Part Five
The Face of the Enemy

No one could speak in the wake of Lothiriel’s revelation.

The three women stood in stony silence, allowing the words to sink into their consciousness despite the desperate hope that what Lothiriel claimed, was untrue. However, now that they were forced to accept what the young lady of Dol Amroth had revealed to be the truth, none could deny that finally, the pieces of the puzzle were falling into place. The picture that they were now presented with at the unmasking of their enemy was one that made perfect sense. Unfortunately, knowing the identity of their opponent served only to drive home the magnitude of their predicament.

For an eternity of time, which in true reckoning was but a few seconds, the thoughts of each woman tumbled backwards into the events of the recent past. While their perspective may have differed, their memories of what had transpired before and how it had evolved in their present dilemma was more or less the same.

It was more than a year since the triumvirate had come together to battle the enemy at Nargothrond, the great dragon Glaurung. The beast known as the father of all dragons or Urloki, as they were once known, had been hiding in what remained of Nargothrond following the sinking of Beleriand following the War of the Wrath. Somehow, the underground city of Nargothrond, constructed by the Noldor elves as the central hub for a series of connecting caverns beneath the earth, had survive the collapse of Beleriand into the sea. Prior to the catastrophe, Glaurung had breached the walls of Nargothrond and it was from this ancient fortress, that he conspired to resurrect the evil lord Morgoth.

To this end, he had sought to use Arwen's unborn child to give his master form in the present world, to infuse Morgoth’s dark spirit into the infant while it slumbered in the womb. In a race against time to see that this did not come to pass, Arwen and Eowyn had set out from Minas Tirith determined to reach Glaurung before the babe born from her became the incarnation of Middle earth’s greatest foe. It was during this quest that they had encountered Melia, who was a Ranger of Angmar.

Following the War of the Ring, Aragorn decided that even if they were not all Dunedain, the Rangers were an important component of maintaining stability in his kingdom. Warriors who knew how to defend themselves, with a keen eye for trouble and an inherent desire to fight for the good of all were inducted into the service of the king and given the appellation of Ranger in homage to those who had battled Sauron for so long. In much the same way as the Dunedain before them, the new Rangers traveled the wilds of Middle earth, keeping their eyes open and ensuring that the king was provided with accurate intelligence of what was transpiring in his kingdom.

Melia had elected to join them in their quest because as a Ranger, her duty to the king compelled her to protect the queen as well and it was during the last leg of this journey, that they first encountered the shapeshifters. Shape shifters of skin changers as they were sometimes known were creatures thought to have been the creation of Morgoth during the First Age. Like the dragons and the Balrogs, the skin changers had emerged from Angband long before the Maia Arien guided Laurelin’s fruit to the stars to give birth to the first rays of sunlight upon Middle earth.

The skin changers, posing as Melia during their journey through the catacomb like tunnels to Nargothrond, were able to overcome the three women and bring them to their master Glaurung. If it were not for the timely arrival of the Fellowship led by Aragorn who was determined that Arwen would not face this peril without his presence, Glaurung’s dark plan would have come to pass. Following the battle erupted after the Fellowship had arrived, it was believed that the shape shifters had been destroyed along with Glaurung when Arwen called upon the powers of the Valar, Lord Ulmo to crumble the walls of Nargothrond. Barely escaping the destruction of Beleriand’s last stronghold, Arwen had had correctly assumed that the skin changers were buried under the sea along with their master.

However, there was never a true accounting of how many of the shadow things there were to begin with and since it was possible for them to assume any form, it was equally reasonable to believe that they could have escaped Nargothrond. Under the guidance of Glaurung and Morgoth, they were formidable enough enemies but unleashed to their own devices? Arwen did not even want to think about how much mischief they could cause.

"They were destroyed," Melia broke the silence by stating the obvious that none of them now believed to be true, "when Nargothrond fell to the sea, they were destroyed."

"We were never certain of that," Eowyn answered as if all the breath had left her body. There was no doubt in her mind that what Lothiriel had seen was indeed skin changers. Everything that was happening in Minas Tirith and with their husbands could be explained when one knew what they were dealing with. The skin changer that traveled with them to Nargothrond had roused no suspicions until it was too late. If the beast could assume Melia’s form so easily, there was no reason to think that it could not do the same for Aragorn or worse yet, Faramir. During the battle where Glaurung was defeated, they had attempted to deceive her by using that very disguise and until he had spoken, Eowyn had though it was her husband fighting at her side.

"You have encountered these creatures before?" Lothiriel stared at them with shock realizing that her revelation was not as much as a surprise as she thought it would be. Lothiriel knew what skin changers were, the hero Beorn was said to a skin changer but there were also other forms of skin changers. However, what information existed on these creatures were so steeped in folklore that there was some doubt to whether or not they truly existed. If Lothiriel had not seen them for herself, she would have found her story rather incredulous. Unfortunately, what she had seen was real and what was more, the queen and her companions knew it.

"Yes," Arwen nodded, trying to compose her thoughts after Lothiriel’s revelation although the situation was better understood now they knew their enemy. "During the celebration when news of Eldarion’s impending birth was announced, I learnt of a plot to bring him harm. Lady Eowyn and I traveled to the Blue Mountains and encountered an ancient evil to whom these creatures were in service. We brought an end to their master and we hoped that it would see their demise as well but it appears we were wrong."

"They must have escaped Nargothrond," Melia ventured a guess. "After we were away, they must have escaped through the tunnels the same way we did or perhaps even with us. With their ability to mask their true natures, it would have been easy to do so without our notice."

As much as Arwen could have liked to discuss the situation in the hopes of formulating a new strategy now that they knew what they were up against, there was little time to do so for her thoughts immediately sensed danger. Her eyes shifted swiftly to the corridor from which Lothiriel had appeared and knew that they would have company even before the sounds of the first footsteps were heard.

"They’re coming!" The words leaving her felt like a whisper but to everyone else, it was a shout.

The guards appeared around the corner, a handful of them pausing in surprise to find not one woman but four. Hands dropped immediately to their weapons for it was no longer the matter of retrieving a frightened girl but rather three very adept warriors who had seen almost as much battle as any soldier present.

"RUN!" Eowyn shouted, her cry of warning corresponding with the sound of one of the soldiers ordering them to halt.

Arwen wrapped her hand around Lothiriel who was only capable of gasping in fear and started running, dragging the young woman along the stone corridor as the Gondorian troops began their pursuit. Lothiriel allowed herself to be led, too frightened to do anything but adhere to the guidance of those wiser than her. Eowyn drew her sword but it was Melia who held her ground because she was in the best position to cover their retreat. The former Ranger armed her crossbow swiftly and wasted no more than a splinter of time before releasing the first steel bolt at their pursuers, giving her companions the time required to gain some distance in their flight.

"Go!" She ordered Eowyn who cast an anxious glance of concern at the Ranger but knew that this was not the time to linger when the enemy was approaching so quickly. Without saying anything further, the lady of Ithilien continued down the narrow passageway.

The first bolt that escaped Melia’s crossbow struck the wall, narrowly missing the lead guard though intentionally so. Melia had no wish to kill any one for these soldiers who were only following the orders of their king, unaware that he had been ensnared by a spell. They were certainly not the enemy. The sight of steel digging into stone abated their determination to give chase slightly as they paused briefly to reassess the manner in which they gave pursuit.

Unfortunately as much as Melia did not want to harm any of them, she knew that it would require a stronger incentive than a warning shot to convince them to desist in their chase. Arming the crossbow once more, she released a second and third bolt, striking flesh instead of stone. The duo leading the guards crumpled to their feet for she had continued to aim low, injuring their legs instead of their torsos which could result in fatal wounds. They toppled to the ground, their bodies offering sufficient obstacle to the others behind them when they fell.

"Melia! Come on!" Eowyn had paused long enough to call out, refusing to leave the Easterling behind.

Melia wasted no time heeding that demand and immediately lowered her weapon to join their friends in their hasty departure. No doubt the commotion they were causing would bring the rest of the palace guard in good time and the secrecy that they desired to move about the place was almost certainly impossible now. As if to confirm her fears, she could hear the footsteps of another contingent of guards approaching from down the hall even as she had discouraged one away. Voices began to fill the passageway indicating that their presence was being announced to those who did not already know they were there.

Looking over her shoulder as they entered a larger corridor with smaller passages emptying into it, Melia knew they could not maintain their freedom in such closed surroundings. There were too many servants in the hallways acting as obstacles to their flight. Their unpredictable reaction to the ongoing chase was making it hazardous for all parties concerned and exhausting Melia in the effort to ensure no innocents came to harm in the crossfire of their battle.

Appearing on the heels of these frantic thoughts were more guards who were shouting at her to stop, making claims that neither her nor her friends would come to harm if they surrendered now. For obvious reasons, Melia knew that was a promise they could not keep. The guards were merely soldiers and the safety they promised would last as long as it took for Arwen, Eowyn, Lothiriel and herself to be delivered to the king.

For the moment, the nature of the long bow and her own crossbow made it easier for her to shoot at them then it was for them to retaliate. Unfortunately, what they lacked in their inability to attack, they gained in their large numbers and in the final analysis, her supply of bolts was finite. It was entirely possible than in a matter of minutes; they could flood every hallway in the palace with so many soldiers that it would be impossible for her or her friends to remain at large.

"We have to get out of sight!" Melia shouted ahead, uncertain of whether or not Arwen could hear her as they raced up another corridor in the servant’s quarters.

It did not take long for Melia to realize that Arwen was leading them towards a stairway at the end of the hall which suited the Ranger well for they needed to leave this section of the palace before more soldiers arrived and overwhelmed them by sheer numbers. Arwen was clearing the way before her with her sword, while somehow ensuring that Lothiriel remained close at hand. She was determined to see that the young woman from Dol Amroth did not fall behind or through the chaos of their present circumstances be left behind. Among them, Lothiriel was the least capable of protecting herself and her older companions felt a wave of protectiveness towards the girl.

Thankfully, they reached the entrance to the stairway, illuminated by the window on its ceiling. It was narrow and spiraled in a corkscrew direction, ensuring that only one person could proceed at a time. Arwen entered the path of the winding staircase, ensuring that Lothiriel followed her directly. Eowyn remained behind them both, leaving Melia to guard their rear for she was best able to do so with her crossbow. For the moment, they seemed to have lost sight of the guards but the company could hear their eminent approach clearly.

What transpired next at the intersection of the corridor was the one thing Melia prayed would not happen.

"Mia," his silken voice brushed against her ear like a soft breath, bringing her race to staircase to an utter and complete half, almost against her will.

Melia froze in her steps and found herself compelled to turn around slowly. Fighting her instincts for self-preservation, Melia knew that if it were anyone else, she would not have been caught in this manner but not even a Ranger as experienced as she could avoid detection by an elf of his skill. But it was not merely his elven heritage that allowed him to find her, she was his mate and the bond that had been forged from their first coupling was forever. It would last beyond her death and follow him for the rest of his life. How could she think that he would not be able to find her when he would feel her even when she was dead?

"Prince," she found herself saying the crossbow that had been raised to shoot began to lower as he stood before her. When they faced each other like this, it was impossible for Melia to think that a spell could steal him away from her. She loved him beyond reason, despite all the tragedy that awaited them in the years ahead. All of it made worthwhile by the knowledge that he loved her just as dearly and would never hurt her.

Until now.

"What are you doing?" Legolas Greenleaf demanded as he approached her, his expression filled with concern and worry. Taking a step towards her, he seemed shocked when he saw her retreating backward with her crossbow raised once again, this time aimed firmly at him again in a clear warning to desist.

"What am I doing?" She demanded fighting the doubt that was filling her thoughts. "What you and the king are doing would be a more appropriate question. Eowyn and I were to be arrested under his orders!"

"Arrested!" He exclaimed with what seemed to Melia to be genuine shock. "Aragorn never issued such an order! He merely wanted to speak to both of you regarding some disturbing news he had received about the queen."

"Such requests would have been better served without the presence of armed guards," Melia retorted sharply but inwardly she was wrestling with her conscience. There was so much sincerity in his voice that Melia almost believed him but she was still unconvinced that this was not some kind of deception. For all she knew, he could be a skin changer. However, her husband did not appear as if he were under any enchantment and if he was not, then perhaps the situation was not as desperate as they believed.

"Mia," he met her gaze in earnest. "I love you and I would never stand by and allow any harm to come to you, not even if he were the king of Gondor or the world for that matter. Do you believe that I could allow you to be harmed when I have so few years with you as it is? We have a finite time on this earth together; I would squander none of it. Please believe me, I only want to clarify this entire situation, not make it worse."

Melia knew this was a trap.

She needed desperately to believe that it was but her heart would not allow it. As he spoke his words of love for her, she felt her good judgement sway and the weapon in her hand lowered when her legs betrayed her and moved towards him. Going to him, she saw his handsome face break into a smile, the same smile that had won her heart when she had been so determined to keep him at arm’s length. His eyes danced with all the light of the stars as they met in an embrace and greeted each other with a kiss of heated passion. When he held her in his arms, the accomplished woman she was disappeared and she was happy to be the girl in love with her prince.

A part of her issued caution but Melia was never sensible when it came to Legolas.

"Is this a trap?" she asked softly when their lips pulled away.

Legolas lifted his chin, meeting her eyes before he spoke, "I am afraid so."

She nodded slowly, her eyes glistening with tears as she looked at him, knowing deep down inside that he was not the only one guilty of deception, that she too, had deceived herself for a brief second into believing that he was the man she loved, not someone else’s puppet.

"1 hope you forgive me," she spoke with words of anguish, "if I do what I must."

Legolas opened his mouth to respond when suddenly the twang of a crossbow replaced his words with a sharp cry of pain. Melia closed her eyes as she heard him utter it stepping back as the bolt speared him through the thigh and forced him away from her.

"Whore!" He growled at her as he clutched his bleeding leg while she began to weep before him. "I gave you every chance to come with me willingly but no more! GUARDS!"

His voice almost feral and coming form an elf known for his ability to mask his emotions, the naked rage in his eyes shook Melia to the core. Drying her eyes, she heard the footsteps of soldiers who had been lying in wait while the prince attempted to subdue his wife with deception instead of force. However, his failure changed their surveillance into ambush and Melia turned on her heels to flee.

"I am sorry. When this is over, you will understand that I was compelled to this course," she declared once more, anguish in her voice as she moved past him and tried not to be affected by the sight of her husband clutching his bleeding thigh.

The bolt that penetrated his skin was embedded in the floor where he had been standing. The proximity of the target when she released the bolt had sent it through his leg and out again.

"You are not going anywhere!" He shouted and lunged for her. Even though he was injured, his reflexes and his strength were still stronger than hers and he wrapped his fist around her ankle before she could escape his reach. Pulling back forcefully, he tore Melia off her feet and sent her to the ground face first.

Her head slammed hard against the ground, causing stars to appear before her eyes in a wave of dizziness. Warm blood escaped her split lip and down her nose. Despite the pain, she knew that in seconds she would be caught unless she got to her feet immediately. Unfortunately, his grip upon her was viselike and she did not think he would let go. Struggling hard to regain her balance as she tried to escape, Melia felt as if she were swimming in mud. She caught a glimpse of his eyes and saw two orbs of black onyx staring back at him where there should have been the blue of the sea.

Arwen was right, she thought with anguish, he was no longer her husband but a shape shifter’s creature.

"You will not escape this time wife," Legolas hissed and the manner, in which he spoke the word ‘wife’, was like a curse that made her skin crawl.

"I think she will," Eowyn’s voice interjected suddenly.

She punctuated her statement by bringing down the hilt of her sword against the back of his skull. Legolas did not have time to utter a sound as she knocked him unconscious and left him on the floor in a dead heap. Without pausing to draw breath, Eowyn was soon at her side, helping Melia to her feet before the guards reached them. Although she was still disorientated, Melia followed Eowyn’s lead as they ran into the entrance of the stairway. Eowyn paused long enough to seal the door behind her though the wooden beam across it would not hold for long. Still it would give them enough time to put more distance between themselves and the soldiers pursuing them.

"Are you alright? You are bleeding," Eowyn said breathlessly with concern at the crimson smear across Melia’s lips and running down her nose as they hurried up the stairs.

Her head was still throbbing from its impact against the stone floor but Melia’s greatest injuries were emotional, not physical. Wiping away the blood with her sleeve, she nodded quickly and gave response to Eowyn’s question, "it is nothing that will not heal. I am well enough to follow you."

"Good," Eowyn replied with clear relief. "When I saw that you were not behind us, I thought I had better find you."

"I am grateful that you did," Melia replied softly. She was more distressed by the whole encounter than she would like to admit but this was not the time to discuss it in depth. "I was a fool, I knew it was a trap but I could not help. I wanted desperately to believe that he was still my prince."

"I would not have behaved any differently if it were Faramir," Eowyn said sympathetically and wondered how she would fare when the enemy decided to use Faramir against her. "Arwen was right, they would not be above using our feelings for our husbands against us. I do not look forward to facing Faramir when the time comes."

"I would like to think we might have found a way to break the spell before that moment came," Melia replied as she continued to follow Eowyn up the staircase.

Eowyn’s answer was interrupted by the sound of something heavy smashing hard against the sealed door. The explosion of noise filled the passageway as both women cast their gaze downwards and saw the door shuddering against the beam that kept it barricaded. The weight against the door had yet to buckle the beam keeping it sealed but judging by the force of the pounding, it would not be long before it yielded completely.

"We had better find a way fast," Eowyn said grimly, "I do not relish having to face my husband in battle."

Or worse yet, having to defeat him.

************

Her purpose in returning to the palace had been simple enough; to reach one of the men who were enchanted by the skin changer spell in the hopes of finding some way of breaking the control over their minds. Unfortunately, that proved impossible now since it appeared that any hope of a covert entry into the palace ended the moment, Lothiriel joined their company. Arwen did not blame the girl for their present situation, only regretted that their plan had gone astray and the situation was gaining such fierce momentum that it appeared it would be sometime before they could catch their breaths and formulate a new one.

At the present however, Arwen would be grateful if they could just make it out of the palace without being captured. After leading her friends through the winding staircase to the upper levels of the White Tower, Arwen had hoped to gain a little respite as they decided what they would do with the news Lothiriel had brought them. Unfortunately, they were intercepted at almost every point and it became apparent to Arwen that they were being driven to the very top of the castle. This disturbed her greatly because it seemed the enemy had a plan and was better able to execute it then the frantic flight she, Eowyn and Melia had been undertaking until now.

It was rather chilling that she and her friends were fighting for their lives when outside the window of their present location, people were celebrating, unaware that their kingdom was in dire peril. Fireworks exploded in the night sky, fiery blooms bringing the dark canvas to life in vibrant shades of color. People were celebrating throughout Minas Tirith and in the palace itself, oblivious to what was happening because they were driven to the highest tower, out of sight and mind of those demanded secrecy for their covert invasion of the Citadel.

"Watch out!" Eowyn’s words of caution sliced through her consciousness as one of the guards they were battling swung a blade in her direction. It appeared that the determination to capture them alive was no longer a consideration. Why should it when they were skin changers involved? The foul creatures could just as easily assume their forms if she or any of her friends were killed, with no one the wiser until it was too late.

Arwen dodged the swing of the sword easily enough and lashed out with her own. With elven reflexes, she was able to move faster and her blade met her opponents with a sharp clang. The soldier she was fighting was uncertain, she could sense it from him. He was fighting her in earnest but she could tell that he was confused as to why he was doing it. She was after all until this morning, his queen and the beloved wife of his king.

"Do you not think it is strange that you find yourself in this position?" She asked as she held her sword against his and shoved back hard.

He stumbled a little but not enough to be at a disadvantage. The man did not answer and Arwen suspected it was because he had no response to give that would make sense to her or to himself. She closed in on him, taking advantage of his momentary lapse to disarm him. She had no desire to kill him but she was not about to be captured either. In a swift flick of her wrist and far more dexterity then he was capable, Arwen’s blade circled his and tore the weapon from his hand. The blade clattered to the floor noisily.

"Pick it up Lothiriel!" Arwen ordered.

Lothiriel who had spent much of the battle in a corner, remaining out of the way of those capable of fighting it, emerged quickly from her hiding place, determined not to fail the queen who had protected her so far. She grasped the weapon in her hand as Arwen closed in on the soldier she had been fighting, making Lothiriel wish that she had spent some time learning the sword. It never seemed like a necessary skill to learn, not when she was a lady of Dol Amroth and her father had at his disposal an army with which he protected his realm and his family.

"Withdraw," Arwen ordered as she held the point of her sword against the man’s throat. He had been forced against the wall now that he was unarmed and stared at her with the same uncertainty, that he was at a loss to understand why she was his enemy.

"I cannot," he stammered.

"Are you in a hurry to die?" she hissed with uncharacteristic venom.

"No," he swallowed, "I have orders to remain here."

Arwen did not like the sound of this at all.

"Why?" She demanded suspiciously.

"Arwen," Eowyn who had been battling her own opponent’s suddenly spoke.

Arwen shifted her gaze momentarily from the soldier to the lady of Ithilien. She and Melia had been fighting the rest of the soldiers sent after them and the floor was littered with their successes, some either on the floor unconscious or wounded. However, Arwen began to understand what her own opponent had meant when he was told to remain here in this juncture at the top of the tower. How had she not felt him?

"Undomiel," Aragorn replied and this time he was carrying Anduril in his hand as he approach. She could not bring herself to wield his weapon against it and left the blade when she had taken flight from their apartments. The king was dressed as if he were prepared to entertain guests but the look in his eyes was anything but cordial.

"You do not have the right to call me that name," Arwen hissed, noting that there was no one with him but she did not think they were very far behind. No doubt they were waiting for their king to give the order to proceed. "You are not my Estel."

"I am your husband," he repeated himself. "And you have stolen my son. I will know where he is."

"You are not my husband," she returned sharply, hating to say these words but love for him did not alter the truth. "You are a shape shifter’s creature and you will never get your hands upon our son while their stink is upon you!"

"I am no one’s creature!" He snapped sharply but his rage did not hide his own confusion. Whatever the enchantment was upon him, it did not appear to make him aware that he was under someone else’ sway. It was an insidious spell, Arwen decided and when she freed him of it, she would make her displeasure known to those who had cast it upon him.

"Aragorn," Arwen looked at him dead in the eye, "you are not yourself and until you are yourself, this will not end. I will do what I can to help you but I will not allow your master to destroy everything that we have fought so hard to build."

"You do not have the strength to stand against me wife," he raised his blade and Arwen felt her heart sink because even with her skill, she could not match him in swordplay. There was not a person in the entire kingdom that could.

"She does not have to," Melia replied aiming her crossbow at the base of his skull.

"Will you shoot me Ranger?" He asked coldly, his gaze still fixed on Arwen, tearing layers of skin off her flesh with the distance in eyes. "Will you do the same to me as you did to your prince?"

"I will do what I must to protect the queen," Melia answered firmly.

"As will I," Eowyn raised her sword to his neck. "I do not wish to fight you Aragorn, but we will if we must."

"You have nowhere else to go," Aragorn answered unperturbed by the momentary stalemate. "My warriors are waiting for my signal to proceed. They will become impatient in time if I do not speak and will surely come to their king’s aid. Do you intend to fight them all? You have been admirably attempting to keep from harming any of their number but what if they do not have the same consideration for you? You have stolen the crown prince from his bed and threatened your king, that is a treasonable offence. Men are put to death for less."

Arwen swallowed and stared at her husband, feeling her heart break inside her chest as she told herself that this was not his fault or him for that matter. However, the piercing gaze that stared back at her made it hard to be so objective.

"Arwen, take Lothiriel and go!" Eowyn ordered, painfully aware of what her friend must be enduring at this instant but unable to afford her the time to adjust. Melia had almost been captured for the same weakness and Eowyn was not about to let Arwen fall into the same trap.

Arwen nodded wildly, tearing her eyes away from her husband because being in Estel’s presence would only make it more difficult to think clearly and they needed her to be focussed if any of them were to survive their present dilemma. Her eyes moved across the hallway and saw that there was only one way to go. The end of the corridor from which Estel had emerged were no doubt filled with waiting guards while the door she was had selected as her escape route had no alternate means of entry save one and she was still uncertain how they were going to manage that little miracle. Unfortunately, it was the only route that offered the slightest chance of escape.

