, if they can be, Verin’s reasons for keeping me in this form has more to it than with just making sure I remain with the group. I wouldn’t be a willing bed partner, but he wouldn’t care either. It would just be one more way for him to hold control over me….and enjoy doing so.”

She turned to look at Tiphereth then.

”I’m so sorry I’ve caused this to happen to you. If I’d have told you from the beginning what you possessed, we may not be in this predicament. I would be, but not you. And what frightens me more than anything is the fact I am beginning to feel the sway of Verin’s nature. You see, Black Dragons are beings of chaos and it’s our nature to do what suits us best and to hell with everyone else. I should have known better than to try and fight something that went against my nature. But I wanted to repay Loki for the kindness he showed me and in payment for the fact he didn’t kill me when he had the prime opportunity to do so.”

She was coming clean to the Fey. She HAD to if they were going to survive this ordeal. In the end, when it came down to it, they would need each other to overcome the one who held them by the puppet strings that made them dance.

”I thank you for your frankness, Tiphereth. I didn’t want to hear it, but I needed to. And if this is the form that I should be trapped in for the rest of my life, then I thank the Gods I didn’t choose that of an Ogre. Even though that’s precisely what I would love to be when HE comes calling.”

She heard Lac’Nala raise his voice as the Keep grew quiet sending praises to those who helped bring the Gorrinvul down. She looked over the crowded hall then looked to Tiphereth again and tilted her head.

”One day, Fey, I wish to hear what happened between you and the Drowess while you were alone, in the bowels of the earth. Not now though for now we need to concentrate on making sure we turn the suspicions others have of us into something else. And the only way I think we can do that is to spend more time with each other than with the others and make them think we are more than just…..friends. Don’t worry, I promise I won’t devour you as the Drowess would if she ever got her hands upon you the way she would like to.”

She winked and grinned then leaned in closer, laying her head on his strong upper arm as she looked out over the crowd once more.

”Don’t fret, Tiphereth. I will be in jest and for appearance purposes only.”

Jin didn’t feel much like celebrating or anything else as the night drew on. She was exhausted, to say the least. But she remained with Lac’Nala for as long as he remained awake and in the hall. She needed to stay with him. She feared what would happen if she went anywhere alone right now.

But as she watched Tiphereth and Jalisa from across the room, she saw them getting quite…..cozy….with each other. She felt a pang of jealousy shoot through her but she soon berated herself silently for such a feeling. Knowing it was years and years of ingrained training that made her feel this way and want what someone else had, particularly such a fine male specimen as the bard, she merely felt a relief he was finding someone who he might be able to connect with on a different level.

As she watched the two from across the hall, she sighed softly then laced her fingers with Lac’Nala’s. Soon enough they would seek the hot bath she desperately wanted and the soft bed she hoped to maybe share with Lac tonight. Even if they did nothing more than hold each other as they slept. For right now, she wasn’t sure she had the energy to do much else.

Although, if he wanted more she was certain she would find some hidden energy somewhere.

Brianna jumped when the tankard of ale was dropped down in front of her at the table. Looking up, she smiled as Sighere smiled at her then commented on her being glad that he was unharmed, but quickly frowned when he loudly commented on what or whom she was watching. Once he was done bellowing, she caught onto the hidden meaning behind his words and smiled at him.

"I am not interested in him in that way, Sighere, so wipe your mind clean. He is too different from the rest of us."

Leaning in closer to him she whispered in his ear, feeling that he was someone she could trust and as he was traveling with them another set of eyes and ears to watch Tiphereth, Jalisa and Jin would be helpful.

"Something is amiss and I don't know what it is. Shhhh....don't say anything just yet. Tis better to observe right now than act."

She quickly quieted him when he had begun to open his mouth. "Don't let on that I said anything to you about it."

She leaned back away from him, taking a drink of the ale he'd brought her. She raised her glass to Lac's toast then and again to Sighere.

"Thank you for the mead, my friend and I am glad that you will be joining us. Another sword will be welcome."

Looking around the hall, her eyes rested on Augustine and she saw him looking at her. Her smile was genuine now as she looked back at him, her dark green eyes softening ever so little. She felt connected to the druid now since he'd saved her life twice that day and had stayed by her side when she'd been wounded a second time, even at the risk of his own life. She still felt a twinge of guilt that he'd been injured, but knew him well enough by now to know that he would tell her not to feel that way.

"Where can a woman go to get a warm bath, Sighere? I have need to wash this foul smelling ooze from me and gather fresh clothing."

Sighere moved closer to Brianna with a wry smile on his face. He listened intently to her secrets like an eager child but hardly took a word the woman said with any seriousness. His over-exaggerated expressions were his way of playing around and so much as telling the woman that he had little time for gossip.

