[Maikadilwen]

Anwanelme had quietly gone back to her tent when Arthain had left her, still shocked by the fact that Thelian had almost tried to kill her. And Arthain had actually saved her. But why? She expected that he of any would want to see her dead. Unless...no, he had no feelings for her. That he had made clear to her. She had only been concerned about Melost, that was the only reason she had spoken to Thelian. But apparently they all now believed her incapable of any kind of emotion and only saw evil in everything she did.
She found it hard to fall asleep. Every time she closed her eyes she would see Melost, not the way he had always been, but with the mad-stricken look that had covered his face when he had found her with Arthain.
Tossing and turning, wondering if he would always be haunting her like this from now on, Anwanelme finally drifted into a restless sleep.

She felt his lips on hers and sighed, smiling, glad that he had come to his senses and returned to her.
Opening her eyes as she felt a touch she was startled when she saw not Melost, but Arthain, the same way he had been that night, caring and loving but suddenly feeling weak and unable to resist, she gave in to him.
Smiling she pulled him close. "Arthain!"

With a start she woke up, ripped out of her dreams and she looked around the tent, convinced someone had just been there. She had dreamt about Arthain but she knew he hadn't been in there.
Still feeling the sensation of the last kiss, Anwanelme slowly ran her fingers over her lips, recognising the soft touch.

"Melost?"

Swiftly she jumped up and wrapped her cloak around herself, then stepped outside the tent, but there was no trace of him. With a sigh she realised that had he really been there, he wouldn't have been able to disappear this fast.
He had not come back...

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

More grumpy than ever, having been pulled from their camp into this forsaken place by Khalad, Vlad looked around the place where he stood. Nothing but rocks. With a deep sigh he tried to figure out what an Elf would do out here on his own, a warrior even. And where did he come from?
In his usual silent way, he knelt down next to the lifeless body they had found, halfway buried under stones and rubble from what seemed to have been a minor rock-slide.

"You're sure this is the one you saw?"

He looked at the tall Númenorean beside him but the younger man only nodded which caused Vlad to smirk. Khalad usually tried to say as little as possible when he was alone with him, since the more noble manner in which he spoke would mostly cause the older man to tease him without mercy and Vlad was fully aware of that.

"I believe you were given a tongue so you could put it to good use, Khalad!" he said dryly and checked to see if the Elf was alive. He found a pulse, slow but steady and he caught himself wondering what had happened. It wasn't his concern, all he wanted to know was if this one had been alone or if more could be expected.
Vlad reached for the water-skin in his belt and he sluiced some of its content over the face of the Elf, both in order to try to wake him up but also to rinse off some of the blood that covered his face and made it impossible to determine his condition.
Moaning, he stirred and Vlad placed a hand firmly on his shoulder to make sure he didn't make any swift movements. He had seen that although the Elf appeared to be a soldier he carried no sword, but there was no way to say if he carried other weapons and Vlad didn't wish to take any chances.

The Elf seemed to regain consciousness and began to struggle, forcing Vlad to make a firmer grip on both his shoulders, when suddenly he opened his eyes and relaxed a little.

"Arthain, is that you?"

"Don't try to speak. For now! You'll have plenty of telling to do later on." Vlad said quietly, releasing his grip on the Elf's shoulders, then turned to the extraordinary tall man who had been standing behind them, scouting for any poor soul who might be foolish enough to get too close to this place.

"Fidrohir! We're taking him with us back to the camp. You and Khalad will carry him. I'll go ahead and tell the others. If Snyd hasn't fallen asleep on his watch again, in which case I'll kill him before getting Jaheira to make herself useful and take care of this guy's wounds. I want him alive so he can answer some questions."

Fidrohir mumbled something inaudible, obviously not content with having to drag a nearly unconscious Elf into their camp with Khalad but he was clever enough not to gainsay Vlad. He was their leader and the fools who had dared to question this, had soon learnt why. And Fidrohir knew that now was definitely not the time to anger Vlad any further. Their provisions were running short and now it seemed they had another person to take care of.
"He must be getting soft!" he whispered to Khalad, nodding towards Vlad as they picked up the Elf. "Why question this one? On all other times he would've killed him."

[ July 22, 2003: Message edited by: Maikadilwen ]