"This is not over," Arwen said finally as she retreated, "I will have my husband back."

"That," he stared at her sharply, "I can guarantee you will have though not in the way you envision madam."

"Come on," Lothiriel said taking the initiative by pulling Arwen forward, seeing the anguish in the eyes of her queen and knowing that nothing would be served with the continuation of this debate.

As Arwen and Lothiriel drew away, Aragorn suddenly lashed out at Melia, knowing that of the two women holding their weapons at him, the lady Ranger would have the most difficulty reacting to anything unexpected. When Melia had taken positioned behind him, she had aimed her crossbow at his neck and unless she intended to kill him, Aragorn doubted she would shoot without first readjusting her aim to ensure that he was not harmed grievously. The ball of his foot struck the side of her foot, immediately driving her to the ground on her knees. He retreated from Eowyn long enough to escape the edge of her blade and when she came after him, Anduril was already raised and waiting.

Melia cursed under her breath as she saw Aragorn and Eowyn facing each other in battle. It did not take long for the commotion to attract the guards that had been lying in wait for the king’s signal. The ranger wasted no time contending with this new threat and was grateful that Legolas was not leading them. She supposed that after the injury she had given him, it was likely that he was in the House of Healing being tended to. She immediately laid down a relentless barrage of bolts, ensuring that the warriors attempting to apprehend did not progress far enough along the corridor to reach them.

"Melia run!" Eowyn ordered as she faced Aragorn.

"What about you?" The ranger demanded, not at all happy to be leaving the lady of Ithilien who had come to her rescue earlier.

"GO!" Eowyn’s curt response answered her question and Melia struggled briefly before she realized that she did not have enough for bolts for a renewed assault upon the guards when they finally recovered enough to give pursuit or if more followed. Cursing the logic of the situation, Melia had no choice but to do as Eowyn asked and ran for the doorway in which Arwen and Lothiriel had gone.

In the meantime, Eowyn was having difficulties of her own, finding herself face to face with Aragorn with swords drawn. As confident as she was in her ability to handle a weapon, Eowyn could not deny the sliver of doubt that was driving its way into her mind that perhaps she could not win against the man she had once loved and still felt more than she should, even now.

"Aragorn," Eowyn looked at him desperately, "do not bring us to this."

"It is not I that brings us to this predicament my lady," Aragorn said aloofly, sounding far too menacing for her liking. "You need only lay down your sword and end this without bloodshed."

"I seriously doubt that," Eowyn answered, realizing that they were going to do battle. There was no avoiding it. "You are not yourself my king and I cannot allow your masters to gain a foothold of Middle earth."

"I am no one’s creature!" Aragorn snapped and stabbed his blade in her direction. Eowyn barely had time to side step it and swing her own weapon to deflect it from her. Slamming her sword against the steel of his, she rotated her wrist in a tight circle and attempted to disarm him. Unfortunately, Aragorn was too good a swordsman to fall for that and he returned her strike with one of his own. There was so much power beneath his blade that Eowyn was driven backward and his speed in retracting Anduril gave her little time to recover. She ducked to avoid being stuck when he parried hard, forcing an equally practiced riposte from her.

"You are skilled with a sword Lady of Ithilien," Aragorn remarked as they pulled back from one another. "However, there is more to battle then just sword play."

He came at her again and Eowyn moved to block the strike, however, the instant her blade connected with Anduril, Aragorn’s free hand clamped around the wrist holding her sword. He pulled her forward in one swift movement and slammed his forehead against hers. As Eowyn doubled back in pain and disorientation, she felt the back of his knuckle striking the side of her face. The blow was powerful enough to send her sprawling. She would have fallen to the floor if not for the fact that she hit the wall first. Her head smacked painfully against the brick and Eowyn had barely sense to see that he was coming at her again.

She dodged the punch that would have rendered her unconscious if it were allowed to connect to her face. Slipping out of his reach, Eowyn collected herself enough to kick hard after he had swung, landing her foot firmly against his ribs. Aragorn uttered a little grunt of pain but it effected him no more then that because he lunged towards her in a full body tackle. Both of them landed on the ground, Eowyn bearing the brunt of their unceremonious landing since his weight was on top of her. Eowyn struggled to escape him but his grip around her body was strong and she found herself kicking him to get free.

Breathing hard, Eowyn crawled away on all fours when she felt his hands on her ankle. Before she could pull away, he had dragged her back to him, despite her frantic efforts to escape. He moved far swifter then she could possibly imagine and wondered that if all those years living in Rivendell had perhaps given him a little elvish speed because before she could even think to react, he had both her hands pinned to the ground.

"Give in Madam," Aragorn hissed as he kept firm grip upon her hands. "Give in and you may survive this."

"NO!" Eowyn shouted and brought her knee up as high as it would go, slamming it into Aragorn’s spine, unseating him just enough for her to twist hard and throw him off her body. Bleeding from where she had fallen and from where he had hit her, Eowyn saw him regaining his balance and turning a menacing gaze at her. For the first time since this all began, she felt herself gripped with fear. The emotion made her run even though she should have considered her action first.

Aragorn intercepted her easily, throwing a fist into her side and filling the room with the satisfied crack of ribs. Eowyn cried out in pain and doubled over, halted in mid step by the brutal attack and looked up in time to catch a fist square in the face. All the strength left her then as she collapsed to the floor, blood spurting out of her nose, her ribs stabbing at her in white-hot agony. She landed on her side and saw him standing over her but the desire to fight back was gone, there was only one thought in her mind and that was to run.

Struggling to her feet, Eowyn made a dash to get past but Aragorn was not fast enough to by him. Fortunately, she did not need to.

"Aragorn!" Melia called out and caught the attention of the Gondorian king.

Aragorn turned and around and smashed in the face with Melia’s crossbow. He staggered backwards but in no way did Melia believe the threat of him was ended. Dropping low, she threw out her leg in a wide arch and swept him off his feet. The former Ranger collapsed unto the floor hard and Melia wasted no time hurrying to Eowyn.

"You were supposed to go.." Eowyn said weakly as Melia began to drag her away from the momentarily stunned king.

"Fortunately I listen about as well as you do," Melia quipped as she shut the door behind them and barricaded it with a chair though she did not think that it would hold for very long.

"Where are we going?" Eowyn asked grimacing in pain whilst still clutching what she was certain to be broken ribs.

"There is only one way out of this tower," Melia answered grimly, "other than surrendering."

Eowyn did not like the sound of this.

"How?"

*************

Lothiriel looked down and flinched when she could not see the ground. They were that far away from it. She gave Arwen a frightened look as the wind whipped in her hair and chilled her skin, hoping that the queen was making a jest. Surely, she could not be serious about taking this course. Within reach, the standard of the city fluttered in majestic glory as it had done since the construction of the White Tower or the more appropriately the Tower of Ecthelion. The ropes that kept it secured were long enough for the purpose that Arwen desired.

"We will be killed!" She exclaimed as she saw Arwen stealing the ropes that kept the banner in place.

"We will be killed if we remain here and allow ourselves to be captured," Arwen said paying little attention to the girl because she was focussed too much on getting them off this tower. The rope was long enough to suit their purposes though the descent would be by no means easy. It was certainly not enough to reach the ground but it would take them to a lower level in the tower, possibly avoiding the guards for a time.

"Perhaps they will not harm us," Lothiriel offered desperately, looking over the edge of the tower roof and finding her head spinning at just the notion of descending its length. She knew she was making excuses and was ashamed of it but she had never been in such a situation of peril in her entire life.

"I seriously doubt that," Melia retorted as she and Eowyn stepped onto the roof with them.

"Eowyn!" Arwen let out a gasp when she saw Melia’s arms securely around Eowyn’s body, helping her to stand. "What happened?"

"I am afraid I found out first hand why your husband strikes fear into his enemies," Eowyn muttered as she took a moment to rest after Melia had set her down and was finding some way to barricade the entrance behind them.

"Estel did this to you?" Arwen asked in dismay. "Oh Eowyn I am so sorry!"

"It is not your fault or his," Eowyn replied quickly, "he is under the spell of the enemy and he has always been a formidable warrior in battle."

Arwen did not what else to say. She was horrified at Eowyn’s state and uncertain that with the lady’s injuries, she could manage the feat that Arwen was about to ask her. Climbing down a length of rope was a physically exhausting exercise as it was. "Melia, can you climb rope?"

Melia nodded quickly, aware of Arwen’s plan and understanding that some modification was going to be needed to compensate for Eowyn’s injuries and Lothiriel’s lack of physical strength. "I can manage. What about you?"

"In three thousand years of life, I have been called on to undertake that particular skill," Arwen replied. "Eowyn, you and Lothiriel will have to be lowered. I can see no other way that you can descend this tower."

"Lowered?" Eowyn’s eyes widened and then realized where they were. "You must be joking!"

"This is hardly the time for that," Arwen retorted resuming her preparations for the undertaking. Even as she answered, she heard the distant sound of door being pounded into opening. It would not take them long to breach their refuge. "We do not have the luxury of time and this is the only way. The library is within reach of the rope and it is a seldom traversed part of the palace. From there I believe we can make our way down the tower and leave the way we came."

"Leave?" Eowyn looked at her. "I thought you wanted to capture one of them."

"At this stage, I would be happy if we left the White Tower in one piece," Arwen replied. "We must think of another plan."

"Yes," Lothriel declared. "You must go and stop those skin changers from entering the palace. They were disguised as Gondorian soldiers meaning they could already be inside the Citadel.

"One thing at a time," Melia retorted, gazing over the edge of the roof at the colorful celebrations below and wondered how they had come to this. She did not relish the idea of climbing down the tower, even if it was to a window on the lower level but at this moment, they had little choice but to act. Their pursuers would soon discern that there were not many places they could hide.

Arwen tied the end of the rope around a stone gargoyle perched at the edge of the tower and tested the strength of the knot. It appeared as if it would hold although she wished she could be more certain of that fact when it she was gambling with her friends lives on its strength. Once secured, she turned to her companions again.

"Eowyn, you will go first," Arwen spoke into tones that did not sound like a request but rather an order. "Secure this around your waist. The rest of us will lower you down."

Eowyn gave her a dubious glance as she took the rope and tied it around herself, appearing less than confidence that this entire enterprise would not see her dashed to the ground in a gruesome end. "I hope you are certain about this."

"Think of it this way," Melia joked. "If she is mistaken, you will be the first among us to find out."

*************

Eowyn had gone first, protesting most of the way over the edge though none that were holding the rope could blame her for her trepidation. Even though the rope was tied securely around the gargoyle, the others held the rope and allowed her to be lowered off the roof for as far as it would take. Time crawled with the pacing of eternity as the weight tugged at the end of the rope, the further they allowed it to descent. Arwen was unaware that she was holding her breath until she felt two sharp tugs, which indicated that Eowyn had reached the ledge of the library window safely.

Lothiriel was unafraid to voice her concerns as she secured the rope around her waist but she was conditioned to obey her superiors and the queen certainly fell under that category. Trembling like a leaf in the wind as she was released into windy void beyond the edge of the roof, she clutched the rope so tightly in her hands that Arwen could see her knuckles turning white. Her outright terror did not escape either the queen or the lady of Eden Ardhon and while they felt for her plight, they could not allow her to avoid it. Once she was however lowered, she bore it silently and inspired the admiration of her companions by keeping calm during the nerve wracking ordeal.

"You should go first," Melia instructed Arwen.

"This was my idea," Arwen declared firmly. "You have risked yourselves enough for me on this occasion and more often then I can count. Do not argue with me on this matter Melia, I wish you to go first."

"They are close Arwen," Melia protested, aware that the shuddering sound of wood breaking a short time ago was their pursuers breaking through one of the barricades Melia had put in their way during the journey here.

"I know," Arwen nodded. "That is why you must go now."

Melia could offer no other argument and there was not enough time for a protracted debate. Thus she did the only thing she could, she obeyed.

Arwen lowered Melia in the same way that she had done to Lothiriel and Eowyn, ignoring the pain of the rope as it burned into her skin from the weight she was required to carry alone. For what seemed longer than ever before, she carefully lowered the ranger down the length of the tower, her heart pounding in anticipation of the signal that would tell her that Melia had crossed the distance safely. The sounds of breaking wood and excited voices were becoming louder in the background and Arwen realized that she would be very lucky indeed if she could make the same journey before the soldiers reached the roof.

As if in answer to her quandary, she felt the weight at the end of the rope slackened, followed by two sharp pulls. Arwen let out a sigh of relief and pulled the rope up towards her again. As soon as she had its end in her hands, she tied it around herself securely and went to the ledge. Until she found herself at the edge of the periphery, did she realize what a long way it was to the ground. She chided herself for doing so because it served no purpose other than to make her more nervous then she already was. Pulling the rope tight, she stepped over the edge and descended.

The wind whipped at her mercilessly but even as she began the downward climb, she heard the shattering of wood that was the door to the roof. She moved faster than she thought possibly, hoping to make good distance before they discovered her. Her arms ached from the exertion, gravity pulling against muscle and grip to drag her into oblivion. She did not remember this task being so arduous and supposed that several centuries could temper the experience somewhat.

"Arwen!" She looked up and heard Aragorn’s voice.

She was almost to the window where the others were waiting for her anxiously. They were nearly close enough to touch but when she heard Aragorn’s voice, she knew that they might as well have been ten thousand leagues away. She saw Aragorn barking orders at his men and that they were pulling the rope upwards, dragging her to him. If she fell into his hands, she would lose him forever and Middle earth would fall under the shadow of new Dark Age, almost as terrible as the one might have ensued if Sauron had taken back the Master Ring.

She could not allow that to happen.

"Melia!" Arwen looked down at the ranger.

Their eyes met and in that split second of time, Melia understood what it was her queen was asking of her. Her first thought was to refuse, her second to gaze down at the height they would be risking with the gamble Arwen would have her make.

"Lothiriel, Eowyn," Melia swallowed thickly, "hold onto my legs."

It took Eowyn a second to realize what she intended. "ARE YOU INSANE?"

"Yes," Melia nodded, too numb to offer any other response. She pushed herself out as far over the ledge of the window as she could, with Eowyn and Lothiriel maintaining a secure grip on her.

"Arwen! Now!" She cried out, allowing herself no time to prepare mainly because there was no preparing for something like this and if she failed, it would most likely kill them both.

Arwen sucked in her breath and whispered to herself, "what I am enduring for this man!"

Then she let go.

There was a rush of air and her own screams filled her ears as she plunged downward, stark horror coursing through her. Panic rushed up from inside her being and consumed her whole in the terrifying seconds that followed her release of the rope. She did not know how long she fell but when she felt arms making a powerful grab for her body, it felt like it was forever. The velocity of her drop tore her out of Melia’s reach and there was a moment of blind terror when she thought that their gambit had failed, that she was going to fall and die without saving her husband or her son. However, that moment passed swiftly when hand clenched around her wrist with stubborn refusal to let her go.

Arwen stared upwards and saw Melia almost hanging out of the window, her face strained with effort as she maintained her hold of Arwen’s wrist.

"Hold on!" she cried out and tried to extend her other hand towards Arwen.

Using all the strength that she possessed, the queen of Gondor forced herself to reach the outstretched hand, fighting the weight of her own body as her muscles screamed for relief at the torturous burden. Their fingers met readily enough and Melia closed her hand around Arwen’s getting a firmer grip as Lothiriel and Eowyn dragged them both to safety. It was difficult to say who was more ravaged by the experience, Arwen for dangling off the edge of disaster like a meat on a hook or Melia at the unimaginable possibility of allowing her to fall by failing her queen.

For a few seconds after the ordeal had passed, the four women could only lay there, breathing hard and thanking whatever deities were appropriate for the occasion at their continued survival.

Eowyn spoke first, allowing her gaze to sweep over her companions before stating, "Arwen, the next time you invite Faramir and I to a celebration at the palace, you will forgive me if I decline."

Part Six:
Hidden Talents  

The library had seen better years.

For a time, it had been the favored refuge of Denethor’s youngest son, providing him sanctuary when he required solace from the emotional wounds inflicted upon him by his father. It was in this place, that Faramir, briefly Steward of Gondor and presently Prince of Ithilien, had discovered the world was more than the White City and the knowledge of the ages could aid him in his journey to manhood. It was the place he told Eowyn, where he had come to dream and to hope that someday he would be a man worthy of Denethor’s affection.

In his absence, the library had been forgotten by most of the occupants of the White Tower. Denethor was a learned man but had the books most valued to him; moved to the treasury for he had his own agenda to fulfil and he did not wish to share it. Since Faramir’s departure, the library had been mostly ignored and the new king had greater matters to deal with then the restoration of one section of his household. Covered with a thick veneer of dust and filled with the musty smell of old books, the beam of light entering the room through the window illuminated the fine particles in the air and made it appear as if fireflies had taken up residence within its confines.

The four women took their rest in silence following their spectacular arrival into the library, listening to the whistle of wind outside the window and their own slowing breaths. Each were trying to gain some balance after being understandably shaken following their encounter with Aragorn and Legolas, not to mention escaping the relentless pursuit by their enemies. Arwen found her gazed fixed on Eowyn, who appeared to have endured the worst of this chase, having found herself pitted against Aragorn in combat. Arwen wondered if Eowyn knew how fortunate she was to have survived the encounter.

Melia did not speak much about her confrontation with Legolas but the anguish in her eyes was unmistakable. Arwen suspected that a small part of Melia had been clinging to the hope that this was all a terrible mistake, that Legolas was not stolen from her in this terrible manner. Until she faced the prince herself and saw that he was indeed enchanted, Melia had not truly believed. Unfortunately, the prince’s actions during that encounter left no further doubt in Melia’s mind and it told greatly by the sorrow Arwen saw in her eyes.

"We cannot linger here long," Arwen finally broke the silence in their darkened surroundings. It was not safe to lit the room for it would be a clear indicator of their occupancy. "It will not take them long to discern where we have gone."

"I know," Eowyn nodded as she tried to conceal the pain she felt, each time she made any movement. The grinding of broken ribs against each other brought a wave of nausea to the pit of her stomach that was making it harder and harder to keep from gagging in disgust.

"Let me look," Melia scrambled across the floor they were seated on, towards her.

"I will be fine," Eowyn returned bravely but all those present could see that she was not.

"I cannot believe the king did that to you," Lothiriel shook her head, clearly disturbed by Aragorn’s behavior though it should not have been a surprise. "He seemed so nice at the feast when my father and I first arrived," she added, thinking that night felt as if it were years in the past at the moment.

"It is not him," Arwen said quickly, bound to defend her king even though she was wrestling with her own shock at what he had done, "it is the spell."

"I think we need to leave the palace," Melia remarked as she examined the bruising on Eowyn’s side. "Eowyn needs to recover. I am certain that she has broken some ribs."

"I will manage," Eowyn insisted, though she knew her efforts to be brave were seen through clearly.

"I have no doubt that you will try," Arwen said warmly, "but you must allow yourself to heal if you are to be of any use to us in freeing the men from this enchantment."

Eowyn frowned unhappily at Arwen’s words but she could not deny them. The queen was right, in Eowyn’s present state, she was a liability to them. Eowyn was too experienced a warrior to be able to fly in the face of this truth. Unfortunately, the realization did not assuage her guilt at being a hindrance to her friends in this crucial hour.

"I dislike it immensely when you are right," she frowned.

"Especially when it occurs so often," Melia quipped in an effort to break the tension at this unhappy understanding of their situation.

"Quiet you," Arwen threw the former ranger a good-natured warning.

Her notice however, soon shifted to Lothiriel who appeared more shaken then the rest of the company in light of what they had just endured. Arwen found herself remembering that Lothiriel had little experience with her life being placed in such peril and under the circumstances, the young woman had held up admirably under the strain. Still, it did appear as if cracks were beginning to form in her fortitude.

"Lothiriel," Arwen turned to Lothiriel who was wearing a worried expression of her face as her eyes darted around their surroundings, reacting to any sound or movement that captured her attention. Arwen’s call brought her gaze towards the queen and her frightened expression lingered still.

"Are you alright?" Arwen asked gently.

"Yes," Lothiriel nodded a little too quickly. "This is all very overwhelming. I have never been in the danger I have seen today and the thought that my father and the king are now under the spell of some skin changer, frightens me more than I say."

"You have kept your wits about you nonetheless," Melia said encouragingly, "that is nothing to be ashamed of."

"Precisely," Arwen added her voice to the show of support to further empower Lothiriel to believe in herself and her ability to endure. "We will think of someway to free our loved ones, be assured of that."

"Do you know what sort of spell it is?" Lothiriel asked after a moment, feeling the boost in her own confidence at the encouraging words of those around her.

"No," Arwen shook her head. "It is no doubt an ancient one and powerful for I have seen these skin changers once attempting to bring back Morgoth from the void."

"Are they the kind of conjurers who are able to simply speak a spell to make it work as the Maiar are able or are they lesser mages that require words or hand gestures?"

Arwen looked at the girl, rather surprised by the intelligence behind the question and considered her answer carefully before she answered. When she had been at Nargothrond and the shape shifters had attempted to infuse her unborn babe with Morgoth’s spirit; they had used a chant to make their spell of darkness come alive.

"Words," Arwen answered looking Lothiriel in the eye, curious as to what the young woman would do with that information.

"Words," Lothiriel absorbed quietly and then remarked, almost without being aware of her speaking it. "That is fortunate for that means they are not as powerful as we think. Were there able to cast spells by thought alone, there is no way we could defeat them unless one of the Istari was present. Mages who used word spells are dangerous but not invincible. We must find the exact spell, for this kind of conjuring usually requires some form of catalyst. Spells that seek to tamper with the mind such as the one cast over the king and all the leaders of the Middle earth cannot simply be spoken. It is extremely difficult to affect the power of will with worlds alone, there must be some agent in place that allow the spell to reach its end. It must be something close to the body, something that can be worn against the skin, like a bracelet, a pendant or even a ring. Isildur’s Bane was said to have such power over mind."

When Lothiriel did not receive an answer from the others, she looked up in question and found that the eyes of the queen, the ladies of Ithilien and Eden Ardhon were fixed upon her in unhidden amazement.

"Lady Lothiriel of Dol Amroth," Melia spoke first, "I believe there is something you need to tell us about how you know so much about magic."

Lothiriel swallowed anxiously, afraid of how they would react if she should reveal the truth but then realized that this was a rather a moot point after ruminating out loud for all to hear. "You will not tell my father? He would be most upset if he learns I spoke of this outside the family."

"I think at this point, you have little to worry about," Eowyn declared with a grunt as she reacted to Melia’s efforts to bind her ribs with what material they had at hand.

"I want to be a wizard," Lothiriel confessed. "I have studied magic and sorcery all my life and I think I can be a good one if only I had the instruction of an Istar. I wanted to go Isengard to learn under the tutelage of the mages left there by the Grey Pilgrim but my father does not understand. He says that I do not have the skill but I know I do, it is just that the spells I perform do not always appear as intended."

"What do you mean do not appear as intended?" Arwen asked suspiciously.

"Well there was one instance where I attempted to make the flowers in my mother’s garden grow and that is what happened except….,"Lothiriel’s voice drifted off in correspondence to rising flush of red in her cheeks.

"Except?" Eowyn prompted.

"It would not stop," the young woman replied embarrassed. "Half the garden was overtaken in rose bushes in a matter of seconds. My father was most displeased."

"Well I think I understand why he is so eager to marry you off," Melia chuckled.

"I told Lord Eomer," Lothiriel quickly added, not wishing to have Eowyn in particular believing that she had sought to deceive any one. "The night before all this happened, I told him why my father was so insistent on this marriage."

"What did my brother have to say?" Eowyn asked, not believing that this sweet if somewhat interesting young lady was deceitful, even if her tastes were unusual. However, considering that Eowyn had once garbed herself as a member of the Rohirrim and matched to Gondor to fight at Pelennor, she was in no position to point fingers at what was inappropriate behavior.