A the dark haired woman spoke of Tiphereth and Jalisa, the lieutenant blatantly stared in their direction, narrowing his eyes to make himself all the more conspicuous. When, Brianna then hushed him, the warrior near burst out laughing and after she made her toast he could no longer feign his interest.

"Brianna. These are our friend's you are speaking of. Why would they conspire against us after all they have done?" Said, Sighere shaking his head and taking another swig of his mead. "I believe the stress of the battle has gone to your head. Drink some more, it will help."

Sighere rose his cup to the woman.

The Rohirrim warrior cared not hear any other idle words spoken of people who were sworn to the quest. These were their noble companions and Sighere would not speak of them so behind their backs. It was the way of most of the Riders. Dagger and sword were meant for cutting not the edge of ill-tempered words. He thought then to speak to Brianna of her behavior and perhaps try and understand her ways but no sooner had his eyes left hers did they fall upon another man. Sighere saw the way she gazed upon the druid and knew then that it was time to move on and seek out merriment else where.

As he got up to leave, Brianna yet asked him of where she might acquire a warm bath to which Sighere simply responded, "I'm sure the water barrels upon the walls would be boiling by now.", then carried on his way.


Tiphereth furrowed his brow then raised one, a gesture which for him could be considered gregarious. He was both curious and surprised that the Dragoness would care so what transpired between he and the Drowess. Honestly, though he cared not to speak of it. Even if they had the time, he did not feel like reliving the past just yet and was content to simply share the stone bench with Jalisa. He truly understood her distress of being trapped in her present form, but it was one that he was growing quite fond of and would not be saddened if it remained so. Still, he would do everything in his power to restore her to rightful body, after all she was Dragon-kind.

As she casually leaned her head against him if only to comfortably rest while she surveyed the celebration, Tiphereth pondered all that, Jalisa had said. The conclusions she had drawn made him smile.

"Let us not speak of the past." He told her, "What has been done. Is done. Nothing will be afforded by imagining what may have been. For now, our master takes his rest and our words in this moment are ours alone."

Tiphereth looked down at Jalisa and smiled. "I will not let, Verin touch you." he told her with such conviction that it was difficult not to believe him, but how could he defy their master's control?

The bard was then up like a shot. He leapt upon the shoulder of one of two great statues of the kings of old at their end of the hall and made his way on the extended sword of one reaching out above the rejoicing Rohirrim.

"Here me!" The bard's voice resonated through the hall.

So crystal clear was his voice in all ears, that a silence immediately fell over the crowd. All turned and looked up to the Fey, perched upon the stone sword and waited. For time he was quiet and then he spoke. The bard first sang of how he and the companions of Lac'Nala came to meet him upon the plains of Rohan. His words were poetic and painted scenes of heroism before the all the eyes that watched him. His words were then accompanied by a magical music and he began to sing with notes so loud and crisp that even Loki could hear them beyond the heavy walls of the fortress hall.

The bard regaled all with the tale of their own story so that they would know that their heroism would long be remembered. He entertained all with word and song and when he was done once more made mention of the great Ceolwulf, the fallen lord. All bowed their heads and offered a silent prayer for the warrior and all their brothers that had followed him to the 'fields'.

Before all rose their heads, the Phaerie descended to the raised platform than ran the length of the windows and produced his silver flute. He placed his lips to it and began to play a Rohirrim song, which he surprisingly knew, and knew it well. Many of the warriors jumped up on the tables and began to sing the traditional tune and soon the hall roared with the melody. The bard continued to play but the lilting notes of his flute only seemed to become all the more audible as more voices joined the chorus.

The bard jumped and twirled about in animated unison with the music and those warriors not too injured from the battle began to stomp their feet and clap their hands. Some danced and others sought out a partner of the few females that were about.

Brianna shook her head at the warrior, knowing then that he would not hear her words nor believe them. So be it, but she would keep a watch on them regardless. Right now, though, she wanted to bathe and change her clothing. She hadn't noticed that Sighere had seen whom she'd been looking upon nor the softening of her gaze. She simply smiled at him as he walked away to pull one of the few women down upon his lap as he sat at another table.

When Tiphereth jumped up and began to sing about he and Lac then play a Rohirrim tune on his flute, she looked around her at the men thumping on the tables, tapping their feet and a few dancing. She was in no mood for the merriment and rose, leaving the hall to head out to the barrels that were being heated. She found one in a secluded section of the keep and having already grabbed her small pack from the corner of the hall where she'd left it when they'd first arrived she made sure that she was alone before pulling her clean clothing and cleaning rag from the bag. She also had a bar of her favored soap scented with lilac oil. She quickly washed, even able to wash her hair and dress before she heard footsteps. Feeling human once more, she ran her fingers through her long, wet hair, combing out the tangles. She threw her foul smelling clothing into a nearby fire and stood there as she watched them burn.

