Anarya listened quietly to the judgement given to the one called Sauche, till she looked at Mornovarion. He was slumped on the floor, mumbling. His eyes roving the room like a mad dog's. There was something different about him.
"Mornovarion?" Anarya whispered, looking at him curiously.
Mornovarion looked up. His eyes held more than just sorrow now, no they held no sorrow. Only something deep, deep and evil as the dark of Mordor. The elf smiled, his smile sarcastic and wicked.
"Yes Anarya?" He asked in a voice that was not his.
Anarya stepped back. Something was wrong. Then she saw something that alarmed her greatly. From the folds of his dark blue cloak, the elf drew a knife, cruel and silver as the moon...
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Snow white! Snow White! O' Lady Clear! O' Queen Beyond the Western Seas!
O' light to us that wander here amid the world of woven trees!
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