"He was very nice about it," Lothiriel found herself saying with a little smile, remembering how amused Eomer had been and how completely unexpected his reaction had been. She had thought that he would rebuke her for her eccentricities but instead he had taken it with a grain of salt and said nothing that would hurt her feelings.

"He is unfailing sweet when he wants to be," Eowyn replied, taking careful note of the luster in Lothiriel’s eyes when she spoke of Eomer. The lady of Ithilien understood at that instance perhaps this union that Imrahil craved might not be as unaccepted to Lothiriel or Eomer as either would have previously believed.

"Lothiriel," Arwen interrupted because they had more important issues to discuss now that Lothiriel had made known her hidden talents. Even if the girl was inexperienced, she knew more than her companions combined about the casting of spells and right now, it was knowledge they needed desperately. "You said that the spell cast over the men required an agent, what did you mean?"

Lothiriel turned to the queen, recognizing the need in Arwen’s voice and thinking quickly of her answer. "Isildur’s Bane was able to affect the minds of those who wore it began it was close to the skin, I think what enchantment has befallen my father and the others is similar. There must be something that make it possible for the spell to do its work, however, I do not think it is a ring or something worn on the body in this case."

"I agree," Arwen nodded. "Whatever it was, it would have to be capable of taking over all of them at once and quickly. Legolas would have sensed the clouding of his companions’ minds almost instantly, even if he could not detect the shape shifters themselves. Unfortunately, they know how to hide from elves, that I can assure you."

"Unless they took him first," Melia pointed out.

"I doubt it," Eowyn shook her head. "They would have taken Aragorn first. He is the most important and the most useful to them. Legolas may be the Prince of Mirkwood and Eden Ardhon but he is an elf and the power of the Eldar in this time is waning. It is advantageous both politically and strategically to gain control of the king."

"Then what could have taken them all at once?" Arwen asked. "I knew the exact moment when he was taken from me and that was while they were signing the treaty. How could it have happened when they were all present in each other’s company?"

"At the treaty?" Lothiriel’s awakened with possibilities. "You are certain of this?"

"Yes," Arwen stared at the young woman, seeing the glimmer in her eyes. "Why?"

"What if they had already signed the treaty?" She asked.

"I do not understand," Melia remarked, uncertain what Lothiriel was alluding to. "What difference does it make if the treaty was signed? Ulfrain had no intention of honoring."

"Honor is precisely what happened," Lothiriel declared, "what would have happened immediately after they signed the treaty, how could they have shared the importance of such a momentous occasion?

"Elbereth!" Eowyn exclaimed, "they would have toasted the treaty."

"With a drink," the lady of Dol Amroth concluded with some measure of satisfaction. "It was in the wine or whatever it was they were drinking. A skin changer would have little difficult tainting the flask or each goblet before the serving. It is fast and would take them all at once."

"They were poisoned!" Arwen hissed, feeling her stomach knotting in disgust. "A toast to celebrate the occasion indeed! It was nothing but a ruse to enslave their minds. We must do something! Lothiriel, what can we do?"

Lothiriel drew in her breath, "I am not certain. Remember that I have only read of such things. Circumventing such spells is another thing entirely and I was never very good at spell casting."

"You are all that we have," Arwen said reaching for her arm. "We have no other alternative. Pallando is many days away at the earliest and we cannot let our loved ones leave Gondor the way they are, we cannot let them return home as the creatures of skin changers."

"You wished to know if you can be a wizard Lothiriel," Eowyn added, able to see how anxious Lothiriel was about being in such a position. She was scared and Eowyn could not blame her but like Arwen, Eowyn knew they had no choice. She was all that they had. "This is your chance to prove not only to your father but to yourself whether you can be all that you wish."

Lothiriel did not wish to deny their cry of health because she did not want her father to be under the spell of skin changers any more than they but she was afraid. She was afraid because this time, the stakes were simply to high to suffer failure.

"I will do what I can," Lothiriel finally relented. "If it all possible for me to break this spell I will do my best to see it done."

"I know you will," Arwen smiled. "Let us leave here and find some place safer where we can discuss what you are going to need."

************

Fortunately, while Arwen had seldom visited this part of the castle, Eowyn knew it well. Whenever she and Faramir came to stay in the White City, the former prince of Gondor would give her a tour of all his favorite places in the palace when he had lived here under Denethor’s rule. One of his favorite places was the library and Eowyn surmised that he was grateful that Aragorn had done nothing to alter it in any way. It was the wish of anyone who wanted to maintain the illusion of their childhood sanctuary, even if remaining as it were meant allowing it to deteriorate considerably.

Eowyn remember how much delight he had taken in showing her the library, even in its dilapidated state. He had explained with great fondness how he would sit at the windowsill, staring out into the vastness of the world beyond Minas Tirith, dreaming of things that only little boys with lofty ambitions could imagine. It was the place that gave comfort following the death of his mother when his father’s arms had grown cold, save for Boromir. During its years as his refuge, Faramir had learned everything about the library. His knowledge extended beyond the books on the shelf and extended to every nook and cranny in the place, including some lesser-known features that had become forgotten over the years.

"Keep trying," Eowyn insisted as she sat on the floor, facing a world at the far end of the library.

Before her, Arwen, Melia and Lothiriel were systematically pulling every book out of the shelves, not an easy task when the length of the shelf took up almost the entire wall. It was the only shelf built in this manner for a very specific reason, though Eowyn was certain that reason would drive her companions to revolt before they discovered it.

"Are you certain of this?" Arwen looked over her shoulder, wrinkling her nose in disgust as the dust that was covering her from this labor.

"He showed it to me," Eowyn insisted. "I saw it open."

"Pity you could not remember which one it was," Melia grumbled, wiping the sweat from her face.

"It was almost two years ago and what need did I have to remember it?" Eowyn retorted. "Besides, be grateful that I remember it at all. Faramir discovered it himself by accident, it was apparently installed during the time of the Steward Cirion. Cirion had been plagued by wars and before he beseeched Eorl to aid him where he gifted him with Calenardhon, there was real fear that the White City could fall. I would not be surprised if there are many such passages installed during that time, to guard against the eventuality of the White Tower coming under siege."

"It would be much simpler if we could simply pull out all the books at once," Lothiriel commented.

"You could," Eowyn added. "However, when the guards arrive here and their search will inevitably bring them here, we do not wish for them to know how we escaped and even if they do notice our tracks in the dust, they will have a difficult time trying to discern which book it was."

"Do you not hate it when she is terribly reasonable?" Melia replied and continued to pull the books out of the shelves and upon discovering nothing, replaced it.

Lothiriel did not answer, choosing to resume her efforts when suddenly a loud creaking sound was heard and the three women stepped away from the wall instinctively. Arwen held the book in her hand as the shelf suddenly came away from the wall, moving on a pivot that was activated by the mechanism attached to the book. A doorway awaited them behind the wood and the musty smell that emanated from it indicated that it was probably the first breath of fresh air it had received in quite some time.

"I do not believe it," Melia said impressed. "There is a secret passage after all."

"Let us not waste any time then," Arwen prompted them into moving. "Melia bring that torch with you, we can use it to light our way through the darkness. Once inside the passage, we have no fear that anyone will see the light. Lothiriel, help me with Eowyn."

"I am no invalid," Eowyn retorted but winced in pain when she attempted to stand.

"I am sure," Arwen rolled her eyes as she replaced the book in the shelf once again.

The company entered the passageway that stank of stagnant air and dust. Melia waited until the shelf had closed behind them before she lit the torch with the meager supplies she had managed to acquire shortly after their flight had begun. Once the torch was burning, they were better able to see the passage into which they had entered. The stairs were made from brick and rather crude in its construction. It was also winding and narrow but it served its purpose well enough and none of them were about to complain if it afforded them a way through the palace that did not require being hunted by every guard in the Citadel.

"Where does this lead?" Arwen asked as they began descending the dimly lit passageway.

"Beyond the ramparts surrounding the White Tower, Faramir claims," Eowyn replied, thinking it ironic that despite his enchantment, he was still capable of coming to her aid in time of need. "Most likely to ensure that those using this route to flee would be able to leave the White Tower beyond the enemy lines."

"That would make sense and it aids us considerably, for we can use it again when we need to re-enter the palace." Melia added.

"So we are not completely abandoning our plan of capturing one of the men?" Eowyn asked, looking in Arwen’s direction.

"No we are not," the queen replied firmly. "We are merely delayed for the moment while we regroup and dress our wounds from this latest encounter. Lothiriel, can you break the enchantment that binds them?"

Lothiriel had been considering the question deeply ever since Arwen had asked her help in these matters.

Despite her anxiety at failing her queen, she knew she had no choice but to try. She was the only one at hand who understood the magic required to free her father and the rest of Middle earth’s leaders.

"The difficulty lies in discerning which spell has been used upon them," Lothiriel explained cautiously. It was not easy to speak about things she had spent her whole life hiding from everyone and the exposure was rather uncomfortable, even in the company of friends. "If the agent were something worn, it would be a simple matter of removing it but since it has been ingested, that is a different matter entirely."

"But it can be broken? Melia asked hopefully, unable to stomach the fact that her Prince could be a servant of a shape shifter for all time.

"There are two ways in which it could be," Lothiriel replied after a pause where she thought quickly about the question. "We must remove the poison inside their bodies or find some way to circumvent its effects. Failing that, there is another alternative," she faltered, finding it distasteful to even speak of such things but supposed that this was hardly the time to be squeamish.

"What alternative?" Eowyn inquired.

"We find the shape shifter casting the spell and kill it."

The statement should not have surprised them because in the minds of all but the speaker, killing was always going to be something they would have to do. However, hearing Lothiriel say it was a little disconcerting.

"It could be any one of them," Arwen sighed after a moment. "At this time, we do not even know Ulfrain, Castigliari and Akallabeth are skin changers or humans. We would have to confront each of them to find out and even then we could be wrong."

"Still, strategically I would say it would be one of these three," Eowyn reminded. "It places them closest to their intended targets."

"True," Melia agreed with her assertion but also had one of her own, "however, they entered the palace with a large entourage. It could be said that strategically, the spell caster might have taken a more background role in order to protect their identity when the nature of the spell was uncovered."

"It does not matter," Arwen interrupted the debate, "we will focus our efforts on restoring the men by finding a cure to the poison inside them. Attempting to find out who cast the spell when our prey are skin changers will be next to impossible and we do not have that much time. We must endeavor to free them soon before the celebrations are ended and the leaders of Middle earth are required to return home to their lands."

"For that, we will need one of them," Lothiriel offered reluctantly.

"That much fortunately," Melia replied as she brushed a strand of cobweb out of her way, "we discerned ourselves already."

"That is why we were in the palace when we encountered you," Eowyn explained, starting to feel a little stronger, though not much and did not require as much aid to walk down the treacherous looking stairs. "We were intending to reach Eomer."

"Eomer?" Lothiriel exclaimed with a little more interest then she would have preferred to show.

The three women smiled to themselves, having no wish to embarrass the girl with what was obviously growing affection for the King of the Mark, and chose to refrain from making comment to her reaction.

"We believe he would be the one easiest to reach," Arwen responded. "Aragorn would be carefully watched and protected, not merely by the shape shifters but also by the royal guards. He is the king after all. Faramir and Imrahil would be equally difficult to reach as they are Gondorians with legitimate claim to the rule of the kingdom. Legolas and Gimli do not have the influence had the Prince cannot be approached in the usual manner, not without him sensing our approach."

It did not matter whom they chose as long as she could remove the spell.

"Can we reach him?" Lothiriel inquired, not at all relishing the possibility of roaming through the palace again, not after the pursuit that had seen them driven into this darkness.

"I do not know,’ Arwen confessed, wishing she had something more definitive than that to offer the girl.

"If we can remain out of sight long enough," Eowyn mused, "perhaps they will cease looking for us tonight. After all, the king has guests to contend with and the added challenge of maintaining his hunt of us without the rest of Gondor knowing why."

"I would not be surprised if they returned to the festivities actually," Melia shrugged. "Aragorn at least would know that he caused Eowyn enough hurt for her to require tending. We have shown no visible means of strategy for him to believe we are a threat to him. It is only our continued freedom that is a danger, not anything we have been doing."

Arwen considered Melia’s words and realized that the lady of Eden Ardhon was right. They were hardly a threat to the enemy or to Aragorn at this point, merely a nuisance, even with what they knew. "The banquet will well and truly be underway by this time of night," Arwen remarked as she thought what was to be done.

"I wonder how they explained our absence," Eowyn wondered out loud.

"With shape shifters, they may not need to," Arwen pointed out.

"Wonderful," Melia groaned. "We cannot even sneak into the banquet as ourselves and somehow, I do not think that any of us will pass for serving girls."

Something shifted into being within Arwen’s mind and an idea began to take shape in a flash of inspiration. It was insane and dangerous but it could work and what was more, it was the only chance they had of acquiring the subject Lothiriel needed to perform her spell of unmaking.

"I have an idea," she announced looking at Melia.

************

Once they had emerged past the ramparts surrounding the White Tower, it was an easy matter to find themselves a temporary refuge where Eowyn’s wounds could be tended to without fear of discovery by guards or shape shifters for that matter. Ironically enough, they had chosen an empty guard house for this purpose since most of the soldiers were either enjoying the festivities or stationed around the White Tower in an effort to capture them as well as protecting the king while the Easterling forces were in Minas Tirith. There was little that could be done for Eowyn other than to reinforced the bindings on her cracked ribs and treat the bruises she had incurred from Aragorn during their battle. Fortunately, they could afford to rest for a few hours because Arwen’s plans would achieve their fullest effect when the banquet was drawing to a close.

Lothiriel and Melia had left the company for a time, needing to acquire a few ingredients if Lothiriel was going to attempt to counter the spell that had so many of their loved ones in its power. With the celebrating being heard from every corner of the city and so many people out in force, it was an easy matter for the two women to leave the Citadel and enter the rest of Minas Tirith to acquire what they needed. Arwen remained with Eowyn, despite the lady’s declarations she needed no one to watch her. Arwen had no doubt that when it was time to put their plan into action, Eowyn would be on her feet to take her place at their side or die trying.

In the meantime, Arwen took some rest of her own, trying not think about the desperate circumstances that she and her companions were embroiled. Inevitably however, her mind would return to the fate of Eldarion and her hopes that Nunaur had managed to spirit him safely out of his father’s reach. It was almost obscene to Arwen that she would have to hide her son from Estel when he had proven himself time and time again, what an adoring father he was. She knew that it was only a spell that would have allow him to hurt Eldarion and she had no wish for him to wake up to that hell when this sad affair was behind them. It was bad enough that he would be mortified by what he had done to Eowyn, let alone how he would suffer if he discovered he had brought harm to his own son.

"I do not want to see Faramir until this is all over," Eowyn suddenly spoke.

Arwen looked across the floor at Eowyn was stretched out on the empty cot adjacent to her own. The shield maiden of Rohan had spoken very little in the last hour as both of them took comfort with their thoughts and allowed the events of the day to catch up with them. Eowyn’s eyes met hers and Arwen saw the fear she had so far managed to conceal from her companions, surfacing in all its ferocity.

"I cannot make you that promise," Arwen said softly, wishing she could.

"I know," Eowyn conceded her queen that much for not a great deal was within Arwen’s power to grant at this time, though she knew if it were possible that the elf would try to see it done. "I fear seeing him and how it would effect. I saw Melia was when she was forced to face Legolas. She was able to remain strong despite her feelings for him."

"And you fear that if you see Faramir, you will not?" Arwen ventured a guess.

"I do not know that I can fight if we are placed in such a position," Eowyn answered honestly. "How do you prevail after facing Aragorn?"

Arwen drew in a breath and steadied herself because there was a tidal wave of emotion inside her that craved expression and had been building since she first saw Estel and realized that he was no longer her king. There was a part of her that was almost as afraid as Eowyn, that perhaps Lothiriel may not be able to break the spell over him and that the stranger in his place would be all there was left of Aragorn Elessar. If he was dead, she could at least mourn him but taking him away from her in this manner would leave a wound that would bleed until the day she died.

"I prevail the best I can," she whispered softly. "I felt him slip away you know. The moment the spell tore Estel away from me, I felt it. I felt the threads between us sever, one by one. It was a terrible feeling and now there is nothing but an emptiness where he used to be."

"I do not think I could endure such a void in my heart," Eowyn answered after a moment, shaken by the intense grief she detected in Arwen’s voice and understood how fragile was the veneer between control and collapse for the queen. "I never thought I could love after Pelennor but he was such a surprise and he still continues to be, this warrior with the heart of scholar."

Arwen knew about Eowyn’s love for Aragorn though they never spoke of it. In the beginning of their relationship, it had proved to be a formidable obstacle to their friendship. If Eowyn had asked, she would have been surprised to know that Arwen was more sympathetic of her feelings than she would have given the queen credit. After all, Arwen herself adored Aragorn, why should not another woman feel the same? However, Aragorn was too trustworthy for Arwen to doubt his feelings for her and he had tried not to hurt Eowyn’s feelings as best he could although in such affairs, there was always bound to be one party whose heart would be broken.

Fortunately, the outcome at Pelennor Fields had seen to it that Eowyn and Faramir were brought together and for the two, it was a fortunate meeting for they were very much suited for another. Both were so wounded by loss that they were able to find healing and love in each other’s company. At present, one could never think that Eowyn had loved anyone else by the sparkle in her eyes whenever she looked upon Faramir.

"Eowyn," Arwen found herself compelled to speak. "We must face the possibility that the enemy will use our love for our husbands against us. Even Lothiriel is no longer invulnerable to this."

"Yes," Eowyn nodded in agreement on that point. "I saw how she looked when Eomer’s name was mentioned."

"Do you think that she is in love with him?" Arwen inquired because she, herself was uncertain, though she did not the affection emerging in the young woman’s heart for the King of the Mark.

"If this had not happened, I would say that it was most likely that she could have loved him, if she did not already. I know he was very taken with her but he was afraid."

"Because of this business of arranged marriages?" The queen asked.

"My brother did not want this girl to feel that she was obligated to wed him because of her father’s desires," Eowyn explained. "He had rather hoped that she would like him for himself, not out of duty."

"This entire affair came at very unfortunate time," Arwen frowned, not merely because of the overall plan of subterfuge over the leaders of Gondor but at the interference of the budding relationship between Eomer and Lothiriel.

"To say the least," Eowyn shook her head. "I do not like this business of her being forced to marry him any more than you, even if is the nature of the things among noble families. When I was at Theoden’s court, I was almost in danger of being wedded to Saruman’s lackey. Certainly, he desired me enough to force the issue if he had been allowed the time to poison the king’s mind further. Fortunately for me, the Grey Pilgrim ended his reign at Meduseld and I saw spared that horror. Until this day, I do not know what I would have done if Theoden had given me to him."

"Knowing you, the Wormtongue would have reason to regret it," Arwen replied.

Eowyn did not appear as certain and took a few seconds before she responded, "I do not know. I am what I am but I was also a loyal sister daughter of Theoden and I cannot say that I would have defied him. In any case, Eomer would have ensured I never had to make that choice, even at the risk to himself. That is why it is so hard for him to accept Lothiriel under such circumstances."

"He does not want to be like Wormtongue," the queen guessed accurately.

"No he does not," Eowyn replied with a little smile. "And I love all the more for it."

**************

Lothiriel and Melia returned not long after this, having acquired the items the young lady of Dol Amroth needed for their spell. It was decided that they would enter the palace once more through the library, since it appeared the most expedient way into the White Tower and Arwen had to assume that their pursuers would not imagine they would take the same route to make another into the court of Telecontari. Despite this seemingly easy entry into the palace, none of them were mistaken about the danger involved in this plan. Eowyn had insisted to accompany them even though she was far from mended but the lady of Ithilien was far too stubborn to wait in safety while others risked themselves for her.

Thus at the height of the evening, shortly before midnight, the women set out from their refuge once again, prepared to pit themselves against the darkness that encompassed the White Tower. The celebration as anticipated, was still going strong, with no signs of abating. Arwen who was becoming accustomed to such occasions since she had taken her place as Queen of Gondor, knew that the revelry could continue well until dawn and was grateful this in the event they needed to make a swift escape. The stables were relatively silent at this time of night and Arwen decided that would be the best place for Lothriel to conduct her spell to break the enchantment.

Arwen’s elven senses were capable of telling her that no one was lying in wait to ambush them, when the four women returned to the library. As an added measure, they had stolen some of the clothes they had found in the guardhouse and disguised themselves as best they could. Fortunately, no one would be paying too close attention when they finally emerged from the library. The only one who could not be disguised in this manner was Melia. Due to her obviously different racial background, she could not pass for a Gondorian and chose to forego the effort of a disguise.

Taking the passages frequented by servants, they made their way into the guest wing where the Easterling entourage was in residence. Wandering into the heart of what was enemy territory was dangerous to say the least but they had little choice in the matter. For the subject to be delivered into their hands, they needed a suitable disguise that would allow them to get close enough to him to manage this minor miracle and unfortunately, it was not a disguise that would be served by a guard’s uniform.

"Why does it have to be me?" Melia grumbled once they had slipped into rooms inhabited by the Easterling dancers during their stay in the White Tower. Fortunately, the dancers were out entertaining the guests at the banquet and would not interrupt them while they did what was necessary.

"Because you are an Easterling," Arwen said impatiently as she helped Melia into the brightly colored though somewhat revealing costume.

"Behind a veil who could tell?" The ranger snorted in dislike as she pinned the dreaded garment in place across her face. The gossamer like fabric fluttered slightly when she spoke and only offered a faint outline of her jaw and little else.

"The rest of you is not behind a veil," the queen added. "Unfortunately, the two of us do not have the coloring required to maintain such a deception and Lothiriel is needed to prepare her spell."

"Besides you are a Ranger, blending in should be easy, even in that costume," Eowyn declared from where she was at the door, keeping watch that they were not discovered. "My bruises will raise questions and Arwen has a face any man would be able to tell from a thousand leagues away."

"Thank you," Arwen cast the shield maiden a look as Melia continued to dress making certain that they knew her displeasure. "I think."

"Oh wonderful," Melia complained further as she examined herself in the mirror and felt like she was transported back in time to the days when she was required to dress like this. She had gratefully left this aspect of her life behind in the Sunlands, with no regrets at all. The fact that she was forced to dress like this again raised her ire to no end. "It is indecent to be this exposed! I did not like dressing this way when I was growing up and I like it even less here. Why cannot we just hit him over the head and drag him away?"

"Because," Eowyn said sweetly, "that would be difficult to go unnoticed in a room full of guests, including the king, my husband and no doubt a large number of shape shifters who are no doubt in the palace by now."

"I do this under strong protest," Melia frowned supposing that there was no other alternative. This was the best way to catch their prey. Alone, he was vulnerable.

"I do not know why," Eowyn returned. "You did not have this much difficulty when you were attempting to seduce that Uruk Hai in Nargothrond, I assumed distracting him would be simpler."

"I am a Ranger, ask me to shoot a boar or die in the service of my queen and I would be happy to do so, flirting with a Rohirrim lord is above and beyond the call of duty."

"Varda give me strength!" Arwen hissed. "Melia you know what is at stake here…."

"I know, I know," the ranger threw her hands up in a gesture of defeat on this subject. "It has to be this way but if he is ever freed from this spell, I honestly do not know which of us will be more embarrassed."

"Over the spell or what you are wearing?" Eowyn teased.

Arwen rolled her eyes and saw Lothiriel who did not feel quite brave enough to become caught in the banter between the two, giving her a rather sympathetic look. At the moment, Arwen could certainly use it.

***********

When Melia emerged into the banquet hall, she had never thought she could feel so alone in a room full of people. Her presence hardly raised a brow for her costume was very effective and she was one of many dancers that were scattered around the room, following the conclusion of the entertainment for the evening. As customary for this part of the evening, the guests had abandoned the formal seating around the tables and were mingling amongst themselves throughout the room. There was enough mead and strong spirits served to ensure that everyone was on their way to becoming extremely inebriated. She could see Gimli the dwarf engaging in this whole heatedly.