By now, Tiphereth had finished and she roamed the area outside the keep and yet within the walls. She had no wish to drink more mead until she was drunk as she had a few nights before. Instead, she headed for the stables and Raelayeg's stable, Ceowulf's horse. She smiled when she heard him whinny to her and opened the door to his stall, stepping inside. The great horse nuzzled her in her chest and she patted his massive neck.

"You miss your rider, don't you Great One? But, he is gone now and you will have a new rider."

Brianna didn't know why she spoke to the horse.....she couldn't communicate with them the way a true Rohirrim could, but she was drawn to this horse and when she was near him the birthmark on the inside of her thigh became warm. Not painfully warm, but a soothing warmth. Her mind thrust a memory just then and she all but fell to her knees.

She saw her parents, her true parents and they were running, fleeing. She was so small, only about 3 years old and yet she remembered this. Her father was talking about her birthmark and how it had cursed them her mother was crying, defending her as they fled their village. The next thing she saw were her parents lying dead and her bruised body being picked up by gentle hands.

What was it about her birthmark that had gotten her parents killed? The birthmark was that of a horse standing on it's hind legs, what looked like flames taking the place of it's mane and tail. It was only about an inch and a half long and about three quarters of an inch wide. She continued to stroke the muzzle of the black horse and pushed her thoughts back to the back of her mind. There would be time later to think about this.

She stayed for a few more minutes, then promising to come back, she left Raelayeg's stall and walked out of the stable, heading back to the hall.

If nothing else, Jalisa had to give the Fey a smile for his effort in making her feel safe with him. The conviction in his words that he wouldn’t allow Verin to touch her was very convincing, but she didn’t put any hope into them. She didn’t see how that was possible and therefore she refused to let herself fantasize about the fact it could be true.

Her shoulder still pained her but not as it once did. Her magic, while in this form, was not near as strong as it would be in her true form it was still working and healing her at a slower pace. Thankful for such a small thing, she couldn’t imagine what it would be like for her if she had to rely on more conventional healing methods. The thought made her shudder.

But she didn’t have much time to dwell on the matter. The bard was up and doing one of the things he did best. Revel history in song and music. She laughed softly as she watched him move about singing the song of the events as they unfolded and when the flute was added to the song and the Rohirrim began to dance and stomp and clap to the song, she laughed even more.

There was no doubt this strange being from another world had much to offer these people in a time of great need. Even if it was just to forget about the terrible battle had just happened and what lie ahead. She found herself tapping her toes along with the song and enjoying the merriment that was infecting the riders of Rohan. Even as her eyes watched Brianna from a distance. The woman would need to be dealt with soon, but not right now. There would be a time when she would catch the woman alone and use her influence to wipe the woman’s suspicions from her mind once and for all.

Why that made her feel guilty she didn’t know but in the interest of self preservation and to prevent the woman’s untimely demise from Verin’s heavy hand, she would do what she had to do to protect her. Or so she reasoned with herself that’s what she would do.

Erstwhile in another part of Middle Earth, the happenings that took place in Rohan were being watched very carefully. The watcher paid very close attention to the half Elven Ranger Lac’Nala. When the great green Wyrm awoke from his slumber and took to the skies, the watcher knew something was amiss. The great Dragon didn’t leave his lair for just anything. Or anyone.

There was only one reason he would dare leave Oran_D_Naar and that was if Lac’Nala were in trouble. Trouble the Ranger would not be able to get out of without the dragon’s assistance. As the watcher saw the picture within the Seeing Stone come into focus, the watcher gasped. The horrid creatures the Ranger was up against were creatures that knew no death. Not in the way others did anyway.

It was with bated breath the watcher observed the eventual outcome of the battle. With Loki’s appearance the tides were turned and the Ranger found himself on the winning side of a hard fought battle. But what was this? A woman? She was no ordinary woman. Even with all the dirt of the battle clinging to her, the watcher could see the dark skin and mysterious beauty the woman possessed. The fact she was a dark elf was even more mysterious. And Lac’Nala seemed to be quite taken with her.

It was settled. The watcher had to travel to meet up with the4 Ranger to make sure nothing foul was amiss. Even as the others came into view the watcher could practically feel something was not as it seemed. And it was time the Ranger had a face he was familiar with. One who could make him listen to reason even when he didn’t want to.

