"An interesting choice of words, Man of the noble West. What shall I do with you indeed?" Gil-galad came around the table to confront Arthain face to face, his voice soft, controlled, deadly. "Melost lives. I have have sensed his mind, tormented and wracked to the point of insanity by grief." Anger kindled in the depths of his grey eyes and Arthain's gut clenched as he beheld his inner fire, barely contained. Fire that in battle burned murderously bright.
Gil-galad turned abruptly away from Arthain in disgust and sorrow. He had known from Melost's point of view of the depth of their friendship, had even accepted the young man as Melost's companion on many campaigns once he had seen that the two had formed a deep bond between them. To see his kinsman betrayed in such a manner was unthinkable.
Arthain stood rooted to the spot and stared at Gil-galad's back, instinctively wanting to squeeze his shoulder, tell him everything was alright...as he would have done with Melost. "Earendil...I have destroyed more lives here than Anwenelme could ever have done." He flinched minutely as Gil-galad sighed in the resounding silence of the tent. "He loved you, Arthain. He has taken wounds for you. You repay him poorly." He turned and fixed Arthain with a look so profound in its hatred, it took his breath away. "From henceforth, you will ride with my cavalry. You will go from my presence and go to the tent provided for you, follow every order given you, and, if there be any among the Valar that still listen, you...will...die."
Arthain bowed deeply to the Elven king, then cleared his throat. "One word, if I may,lord?" He received a nod of assent. "Great King, there is nothing I desire more than the swift death you wish me. I can say nothing in my defense, I can only thank you for your mercy." He swallowed painfully. "Truly, lord, I have one wish more, to see your kinsman one last time." For an instant their eyes met and between them there flowed a measure of pain, sorrow and loss.
The tent flap opened and Arthain was gone.
|