Musicians were playing cheerful tunes and inspiring some of the guests were dancing, while others were laughing in conversation and the mood of the evening was certainly descending into a debauchery. Others were watching the fireworks from the balcony and to the casual observer, it appeared nothing was amiss in White Tower. Melia wondered how many of the faces before her were truly guests of Gondor and not skin changers attempting to destroy Middle earth from within.

It did not take long for Melia to sight the king, for he was remained seated at the banquet table with his queen at his side. Melia was forced to hide how shaken she was at the sight of the skin changer that had assumed Arwen’s form. The king was reacting to the imposter in the same manner that Aragorn treated Arwen when his mind was still his own. The adoration in his eyes almost appeared real and affected Melia more deeply then anything she had seen since this whole situation had began. Beside the king and queen, the Easterling rulers kept a vigil on the floor and incited Melia to discontinue her staring.

She turned away after a moment, unable to stomach it when she saw that Arwen was not the only form the shape shifters had stolen. Next to Faramir, she saw the facsimile of Eowyn seated beside the Prince of Ithilien and was grateful that Legolas was absent. She did not think he could stomach it if she saw him with a copy of herself. Fortunately, the Prince was nowhere to be seen although she saw Imrahil in the gathering and Eomer was holding court with a number of minor nobles from the outer Gondorian lands.

Drawing in a deep breath for she did not wish to be here any longer than she should, Melia sauntered across the room, reminding herself how the women of her culture were meant to behave. No one paid her any heed since she did not appear to be all that different from the other dancers who were presently entertaining of the men in the banquet hall like courtesans instead of dancers. Melia frowned inwardly, supposing that it would serve her purpose in this instance to be counted as such.

**********

Legolas, Prince of Mirkwood and the lord of Eden Ardhon could sense his wife. Their souls were linked from the moment they had given themselves to each other in the physical expression of their love. He had remained in the suite of rooms, having no desire for celebration after she had wounded him during their encounter. A well of anger rose within him as he thought of her betrayal of his good friend Aragorn and wondered how he could have been so foolish to trust her. The Easterlings were right, he thought as he rose from his bed and limped to the door, to issue warning to the guards that his traitorous wife had returned to the palace.

Strange, he never used to think well of the Easterlings. He supposed meeting them face to face had changed his mind somewhat about their customs. When Melia had first told him about the peculiar habits of Easterling culture, he had found them reprehensible but he no longer felt that way. When Legolas attempted to pierce the reasoning that made him change his mind so drastically, he was confronted with a thick cloud of confusion that was difficult to penetrate. Suddenly, he felt as if he needed guidance, though he could not imagine why he would need such a thing to make up his mind on anything.

Shaking the puzzled emotions running through his brain, the prince focussed his thoughts on the fact that his wife was close by and this time he did not intend to let her slip away. She needed to be reminded that he was her lord and master and that her allegiance should be to him first, not the Evenstar. The Evenstar was not worthy of such loyalty, not after stealing Aragorn’s son with the intention of spiriting Gondor’s heir behind the walls of Imladris where the king would never again lay eyes upon his own child. Legolas felt ashamed that a member of his own race could be party to such treachery though he never thought the Evenstar was capable of such deceit prior to this.

It appeared he was deceived about a great number of things of late.

He pulled open the door, preparing to sound the alarm when suddenly, standing before him was none other than the Evenstar and the lady of Ithilien.

"Evenstar…," he started to say.

"Not a word old friend," Arwen’s blade was against his throat in a matter of seconds.

"You will not kill me," Legolas said defiantly, challenging her to make her move.

"I do not have to kill you to make you obey," she hissed and grabbed his injured leg before squeezing mercilessly.

Legolas cried out as the arrow wound inflicted by Melia made itself felt most fully. The injury was still fresh and the only reason that he was not in the House of Healing was because he did not think it serious enough to warrant a stay there when his own bed in the palace would suffice. Unfortunately, the pain coursing through his leg made him wish otherwise as he staggered backwards into the room with his unwanted guests slipping inside quickly before they were discovered.

"Arwen you are amazing," Eowyn replied with no small hint of admiration in her voice as she saw Arwen advancing upon the elven prince who was bracing himself against a chair from the queen’s ministrations. "I did not think it was possible to trick him."

"Trick me?" Legolas stared at her in question, his face contorted in pain as he made his demand.

"By sending Melia into the banquet hall, I ensured that you would sense her and not us," Arwen replied as Eowyn slipped past her and approached Legolas cautiously. Arwen kept her sword against his throat, ensuring that he did not attempt anything foolish as Eowyn prepared to gag him. "We needed a subject and since you were injured, I guessed that you would be here recuperating since your skin changer masters would undoubtedly prefer that you remain close by."

"Skin changers?" Legolas managed to say before a cloth was tied around his mouth, muffling anything else he might have said in reaction. The gag made him struggle but Arwen’s blade cutting into skin, made certain that whatever resistance he made was brief. It was not long before he was bound as well as gagged though neither woman could believe that he would make their escape form the palace any easier.

"He will not go quietly and we must move quickly if we are to get him out of here," Eowyn replied.

"I know," Arwen nodded and looked around. She saw a ewer and a goblet on a table and crossed the floor quickly to obtain the former. The ewer was heavy but not so solid that it could cause irreparable damage, though her estimation of this was uncertain at best. Without giving Legolas any warning, she smashed the ceramic object against the back of his neck and dropped him to the floor without further protest. The prince lay on the carpeted floor very much unconscious but infinitely more manageable than before.

"Let us go while we can," Arwen declared as she brushed her hands of the remaining fragments and leaned over to pick up the prince.

"I hope Melia’s part in all this is as smooth as this one," Eowyn remarked.

*************

Melia did not know how much time had passed but she prayed that it was enough for Arwen’s gambit to succeed. The need to depart the banquet hall was overwhelming and after fending off the intentions of a drunken Eomer and fighting her way through more than a dozen amorous suitors, Melia decided that enough time had lapsed and it was time for her to be going. Personally, it could not be soon enough for she detested this whole charade she was playing. However, if was the only way of reaching her Prince, Melia was compelled to try, no matter how much she loathed dressing up in this manner.

As anonymously as she swept through the banquet hall, Melia made her exit just as covertly. No one was looking closely at the dancers and the nature of the costume ensured that no one would be looking at her face either. It appeared as if she had successfully survived her part in the plan when she found herself leaving the door to the banquet hall behind her.

Suddenly out of nowhere, a hand clenched around her arm and halted Melia in her steps. Her breath caught and she looked up to find herself staring into the face of the Easterling general Castigliari.

"Lady Melia," he said quietly even though they were alone in the corridor, "I think it is time you and I had a talk."

Part Seven
Unmaking

Despite being unconscious, removing the Prince of Mirkwood from the confines of his room to the stables were Lothiriel awaited to begin her spell of unmaking was no easy feat. Unconscious, he was a dead weight in their arms and it was nearly impossible to move through the halls of the White Tower appearing inconspicuous. While they were dressed as palace guards, Arwen and Eowyn knew their disguise was fragile to say the least and could only succeed if no one paid to close attention to them. Unfortunately, it was difficult to maintain such anonymity when carrying an unconscious elf in their arms. Fortunately, it appeared that the guards on duty were keeping watch for four women, not two guards supposedly taking a drunken elf back to his suite.

Upon reaching the kitchens, they found that it was not as peopled as before since most of the meals for the banquet had been served and the servants and cooks were either in attendance at the great hall or had gone to enjoy the festivities themselves. It was just as well for neither Arwen nor Eowyn wished an audience as they descended into the sewer passages that would take them out of the palace, without further observation by even the unknowing onlooker. As they slowly descended into the dark and rancid depths, Arwen ensured while one hand was wrapped securely around Legolas, the other was resting on the hilt of the weapon. Thanks to the acuteness of elven senses, Arwen was certain that the instant the terrible smell of the sewer assaulted his senses, Legolas would be roused from his unconscious state.

"I am worried," Arwen declared as they found themselves surrounded by darkness and the fetid stench of their filthy surroundings.

She could not see Eowyn’s face clearly but Arwen saw the lady of Ithilien nod slightly, "Melia should have joined us by now."

"Do you think she has been captured?" Arwen asked fearfully as they carefully navigated the narrow walkway, avoiding the canal of rancid water that flowed viscously beside it.

"I hope not," Eowyn answered quietly, but could not add anything further that would discount that possibility. "We are in no position to help her if she has fallen into their hands," she said gravely.

"Then we must ensure that Lothiriel’s spell of unmaking comes to pass," Arwen stated firmly, investing her hope on that possibility if the worst had befallen Melia.

Eowyn did not comment but it preyed upon her mind that if Melia were indeed captured, the enemy had no reason to keep her alive. A skin changer could easily replace the former Ranger of Angmar and the Lady of Eden Ardhon and no one would raise a question of doubt except the husband who was already their creature. Unfortunately, the reality of the situation meant that even if Eowyn and Arwen were to abandon their plans to provide Lothiriel with a subject for her spell, there was no assurance they could reach Melia in time to help her. Assuming of course, that Melia had fallen into the enemy’s power and was not simply delayed in her efforts to join them.

Eowyn’s attempt to respond was abruptly cut short when she felt Legolas stirring in their grasp. Considering how much stronger elves were in comparison to men, Eowyn braced herself to be physically tested when the Prince regained his senses. Legolas was not only an elf and superior woodsman but he was also a battle hardened warrior who had seen more battles in his time then either Eowyn and even Arwen could even begin to imagine. He was a member of the Fellowship and even injured, he would be difficult to restrain.

"Arwen," Eowyn opened her mouth to warn the queen.

"I know," Arwen responded automatically, sensing the same stirrings from the prince of Mirkwood, far sooner than Eowyn herself had felt it.

Like her human companions, Arwen strengthen her hold upon the prince, bracing herself for the inevitable struggle that would arise once he awoke and realized that he was their prisoner. Arwen had no intention of attempting to use reason with him because she knew that nothing she said to him would penetrate the cloak placed over his mind by his shape shifting masters. It was just as well that Melia was absent, Arwen thought to herself. Legolas’ state of mind once he was awake would not be pleasant.

When the prince finally regained consciousness, he raised his head wearily and swept his gaze across his surroundings with confused expression. The shadow of his enforced slumber was still upon his mind and it took a few seconds before it could clear enough for him to understand where he was. Arwen knew that this realization was being hastened by the assault upon his senses thanks to their present route out of the palace. Like her, his sharp elven senses was not an advantage in this dank and stinking sewer.

"Where am I?" He muttered groggily as he became more aware of his surroundings.

Arwen debated answering him even though she knew nothing could prevent the ugly scene about to follow. Eowyn met her gaze with the same question in her eyes.

"You are with us Legolas," Arwen answered finally with some hesitation.

"With you?" He raised his head and met her eyes.

As soon as it was made aware to him in whose custody he was, Arwen felt his muscles tighten and his eyes narrow in calculation. He was preparing for a fight and Arwen had no wish to conduct one in this place. Her sword was unsheathed before she could even form the thought and took advantage of the sluggishness he had yet to discard. Drawing a sword on her old friend was hard but no harder she supposed than facing her husband and knowing that he was a stranger beyond her reach. After today, nothing in Arwen’s universe would ever be so black and white again.

"Do not struggle Legolas," Arwen’s word were measured but hiding the thick vein of anger that wanted expression. "We are going to help you though you may not believe it at this time."

"Help me?" He snorted derisively. "You have abducted me Madam, just as you abducted your son and made yourself a fugitive in your former kingdom!"

"I did not abduct my son," Arwen returned shortly, reminding herself that Legolas’ mind was not his own. Every word he uttered was tainted by the skin changer’s poison in his body. "I simply removed him from his father’s reach."

"You cannot hide him from the king forever," Legolas hissed. "When the treaty celebration is over, he will send an army to Imladris to claim what is his."

The threat to Imladris was clear and it raised some measure of alarm within her. However, no army had ever been able to breach Imladris since its establishment because of Elrond’s power over the Ford of Bruinen. Despite his departure from Middle earth, he had ensured that Imladris would always be protected until the elves dwelt no longer there. Arwen had no doubt that if the skin changers were foolish enough to send Aragorn on such a quest, they would have cause to regret it.

"You know as well as I that he will never enter Imladris with an army," Arwen retorted. "Besides, I intend to see to it that this situation never reaches that point."

"None of it is in your control, Evenstar," Legolas glared at her. "You have only three companions at your side while he is the King of Gondor with the lords of Middle earth ready to lay their lives down for him, what chance do you think you have?"

"A far better one than you believe," Eowyn declared. "Or what you are forced to believe."

"You still believe that we are under a spell?" He started to laugh. "What delusion you women have. The Easterlings are indeed correct that we have allowed our women too much freedom in the past."

"Search yourself Legolas," Arwen said sharply, feeling her anger splitting at the seams when she heard him speak that way. It was a far cry from the elf she had known for so long, the one with unmeasured kindness as well as a heart too reasonable to be won over by just prejudices. "Did you always feel this way? What could have happened to alter your thinking so radically?"

Legolas blinked and for a moment, Arwen could almost see the confusion rising to the surface of his blue eyes. It was only brief but it was clear that she had unsettled him.

"Your words are meaningless to me," he retorted. "I have always thought this way."

"It was you who taught me how to use a bow and arrow Legolas," Arwen reminded him. "Remember? I was but a century old and my father did not believe it proper that a lady of Imladris should use a weapon. Remember how you told me that it was foolishness to be unable to protect oneself, even if there was no need to do. We went to that glade near the river and you showed me how. You told me that the art of using a bow was not to think of it as a weapon…"

"But an extension of oneself," Legolas whispered.

"Yes," she declared, her heart swelling with hope at his memory. "You do remember!"

"NO!" He balked violently. "I was wrong! I did not know better!"

Arwen felt a wave of disappointment and supposed that she should not have imagined that it would be so easy. After all, she was battling with words a spell with far more substance then that of simply memory. However, it did console her somewhat to see that the foundation of his belief had been shaken by that recollection. A fracture had appeared in the belief that his thoughts were entirely his own.

"It is not your fault," Eowyn said sympathetically. "Your mind is not your own Prince Legolas. It has not been for some time now."

"I know my mind!" He shouted back and tried to struggle against their vice like grip upon him but to no avail. Both women were prepared for his resistance and Arwen’s blade against his throat was a sharp reminder of his situation.

"I am certain that you believe you do," Arwen replied as they continued down the darkened passageway, "but that is not so. Your mind has not been yours since the signing of the treaty. I knew the exact moment when it was taken away because I felt it."

"I am no one’s creature!" He declared, repeating the words she had heard from Aragorn when she had first confronted him about his sudden change in personality. Arwen wondered if this too was a part of the spell, that when confronted with the possibility of being under the control of another, the victim was to produce the same litany of words to convince himself otherwise.

"Do not worry Legolas," she said quietly. "It will not be for long."

Inwardly, she prayed that she was not making an idle claim because this was a gamble they could not afford to lose.

*********

Melia’s first impulse was to run.

Unfortunately his grip around her arm was strong and she did not relish the commotion that would result in her efforts to escape. When she had chosen to embark upon this charade, she had been forced to relinquish her crossbow and venture unarmed into the maw of danger. Never did she feel its loss more acutely than at present, when she was facing an enemy that knew he had her at a disadvantage. Melia could not imagine how he had seen through her disguise but supposed a general of his years would be difficult to fool in any instance.

"Let me go or pay the price," she hissed as her eyes darted about trying to see if anyone had noticed the scene between them. Fortunately, for the moment it appeared they were alone in the corridor but Melia was not about to assume that she was in any less danger.

"Pay the price?" He stared at her with a serious expression on his face, not at all derisive or triumphant, as one would expect of someone in his position. "I think it is you who are in a position of greater vulnerability than I, Lady Melia."

"That is a matter of perspective," she retorted, still struggling to remove herself from his clutches. "Do not doubt that I will not kill you if I have to. It may sound an alarm but I am capable of this, I promise you. You certainly deserve it after what you have done."

"I make no excuses for my choices," the general said in a low voice. "I do not doubt that a daughter of Hezare cannot make good on your threat but I do not wish to harm you, only to talk."

"Talk?" She stared at him. "What do we have to discuss?"

"That I would be happy to reveal," he returned quietly, stealing glances around them with just as much caution as she, "at the appropriate time. I ask you to trust me."

"When skin changers are involved, trust is difficult thing to give," Melia answered a little unsure of what she should do. Castigliari could well be a skin changer attempting to discern the whereabouts of her companions. However, if this were the case, why did he reveal himself to her? It would be far simpler to follow her unnoticed and discover that information himself.

"I know," he said earnestly. "I cannot make your choice any easier, not after what has taken place but I do not wish you harm and I must be allowed to speak."

Melia swallowed thickly, wishing she had more than her instincts to rely upon in this decision because so much weighed upon it. Unfortunately, that was not to be and she could not remain in this corridor any longer because eventually, someone would stumble upon them and wonder what was transpiring. She made a secret vow that she would not compromise her friends but she would give him the audience that he was so desperate to have.

"Let us leave this place for somewhere more private," Melia replied after a moment.

Castigliari’s face revealed his relief at her agreement to talk but Melia was unprepared to shirk her suspicions that he was not leading her into a trap, or that he was not a skin changer. She had no special senses like the elves, to be able to tell if he was deceiving her and that left her feeling vulnerable, not to mention unsettled as well. The general kept his grip on her as he prompted her into movement. They left the banquet hall and moved across the White Tower before finally reaching their destination in the gardens outside.

"What do you want?" Melia demanded as soon as they were alone. Over head, the night sky was bursting with color as fireworks stretched across the canvas in bright flame.

"I need to see the queen," he spoke after a moment using the tongue of the Harradirim for fear of being overhead. It was no easy thing for him to betray his king but Castigliari could tell that this alliance with the skin changers was at the peril of not only the leaders of Middle earth but all the Easterling people, not just those of Far Harad.

"That is not within my power to grant you," Melia responded, conceding to his desire to speak the language of Harad. Still, she had no intention of betraying Arwen, even if she believed Castigliari did not mean them harm.

"I must see her to tell her what is happening," the general repeated.

"We have manage to learn that all by ourselves," Melia retorted harshly. "We have no need of your counsel in this matter."

"I think you are wrong," he declared. "You do not know what they have planned. You do not know the full scope of their intentions here in Gondor."

"I know that they are skin changers," she replied. "That the Easterlings have allied themselves with skin changers."

"That is not true," Castigliari returned, appearing a little stunned that she knew so much. "Ulfrain has allied himself with the skin changers. My people have no idea what walks among them."

Melia stared at him in shock, taken back by that snippet of news. "How could you not know?" She demanded.

"Ulfrain made the alliance," Castigliari explained, "the Haradirim and the rest of Easterling confederacy has no knowledge of their existence. I myself did not know until your king and his council were poisoned by the sektari."

"Sektari?" Melia’s eyes widened familiar with that particular concoction. It was a favorite during times of celebration and extremely difficult to come by. "That is the agent that allows this spell to take charge of them?"

"Yes," Castigliari nodded. "When Ulfrain brought it with us, I thought it to be nothing more than a delicacy for our western neighbors. It never occurred to me that it could have any other use."

"It was tainted," Melia mused, able to imagine how things had unfolded following the signing of the treaty. Lothiriel had been correct. They had drunk a toast to their alliance, unaware that the contents of their goblets were tainted and would make them slaves to another creature’s will. Catching a glimpse at the haunted look in Castigliari’s eyes, she knew what had transpired was almost as great a shock to him as it had been to the victims.

"It tasted different," Castigliari turned away for poison was a most dishonorable method of gaining victory over one’s enemies. The Haradirim believed that meeting the enemy face to face was the only honorable way of combat. Poison was the tool of a coward and no Haradirim or Easterling for that matter would employ such methods unless they were completely devoid of honor or worse yet, Orcs.

"So they killed Ulfrain and took his place at the treaty?" Melia asked.

Castigliari did not meet her eyes but answered softly, "no, Ulfrain is still himself. He is not a skin changer. What he has done, he has done of his own will. He sought to make an alliance with the skin changers so that we would not be forced to bow down to the Gondorian king. He is proud like the rest of my people; he believed that accepting Gondorian aid was nothing less than submitting to defeat. He made the alliance and told no one of if mostly because he knew our people would be less inclined to suffer the power of another dark race as it was made to suffer the Orcs because of Sauron."

"Then who is it?" Melia demanded wit some measure of confusion. The skin changers would not be foolish enough to leave everything in Ulfrain’s hand. She had believed the skin changer would have been Castigliari but if the general was not the one, then who else was left?

"Akallabeth," he answered. "It is Akallabeth who is the skin changer."

Of course, Melia realized. Who else would it be? It made perfect sense now that she knew. Akallabeth’s subservient manner which had no other purpose then to engender a feeling of sympathy from everyone present, particularly the women. Ulfrain’s arrogant manner and his narrow minded view of what women should be and how he demanded such archaic behavior from his wife, who should have been treated as a queen but had less freedom then a slave. All of it had been part and parcel of the deception, manufactured solely for the purpose of producing every emotion, except suspicion. How blind they had been.

He saw the realization in her face and sympathized with her feelings. When he had learnt about Akallabeth, he had been gripped by similar emotions but by then it was too late to do anything about it. Castigliari was more realistic than his king at why the skin changers had chosen them to approach with their alliance. The people of Far Harad in the eyes of the world were a defeated people; a broken remnant of Sauron’s decayed influence in Middle earth. So many assumed that without the dark lord to do their thinking for them, that they were people without direct and hope, that they would latch onto the first glimmer of power that came their way. Castigliari did not know what hurt him more; the fact that it was true or that Ulfrain had believed it.

"I know that the skin changers have no greater preference for us then they do the lords of the western lands. They are motivated by vengeance and by conquest and my people are but a tool for them. Ulfrain thinks he is saving us but he has only made it easy for them to conquer us. When they are done with the Reunified Kingdom and its allies, I am certain that the skin changers will turn their attention to the Southrons and we will be in the same position as we are now. I have spent my entire life fighting for the Haradirim, I will not see the tyranny of Sauron replaced by that of the skin changers."

"Your speech is convincing general," Melia looked at him, unprepared to discard her suspicions about him just yet, even if she was granting him this audience. "However, words are not enough to convince me of your intentions. I will not bring you to my queen unless you are able to give me good reason to do so."

"I understand your hesitation," he confessed. "In your position, I would act no differently. However, you and your queen do not have a great deal of time. By the time the sun rises tomorrow, your king and all the leaders of Middle earth will be dead."

"Dead?" Melia’s eyes widened in shock, "what do you mean?"

"I mean that Akallabeth’s people are already in the palace and their plan is to kill all the lords of Middle earth and take their place. They intend to do it following the banquet. Why do you think they were so insistent that you women were restrained? When the queen threatened to take her tale to the war masters, Akallabeth had no choice but to act. The plan had been to take charge of King Elessar and his council, to use them as puppets until the rest of the skin changers were in the palace and capable of assuming their forms. Arwen was the only danger to that plan and that is why Akallabeth moved to restrain her. Unfortunately, I do not think she counted on your queen being so resourceful."

Melia did not speak for a few seconds because what she learnt was too horrible to contemplate. Hours, they had only hours to resolve this nightmare or else the men that they cared for would meet a brutal end. Under normal circumstances, Melia would hardly worry about any of them for each was formidable in their own way but this spell had taken away their ability to fight. They were helpless and they did not even know that they were being led to the slaughter.

She thought of Aragorn, the man to whom she had sworn her life and her allegiance. Even though she was now the wife of his best friend, Melia would always be a Ranger at heart and the constraints of that former duty compelled her to defend her king no matter what the consequences. What of Gimli, who was Legolas’ friend and companions, who had made her first days as the wife to an elven lord bearable by his humor and irascible nature. She could not bear to lose Gimli any more than she could bear to lose Legolas. Eowyn would never recover if she lost either Eomer or Faramir and Lothiriel would be similarly crushed if she lost her father, Imrahil. It could not be allowed! They had to do something!

"If you are deceiving me general," Melia shot him a look of pure venom, "there is nowhere on this earth that you can hide that I will not find you and make you pay."

"I would not be foolish enough to incur the wrath of Hezare’s daughter," he said earnestly. "You know now what is to be, what does your queen intend?"