As the images faded away in the Seeing Stone and it took on it’s normal, dark, glassy allure, the watched turned on their heel and gathered up what was needed for travel. Without further word to anyone, the watcher left the protective borders of Oran_D_Naar making haste to join the Ranger as soon as their path’s crossed.

When ever that would be.

The revered steeds of the Rohirrim had been moved to the stables deep within the mountain. This was to protect them from the raging dragon-fire that reduced the Gorrinvul bodies to ash and also reduced much of the fortress' courtyard to cinders. Brianna still, however, managed find the great black stallion that once proudly carried, lord Ceolwulf. There she was able to think, among the soothing snorts and neighs of the noble horses each housed two to a stall to accommodate the sheer volume of Edoras' army. Only half of the horses could be setup, and the others were left to run free with a great cavern used as a corral. The soft earthen floor was flat and smooth, and the massive chamber was wide open, offering enough room for the horses to safely roam.

Brianna slowly made her way back to the great hall were the festivities continued. She wandered down a long corridor, lined with sculpted columns each bearing the semblance of heroic warriors and among them was one that bore a remarkable likeness to Ceolwulf. Drawn by curiosity she paused before the statue and learned it to be his forefather and cool chill ran up her spine. Not by looking once more in the face of the fallen warrior but because of the sensation that she was being watched.

Instinctively Brianna's hand fell to her hilt when a tall warrior emerged from the shadows. By the glow of his white skin and the way the torch light played upon his fiery locks, she immediately recognized it to be Tiphereth Sorrelwind.


"Good evening, m'lady." Saluted the bard, his empty, black eyes looking through her.

There was something sinister about the Deithir in the way he began to circle her, like a great cat stalking its prey. He offered her a disturbing smile, his fang-like incisor protruding over his bottom lip.

"Your eyes have hardly left me, Brianna." He stated, "What is it that you think you know?"

Tiphereth straightened his right arm and suddenly his long bladed spear appeared.

"You should have kept your thoughts to yourself." He warned as he pointed end of his spear toward her chest, "You now leave me no other choice!"

The bard attacked her, releasing a barrage of slashes and thrusts which she could hardly avoid. Even before she could draw her sword, blood poured from a gash in her arm and Tiphereth had caught her in stomach with a vicious kick. She gasped as the wind rushed out of her and she fell backward, but she was still able to counter with an attack of her own. Unfortunately he easily parried it and continued his assault.

Brianna had little choice but to retreat and the Deithir pursued, gracefully gliding behind her, hacking away at her heels like a cat playing with its prey. She was trying to get back to the stables, there perhaps were she mounted the warrior might stand a chance but the bard wasn't about to let her reach her destination. She screamed aloud as she felt the long shard blade of the spear penetrate one of her legs and trip her to the ground. There, prone and scrambling to use her sword, the bard ran her though once, twice, over and over again until she felt her life slipping away.

Brianna awoke with a start as the large black horse nuzzled her. Struggling to focus in the dim lantern light, the woman reached for her sword but then realized that it was only Raelayeg. She had fallen asleep and her encounter with the bard had only been a nightmare. She could still hear the soft cadence of the bard's flute echoing down the corridor that connected the stables to the great hall and knew that the only damage she had suffered was from an over-active imagination.

Loki made one last pass around the outside of the keep, dispatching the last of the Gorrinvul. The climbed straight as an arrow up in the sky, flapping his wings. When he reach a hieght where he was but a speck in the cloudless sky, he rolled upon his back and fell. Folding his wings to his side he tumbled towards the earth like a stone. eight hundred feet above the ground Loki extended his wings, rolled onto his belly, the barrel rolled across the sky giving a mighty ..."ROAR!" the settled lightly before the destroyed gates, resting his massive head upon his crossed arms.

Lac leaned over and whispered in Ssinjin's ear so no other could hear. "Celolmaeeth maeyid hamevarraytor, Isti wynithsayhir tynoth ithnartayrilossadelunecurayetha yilosuthu tayoth al forreneldaithnordae taehalartatar huransor borevaethanae minyin curuorminpernalnelistiolnae faeothrel arthsar linossanaegol hiemansat Isti curayarthanar reneldmayethamaybelestrun." (TRANSLATION:Come my heart, I wish to introduce you to a freind that has been my companion for as long has I can remember.) They rose together and walked out to the destroyed gates and the massive dragon resting there. With his arm linked in Ssinjin's arm Lac approached Loki, bowed in respect and said "Loki sia danthe, huena tenamalo wux tepoha confn ekess sia aso. shala ve ekess whais vi danthe vur yishnok wer Ingoeth Svatrin Ssinjin. Svaust tepohaic stood rionib ve vur lowan throdenilt loupon huena."