"I will not discuss it with you," she returned. "I do not wish to keep you in the dark but you must understand how vulnerable you are. If you are right and we have only one chance to stop this, then I cannot risk taking you into our confidence. You are an experienced war master, you know that this is true."

"I do," he nodded. "I suppose the only thing that I can say is that when it comes time for the Evenstar to act against them, she can count on my assistance."

"I will be sure to tell her that," Melia answered. "You should return to the banquet before you are missed."

"And you?" Castigliari met her eyes.

Melia exhaled deeply before she responded, "I have to tell my queen that we need a new plan."

************

When they finally emerged into the fresh air once more, it felt as if they had spent an eternity of time in the sewers. Captor and captive took hungry breaths of sweet air once it was made available to them, taking it into their lungs in greedy gulps in an effort to wash away the rancid stench they had been forced to endure during their passage beneath the White Tower. Legolas had not given them much difficulty during their journey and Arwen suspected that his injury was impeding him far more than he liked to believe. Wounds to the leg could be deadly if the arrow struck the correct place and Melia had been forced to shoot her husband in close quarters during their confinement.

"What do you intend to do with me?" Legolas demanded rather wearily once they began their stealthy march towards the stables.

"Help you," Arwen said shortly and noticed that even in the moonlight, he seemed pale. She wondered if he would be able to endure the unmaking spell Lothiriel was preparing to carry out even as they spoke.

"Help me?" He laughed maliciously, "if you wish to help me then perhaps you should let me go."

"Legolas," Arwen sighed, not wishing to launch into another diatribe of convincing him that he was under the control of a shape shifter, especially when a spell prevented him for giving anything she said credence. "You and I have known each other for longer than some kingdoms have lived in this world, I would never harm you or allow you to be harmed in any way, but I will save you from yourself, no matter what you believe."

"It is not use Arwen," Eowyn replied impatiently. "He is too much their creature to believe anything."

"You are right that I do not believe you," Legolas retorted. "But I am no one’s slave."

Eowyn rolled her eyes in resignation and Arwen shook her head in similar distaste. Neither could blame the prince for his behavior for it was not his fault. Arwen was rather grateful that Melia was no here to see her beloved husband in this condition, although she prayed that the Ranger was already at the stables awaiting them. The fate of Melia preyed heavily on her mind and Arwen knew that should she fall into enemy hands, they would undoubtedly kill her since there was no reason to keep her alive.

As if aware of what she was thinking, Legolas suddenly spoke up, "where is my wife? I thought she would chose to accompany you in this display of defiance. After all, disobeying her husband and her family seems to be a habit with her."

"She will be along presently," Arwen said through gritted teeth, hating it immensely that Legolas could speak with such malice. The spell that had changed the prince ensured that his soul was tainted with their cruelty since she could not imagine anything so dark existing inside her old friend.

"Where is she?" Legolas asked, noting the slight tremor in her voice when she spoke of Melia.

"That is not your concern," Eowyn declared hotly but the truth was, the lady of Ithilien was just as concerned as Arwen regarding the fate of the Ranger. She should have caught up to them by now and her continued absence made them both extremely nervous.

"She is my wife," Legolas hissed. "I am her lord and her husband. I have every right to know what she is doing."

"And I will be happy to oblige when the skin changers have discharge their control over your mind," Arwen declared, starting to feel her temper fray. "However for you own sake Prince of Mirkwood, I would advise you to be silent."

She punctuated her sentence with a slight stab of her blade against his skin, reminding him most acutely that he was in no position to make demands of them.

Legolas fell silent but Arwen could sense the bristling of hatred in his gait. He had been manipulated to feel only dark emotions and she knew that if he were free to act, he would not hesitate to harm either her or Eowyn. Arwen had braced herself for the possibility that she may have to hurt him if he made such an attempt. It was not something she wanted to endure but Arwen would not be squeamish if forced into it. Fortunately, the prince chose to heed her advice and Arwen sensed that this was due to his physical condition rather than his belief in her determination regarding this matter.

They arrived at the stables and found that Lothiriel had completed her preparations. She had cleared one of the stables of its hay, having brushed it clean until one could see the floor beneath. A circle of ochre was formed on the stone surface, laced with markings that Eowyn could not identify at all but Arwen was certain to be some ancient form of Sindarin. She was rather impressed that Lothiriel was able to read it but then the line of Imrahil and his forebears claim their lineage from the Silvan elf maid Mithrellas who journeyed with Nimrodel from the southern havens. Indeed Lothiriel’s beauty had almost an elvish quality about it, as would her meager powers as a sorceress. While she not a wizard for the only true Istari were Maiar spirits, Arwen believed Lothiriel might have the understanding needed to thwart the skin changer’s plan.

Provided the girl believed in herself enough to manage it.

"What is this?" Legolas became animated again when he saw what awaited him within the stables. Lothiriel was in the center of the circle, laying out the important ingredients needed to make the spell work.

"Where is Melia?" Lothiriel asked nervously, trying not to pay too much attention to the subject for her spell of unmaking.

"She did not come back?" Arwen returned her question with one of her own.

"No," Lothiriel shook her head. "I thought she would return with you."

Eowyn and Arwen exchanged a brief glance of concern but neither could do anything to change the situation as it stood with Melia but there was much to be done in regards to her husband. "We will have to deal with Melia’s fate later. We must tend to him first."

"Tend to him?" Legolas demanded struggling a little and making Eowyn glad that they had chosen to bind his hands behind his back before embarking on the journey here. "What do you intend to do to me!"

"Nothing that will not hurt for too long," Eowyn retorted shortly, her temperament tested by the possibility that Melia might have come to harm. She helped Arwen escort the prince to the center of the circle and forced him to his knees, in front of an earthenware bowl.

"I am not certain I am able to do this," Lothiriel confessed, feeling more frightened than ever now that the moment was upon her.

Arwen stared at the girl, wishing she did not have to force the child into this position but they had no choice. Arwen knew nothing of magic and Pallando was too far away to be of any help. Lothiriel was all that they had in the way of a wizard and as much as it grieved Arwen to use her in this manner, they had no other choice.

"Lothiriel," Arwen placed a hand upon her shoulder, "I wish I did not have to call upon you for this but you are all that stands between us and Middle earth descending into darkness. I know it is a terrible burden to place upon your shoulders but I have no choice, you are all that I have to stop this thing from happening. True magic does not come from books or from the ability to read spells, it comes from within, from your belief that you can change the nature of things. You cannot simply try your hand at magic, you must wield it and be responsible for it. You worked your magic in the past with the insecurity of a child and faltered. You are a woman grown, despite your sheltered upbringing. If you were not, you would not have endured what we have suffered tonight. You stood by us and fought alongside us when it would have been easier to surrender, that takes courage."

Lothiriel’s eyes glistened with emotion at the Evenstar’s words. "I will not fail you my queen," she said softly. "If I have to give my life to succeed, I will see this spell done."

"Good," Arwen smiled, aware that the girl meant it with all her heart and admired her strength despite her fear. "Now let us proceed."

*************

It was going better than the creature called Akallabeth had possibly believed.

Seated at the right hand of the Easterling king Ulfrain, Akallabeth felt a deep sense of satisfaction at the progress of the carefully laid plan that would reach fruition in a matter of hours. Before Akallabeth, lay the court of Gondor and the nobility of Middle earth, basking decadently in the celebration of the treaty that unknown to them was meaningless. They danced, drank, ate and flirted with each other in reckless abandon as the evening was driven deeper into the night. Some of them were human and some of them were not. It would surprise the lord of Middle earth to know just who amongst them were not what they appeared.

Certainly, the king did not feel this way as he sat next to his wife, displaying the usual adoration that King Elessar was known to show towards his beloved Undomiel, whom a short time ago had miraculously, appeared to him in his chambers and begged his forgiveness. Forgiveness that was easier to give after Akallabeth had whispered in his ear. The same was managed by Faramir with his wife Eowyn and thanks to the injury sustained by the Prince of Mirkwood, there was no need to produce a facsimile of the Easterling traitor, Melia. To court of Gondor, nothing was out of the ordinary and by dawn it would not matter that the real Evenstar and her companions were at large, their husbands would be long dead and the skin changers dominion over Middle earth would be assured.

It did annoy Akallabeth slightly that the queen and her companions appeared to be so elusive. While it was hardly surprising after their experiences with the Evenstar at Nargothrond, not even Akallabeth had imagined the queen could be such an enormous thorn in their sides. Fortunately, Akallabeth had constructed the plan to dominate Middle earth with a number of contingencies and those had slipped into place perfectly, despite the complications caused by the Evenstar. The skin changers had entered the city and taken their place at court. If the war masters of Gondor knew just how many shape shifters were inside the Citadel, they would surely raise an army and storm their own palace.

But they did not know and would not until it was too late.

The prospect of what the dawn would bring left Akallabeth with a deep sense of satisfaction that both vengeance and their desire to shape their own future were met. The Evenstar, who had destroyed their world when she had collapsed the caverns surrounding Nargothrond would find her own world similarly ruined. She would know how it was to be displaced and when her king lay dead at her feet and the lords of Middle earth turned their back on her as an imposter, Akallabeth would be there to finish what was left of the elf. It was something that Akallabeth looked forward to immensely as did the rest of the skin changers that were driven from Nargothrond.

There were so many plans to fulfil once the dawn broke. With their dominance over the Reunified Kingdom assured, they would wreak a bloody wave of conquest over the rest of Middle earth. There were elven enclaves that were ripe for the plucking now that the greater majority of the Eldar had sailed across the street. Former elven strongholds such as Imladris and Eryn Lasgalen were vulnerable, not to mention the newly established home of the Noldor elf, Celeborn. Once the elves were done away with, they would find the remnant of Aule’s children in Erebor. The Easterlings and Haradirim they would leave to last for their aid to the skin changers plans earned them that much.

The sunrise would see the birth of a new black age.

Akallabeth rather liked the irony of it.

It was during all these grandiose ruminations that something disturbing happened. One of the threads that bound the mind of Akallabeth’s creatures tugged sharply in her consciousness. Blinking hard, the queen of the Haradirim looked about the room, trying to discern what had happened when that strange sensation made itself acutely felt. Gazing at the king of Gondor, Aragorn Elessar seemed oblivious to everything but his queen. The Steward Gondor was paying similar attention to his wife and did not seemed troubled at all. Akallabeth felt short of breath with a heart pounding so loud, it was quite possible that its sound could be heard beyond the body.

Someone was attempting to break the spell, Akallabeth thought with a flash of insight.

This realization corresponded by another insistent pull of the thread and this time, Akallabeth could feel its tension reaching breaking point. Whomever was at the other end of that thread would be suffering the effects of the attempt to sever the bond between them and yet as Akallabeth scanned the room, there was no evidence on any of those enchanted being in distress. Akallabeth sought out the faces of Aragorn, Eomer, Gimli, Faramir and Imrahil and saw that they were oblivious to what was happening. If anything, they seemed to be enjoying themselves and the celebration immensely.

Wait. One of them was missing.

***********

"What is wrong with him!" Eowyn demanded as Legolas started to cry out, shaking his head in pain as Lothiriel continued with the spell.

Lothiriel did not answer for her mind was too far away to hear Eowyn’s words. The spell of unmaking was no mere chant to be repeated. It was the expulsion of dark forces trapped inside a helpless victim and removing it required care and deliberation, not interruption. Lothiriel had never attempted a spell as complex as this but she forced the emotion of fear from her being because the mind of the conjurer had as much to do with the success of the spell as the magic itself. She could not allow her thoughts to be clouded by failure or insecurities. So many times in the past, she had filled her heads with incidental thoughts while attempting to perform magic and resulted in her spells going awry. She could not make the same mistake. The queen was depending on her.

"I do not know!" Arwen returned just as concerned. She had joined Lothiriel inside the circle, mostly because Legolas needed restraint. Eowyn had taken up a sentry position, ensuring they would not be interrupted or at least give them warning if they were discovered. Legolas was writhing in pain as the intensity of Lothiriel’s chant increased. Arwen glanced at the young woman and saw that her eyes were closed and her lips were moving softly as her soft voice became lost in the cries of Mirkwood’s prince.

There was something in the air, Arwen noticed. It had seeped into the room like invisible smoke but she could smell it nonetheless. It reminded her of the fires of Mordor, the pungent smell like rotten eggs. It made her swallow thickly to suppress her desire to gag at the stench. Returning her gaze at Legolas, the prince was crying in pain, a very unnatural sound coming from him. He was doubled over now, occasionally convulsing into an upright position when a fresh of pain attacked him. Arwen could see that it was taking all of Eowyn’s control to resist responding to her cries and empathized with the shield maiden of Rohan on this point. It was taking all her will to harden her heart to what was taking place.

"Help me!" Legolas shouted at Arwen, snapping her awareness into the present.

His pale skin was now flushed with red; a fine sheen of moisture had formed upon it, rapidly turning into slick sheets of perspiration as the intensity of his pain increased. His hands were bound to his back and Arwen could seem him pulling at his restraints, as if that would avail him anything. He managed his words in little more than a grunt before his teeth fused together in grinding pain and his entire body became taut. Arwen could not bear to look but because she had done this to him, she could not turn away either. Tears were running down her cheeks, in correspondence to his own and Arwen was actually grateful that Melia was not present. The queen had no idea how the lady would endure seeing her husband in this condition.

Lothiriel seemed oblivious to it all. The young woman was standing upright; her hands splayed to either side of her body and her invocation of the spell seemed to have encompassed all her attention for she made no reaction to either Legolas or Arwen. The words escaping her were ancient in their origins, a language of Sindarin so old that even Arwen had difficulty understanding it. She wondered where the young woman had learnt the craft and then decided that such deep questions were perhaps not appropriate for the moment.

"Arwen, we can’t let this go on!" Eowyn replied, wearing a desperate expression on her face because she was not a person that could ignore the agonized cries of another.

"We must!" Arwen returned anguished. "I cannot bear this but Lothiriel must be allowed to complete the ritual!"

"We cannot say for certain that she even knows what she’s doing!" Eowyn returned. "For all we know, she could be unintentionally killing him! You heard her yourself, she said her spells seldom work!"

"We had have choice!" The queen hissed as she heard Legolas’ cries became shrieks of agony. "You have to keep watch! They’ll be coming soon!"

Eowyn turned her attention to the doorway but appeared torn between her duty to rectifying their present dilemma and forcing the prince to endure this agony. With reason winning out over emotion, Eowyn resumed her duties as sentry, watching for guards who would be attracted by the commotion, if they were not already. It was difficult to focus on what was taking place beyond the stable doors when Legolas’ cries of pain left her in torment at what to do.

"Lothiriel!" Arwen called out to the young mage, finding her own ability to endure in the face of Legolas’ pain more than she could tolerate herself. "What is happening to him?"

Lothiriel did not answer and her lack of response drove more fear into Arwen’s heart regarding the prince’s ability to endure this agony for such a prolonged period. Arwen had never heard him scream before nor had she ever seen him in so much pain. Legolas always bore things so stoically. By nature, he was aloof and emotions seldom showed in his face for anyone, even another elf to know what he was thinking. Only since his marriage had he started to emerge from this emotional vacuum that he and so many long-lived elves placed themselves.

Suddenly, Legolas stopped screaming. However, his face remained a terrible mask of pain. Still on his knees, his body arched backwards, his head thrown back in pain. Blood began to seep out of his nose and his eyes were clamped shut. Arwen’s fear was reduced to panic at the sight of this and any restraint left inside her snapped at this point, splintering into a thousand fragments as she moved towards him. Yet even as she approached, Lothiriel’s words reached its climax and Legolas swung forward, doubling over before a violent upheaval was heard from the pit of his stomach. The retching sound was like a loud gurgle and upon leaning forward, expelled violently the contents of his stomach into the earthenware bowl waiting before him. His chest heaved violently once or twice as he displaced the alien substance in his body. Then he collapsed on the floor, his breath coming from him in loud rasps as he lay exhausted.

Lothiriel opened her eyes then and tumbled to the floor, her own exhaustion showing as she panted loudly, "is he alright?" She managed to ask. "Did the unmaking work?"

Arwen could not say for certain. She rounded the bowl, trying to keep her eyes away from the dark substance that Legolas had ejected from his body and knelt at the side of her old friend. His lips were stained with the remnants of the poison and his skin was far paler than should be of any elf. She placed her hand upon his skin and felt the heat under her palm but it was from exertion, not from illness.

"Legolas," she called out. "Can you hear me?"

His eyelids fluttered briefly and though he did not open his eyes, he did nod wearily, "Evenstar….. I hear you."

"Do you know where you are?" She asked softly.

There was a slight pause before he shook his head, "I am in the great hall."

All three women dared not speak as they looked at each other and then at the prince once more.

"What is the last thing you remember, Prince of Mirkwood?"

Another pause followed, "treaty. We were drinking a toast to the treaty."

Arwen let out a deep sigh of relief, her head drooping slightly from the intense emotion that was coursing through her. Until this moment, their hopes of freeing Aragorn and the others had been just that, hopes. Now it was a reality.

"It is good to have you back, old friend." Arwen said placing her hand on his cheek.

Legolas was still disorientated but he was recovering quickly. After all, he was an elf. "Was I gone?" He managed to ask.

"Further away than you could possibly imagine," Arwen answered, aware that explanations would be needed if his memory of what transpired since the spell had taken him was erased from his mind. After freeing his hands, she looked over her shoulder and saw Eowyn tending to Lothiriel. The young woman appeared exhausted but unhurt by her efforts. Arwen was glad of this since the same procedure would need to be repeated if they were to free the rest of the men under the skin changer’s power. Still Arwen did not relish seeing Aragorn endure the same agony.

"Lothiriel," Arwen called to the lady of Dol Amroth. "How do you fare?"

Lothiriel raised her eyes to the queen, wearing an expression of awe on her face, "I fare well knowing that I did not fail. I cast the spell of unmaking and it worked."

Her smile of pride was infectious and had greater ramifications then just her success as a mage. For the first time since this affair had began, Arwen could see a way out of their predicament and that gave her a good deal of hope.

Arwen helped Legolas sit up when suddenly, Melia appeared at the door. The ranger halted for a moment as her eyes surveyed the situation and paused when she saw Legolas. The prince’s condition had not improved even though he was now lucid.

"Mia," he exclaimed when he caught sight of her.

Instead of going to him as Arwen she wanted to, Melia held her ground. "Is he free of the spell?" She asked cautiously.

"Yes," Arwen nodded with a little smile. "He is free of it."

Melia’s shoulders sagged considerably with relief but was soon approaching her husband. Arwen could see their earlier encounter preying heavily in Melia’s mind and the queen understood all too well the emotions of gratitude she was feeling at having her husband and her love returned to her at last. It was emotions that Arwen soon hope to share when they freed Aragorn from the shape shifter’s spell.

"You do know how to vex me Prince," Melia said after embracing him.

"What has happened?" He asked, understandably concerned. "I remember nothing and it appears I have been injured," Legolas remarked glancing at his leg.

"I am sorry for that," Melia apologized, basking in the fact that the elf she loved was himself again, not that stranger she had been forced to hurt. "It was necessary."

"You did this to me?" He stared at her, brow raised with shock. It was obvious that he was in need of explanations.

Melia looked to Arwen for guidance, uncertain of how much should be revealed to him. She did not wish him to know that just a few hours ago, they stood before each other’s as enemies. She did not want to tell him that he had been the slave of a skin changer or that he had been ready to deliver her to his masters without a second thought. She knew her husband and he would feel enormously guilty about his actions, even if it were through no fault of his own.

"Old friend," Arwen decided to spare Melia that trial and took up the unpleasant duty herself. "The kingdom is in great peril even as we sit here discussing the matter. The Haradirim have deceived us. They are in alliance with the skin changers of Nargothrond, the remnants of Glaurung’s army."

If anything could disperse the lingering fog in the prince’s mind, it was that revelation. The warrior in him immediately regained full consciousness and he was suddenly staring at them with all faculties intact and primed for combat.

"Continue," he urged firmly, his voice hard like flint.

"I will in due course," Arwen returned, "but I must know what is the absolute last thing that you remember before awaking here?"

Legolas glanced at Melia briefly before considering the question. Trying to remember was like seeing his memory through a dull fog, vague and unclear. "I remember the treaty and signing it. There was discussion about a toast, something called sektari I believe."

"It was poisoned," Melia concluded for him. "I just had a meeting with Castigliari, the Easterling general."

"What?" Arwen exclaimed.

"He claims that the Haradirim are unaware of the skin changers among them. The alliance we thought they forged with the skin changers was the work of Ulfrain and he has told no one. Akallabeth is a skin changer. "

"I knew that there was something about her!" Eowyn hissed. "All this time, she played us for fools, invoking our sympathy for her when all she was doing was watching us!"

"Arwen," Melia ignored Eowyn’s outburst and continued her revelations, "Castigliari told me their plan. They intend to murder all the leaders of Middle earth under their control and replace them with skin changers before the dawn."

"Dawn?" Lothiriel cried out in horror, "that is only a few hours away!"

Arwen let out a sigh and replied with steel in her voice, "then that is how long we have to think of a way to stop them."

Part Eight
The Darkness before Dawn

Legolas Greenleaf listened solemnly.

The Lord of Eden Ardhon and the Prince of Mirkwood listened in silence as Arwen related to him all that had transpired in Minas Tirith since he had participated in the toast following the signing of the treaty with the Easterlings. He said little as he heard how, he and the other members of Middle earth’s ruling Council had fallen under the spell of the Easterling queen Akallabeth, now unmasked as a skin changer and a former servant Glaurung and prior to that, the dark enemy Morgoth. There was little expression on his handsome features but those who knew him were accustomed to his aloof manner. His façade may have displayed indifference but his eyes; his eyes were burning with the cold fire of outrage.

After Arwen was done telling her tale, Legolas did not speak for a brief time. He appeared as if he were absorbing her words into memory and attempting to formulate a response to the extraordinary events he had played such a role in, but had no memory of. Yet he could feel it inside, that feeling he had done something terrible even though he knew not what exactly. Legolas turned his high powered gaze to his wife and raised a brow at what she wore but his attention to that detail was fleeting. He noticed the bruise on her face and felt his stomach hollow with realization knowing that the one person she would have allowed close enough to inflict that injury, was him.

"Am I responsible for this?" He asked softly, brushing his fingertips against the bruise to her upper lip.

Melia touched his cheek said with sincerity, "it was not your fault. You were not yourself."

Legolas sucked in his breath, having that question answered with her response. "I am sorry my love," he replied after a moment, "I would never consciously hurt you and it wounds me greatly to know that I am responsible for this."

Melia caught his hand against her skin and held it within hers for a moment, her eyes conveying to him that she loved him too much to bear in malice in actions he had no power to prevent.

"Prince," Melia said warmly, "I love you and I am thankful that you have been returned to me. However, our situation has not changed despite the freeing of your mind."

"I know," Legolas nodded, "You are right, there is ample time to discuss my conduct at a later time. For now, we have to free the others."

"The question is how," Eowyn declared from the stable, still keeping watch that they were not caught unaware by guards. "We now have a matter of hours in which to act and our quarry is well guarded."

"Even more so now," Lothiriel added glancing at Legolas. "Akallabeth may know that her spell over Legolas has been broken."

"We have to try," Arwen said firmly. "If we do not, then the entire body of Middle earth’s rulers with the exception of the Prince here is going to replaced by skin changers. I do not think that even Ulfrain has any idea what kind of bargain he has made with the enemy. They have no more preference for the Easterlings then they do us, the skin changers will annihilate them in just the same way, only later."

"We have no choice then," Legolas met her gaze. "We have to infiltrate the banquet and the young lady of Dol Amroth will have to perform her spell upon all of them."

Lothiriel did not appear as certain she would be able to accomplish this. Her face clearly showed her apprehension at so much being expected of her. However, she could not deny that having been able to successfully carry out the spell of unmaking that saw Legolas free of his enchantment had filled her with more confidence than she had ever felt before. She thought of her father and Eomer still trapped in the that awful spell and knew that she had to free them, no matter what the cost to herself.

"That is easier said then done Prince," Melia replied. "I was not so anonymous as I believed when I infiltrated the banquet hall. Even though Castigliari professes to be an ally, I could have just as easily been discovered by someone who has not. If I am alone could not manage this, I have little doubt whether all of us can."

"That is true," Arwen had to concede Melia’s point but she could not bring herself to admit defeat, not when they had discovered that it was in their power to free the others as they had done Legolas.

"It will even be more difficult since copies of ourselves now sit at our husband’s side," Eowyn added unhappily. The idea that a facsimile of herself was playing Faramir’s doting wife was enough to twist her insides with fury.

"So at this moment, everyone in the banquet hall believes that there is no discourse between Aragorn and his queen?" Legolas mused.

"Yes," Melia nodded, her expression wrinkling with disgust as the memory of the imposters at the banquet. "Both Arwen and Eowyn were represented. Fortunately, because of the injury to you Prince and your absence at the feast, I was spared that indignity."

"Then all we need to do is reach the banquet hall while it is still peopled with guests and show ourselves," Arwen declared, an idea forming in her head.

"Why yes!" Eowyn exclaimed. "As Melia said, neither the Easterlings or the Gondorian guards are aware of what is transpiring, they only know what the king tells them."

"And if the king is in the company of shape shifters," Legolas said with a smile, impressed by Arwen’s strategy. "Then he will have to explain why. Not even the people’s love for Aragorn as their king will allow such a thing to go unexplained."

"What about the Prince?" Melia asked concerned for Legolas. If Lothiriel was right and Akallabeth had some suspicion that Legolas’ was freed of her control, there was no reason to think she would not attempt to harm him.

"Even a skin changer would not be foolish enough to use Aragorn to strike at Legolas," Arwen spoke before he could. "Any attack upon him would bring down the wrath of Thranduil and the outrage of every elf still remaining in Middle earth. While our numbers are no longer what they were, the elves are still a force to be reckoned with."

"That is good to know," Melia remarked, offering her husband a relieved smile.

"I would not be so certain of that," Legolas answered however, "they intended to replace all of us with others of their kind. Such a deception would require my death as much as the other leaders of Middle earth. I think Arwen’s plan is the only way left to us. We must expose the imposters before everyone at the banquet and we must do it quickly. The hour grows late and even as we speak the festivities are drawing to a close. If we are to succeed, we must move now."

It was all happening so quickly. It felt like this nightmare had been unfolding for an eternity, not a matter of mere hours. Now it appeared as if there was an end in sight but it had come so quickly upon them that Arwen scarcely had time to breathe or to accustom herself to the fact that before the dawn came, this crisis would see its end one way or another. Still, no matter how much risk was involved, any plan that would see the freedom of her beloved Estel was one she was willing to attempt. Unfortunately, entering the banquet hall and exposing the shape shifters for what they were was not the only difficulty that lay before them. No doubt in such a confrontation, Akallabeth still had the power to use Aragorn and against them.

"I do not wish to fight my husband," Eowyn spoke, voicing her own thoughts on the matter. "If we do this, that is precisely what will happen. I do not wish to fight Faramir."

"Any more then I would like to face my friend Lady Eowyn," Legolas responded in understanding of her feelings. "I do not see that we have any choice."

"We have to perform the spell of unmaking upon them," Lothiriel suggested, "however, you saw what effect the spell had upon the Lord of Eden Ardhon to see this done. It will be the same with all of them."

"If we expose Akallabeth for what she is, we will have help," Arwen reminded. "Lothiriel, you must bring with you the ingredients for this spell. If we have to, we will barricade them inside the hall to see them free of this pestilence."

Still despite Arwen’s efforts to be optimistic about what they were intending to do, no words could lessen the danger of what they were about to attempt. Even with Legolas restored to them, the Prince who was a member of the Fellowship, there were no guarantees that they would succeed. Unfortunately, Legolas was right. They had run out of time.

It was this way or none at all.

**************

Akallabeth was not happy.

The skin changer sensed something was wrong and yet Akallabeth could not leave in the presence of all the assembled guests without drawing suspicions. The plan was mere hours away from fruition and yet something unsettling had stirred within the creature. One of their pawns was somehow freed of the shackles upon on his mind and since everyone else was assembled, Akallabeth deduced rather quickly which one of them it was.

Elves, the skin changer snorted with derision.

That accursed race was capable of nothing but complicating relatively simple matters, just as the Evenstar had done on this occasion. If only they had managed to lay their hands upon her half-breed whelp, it would have ensured her cooperation. Unfortunately, even the best efforts of the king had been unable to retrieve the child. Whomever the Evenstar had entrusted her son was very capable of ensuring no harm befell the young prince, much to Akallabeth’s severe displeasure.

No doubt Legolas Greenleaf was now aware that he had been under a spell though how he had freed himself was a matter of concern to Akallabeth. As far as the skin changer was aware, there was no one in all of Gondor that was capable of undoing the magic that had bound its king and the rest of Middle earth’s ruling council. The wizard Pallando according to all accounts was in Mirkwood, Akallabeth had been certain of this prior to their arrival in Minas Tirith. He was the only one who was versed enough in magic to be able to circumvent the spell cast over the king and his companions. It disturbed the Easterling queen greatly that Legolas was free because if it was Pallando who was responsible, then the skin changers would be facing an Istar with uncharted powers.

"We have a problem," Akallabeth whispered in Ulfrain’s ear as Castigliari returned to his seat next to them.

"What sort of problem?" The Easterling king asked looking up in surprise. The banquet hall was crowded with revelers and everyone seemed to accept the facsimiles of the queen and the Lady of Ithilien without question. As far as Ulfrain was concerned, everything was transpiring exactly as it should.

"The Lord of Eden Ardhon is no longer under our control," Akallabeth replied.

"What?" Ulfrain hissed loudly and then quickly silenced himself when he noticed the gaze of a passerby looking up at him in question.

"Calm yourself," Akallabeth ordered sharply "He is only one but he has been freed."

"I thought you said that was impossible," Castigliari retorted.

"Impossible for the queen but not a wizard if one is present," Akallabeth answered, glaring at the general who clearly disliked the whole notion of the alliance his king had struck with her.

"What do we do?" Ulfrain demanded, clearly afraid at this turn of events.

Castigliari could not believe that the son had come from a father he had served so faithfully and fought so bravely for in the past. Ulfrain was weak and he was malicious, unlike his father who understood his place in the scheme of things and did the best for his people, despite their foolish devotion to Sauron. Part of Castigliari’s decision to help the Lady Melia and the queen was due to the deficiencies he was noticing in the king he had pledged to serve, the king who would bring them to disaster far worse than even the War of the Ring.

"He will not doubt attempt to reach the king and expose our scheme," Castigliari offered quietly. "We must stop him."

Akallabeth stared at him with a small measure of surprise, impressed by his backbone and his quick thinking, "you are right general."

"I suggest that you keep your people confined to this room and allow the king’s guards to take up position around the banquet hall. We cannot allow the prince to speak to the palace guards and poison their minds with the possibility that their king might be a skin changer’s creature. From the wife who was implicated in crimes that is one thing, however, Legolas is the Prince of Mirkwood and a member of the Fellowship of the Nine, his word is almost beyond reproach," Castigliari continued, hoping that he was capable of playing games of deception as well as Akallabeth.

"That is sound General," Akallabeth nodded. "Go to it immediately. If that elf comes within a foot of this room, kill him. Damn the consequences. My people should be able to mask his demise and by morning it will no longer matter."

"It will be done," Castigliari smiled and rose to his feet, bowing slightly in the presence of his king and queen before he departed from their company.

For the first time since this entire affair had begun, the general was starting to see a light at the end of this dark night.

*********

"That is an interesting costume you wear wife," Legolas commented as his eyes moved appreciatively over Melia in her Easterling garments, as they moved through the sewers once more.

"If you even think of asking me to wear it again, I will shoot you in your other leg," Melia replied sweetly while still managing to give him a look of warning.

"It was a mere thought," the prince smiled. This situation, for some odd reason, reminded him of the journey to Ered Mithrin during the early days of their relationship. "I must confess that it is most becoming."

"I think I liked him better when he was under Akallabeth’s spell," Eowyn added.

"Oh you get used to him," Arwen could not help but add, "it takes a long time though."

"How long?" Eowyn looked over her shoulder at the queen.

"About three thousand years," she laughed softly.

"I think I am outnumbered," Legolas replied good naturedly, glad to see that their spirits were still high despite the emotional stresses they must have endured since the signing of the treaty.

"With weapons far sharper than swords," Melia smiled, pausing long enough to give her husband a glance that expressed her affection towards him in no uncertain terms.

"Are you certain that these disguises will allow you to reach the banquet hall?" Legolas asked with concern as he regarded Arwen and Eowyn who were clad in the garments of soldiers while Lothiriel was still wearing the disguise she had used to leave the palace unnoticed.

"They were good enough for us to retrieve you from your quarters," Arwen replied. "I hope our fortune will last long enough for us to enter the banquet hall."

"We must beware," Lothiriel added for the first time. Despite the fact that the young woman had counted herself more than worthy to be in their company, she was still a little reserved about making herself heard. "The skin changers I saw must surely be in the palace by now," she reminded.

"I would say that they are most likely within the banquet hall itself," Arwen replied in agreement. "If they intend to murder the king and his company, then it is likely they would wait until the celebration is done and then move in for the kill. Legolas, you still command the respect of Gondor’s troops, I believe that you can convince enough of them that the king is in danger and hasten our arrival at the banquet hall. Melia, you will go with him."

"Why?" Melia asked immediately. She had begun this adventure at Arwen and Eowyn’s side and though she loved her husband, she felt similar duty to her friends.

"Because to them, you appear as a member of the Easterling entourage," Arwen answered swiftly. "Do not fear, Eowyn and I will not be far behind. We will follow the soldiers but discreetly, as will Lothiriel who can enter the banquet hall as a serving boy."

"It is a sensible course my love," Legolas added. "Evenstar, you do your father proud on this day. I do not think he could manage such wise counsel."

"If word were all that were needed to win the day, I would accept your praise with pride," Arwen gave him a warm look, grateful for the praise but aware of the odds they still faced. "However, it is deeds that will decide how this will end."

And by night’s end, it appeared they would have to accomplish a bit of it.

*************

General Castigliari wondered if he had suddenly gone mad.

Considering his present course, there was every reason to believe he had taken leave of his sense. The risks to himself were considerable and he had no idea if what he had embarked upon could ultimately lead to the freeing of his people from this dark alliance that Ulfrain had made with the skin changers. He only knew that at the time, the opportunity presented itself and he had grasped it with both hands. In the field of battle, he knew when to make use of an advantage. In this instance, the anxiety he had seen in Akallabeth’s eyes was the first sign of weakness he had witness in the skin changer since this nightmare began.

Ulfrain’s personal guard numbered only a handful of men and that concerned Castigliari since he was unaware of just how many skin changers were in the palace. He was certain however, that aside from the skin changers wearing the faces of the Queen and the lady of Ithilien, there were others within the banquet hall, appearing harmless until the moment came for them to do away with the rulers of Middle earth. In truth, Castigliari had no great love for his former enemies but even he was astute enough to recognize who was the greater threat in this instance. This alliance of the skin changers would be little different from their alliance with Sauron, which was to say no alliance at all.

For as long as he could remember, the people of the Haradirim and all the nations that constituted the Easterlings, were bound in service to Sauron and the dark lord Morgoth before him. Sauron’s agents called it an alliance but since the Haradirim had no but to serve, the nature of their relationship with Mordor was more akin to slavery than anything else. They fought when Sauron ordered them to do so and they were expected to die with similar obedience. Their entire culture had been sacrificed to the ideal of becoming a vital cog in Sauron’s war machine. There was little infrastructure within their society that was not geared towards warfare and even Castigliari recognized that unless this changed, they would become extinct.

"What are your orders Sir?" Ramariz, the captain of the king’s guard asked of the general after he had summoned them all outside the banquet hall. Behind the close doors where the feasting was taking place, the noise of partygoers had contracted to a mild din and Castigliari could now be assured that he had escaped the watchful eye of Akallabeth.

"There is something a foot here tonight," Castigliari answered as his eyes scan the faces before him and he wondered if Akallabeth had replaced any of his men with her skin changers. "I cannot say what for the moment but if you catch sight of the Prince of Mirkwood, you are to detain him. Do not allow him into the banquet hall until I have been consulted, is that clear?"

The soldiers looked at each other in puzzlement, aware that such action against an ally in the palace of its king was a dangerous action indeed. However, many of the men present had fought alongside the general in the wars preceding this alliance and they had learnt not to question his orders. They trusted him far more than they would trust their king Ulfrain, though not of them would make such an admission out loud.

"We will do as you ordered General," Ramariz answered firmly, mirroring the words of his general. "We will detain the prince if he enters our presence."

"Good," Castigliari patted Ramariz on the shoulder in gratitude. "We may yet save our people from the darkness had threatens us all."

They did not understand to what he referred to but they trusted him and that was good enough for now. Castigliari was almost as uncertain as they of what would transpire as the evening drew to a close but at least when it came upon them, they would be prepared.

*************

"Are you ready?" Legolas asked the women before him as their plan moved into its final stages.

"Go to it Legolas," Arwen ordered, answering his question at the same time, "time grows short."

Taking refuge behind the turn of a corner, they could hear the chatter of palace guards from the corridor beyond. This plan would not work without the aid of Gondor’s warriors and soliciting their aid would be a precarious venture at best. Thanks to Akallabeth’s control of Aragorn, so much distrust had been sown in the soldiers against their queen, that it had been impossible for Arwen to convince them of what had befallen the kingdom. However, Legolas Greenleaf was another thing entirely. He, like the king himself, was member of the legendary Fellowship and possessed the weight needed to convince them that a shadow had fallen over the Citadel. Perhaps even enough for them to consider their queen’s words of truth.

Legolas nodded and gazed at the Evenstar who was like her sister to him. By the grace of her convictions and the courage of the friends who stood by her side, she had staved off the disaster that was threatening the entire realm of Middle earth and might still do so if they failed in their mission tonight. He leaned forward and planted a kiss on Arwen’s forehead, then moved to Eowyn where he squeezed her shoulder as he would a comrade in arms before finally offering the young Lothiriel a smile of encouragement.

No further words needed to be spoken because those slight gestures were enough to convey the depth of his feeling. He turned to his wife, who would stand shoulder to shoulder with him as they undertook their most dangerous gamble of the night. Although his leg still ached in pain, as an elf he recovered quickly and was still a formidable opponent as he intended to prove it by the bow and the swords he carried on his back. They had retrieved his weapons prior to their arrival here and now that he was armed with the necessary assemblage for battle, he was read for whatever lay ahead.

Stepping out of the corridor with Melia at his side, Legolas strode forward boldly, hiding the slight limp in his walk and made his way directly for the guards. They caught sight of him immediately as they took up sentry positions along the wall of the corridor leading to the banquet hall. With so many guests of important standing present on this occasion, Legolas could not deny that additional security measures were warranted.

"Guards," Legolas called them forward and Melia tensed at his side. She gazed quickly over her shoulder and saw that Arwen and Eowyn were keeping watch closely. This made her feel a little more secure, though she could not say why.

"I wish you all to come with me," Legolas’ words brought her attention back to her prince. "I have uncovered an assassination plot against the king. At this moment, the feast has been infiltrated by assassins posing as the Easterling entourage, preparing to murder the king and all the members of the ruling council at the close of the evening."

A tremor of outrage moved through the guards who were present but the word of Legolas Greenleaf was difficult to discount.

"This plot has deeper ramifications than mere assassination I am afraid," Melia added her voice to the mix. "We believe that the Easterling king has made an alliance with agents of darkness, skin changers who are able to assume the guise of any one of us. If you accompany us to the banquet hall, we will prove this irrefutably."

For the soldiers of Gondor, the memory of the Black Sleep and the Nazgul were still fresh in their minds, following the War of the Ring. They knew such dark creatures existed in this world and the fact that it might have taken their king was nothing to be ignored. The Lady Melia had claimed that they would be provided with proof and until that was proved a falsehood, the guards were duty bound to investigate the possibility that some harm may have befallen their king.

"We follow your lead Prince Legolas," the leader, a man Melia recognized as Darond, the captain of the palace guards, declared firmly.

Relief flooded Melia as Legolas took charge and made their way towards the banquet hall. She looked past her and noted that Eowyn and Arwen had made their emergence from the corridor, falling in behind the soldiers that were currently on the move. The thoughts of the soldiers in their party were now firmly fixed upon the safety of the king and did not notice that their number had suddenly increased by two. It was just as well, Melia thought, for it was imperative that Arwen and Eowyn came face to the face with the imposters before the entire court of Gondor.

Only then, would everyone know the truth.

*********

Arwen and Eowyn continued to follow the company of soldiers in their advance towards the banquet hall, remaining discreetly behind until the doors to the room appeared at the end of the corridor. However, it appeared that Akallabeth had already foreseen their possible attempt to interrupt the proceedings since there were Easterling guards taking up sentry positions. The reaction of the Gondorian guards to this was almost instantaneous and Arwen heard the unsheathing of swords as both factions prepared to meet each other in battle. She could feel the tension rippling through the men of Gondor and the sparks that were being added to a situation that could become enflamed in a matter of seconds. If either side began fighting, whatever advantage they had would be lost for the skin changers would know that their plans were in peril. Even Arwen could not be certain how they would react.

"Stand aside," Legolas declared firmly as the Easterling guards barred them from progressing forward. "You have no authority to bear arms against the guards of the king whose palace you are a guest."

"We have our orders," the Easterling called Ramariz declared firmly, aware of how tenuous his position was but unwilling to disobey Castigliari’s instructions to them. "We are to detain you here, Prince of Mirkwood."

"You have the right to detain no one," Darond, retorted sharply. "You will let us through or suffer the consequences."

"We have been told that there is treachery afoot," Ramariz held his ground for his uncertainty not quite enough to yield his position.

"We know the treachery that is a foot," Legolas persisted, gesturing to the men behind him to hold their position. "Your queen is a shape shifter and she had used this treaty to gain entry into the Citadel so that their kind can assassinate the King of Gondor."

"A shape shifter?" Ramariz stared at Legolas in disbelief.

"Enough of this," Arwen’s patience finally snapped and she pushed her way through the guards to the front. Pulling the helmet off her head, her dark hair flowed around her shoulders and drew astonished cries from everyone present.

"Queen Arwen!" Darond exclaimed as he found himself at his queen. For most of the day, he and his men had been pursuing the queen across the palace, with orders to apprehend her and all her companions at any cost. Darond like the rest of the guard could not understanding the reasoning behind the king and the steward’s vehement demand but dared not question either. An hour before the banquet was to begin the king suddenly rescinded the order against the queen and she had miraculously appeared at his side, with all sins forgiven leaving the guards confused by the whole incident. However, Darond had seen the queen within the banquet hall with the king; he had seen it with his own eyes and as far as he knew, she was still inside the room.

"How is this possible?" He mused and his confusion was mirrored on the face of his Easterling counterpart as well. "I saw you in the banquet hall but a short time ago."

"As did I," Ramariz declared with similar amazement.

"There is not much time," Arwen took the lead, deciding that it was time she stopped hiding and made her presence felt as queen of Gondor, instead of a fugitive. "Both of our peoples have been deceived by the skin changers who are now in the presence of the king. What you saw sitting at King Elessar’s right hand was not his wife but a skin changer who has every intention of killing him before the night is done. I cannot deny that this has been a strange day with the king issuing some equally strange orders in relation to my capture and incarceration but I need you to believe me, that the king is in danger and if we do not act now, it will be too late."

"She speaks the truth Darond," Legolas added his support behind Arwen’s impassioned statement. "I have seen with my own eyes the darkness that has overcome the palace."

Darond wrestled briefly with his decision for his world was one of rather black and white simplicity. The rest of what the queen said could be discerned at a later date but for him, only one thing mattered and that was the safety of his liege. Whatever else that transpired this day could be explained at a later time, however for the moment, Darond’s duty was to protect the king.

"We are at your service, your highness," Darond bowed slightly before her.

"Thank you," Arwen smiled, grateful for his faith in her words. However, she was far from done. Turning around she faced Ramariz with eyes of cold steel, speaking in a voice not quite her own and rather unnerving when coming from one so beautiful, "You will allow us to pass immediately. If you do not and any harm befalls my husband, I will swear to you that Gondor will perceive your inference as an act of war! Now stand aside!"

Ramariz was clearly shaken by the threat and unwilling to jeopardize the safety of his people especially when delivered by the queen with such ferocity. Glancing behind him briefly, he nodded at his men and took a step back in a gesture of compliance.

"You have made a wise decision," Arwen said coolly and gestured for Darond and his men to follow her.

"Now my lady, you can make another by allowing us help you," Castigliari announced himself as he appeared, having been summoned by one of his men when Legolas was first sighted.

"General," Arwen greeted, "thank you for the information you have provided."

"Perhaps you would care to explain why you have ordered your men to detain Legolas?" Eowyn asked suspiciously.

"I took the opportunity to be of assistance," Castigliari explained himself not only to Gondorians and their queen but also his own men. "Akallabeth knew that Lord Legolas had been freed of the enchantment."

"Enchantment?" Darond blinked in question.

"All will be explained in due course," Arwen remarked offhandedly before returning her attention to the general again. "Go on."

"She anticipated that you and Lord Legolas might attempt to enter the banquet hall so I volunteered my men to prevent her from assigning that task to her skin changers. I assumed that if you were going to attempt storming the banquet hall, you would have some kind of plan to do so, unless of course I have underestimated you greatly. I am still new to this idea of women possessing a military mind," he added with a little smile.

"I will not disappoint you and I would have you join us for your people are as much in jeopardy as ours," Arwen said graciously. "What plan I have, I will reveal once we are inside. The skin changers are wise and they may have planted an imposter amongst us. Unfortunately, there is no way to discern the truth for now. all you need to know is I intend to expose the skin changers in our midst. The rest will unfold later."

"Your reasoning is sound my lady," Castigliari bowed slightly in respect. "I follow your lead."

"Good," Arwen declared and resumed her journey towards the banquet room; "I think its time we join the festivities."

***********

Akallabeth could sense something amiss.

It was more than just the breaking of the spell that had bound the elf Legolas Greenleaf; it was an instinct that there were forces at play of which Akallabeth was unaware. That made the skin changer nervous and watchful for danger. The celebration was starting to thin with some guests departing for the night, however there were still enough people present to ensure that the plan to deal with the ruling council of Middle earth could yet to proceed. Still, Akallabeth could not shed this feeling of uneasiness that had clawed its way into the skin changer the nearer their plan came to fruition.

If the Prince had been freed, where was he? Surely by now, he would have attempted to raise the alarm that the king’s will was no longer his own. Undoubtedly, his first move would be to reach the king and by doing so leave himself to interception by Castigliari and his men. The general had yet to return following his departure from the table to check on the progress of his men and Akallabeth could not deny being surprised that he was being of such assistance. What other choice did he have but to comply with Ulfrain’s plans? It was not as if he could usurp the authority of his king, not unless he was willing to expose the Easterling complicity in this affair.

The realization struck Akallabeth so sharply that the skin changer almost cursed out loud in fury. However, any exclamation made would have been lost by the sound of the banquet doors being flung open, the heavy wood slamming against the brick wall as Akallabeth’s worst fears were realized.

The crowd fell dead silent as the Evenstar stepped into the room. She was wearing the garb of a Gondorian warrior but hers was a face that could not be mistaken and as she stood before them real as life, with the lady of Ithilien in similar stead, there was no denying it. Within seconds, eyes darted between Arwen and the woman occupying the seat next to the king and there was no hiding that in appearance they were identical. Similar observations were made of the facsimile beside Lord Faramir and very soon the mood of celebration was replaced by confusion as everything descended into chaos.

************

"What is the meaning of this?" Aragorn demanded, anticipating the order of his master.

"Barricade the doors," Arwen ignored his demand and instructed Darond behind her. "He is not himself, he has been placed under enchantment by the Easterling queen."

"I give the orders here," Aragorn boomed, stopping the captain of his guard in his tracks. "Do nothing that she says."