Loki eyed Ssinjin for a moment, studing her closely, she could feel him touch he mind and heart, as if he knew what was in both. He then raised his mighty head, stretching his neck and bowed his head close to her face in respect, then extended a talon and lightly touched her heart. For a moment Ssinjin felt as if all her worries, woes and cares were lifted from her and she felt a peace fall upon her very soul, the like of which she had never known. Loki then stood and moved to stand beside Lac and Ssinjin, looking out across the plains towards the north and Oron_D_Naar many leagues away.

As Lac led Jin outside and started towards the great Dragon, she felt her fear grip her and she hesitated, tugging on his arm. With his encouragement, she was able to make the final steps towards the giant creature. Her eyes were wide with the fear she felt and it was only natural. After all, Loki was a very large, mature, male, green dragon.

She didn’t understand what Lac had said to the dragon and her eyes darted from the Ranger to the Dragon. For all she knew, the Ranger could have just told the mighty beast she was a snack. But when she noticed the dragon studying her, she could feel him searching her mind and heart. Dragon magic was powerful and Jin had never been this close to one to study it let alone feel it. And what she felt caused her to gasp softly.

When he lifted his head, Jin thought for certain she was about to be devoured but when he bowed his head in respect to her, she blinked and glanced over at Lac once more with her wide eyes. When the large foot came forward with the razor sharp talon extended, Jin held her breath and watched the tip of the talon as it grew close to her.

What she felt when the talon touched her was unexplainable. Never, for all of her years, had she felt anything quite like this. Peace was only a word she had hope for. And a bitter hope at that. She never truly understood what that word meant….until this very moment. Daring to reach out and touch the scaled face of the dragon who had just given her a gift she would never be able to repay, she let a soft, sincere smile ease across her ebony features. Her voice was whisper soft as she spoke to him.

”Thank you, Lord Loki….I shall treasure your gift for all of eternity.”

When the big dragon moved to stand, she took a few quick steps back and tilted her head back to watch his massive body move. When he turned to stand beside Lac and looked across the horizon, Jin looked at Lac with a puzzled look on her face.

”What is it, Lac’Nala?”

Lac watched as a peace and serenity fell upon Ssinjins features as Loki lightly touched her heart. Then as the dragon moved and looked out across the plains, Lac felt a chill enter his very soul. , hearing Ssinjins question he solemly said "We must give time for our companions to rest and heal. But we must leave within four days time at the latest. I fear trouble looms and a darkness falls upon Oron_D_Naar. This battle we have just fought is but a taste of what is to come." He then turned and started back towards the great hall.

Loki took three steps and strang into the air climibing and heading north.

As Tiphereth played on with his flute, Jalisa let herself enjoy the merriment of the moment and forgot about the thoughts that troubled her mind. She would deal with them when the sun arose tomorrow. For now, she was just an Elfess enjoying the music and song of a talented bard.

As the night wore on, Jalisa began to feel the strain of her injury and the effort her magic took to heal the wound as well as the exhaustion from the fatigue from the battle. While the Rohirrim warriors celebrated, Jalisa stood slowly, caught Tiphereth’s gaze for a short moment and nodded ever so lightly with her head to let him know what direction she was heading in so he knew what became of her, and made her way out of the great hall to the water barrels that had been heated for bathing.

With a glance around, she made sure she was alone before her eyes glowed a bright red and the water from one of the barrels was drawn by an unseen force out of it and into a nearby tub. Once that was done, she glanced around once more before she closed her eyes. There was a dark shimmer that surrounded her form and in the next instant she was nude and stepping into the tub. Giving a sigh of relief as the hot water surrounded her humanoid form, she proceeded to dip her head beneath the waters surface and wash the dirt, gore and grime off her person.

There was some kind of scented soap nearby she decided didn’t smell too fragrant or too masculine. Scrubbing until her skin was nearly raw; Jalisa seemed as if she were trying to wash the very skin off her body. Reaching her right hand up and over her left shoulder, she let her fingertips gingerly touch the healing wound that was now an angry red welt on her otherwise flawless, ivory skin.

”Hurry vur irisv wux nasty pobon....”

With a heavy sigh, she knew she didn’t have time to enjoy the true luxury of the hot bath. With a glance around, she stepped out of the tub and once more closed her eyes. That same dark shimmer that had appeared around her to remove her clothes reappeared and when it faded away she was dressed once more in her typical black clothing.

Running her fingers through her dark hair, she tested the range of motion of her left arm and grimaced as the pain let her know she had a few more hours yet to wait before she could use it again to its full capacity. Standing next to the tub, she held her hand over it and as her eyes glowed red again the contents of the tub disappeared.