"This is not the time to doubt me Darond," Arwen returned sharply. "You know that I would never harm the king but you must believe me. He is under a spell and if you do not heed my words, we will never free him of it."

Darond stared at Aragorn and Arwen, wishing this choice could be made simpler but he knew his queen almost as well as his king and she was right, Darond would never believe that Arwen would do anything to harm the king. If Prince Legolas admitted that he was slave to a skin changer’s spell then there was no reason to believe that king was any less exempt. Protecting the king did not simply charge Darond to guard his person but also his mind.

"Follow the queen’s instructions!" He ordered his men. "Barricade the doors. No one leaves this room until we discern what is happening here."

"Castigliari, you traitor!" Ulfrain hissed in fury. "How dare you!"

"How dare you?" Castigliari barked back. "I serve your father and your grandfather. Have our people not bled enough serving darkness! You would plunge us back into the same slavery we had escaped when Sauron was destroyed! I will not serve a skin changer and neither will our people! You did this without our consent and that forfeit your right to lead us! Arrest him!"

"Do nothing that he says!" Ulfrain cried out impotently but unlike Aragorn, he did not have the unswerving dedication of his men that Castigliari did.

As the doors and were slammed shut behind them, Akallabeth let out a harsh scream and it sounded like the screech of animal. Next to Aragorn, the creature that wore Arwen’s shape changed shape and suddenly, the skin changers around them were revealed in all their dark reality. With skin like the scales of a lizard and yellow eyes filled with malevolence, they glared at those assembled with vengeance.

"Kill them all!" Akallabeth screamed and leapt over the table, heading straight for Arwen.

"Lothiriel," Arwen cried out, "stay close to me!"

The girl nodded wildly at the outbreak of violence as the Easterling entourage showed their true colours and began attacking the combined forces of Gondor and the Haradirim. Despite her fear and her helplessness at being unable to join the fight, her eyes were searching for her father. However, in all the pandemonium, he was difficult to see. She clutched her satchel close and prayed that he was not hurt in this melee though it was difficult to maintain such a hope when all she could see was the clanging of swords and cries of the injured as wounds were inflicted.

Lothiriel felt useless as she saw her companions engaging the enemy, while there was little she could do to help them. Across the floor, she saw Legolas was shooting arrows with a speed that almost seemed magical. Never once did he miss his target and the wound to his leg did little to hinder just how deadly his aim could be. Skin changers were screeching in agony as the shafts of his arrows were driven deep into their bodies. Melia showed similar proficiency with her crossbow although her skill was not as honed as her husband’s. She remained close to Legolas, ensuring no one could harm him while he was releasing his deadly barrage of arrows.

Eowyn on the other hand, was in the thick of the battle, her earlier wounds proving little hindrance as she faced the skin changers with a blade in her hand. Lothiriel had never seen a woman fight with the sword and she had marveled at just how skilled the Lady of Ithilien was with it. Eowyn simply did not swing wildly but rather used her whole body to fight, as if the business of swordplay was but a small part of the combat process. Suddenly, out of nowhere, Lothiriel felt a hand around her shoulder dragging her away from Arwen. She let out a small cry but by now, Arwen was too busy dealing with Akallabeth’s impending attack to be able to assist her in any way.

"Daughter," she found herself staring at Imrahil. Her father stared at her with eyes not unlike an animal, glowing with hatred. "This is your doing isn’t it?"

"Father, please let me go!" She cried as he began dragging her away from her friends.

"You are the one who is responsible for tainting the elf’s mind!" Imrahil accused. "Only you would know the dark arts well enough!"

"Father please," she begged at a loss of what to do. She wanted to fight him but he was her father and she dared not hurt him.

"Silence!" He roared and struck her hard.

When Lothiriel felt the knuckles and the explosion of pain that followed, something inside her snapped and she knew that this man was not her father and would not be again, until she freed him. Her fingers enclosed around the wooden frame of the chair she had staggered against when he delivered his blow and steeling herself for what had to be done, Lothiriel picked it and shattered it against her father’s body. Imrahil had no time to cry as the sturdy frame crumpled around him, wooden fragments and splinters raining around his ears as he was knocked unconscious.

Lothiriel hurried to his side after she had inflicted this harm upon him, examining him quickly to ensure that he was still alive and that she had not done irreparable injury to his person. A flood of relief moved through her body knowing that he still lived and what damage she had done would heal in time. This could not go on, she decided, her gaze moving across the room to see both Aragorn and Faramir approaching Eowyn at the same time. The dwarf Gimli was hacking his way through the guards of Gondor and Harad to reach Legolas and somewhere in this chaos, Eomer was no doubt contemplating how he would serve his masters.

She had to stop this before someone was killed. She was the only one who could.

Taking a deep breath, Lothiriel reached for her satchel, knowing what she had to do.

***********

Since this entire affair had unfolded incredibly before her eyes, the one thing she had been spared unlike Melia and Arwen, was the ordeal of facing the man she loved wearing the shackles of a skin changer’s control. Battling the skin changers was no easy matter and they changed their shape at will. One instance she was battling an Easterling dancer and at another she found herself staring at the Witch King of Angmar. Unfortunately for the skin changer, Eowyn had not been afraid of Sauron’s creature when she had faced him at Pelennor and it was no different when she was confronted with this facsimile.

However, now she faced an enemy she did not wish to confront.

Faramir stared at his wife and if it were not for the fact that his actions revealed his loyalties, Eowyn might have never have guessed that he was anything but the kind, gentle man that she had fallen in love with, the warrior with the heart of a scholar. He stared at her, sword in hand, not lifting it to fight but then he was always very different from Aragorn. Aragorn was a man who took charge of a situation immediately where else Faramir was one who took a step back and weighed alternatives before attacking. As he was doing so now.

"Are we really going to do this, my lady?" He asked her.

"I have no taste for it," Eowyn replied but her grip had not slackened around the hilt of her weapon. Over his shoulder she saw Aragorn coming towards them both and knew that she was lost if she had to fight both of them. "But I have no choice, I must defeat you to help you."

"I think you are mistaken on who needs aid here," Faramir stared at her with a merciless gaze that bore no trace of the man she loved.

"Please do not force me into this," Eowyn almost whispered, her heart anguished by the thought of raising a blade to him. "I do not wish to hurt you."

"You have hurt me," he retorted. "You hurt me when you chose to stand against me. I have endured your presumption in thinking yourself equal to a man, I have endured your ignorance of what place a wife is to occupy in her husband’s house and most of all I have endured you, Eowyn, who came to me after being rejected by another. Did you not think I did not know?"

"That is not true," Eowyn struggled to defend herself because she could not deny that she had once loved Aragorn.

"I am no fool," he glared at her. "I know it is the truth."

Eowyn was trying not to let his words affect her but there as always a small part of her that questioned her reason for turning to Faramir in the days following Pelennor. Had she chosen to bestow her love upon him because she loved him or because Aragorn had rejected her? Though she now loved her husband with all her heart, that tiny fragment of guilt had remained in her heart, relentless in its determination to plague her innermost thoughts.

"I love you Faramir," Eowyn gave the only answer she could under the circumstances. "Perhaps it was once true that I loved the king but it has not been that way since you entered my life. If you were in possession of your thoughts, you would know that this is true. I have adored you since the day my heart discovered you and that will not change, no matter what the poison in your mind may lead you to believe."

For an instant, it seemed as if her words affected him for his face showed his uncertainty, however the power of the enchantment was too strong for him to resist for very long.

"Yield your sword to me and I will forgive you," he said, his expression hardening once more.

Eowyn closed her eyes and drew a deep breath before she answered, "you will have to come take it from me husband."

"As you wish," Faramir replied and raised his sword to strike.

Eowyn met his blade with her own and while she found herself in the impossible situation of having to fight her husband, her instincts for self preservations came to bear and she knew that it was not in her, to endure defeat. She parried hard, watching his side step her sharp thrust before riposting in return. They matched each other blow for blow, although she was fighting not to kill him. Faramir however, had no such reservations because the shape shifter’s spell upon him had turned his wife into a mortal enemy.

"Faramir, please!" Eowyn beseeched him, aware that they were reaching a point of no return. "I do not wish to hurt you!"

"Oh Eowyn you are a delight," he sneered, smashing his blade against hers with such force that the sound of steel filled her ears before she felt his fist enclose around the hand holding her sword. Before she could wrench herself free, she was being pulled forward and suddenly, a balled fist connected with the side of her face. Stunned, she tried to recover but his grip upon her was strong and she did the only think she could, she kicked out. Her foot slammed into his knee, bringing him down in one swift movement. He had both their weapons now and Eowyn snatched the first thing she saw from a nearby table. Her own rage inspired because of the situation, Eowyn swung the pitcher across Faramir’s face. The ceramic shattered when it impacted against his skull, spraying fluid and fragments in all directions.

Faramir cursed loudly as he was temporarily blinded by the spirits in his eyes when Eowyn dropped and swung out her leg in an arch, sweeping his feet from under him and bringing him down against the floor with a loud thud. The sound of his skull against the stone made her flinch but he did not rise again. Breathing hard and fearful that she might have hurt him seriously, she rushed to his side. Fortunately, he was merely unconscious. Reaching for her weapon in his grip, she was about to pick it up when suddenly a boot came down hard against the blade, crushing against to the floor. Eowyn looked up and found herself staring at Aragorn.

"Well met my lady," he said with a little smile. "Shall we dance?"

**********

Melia counted the number of bolts she had remaining for her crossbow and knew that eventually, she would have to find an alternate means of defending herself. Legolas who was the only person she knew capable of using the long bow in such confined surrounding had no difficulty. He never missed and thus every arrow he released met its mark. She had been covering his back while he made short work of the enemy but now Melia saw that there was someone else who had greater need of assistance than her able husband.

"Prince!" She cried out, "Eowyn needs help."

Legolas followed her gaze and saw the shield maiden of Rohan about to do battle with Aragorn. Having stood in battle with the king for longer than any human here had been alive, Legolas knew that Eowyn was outmatched and in the condition that he was in, Aragorn was perfectly capable of killing her. The prince had seen the outcome of her recent encounter with Aragorn and Legolas would not see Eowyn suffer in that manner again.

"I will deal with this," Legolas replied brushing past his wife. He was possibly the only one present capable of dealing with Aragorn in his present state.

"Are you certain?" She asked, fearful for him because she had seen Aragorn in combat and knew how ruthless he could be.

Legolas did not answer her because he was already rushing to Eowyn’s aid. Melia stared after him a moment before she heard a familiar battle cry and found herself facing a new peril.

Gimli was making short work of the Easterling guards who were uncertain how to deal with his fury of his attacks. During their quest to Nargothrond, Melia had opportunity to see the dwarf in battle and knew that his size had very little to do with ability. The axe was covered in the blood of enemies and as he swung it with expert precision, using his size to his advantage, Melia knew that without something more substantial then crossbow she was carrying, there was no way to defeat him. She did not wish to harm Gimli because Melia’s shared her husband’s affection for the dwarf but she had to stop him.

"Where is he?" Gimli glowered as he caught sight of her. "Where is that treacherous elf!"

"Master Gimli you are not yourself," Melia tried to reason with him, "unfortunately, I am not going to fight you."

"Stand aside lady," Gimli retorted. "My business is with your husband."

"I was afraid you might say that," Melia sighed and raised her crossbow. Without saying another word, she unleashed a bolt that struck the dwarf in the right shoulder, above the juncture where his arm met his body.

Gimli let out an enraged cry as his hand released his axe, allowing the heavy blade to clattered noisily to the ground. His arm hung limply at his side as he rushed towards her and Melia armed herself again, unhappy that it would require one more shot to incapacitate him. This time the steel bolt tore into the dwarf’s knee, cutting short his charge and dropping him immediately to the floor.

"Easterling witch!" He cursed as he hugged his injured leg.

"I am sorry," Melia sighed staring at the dwarf, "but you will thank me for this later."

She hoped.

*************

Customarily, Lothiriel would have preferred to conduct her spell of unmaking under better circumstances however at this moment, it appeared her choices were limited. Crawling under a table, she hoped she could remain hidden while she attempted to carry out the spell. Despite her anxiety at attempting to perform complex invocations in such surroundings, Lothiriel was determined to free the minds of those enchanted by the shape shifter spell before more blood was spilled. Acting against her father in the manner she had done, was an experience Lothiriel would not wish upon any one. Her rage was properly provoked for being forced into such a position and her success with Legolas made her determined to free the others as well.

Laying out the ingredients she needed to carry out the spell, Lothiriel hoped she could remain unnoticed long enough to complete it. Certainly, the minute she began chanting the invocation, the skin changers could become aware of what she was up to. At this moment however, they considered her little more than a frightened child and it was this perception that kept her safe so far. The fact that they had no suspicion that she was the one carrying out the spell ensured that Lothiriel would be able to perform this latest feat of conjuring without interference.

Now that everything was in place, she closed her eyes and began to recite the words, determined to end this nightmare once and for all. However, her chant was cut short as the table above her was flung aside and Lothiriel realized that nightmare was just beginning when standing before her was Eomer.

**********

Upon seeing Aragorn before her, Eowyn gave up any thought of retrieving her weapon and scrambled away from the king, determined to gain a precious few seconds so that she could think of a way to best defend herself. Her last encounter with Aragorn had taught Eowyn one thing; he was the superior warrior. It did not mean that she was any less a person but Aragorn had become who he was in legend and in history because of his skills. She admired him for what he was and knew that he was a strong force of nobility and courage in a world that needed such qualities desperately. The spell had turned all that purity into a thing of darkness and she hated the skin changers for that most of all.

"Lady Eowyn," Legolas Greenleaf appeared from behind her, "stand aside."

As much as Eowyn wanted to fight her own battles, in this instance she had no choice but to withdraw. It would be trial enough facing Aragorn on her own without the added burden of trying not to hurt him seriously when he was not bound by such considerations. If anyone could match the king and possibly defeat him without permanent harm, then it was Legolas. Eowyn was grateful for his interference though she did not envy him having to face his best friend in battle. She turned her back upon both of them and caught sight of something that sent her running.

************

"You would fight me Legolas?" Aragorn stared hard at the prince after Eowyn had left them.

"I would fight you to save you from yourself Aragorn," Legolas said fearlessly. He had picked up Faramir’s sword and held it up in readiness to fend off any attack from Aragorn.

"I am completely myself old friend," Aragorn returned, "it is you who are not yourself. The Legolas I knew would never stand against me in a fight."

"The Aragorn I know would never willingly draw his sword against a lady," Legolas returned coolly, "or strike one as you have. It is not your way to be a brutalizer of women Aragorn. Deep inside of you, you must know that."

"I know nothing except my friend is betraying me!" Aragorn hissed but his anger seemed provoked by Legolas’ words, as if what the prince had said had struck too close to home. Legolas blocked the strike easily and kicked out, landing the ball of his foot squarely against Aragorn’s sternum. The king reeled backwards and Legolas took the offensive, using his elven reflexes to gain the advantage. Even injured, he was still a match for Aragorn.

"I would never betray you Aragorn," Legolas swung his blade at the king who barely had time to block the blade. "You and I have faced things together these past sixty years than most could never even dream in a life time. We owe each other our lives, a dozen times over! Do you honestly think that I would betray you? I stood by you when you were a Ranger and I stand by you still, while you are king. We have battled the forces of darkness together Aragorn! If I have a brother in this world, it would surely be you."

"Be quiet!" Aragorn hissed and there was a hint of desperation in his voice as he made that demand, as if he were pleading for Legolas to stop. Anduril was swinging wildly before him "You are trying to confuse me! Just like Arwen!"

"She loves you!" Legolas returned. "How can you even question that? Do you have any idea what she sacrificed to love you? Think Aragorn! Fight the blackness in your heart that makes you think that she could ever raise a finger against you!"

"I will not listen to you!" Aragorn cried out again but the cracks in his voice were beginning to reveal themselves.

Legolas’ words had far more effect upon the king than his blade. Legolas could see Aragorn struggling against the spell’s hold upon him. However, whether or not the king was strong enough to break the enchantment was another thing entirely.

*********

"Melia!" Eowyn shouted across the room, capturing the attention of the former Ranger who was tending to Gimli’s wound and ensuring that he posed no danger to himself or anyone else, following their confrontation.

The battle was slowly tipping in the favor of the guards fighting valiantly to purge both their respective kingdoms of the skin changer menace. However casualties were mounting and the floor of the banquet hall, which only hours ago had been a place of celebration was now littered with bodies of both enemy and ally. Still, none of the blood spilled by Gondor or Harad would mean anything if the minds of their leaders were still enslaved by Akallabeth’s spell. Until now, the skin changers had no idea who it was had thwarted their hold over Legolas Greenleaf and in their unknowing, could not act against the spell caster who had the power to destroy their plans. Unfortunately, as Eowyn hurried towards her brother, standing over Lothiriel, it appeared that it was a secret no more.

"Eomer!" Eowyn shouted, taking his attention away from her brother as she flung herself at him.

Both siblings tumbled to the floor, with Lothiriel clearly shaken by her discovery. As Eomer reeled from his hard landing, Eowyn looked over her shoulder and discerned quickly what Lothiriel had been planning to do.

"Keep going!" She ordered as her body covered Eomer’s, both hands pinning his shoulders to the floor. "Melia, protect her!"

"No one will get past me!" Melia declared as she reached Lothiriel and took up position to guard the girl or die trying. Her crossbow was armed and ready while her eyes watchful of the danger. "Do as she says!" Melia retorted, "continue the spell!"

Lothiriel nodded and shook her head to clear herself of all thoughts that might distract her from her purpose. She used the image of Eomer and the menace she had seen in his eyes to strengthen her resolve and focus herself. Lothiriel was determined to free him. She wanted him back the way he was. She wanted back the man who had sworn never to force her into anything, who made her laugh and accepted her as more than just a beauty or a prize but as a person with dreams of her own. Since that moment, Lothiriel had felt her heart slowly succumbing to him and though she would not claim to love him just yet, she was not far away from it either.

Hardening herself against the distractions around her, Lothiriel resumed her invocation of the spell. She knew the words by memory alone and as she poured heart and soul into its recital, she felt the stirrings of power. It coursed through her veins like an elixir warming her body as her words became more fevered. Burst of energy cackled throughout the room, leaving a stench in its wake that was not unlike the embers from a spirited fireplace. She could see the threads before her, faint, filament looking things, not unlike the webs spun by spiders. In her mind’s eye, they began to tighten, as if an unseen hand was pulling at it.

Across the banquet hall, Lothiriel was not the only one who could feel it.

********** 

"Let me up!" Eomer demanded, struggling hard as Eowyn did everything that she could to keep her brother pinned to the ground. However, he was not only bigger than her but also far stronger and her attempts to keep him restrained were faltering with each effort he made to break free.

"No!" Eowyn shouted, struggling hard to keep him down but the exercise was exhausting and he was almost frenzied in his desperation to be rid of her. "You are a danger to everyone around you!"

"The only danger is that witch!" Eomer barked. "She will kill us all with her dark magic!"

"Better dead than leave you in this condition," Eowyn retorted, feeling as if she were astride a rather uncooperative stallion.

Unfortunately, Eomer did not seem to agree and threw his head back sharply, connecting with Eowyn’s lower jaw. The blow stunned Eowyn momentarily, allowing her brother to throw her off his body. Eowyn tumbled to the floor and saw Eomer quickly getting to his feet. By now, every shape shifter in the room was aware of what Lothiriel was doing and like Eomer, were attempting to reach the young lady of Dol Amroth. Melia was unleashing her bolts at every one of the creatures who attempted to interrupt the young woman while she conducted the spell.

"EOMER!" Eowyn shouted as she ran after him.

"Stay out of this sister!" Eomer warned, shooting her a scathing glare as he did so.

"I am afraid I cannot!" Eowyn wrapped her arms around his chest and pulled back. Eomer swore in outrage before propelling himself against the wall. Eowyn saw the wall rushing towards her and could do nothing but release her hold of him. Her sharp drop interfered his ungainly retreat and they both toppled over in an unruly tangle of limbs.

Eowyn braced herself to resume their fight when suddenly, Eomer rolled onto his back and began screaming.

************

Throughout the banquet hall, the room began to fill with the sound of screaming. Agonized cries of pain exceeded the sounds of battle and while some still battled, others looked about them in confusion. Even Imrahil and Faramir who had been unconscious were driven to wakefulness by the pain that coursed through them. Gimli who was bound, struggled against his ropes as he was visited by agony far greater than the injuries sustained during his confrontation with Melia.

Legolas stared at Aragorn who was on his knees, resisting the need to scream because even when he was under the power of a shape shifter, there was a part of him that would always remain Aragorn and that part loathed to admit weakness. Legolas could see his face contorting with excruciating pain, biting down while it coursed through his body as the spell of unmaking exerted itself upon him. Anduril had fallen out of his grip and eventually the white-hot agony tore the scream from him that Aragorn had fought so hard not to utter.

Legolas was torn between rushing to his friend’s aid and letting the spell carry out its purpose. He remembered little of how the spell had released him since the memory of his enslavement was an uncertain fog in his mind. His eyes swept across the room and saw the rest of his friends enduring similar torment. Eowyn was standing over her brother, her lovely face showing her anguish at seeing him in such a state. Gimli was lying on his back, writhing in agony as the spell did its worst and Legolas shared Eowyn’s feeling of helplessness.

Suddenly, Aragorn convulsed and with a tremendous heave, expelled something dark and fetid from the pit of his stomach. It spilled out of him like blood, escaping his mouth and creating a foul puddle on the floor beneath his lips. This grisly scene was repeated across the room as Faramir, Imrahil, Gimli and Eomer were similarly freed. Lothiriel fell forward on her hands and knees, barely able to keep from being rendered unconscious after the tremendous strain she had just endured to complete the spell. Legolas could see rivulets of blood running down her nose and was glad to see Melia tending to the young woman.

"Aragorn," Legolas went to his friend’s side after long last.

Aragorn, amazingly enough, was still lucid. He was on all fours, breathing hard like an animal that had been chased across the world.

"Aragorn," the prince dropped to one knee beside the king. "Are you alright?"

Aragorn’s body was trembling in the wake of being released from that terrible spell but slowly, he raised his head and peered at Legolas through the tendrils of sweat drenched hair….

*************

"Evenstar!" Akallabeth said the word like the snarl from a crazed animal.

Arwen and the former Easterling queen battled each other in a duel that seemed to go on forever. Akallabeth was determined to kill her, blaming Arwen for all the misfortunes that had befallen the race of skin changers since the destruction of Glaurung at Nargothrond. The skin changer’s tactic was to change shape often and Arwen found herself facing a multitude of villains, from orcs to Nazgul. It had even taken on the form of Elrond at one point of the battle, trying to confuse her.

However, Arwen kept her wits about her and despite her focus on the enemy, she could see the other skin changers around them falling to the sword of Easterling and Gondorian soldiers, not to mention her own companions. The skin changers were slowly being defeated and now with the completion of Lothiriel’s spell of unmaking, their plans to take over Middle earth lay in ruins. Unfortunately, Akallabeth was not about to concede defeat, without first exacting a bloody display of spite.

"Twice you have brought ruin to my people!" Akallabeth hissed while breathing hard like a panting animal.

"Your people deserve nothing less!" Arwen retaliated with just as much venom. "You serve the darkness and you seek to turn that which is not bathed in evil to stink as vilely as you do. You think I was going to let Glaurung destroy my child before he was even born? Do you think that I would allow you to ruin the peace so many had shed in blood to build!"

"It is a peace you will never enjoy!" Akallabeth screamed. "My people may be defeated after this day but I intend to see that you die with us!"

Arwen wasted no time and swung her blade at the creature who leapt backwards to avoid the swing with surprising agility. The shape of the beast altered again and instead of facing another face from the past, Arwen now found herself standing in front of a snarling warg, with fangs bared and ready to tear her apart. The beast glared at her with yellow eyes and retreated one step in order to make a running leap before pouncing on her. There was barely enough time for Arwen to raise her sword before it sprang like a coiled serpent.