Walking out of the make shift bath house, she ran her fingers through her black locks to rid them of tangles and looked around. Rest was what she needed now. While Loki’s fire had destroyed much of the courtyard, many of the fortress was still intact that was within the side of the mountain. Wondering further into the Keep, she found a building that appeared to be some sort of guest quarters. It was too small for a bunk house for soldiers yet too big for anything else. Slipping inside, she checked to make sure it was unoccupied. Finding a nice, overstuffed bed, she eased her frame down on the straw filled mattress to find it was rather comfortable. Slowly laying down, Jalisa curled onto her right side, blinked her eyes slowly then closed them.

Sleep.

It would restore everything for her.

Except the weight she felt of being Verin’s toy.

But even that brought a smile to her face as she thought of Tiphereth. He was the best company her misery ever had.

The music; the singing; the merriment filled the great hall. The gaiety was intoxicating, especially for a being such as the bard. He played on and danced into the night but even his stone carved muscles began to falter from injury and was caught before he fell by two nearby warriors.

"Get thee to bed, white warrior." They said and Tiphereth was inclined to follow their suggestion. His abdomen pained him as he imagined it would for some time yet. The Gorrinvul Queen's blade would have surely ended his life were it not for Verin's intervention, but the bard hardly expressed any gratitude for his self-serving ways.

Thanking the warriors for their assistance and bidding all he passed a good night the Deithir's pride held him straight. It was only when he had left the hall and was beyond any prying eyes did he allow himself to succumb to the pain. Leaning against a wall and hunching over alleviated the burning in his gut somewhat but meditation and sleep would best serve to numb him.

Walking in the direction of the Dragoness, Tiphereth found himself outside on a stone rampart upon which several barrels had been heated by placing hot stones within them. Some were also partially burnt and the water within boiled by the fires of Loki, that yet illuminated the night. Through an archway, more barrels of warm water had been drawn into a makeshift bathhouse, but the bard preferred the open air.

Tiphereth sat upon the edge of the wall beside one of the barrels and unbuttoned his ornate purple coloured surcoat to reveal the embroidered, white silken shirt beneath. Pulling the garment out from beneath his blue leggings, the bard inspected the vicious wound that ran across his tattooed abdomen. Blood yet trickled from it in a few areas, tiny crimson trails ebbing over his sculpted from, like paint upon a statue. A drop fell to the ground, black in the golden fire light but in moments it dried and faded to a fine dust, ashen dust that was dispersed by the night wind.

The Deithir procured a soft cloth from his satchel of many pockets and soaked it in the warm water. He dipped it and rang it out several times while chanting an incantation over and over, until he was content then applied the warm cloth to his abdomen. He closed his eyes and as his hand slowly moved the compress across his injury it began to glow ever so slightly. Mystically he concentrated upon healing his wound but little else could be done, other than to ease his pain. It was the wound of a demi-goddess and was thus resilient against most forms of magic. All that could be done had been performed by the Drow's healer and now only time would mend the gash.

Tiphereth yawned and cast his weary eyes to the smoldering courtyard in time to see the great Dragon leap into the air and propel its immense body upward into the black sky. The gale caused by his massive wings fanned the fires bright and rushed through, Tiphereth's long shimmering locks. He paid little heed to the Seeker and the Drowess who yet lingered by the wreckage of the gate and made his way into the mountain fortress. He found what were the traveler's quarters. Chambers provided to those who were accepted as guests and there behind a closed door he could feel her.

In the security of her private, locked room, Jalisa slept soundly. As vigilant as she or any other warrior was, the throws of sleep still dulled the senses and they only remained attuned to only those sounds, smells and feelings that denoted malice. The appearance of the benevolent Phaerie out of thin air was as silent as a breeze. He melted through the wall like a phantom and leapt into the air, descending upon the soft bed like a cat without hardly denting the soft surface of the mattress.

The bed was large and Tiphereth saw no reason not to share it. He had not for a moment considered the Dragoness' privacy, nor did the common conventions that existed between genders occur to him. Why would they? She was after all, a Dragon. Naturally he recognized her feminine Elfin form and would admit that he found it much more appealing than that of a giant scaled beast but felt nothing else. Honestly he was exhausted and even though he realized he was among friends still did not like to rest unguarded. His injury and fatigue would make him vulnerable and so he figured between the two of them, one would detect an intruder.

Only when he at last laid down did his true weight began to return and reveal his presence, but he was well aware that the Dragoness had already sensed him. The scent of wild flowers hung heavy in the air, a tell-tale sign of the Deithir's presence, especially when in an environment such as they were presently.

Would the Dragoness disapprove? Tiphereth was too tired to worry. He laid down upon his back and rested a hand on top of his sore abdomen. He closed his black eyes and after another long yawn, began to drift off to sleep.

As Loki ascended into the air, Jin watched until she could see him no more, even with her darksight. When she finally turned to look at Lac’Nala, she gave him a tired smile and nodded.

”Four days of rest sounds utterly wonderful, Ranger. And right now, a hot bath is in order before I lay my head to sleep. To which I hope you will eventually join me in that when you have taken your leave from the King. I know there is more you need to discuss with him. When your weary body is finally ready for rest, you will know where to find me.”

With a soft, almost chaste kiss to his lips, Jin turned and walked back to where the water barrels had been heated. She was looking forward to spending some much needed time in the soothing, warm waters and without care of who was around, she stripped out of her clothes. Like Brianna, she tossed her tunic and leggings into the fire with a disgusted look upon her ebon features. Reaching into one of the many hidden pockets of her magical cloak, she produced new clothes, jasmine scented soap, a soft, clean towel, and a brush.

Her beloved leather breast plate would need repairing as would some of her other leather armor but that could wait until morning. In the meantime, she simply wanted rid of this stench that clung to her like….well….death. Like Jalisa, she opted to use the tub and once the water was filled into it, she eased her tired body into the warm, almost hot water and leaned back against the tub, closing her eyes.

Her fingers eased along the angry, red wound that marred her dark skin on the upper part of her chest, between her breasts and neck. The Gorrinvul Queen’s blade would have killed her if the hit had been true. Thankfully, all she had to deal with now was a painfully irritating wound that would eventually heal in time.

With a sigh she finally got around to doing what she had come to this area for in the first place; washing any and all trace of the Gorrinvul off her body. Jin scrubbed her hair and skin until she felt it tingle. It felt good to look down and see her dark skin instead of caked on; dried on ichor and gore from the battles she had been through.

Finally the water was beginning to turn cooler and she stepped out of the tub to dry off. Once she had her body dried and her hair toweled to the point where it wasn’t dripping anymore, she dressed in a pair of black leggings and a red tunic. She would have opted for something more….enticing….for Lac’Nala’s benefit, but she had to be practical right now. Besides, there would be another, better time for her to do that. As it was right now, they were in the middle of a war and when this was all said and done, THEN she would show him why Drow women are legendary lovers.

But for now, she resigned herself to simple, practical clothing. Thus the attire she chose for now. Once she was fully dressed, she gathered up her beloved leather armor and cloak and found the guest quarters. One door was already closed so she knew that room was occupied, but by who she wasn’t sure. She could have easily discovered but she left them to their slumber. Besides, she really didn’t care. Taking the next available room, she slipped in quietly, hung her cloak on the peg near the door and laid her leather armor on the far side of the room. She would clean and repair the armor tomorrow and the cloak would clean itself. For now….she craved sleep.

Testing the bed for its comfort, she was pleasantly surprised to discover it was perfect. Taking the brush through her hair and brushing her snow, white hair until it shimmers softly, she set the brush down on a small table next to the bed then pulled the blankets back and settled within them. The fires from Loki’s fire put a soft, amber glow in the room and as the light flickered in the room, Jin finally let her exhausted mind, body and soul seek the rest it so desperately needed.

Jalisa’s eyes slowly opened when the scent of wildflowers filled her room and her nose. Her ‘other’ senses picked up on his presence as well. She knew without even looking the Fey had come to her and a small smile turned the corners of her mouth up. If nothing else, they shared a common bond and in that bond had discovered they each needed the other in more ways than one. As she felt his weight finally ease onto the bed and settle, she dared to turn over on her other side and face him.

Her eyes were still blue but he could see a fain glow in them and for the longest time, she just laid there looking at him. What was she thinking? Was she upset? Was she looking for more? It was so difficult to tell with her. She wasn’t an easy creature to read, no matter what form she took.

Finally her eyes drifted down his form and she saw how he rested his hand on his abdomen knowing the wound still pained him for it pained her as well. While not as much as it did the Fey, it was still enough for her to understand what he was feeling.

Without asking, and not that she would anyway, she moved a little closer then reached her hand out and slid it easily under his own, letting her hand rest over the wound where his own had been. When he opened his mouth to protest, she closed her eyes and shushed him as her voice softly whispered to him.

”Shhh…..tis nothing more than a dulling of the pain. My magic cannot heal you entirely in this form but it can aid in diminishing your discomfort. Rest, bard. We both are in need of it.”