The weight of its landing against her body sent Arwen reeling backwards. She barely managed to maintain her grip upon her sword. Hitting her head hard against the stone floor as she fell, Arwen felt a wave of disorientation as she reeled from the impact. However, there was no time for her to recover because she could smell its fetid breath against her neck. She blinked in time to see its teeth coming for her throat and smashed the hilt of her sword against its flank. The beast howled loudly and Arwen took advantage of its pain to throw the skin changer from her body. She got to her knees in time to see creature scrambling to its feet, preparing to launch itself at her in a renewed assault.

"Prepare to meet your doom she elf!" The unholy voice of Akallabeth escaped the warg’s mouth before it pounced again.

Arwen prepared to meet the creature with her sword when suddenly, another blade sliced through the air and pierced the flank of the creature. The blade forged in the elvish way continued its forceful drive, burying itself to the hilt within the coarse pelt and emerging through the opposite flank of the beast. A final, agonized shriek tore through the air before the creature fell against the stone in a sickening crunch of sound. Blood splattered in all directions upon impact and in death, the shape of the warg melted away to that of the skin changer’s true form.

"Undomiel," Arwen recovered enough to hear her name being called.

She looked up and saw Aragorn standing before her, his expression one of exhaustion and weariness. It was an effort for him to even remain standing. Upon meeting her eyes, Aragorn outstretched his hand towards her.

"I do not deserve you wife," he said in short, exhausted breaths.

Arwen thought her heart might break from relief as she took his hand and allowed herself to be pulled into his embrace. Only when Aragorn’s wrapped his arms around her and held her close, did Arwen find the strength enough to speak.

"I am glad you are aware of this," she whispered, relishing the feel of being in his arm once again. "You have no idea what I have endured this day for you."

"How could I forget?" he swallowed and Arwen could feel his tears against her skin. "You are all that is precious in my life, I would rather die than hurt you. I wished I could have, to spare you my sins this day."

"You remember?" She looked at him, not expecting that.

"No," he shook his head. "But I can feel it. I can still what their poison made me do." There was anger in his eyes but there also intense sorrow.

Arwen looked at her husband and knew though he was responsible for nothing that transpired this day and could barely remember what he had done, he would not be free of it for a long time.

Perhaps Akallabeth had revenge after all.

Epilogue
Guilt

When Lothiriel regained consciousness, she did so possessing the worst headache imaginable. 

Through the pounding in her head, she could hear the distant voice of Melia asking somewhat anxiously if she was all well. It took a few moments before she recovered her senses enough to answer the woman. Dazed, Lothiriel opened her eyes and lifted her gaze to see the former ranger kneeling at her side with an expression of concern on her face. She did not realise that Melia had repeated herself several times already and was growing more apprehensive by her continued lack of response.

“Lothiriel!” Melia took a more direct approach this time, since nothing else was rousing the girl out of her unconscious state, and took to shaking her slightly.  “Please speak!”

“I am unhurt,” the young woman finally muttered, acknowledging the ranger’s question finally and drawing an corresponding sigh of relief from Melia as she added further,  “my head feels as if it is ready to fall away my neck but I suffer nothing that will not heal in time.”

“That is good to know,” Melia sighed, clearly relieved by Lothiriel’s ability to speak for herself.   There was a streak of blood running down Lothiriel’s nose, which had heightened Melia’s fears for her safety after the conjuring of such a complex spell.   She had put herself at considerable risk to accomplish her role in their plan and Melia did not wish to see her hurt after such a feat of courage.

“Did it work?” Lothiriel asked abruptly suddenly remembering that they had been in the midst of a battle when she had fallen unconscious. The fog over her brain had lifted over her mind and Lothiriel was quick to realise that she was uncertain at whether or not her spell was successful.

Melia’s gaze shifted away from the young lady of Dol Amroth and came to rest upon Arwen and Aragorn locked in a tight embrace where it appeared as if they might never let go. The king and queen seemed to be in a world of their own as they held each other close with Arwen burying her face in the crook of Aragorn’s shoulder.  Melia had no doubt that at this moment, the events of the past few hours were overcoming the queen and she was drawing what comfort she could from her husband’s arms.  

Melia herself felt the urge to find Legolas who was directing the Gondorian soldiers to remove the dead skin changers from the hall. She would do so once she was certain that Lothiriel was all right.  After all, none of this would be possible if it had not been for the young woman’s ability to weave magic.

“Yes, it worked,” she smiled turning back to Lothiriel. “It worked wonderfully.”

Lothiriel stared at Melia and saw the ranger’s admiration for her and felt a surge of emotion coursing through her.  Finally, she had conjured a spell that had worked! What was more had helped them all in a time of crisis. Even if nothing she ever conjured after this day went as it was meant to, Lothiriel was happy that for a brief moment of time, she had been a true mistress of magic. 

“I am so glad,” she replied, blinking back the tears of happiness. “I was so afraid I would fail you all.”

“You are remarkable Lothiriel,” Melia smiled touching her cheek, “and if I have to beg Pallando myself, I will do everything I can to see that you have your lessons in magic.”

“Thank you,” Lothiriel swallowed and then remembered something else, “my father!”

The young woman immediately scrambled to her feet with far more speed then Melia thought her capable of in her condition.  She hurried to Imrahil who was being helped to his feet by Captain Darond.  He was still unconscious from her attack and Lothiriel prayed that she had not injured her in her efforts to escape him earlier.

“Why does my father not awaken?” she demanded frantically.

“My lady, he is but merely concussed I suspect,” Darond explained as another soldier held the girl back so that they could take the Prince of Dol Amroth to the house of healing to be treated for his injuries.  “Let us take him to the house of healing and see to it that he is tended. I promise you, he will be fine.”

“Are you sure?” She stared at the captain of the guard, almost imploringly.  “I could not bear it if I was responsible for harming him.”

”My lady you freed him,” Darond answered, aware now that it was Lothiriel who had broken the terrible enchantment over the king and the ruling council of Middle earth.  “I think that even if you were responsible for his being in this state, he would be proud and grateful nonetheless.”

Lothiriel smiled gratefully at the soldier but chose to withdraw so that he and the others could take her father to be treated for his wounds.  Besides, there was one other person here that worried her almost as much as her father, though her feelings for him were of an entirely different nature.  She searched the banquet, moving past the destruction of the battle and the carnage of those left behind in its wake to see Eomer sitting up shakily.  He appeared rather dazed, although the grimace he produced a short time later indicated that he was suffering exhaustion and lingering pain from his violent ejection of Akallabeth’s poison from inside him.

She approached him cautiously; uncertain at how she was to approach him. Her first impulse was to be at his side as Eowyn was with Faramir, coaxing her husband from his unconscious state, however their relationship was too new for such a forward display of affection.   She lowered herself to her knees in front of him, wishing to do something to help because he appeared so very exhausted.  His face was covered in a fine sheet of sweat and his hands were still shaking from the pain he had been forced to endure in the wake of the spell.

“Lord Eomer,” Lothiriel announced herself before him, “you should come with me to the house of healing.  You have suffered a terrible ordeal.”

“What has happened here?” Eomer asked, his eyes searching the banquet hall and finding no answers, only mystifying scenes of a battle on a day that was supposed to be a celebration of peace.

“It will take too long to explain,” she dared coming closer to him. “I would see you to the house of healing before I attempt to explain it to you.”

“I have no doubt,” he replied softly, seeing Melia and Legolas helping Gimli to his feet. The dwarf was bleeding and appeared to be rather disgruntled by the fact that he was injured but having no memory of the fight that caused it.  “I had a terrible dream I cannot remember but its memory fills me with unease. I feel as if I have disappointed you though I don’t understand how.”

“It is a dream ended,” Lothiriel smiled as she basked in his gaze upon her. If anything told her that all was well, it was the effect of that penetrating gaze upon her.   “You are here with me now and what is done was not your fault. You could not disappoint me if you tried, my king. You have not disappointed me since you entered my life.”

“I think I am rather confused by this show of affection but I am not complaining,” he stared at her with a brow raised. He was not so fatigued that he could not react in surprise to the emotion he saw in her eyes, emotion that was real and for him.  The realisation of it made his breath catch in his throat though his heart was suddenly beating a good deal faster.

“We have plenty of time to talk about what has transpired and perhaps we will talk about our future together as well.  I think if you are agreeable, I should like to know you further, my king.” Lothiriel replied with a little smile and was impulsively emboldened enough to brush her lips gently against his.

He was so surprised that at first he did not register the kiss but when the silken lips touched his, Eomer’s senses awakened enough to return the gesture and his head spun at how wonderful she tasted. Their kiss was only for a fraction of time but it was enough for Eomer to know that the elusive feeling he had sought, the one so envied when seen between his sister and her husband, was filling his veins with its tonic.

“I think I should like that very much, lady of Dol Amroth,” Eomer smiled and allowed her to help him to his feet, having this strange feeling that she was going to be at his side a great deal more in the future.

*************

Eowyn saw Eomer and Lothiriel engaging in their moment together and felt a warm feeling suffuse her being knowing that her brother was at last finding the happiness he deserved. She regarded Faramir, whose head was cradled in her lap as she dabbed gently the wound she had inflicted upon him during the battle.  He was not quite conscious yet but the gentle feel of cool water upon his injury was rapidly bringing him out of his slumber.  She was grateful that he would be robbed of the memory of what had happened because his behaviour was borne out of Akallabeth’s evil spell.  She knew her husband well and it would prey on him deeply what he had done.  She knew that it would almost certainly be the case for Aragorn.

Eowyn bore no malice for the king even though her broken ribs still ached and the bruises he had inflicted on him would be difficult to hide.  She knew the kind of man Aragorn was and even if he was not himself when he hurt her, he would no doubt feel responsible.  Fortunately, Eowyn’s confrontation with Faramir was nowhere that brutal although she had a new found respect for both her husband and her king after facing them in battle.  She had always known that Faramir was a great warrior but until she fought him herself, had not realised just how formidable he was.

She felt him shift in her lap and paused her gentle dabbing immediately.  His head had been tilted to the side allowing her access but soon he faced forward and met her gaze. His eyes showed his disorientation was rapidly passing as his brows furrowed in concern.

”What has happened to your face?” He asked as his focus allowed him to see the bruises on his wife’s lovely skin.

“It is a long story,” she smiled, brushing a strand of hair from his face in affection, not realising until this moment how good it was to have him look at her with love.

“Give me the abridged version,” he said firmly, not about to be deterred when he was faced with such injuries to the woman he loved.

Eowyn sighed, “Faramir, this is not the time.”

Faramir forced himself to sit up and noted for the first time that he was extremely weak and that his head was throbbing in pain. An exploratory feel behind the back of his skull proved that he had been involved in some kind of incident and when he looked around the banquet hall, noting the bodies that were being cleared away and the wreckage within the room, he guessed that it might well be a long story.

“Are those skin changers they are taking away?” He stared at her in question as he saw the guards removing corpses.

“Yes,” she nodded, smiling at him as he bombarded her with questions.  Her heart was warm with delight because this was her husband, a warrior with the heart of a scholar who was always filled with questions.

Faramir’s brow knotted once more at another realisation, “We were drinking a toast to the treaty.”

“It was a very a bad toast,” Eowyn replied sweeping her eyes around the floor, “this is the result.”

“Legolas did not get drunk and recite his poetry again, did he?” Faramir asked. “That alone could put us at war with the Easterlings.”

Eowyn laughed slightly, aware that her husband often used humour to hide his anxiety at situations where he was uncertain or fearful.  It was a dry sardonic wit that Eowyn herself shared which was why they loved each other so much. 

“I love you, you know,” she said after giving him a long and thoughtful look.

“I love you too but I would like to know what has happened here,” Faramir stared back at her.  “I did not do that to you did I?” He asked hesitantly, fearful of her answer.

“No,” she shook her head in answer.

“Then why do I feel like I almost lost you?” He replied, clearly troubled by the feelings that were emerging inside him despite his lack of memory.  “I feel my heart beating as if you and I were in some great peril that has now passed.”

“We were,” she could not lie to him about that. “But it has passed and you are mine again.”

For the first time since this all began, she allowed the tough mask to slip from her face and the full torrent of emotion at having her love returned to her, the way she always knew him, made her eyes glisten with tears. 

“There was never really any doubt of that my lady,” Faramir answered, sweeping her body into an embrace because she suddenly seemed to need one.

“I know,” Eowyn whispered as she allowed herself to be taken into his arms. “It is just nice to know.”

************

After Legolas had allowed Melia and a guard to see Gimli to the house of healing, the Prince of Mirkwood sought out the Easterling general.  During the course of the battle, he had lost sight of Castigliari whose main concern at the time was the arrest of his king Ulfrain.  When the skin changers had exposed themselves and the room had descended into the pandemonium of battle, Castigliari had vanished from sight and Legolas hoped that he had survived the conflict unharmed.  Dealing with Castigliari as the leader of the Haradirim would be less arduous then dealing with Ulfrain’s whose deception would make the continued alliance difficult to maintain.

He found Castigliari near the door to the banquet hall, standing around a body with the remains of the guards.  Before Legolas reached him, the elf had some idea of what had transpired if the looks of grim disquiet on their faces were any indication. His suspicion was confirmed when he saw Ulfrain’s body lying on the floor, his life’s blood pooled under him.  The Easterling king was staring into nothingness as the gaping wound in his chest revealed the reason for his demise.

Castigliari looked up at Legolas’ approach and the prince could see the general sincere anguish that circumstances had brought them to this point in time.

”He refused to yield his sword,” Castigliari said quietly, “he gave no other choice.”

“I am sorry,” Legolas placed a hand on the man’s shoulder in some effort to comfort him. However, Castigliari was a soldier who had served a king for most of his life.  Being forced to turn against that conditioning was not easy to do and even worse when forced into a situation such as the one that faced him when Ulfrain threw in his lot with the skin changers.

“I served his father for most of his life and I prayed that the son would be equal to him but I was so terribly wrong.  When he chose to bring Akallabeth with him to Minas Tirith, I knew something was wrong because it was not usually done.  We leave our women at home, especially the queen, when we are venturing into lands that were once enemy territory.  He was so insistent and I thought foolishly, that it was because she was so beautiful that he could not bear to be without her.  I was so wrong.”

“It is not your fault General,” Ramariz spoke up, “you did what had to be done. You saved our people from another dark menace.”

“What will you do now?” Legolas asked, not referring simply to the king’s body.

Castigliari let out a deep sigh, thinking of the long journey home and the consequences of all this that awaited them there, “we will return home with our king.”

This declaration was met with approval from the rest of the Easterlings who nodded in agreement or murmured their support of the general’s plan.  Legolas hoped the treaty was not in tatters after all the work they had expended making it become a reality.  Despite Ulfrain’s dark intentions, the notion of a treaty had been a good one and Legolas hoped that Aragorn’s hard work was not left in ruins in the wake of this deception.

“I know these are shallow words in the wake of this tragedy but the treaty between the Easterlings the Westernese was a good one that should continue despite Ulfrain’s ulterior motives. It is time that the race of men come together for mutual benefit.  Too long, have your peoples existed apart and has led to war and destruction for both sides. Please do not let the dream of peace die because of Ulfrain’s deception.”

Castigliari nodded and met Legolas’ gaze following that impassioned plea from what he had considered a rather mercurial elf, “if it is all possible that some good comes of this, I will see it done by my life and my honour.”

“I am glad to hear that,” Legolas replied with a smile and hope that things did indeed come to pass as they hoped. 

The Haradirim and the rest of the Easterling people were mysteries that were suddenly becoming familiar to them and one thing was clear after this affair with the skin changers, was that they were not all that different from the race of men that Legolas was familiar with. Given time and empathy that Aragorn had tried so hard to show, it might be possible to one day consider them friends, not merely uneasy allies.

**************

In the wake of the celebration, only the palace knew of the affair that had almost broken the kingdoms of Middle earth.  Following the battle, the skin changers were removed from the presence of the court, taken outside the walls of Citadel and burned.  It was possible that some escaped but it was impossible to tell for certain since there was so much pandemonium during the course of the fighting and it was easy enough for one or two to slip away unseen.  That was after all, their specific talent, to blend into the background and disappear. 

The Easterlings chose not to remain long in the palace of the Gondorian king and took little more than a day to organise themselves before they were ready for departure.  Despite his treachery, the body of Ulfrain was treated for the journey back to Harad where he would be the afforded the ceremonial funeral for a head of state.  Castigliari had felt that that it was the least he could do to honour the memory of the father by giving the son a proper burial. However, he could not promise how the news of what transpired in Minas Tirith would be received in Harad.  What made things even more uncertain was the fact that Ulfrain had left no heir and Castigliari suspected that his people were due for some difficult times while a clear line of succession could be established.

The general himself had no wish for power for he was still in essence, a soldier.

Within a few days of their departure, the king’s men accompanied by Legolas was able to find Nunaur and Ioreth on their way to East Lorien and inform them that the danger to the throne was no more.  With steadfast assurances that his mind was his own and with Nunaur still vary until the march warden was standing face to face with the Evenstar, the group returned to Minas Tirith with Eldarion. The two travellers had done well in keeping the little prince safe, having left the White City by way of the Anduin and remaining on its waters to avoid detection from agents of Akallabeth.

Arwen was delighted to have her child back in her arms and her son seemed equally pleased to return to his mother. His safe return brought a smile from his father’s face though it did not remain for long.  Unfortunately, it would take more than Eldarion’s safety to assuage Aragorn’s guilt over what had happened. 

Since he had regained his senses, Aragorn had descended into a pit of melancholy that was very unlike him and of a kind that Arwen had never seen before.  Arwen had known Aragorn for almost sixty years when he had first cast his eyes upon her and thought that she was a dream of Luthien. She knew all his moods and it pained her to see him this way.  What had taken place was not his fault and though she tried hard to convince him of this fact, the king would not absolve himself of his culpability.

He had taken to locking himself in his study, seeing no one as he came to terms with his guilt but after two weeks of such behaviour, Arwen had reached the end of her patience.  She knew that Imrahil was feeling similar feelings towards his daughter but was consoled by the fact that she did not blame him and had skill enough to save not only her father but all the leaders of Gondor.  Faramir had spent every moment at Eowyn’s side, revelling in each other’s company as if they were newlyweds again in an effort to make it up to his wife for his behaviour.  The same could be said for Legolas and Melia.  The lord and lady of Eden Ardhon were also busy playing chaperone to Lothrieil and Eomer whose affection for each other was growing intensely, when they were not checking to see Gimli’s progress in the house of healing that is.

Arwen entered the study and found her king exactly where she had left him, in his chair staring out the window but seeing nothing but his own guilt at his conduct.  She let out a heavy sigh and knew that she had to do something even if it would most likely end with them screaming at each other.  She supposed screaming was a better alternative then watching him eat himself away with guilt.

“This sulking does not become you Estel,” she remarked as she stood before him.

“I do not sulk,” he muttered, unable to meet her gaze when she made the accusation.

“Then what would you call it?” She demanded.

”I am reflecting on things,” he answered her feebly. “I need to evaluate my conduct in this business.”

“Your conduct was not at fault,” she pointed out. “You were under a spell, a spell I might add affected everyone else in the room with you.”

“I am king,” he stared at her sharply, some measure of fire returning to his voice at that statement. “I could have destroyed the whole of Middle earth because I could not fight that terrible spell.”

“Yes you are king,” she changed her position so that he would have to look directly at her because Arwen intended to have this out once and for all. “However, the last time I looked upon you, I was fairly certain that you were a man as well and if I am not mistaken, men are not invincible.”

“That is not an excuse Undomiel!” He stood abruptly and brushed past her and went to the window, “I almost had you killed!”

“Yes you did,” Arwen could not deny that. “But it was not you who gave that order, it was a skin changer who bore me a great deal of malice after what transpired at Nargothrond, a skin changer who used a spell to bend your will to hers. I do not blame you for that Estel. If I did, I would not have gone through what I did to see you returned to me.”

Aragorn turned to her and she saw the depth of his remorse by the pained expression on his face, “I hurt you Undomiel, I hurt you and I almost allowed our son to be used as a hostage to creature of darkness and evil.  I saw what I did to Eowyn; I could have killed her with my bare hands! If Melia had not interrupted me, I might have!”

“Aragorn!” Arwen took his face in her hands when he started to rant. “It is not your fault. Eowyn holds you no more responsible than I do.  It was a spell! Do you think we know it in our hearts that you are capable of acting in such a manner? Please,” she begged, her eyes filling with tears because it tore at her heart to see him in such anguish. “Do not let Akallabeth win this way.”

“I feel it inside me,” he said softly, his voice beginning to crack. “The terrible things that I did though I can’t remember. It is not a pleasant thing to know that if you do not have control of yourself, you can unleash a monster.”

“You could never be that,” she replied. “You are the noblest man I have ever known, who is a king not only by title or bloodline but by heart. Can you not see it in the eyes of those who follow you? When you speak to them of freedom, they knew that it is not merely words to you but truth and that is what inspires all our faith in you.  This is hard for you my love because of the man you are, it would not be so if you were anything else. Yours is the heart of a healer and I think it is that part of you that cannot bear knowing that you would willingly hurt someone in cold malice.”

He blinked hard and when he did, she saw the tears in his eyes and knew that something she said penetrated the wall of grief he had surrounded himself. She went to her husband and took him in her arms as he begun to release the pent up grief he had held inside him for the past weeks. Arwen felt Aragorn’s body heaving against hers as he let go of his guilt and thought that she could not love him more then when he was willing to open himself up to her in such a manner.

She did not know how long she held him in her embrace as he purged himself of the hurt he had felt the last fortnight over things he had little control over but when he was done, Arwen looked into Aragorn’s eyes and knew that he would begin to heal now.

“You are too good to me,” he said composing himself.

”Only because you deserve the best,” she teased and was pleasured by the smile that crossed his lips.

“I suppose everything will turn out all right in the end,” he sighed, deciding that she was right. He could wallow in self-pity for only so long.  His kingdom needed their king and it was time he remembered that.

“It has already,” she answered. “Eomer is returning to Rohan and it appears that Eowyn will accompany him.”

”Oh?” He stared at her in question. “Why?”

“I think Eomer would like Eowyn to be a chaperone because Lothiriel will be journeying with him,” Arwen said with a little smile of pleasure.

“Imrahil must be extremely pleased with himself,” Aragorn commented.

“You have no idea how much,” Arwen chuckled. “And I think they really feel something for each other.”

“I am glad,” Aragorn said feeling genuinely happy for Eomer.  The king of the Mark deserved to find someone exceptional to share his kingdom and his heart, just as Aragorn had done when Arwen agreed to be his wife.

Suddenly the door knocked and after Aragorn had bid the caller to enter, saw Faramir walking toward them with a grim expression on his face.

“What is it?” Aragorn tensed, all traces of his earlier vulnerabilities discarded as the persona of Aragorn Elessar, King of the Reunified Kingdom returned in full force.

“We just received a message from Harad,” Faramir replied, appearing a little pale and the sight of him made Arwen’s breath shorten.

Aragorn stared briefly at Faramir before he took the parchment from the Steward’s hand and unrolled it so that he could peruse its contents. Within seconds of doing so, his jaw tightened and Arwen was assaulted by a terrible sense of dread.  When Aragorn looked up at her, she was certain she saw the blood had drained from his face.

“Castigliari is dead,” he stated stonily.

“What?” Arwen exclaimed in shock. “How?”

“He was executed for high treason for the murder of Ulfrain. Apparently, the Easterling leaders did not think the general had the right to kill him before bringing proof of his treachery home.”

Arwen thought of the good man who had helped them free Gondor and felt her heart ache with sorrow at his end. He deserved better. “That poor man,” she whispered softly.

”That is not all that,” Aragorn replied and met Faramir’s eyes with the same grim expression. “The people of Harad consider Castigliari’s actions as being influenced by Gondor and thus have rallied the rest of the Easterling nations.”

“For what purpose?” Arwen was almost afraid to ask.

“To launch a campaign against the Reunified Kingdom and all its allies,” Faramir spoke before Aragorn could, unable to believe that things had deteriorated so badly.

“It appears Undomiel,” Aragorn met her eyes and said with unnerving finality, “that we are at war.” 

THE END

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