Content to curl up next to him, Jalisa closed her eyes and let her magic gently ease into Tiphereth to help take the pain away he was feeling. It wasn’t much, but it was a kind gesture she didn’t offer just anyone. Like Tiphereth, knowing there was another with heightened senses with her, Jalisa was asleep once more in no time.

Lac walked into the geat hall and approached King Theoden. Before Lac could say anything the king held up his hand and said "Lac'nala, my friend and ally, you have had a trying day or two, to say the least. Whatever it is, it can wait until you have rested. Now go and rest we shall speak in the morning." he then leaned in closer and with a voice that only Lac could hear he added "And you need a bath, you look terrible." Theoden then smiled, placing his hand on Lac's shoulder and said "Now go and rest, please."

Lac bowed respectfully and walked from the great hall, down a corridor to where the barrels of hot water were. He disrobed and settled into one of the tubs. After cleansing himself, Lac donned a tunic and trousers, gathered his weapons and soiled clothes and made his way to the guest chambers. As he walked down the corridor, a maiden with long blonde hair stopped him and said "My Lord Lac'nala, please allow me to wash your clothes for you. The dark lady warrior is in this room, fi you seek her."

Lac said "That will not be necessary ...." The maiden cut him short and lowering her eyes said "Please M'lord allow me to do this small favor for you."

Lac said "Very well then." as he handed her his soiled clothes "Can you have a chair brought for me, please."

"Of course M'Lord" she said and scurried down the corridor. Shortly a young boy brought a chair for Lac. Lac thanked him and sat the chair by the door of Ssinjin's room. There with his sword across his lap and his bow and quiver nearby, Lac sat and smoked his pipe.

The moon was just setting behind the great forest of Mirkwood and the sky was beginning to pale when Verin landed upon the plains of Wilderland. The great bat-like conjuration which carried him, set the Drow down lightly and once more transformed into a dark cloak that settled about his shoulders. The need for meditation and rest had at last caught up with the dark servant of Morgoth and he decided to set up a modest camp upon a low hill that possessed the only few trees that could be seen for leagues around. As a creature of the underworld the Drow took comfort in having something... anything above his head and the thick canopy provided by the branches was most soothing.


Verin was pleased with his progress. Looking northwest across the vast plains from whence the North Men, the ancestors of the Rohirrim had come, he knew that far beyond the horizon was the River Running. Past it was the Redwater River that flowed from the Iron Hills where the exiled Dwarves of the Grey Mountains had settled long ago, the very range that touched upon the eastern Red Mountains also known as the Orocarni. It was beyond this range, that Oron_D_Narr lied on the other side of the dead inland sea of Helcar that was not commonly drawn upon the maps of Middle Earth. There, however, was where a new world began. A vast, ancient land with its own lore and pantheon. A land that Verin sought to claim as his own and with it under his control he would invade Middle Earth and from it, conquer all of the otherworlds that touched upon it, one at a time. Such was the desire of Morgoth and so it would be done.

Far to the east, Verin could just make out the tips of the mountain range that bordered the western shores of the Sea of Rhun. Just northwest of that inland sea was Dorwinion, a lush region of gardens and vineyards were the highest quality of wine in all of Middle Earth could be found. The sorcerer had heard of the legendary grapes and thought that he would have to make an effort to visit this place. Perhaps that was where he would place his fortress when all of Oron_D_Narr bowed before him, but enough of dreaming, sleep was what he presently needed. He was several days ahead of the companions of the quest and could indulge himself with a long rest.

The Drow sorcerer made himself comfortable within his conjured tent that resided beneath the the largest of the trees and decided to check up on his minions before allowing himself to sleep through brightest part of the day. How pleased he was to find that they were so near one another, it made keeping an eye on them so much easier.


The Deithir stirred in his sleep, pulling Jalisa's hand from his abdomen. Her magic had worked wonders and the pain had all but subsided allowing the bard to get a good night's rest. Unfortunately while he slept his body once more became the vessel of Verin. Tiphereth awoke and turned to the Dragoness but the eyes that looked upon her were not the cold inky black pits of the Deithir but the red, luminescent stare of their Drow master. He looked over the lithe female body beside him and considered how easily he could have her, but where was the sport in that? No, he was not one to force himself upon a woman, he had his pride. His ways were far more seductive and manipulative and before long she would succumb to him of her own free will.

The Deithir's eyes closed, the Tiphereth awoke. He could feel, Verin and knew where he was. The Drow was far away and would without a doubt reach Oron_D_Narr long before them. Who really knew how long it would take them to travel to the extreme north eastern part of the world and during that time, Verin could cause much destruction.