[Airerûthiel]

Laitalathion could not look Adanedhel in the face; he could barely face his inner self. As he looked at his hands, his eyes still saw the scarlet stains spreading from his palms to his fingertips, and he shook as though a localised earthquake had occured just beneath his feet. Swallowing the vile taste of fear that had settled in his mouth once again, his dark blue eyes slowly met the other's icy azure orbs.

"That...that woman," he stuttered, barely able to allow the words to escape from his mouth. "S-she called me b-by my b-brother's name! She thinks I am his ghost. She knows he is dead. But she must never know what I did to him. If she knew my brother, that means they were friends. And that means...if she knew the fell deeds of my past, no doubt she would have me slain." He was choking on his own tears, unable to face his companion.

"What exactly did you do, friend?" asked Adanedhel, still not sure whether to trust this person. "We are both half-Elven, both with Mirkwood in our beings. It seems as though we have been destined to meet one another. I am a traveller like yourself; I will not tell anyone your secret. It clearly troubles you, yet I do understand why you wanted to run. The good lady you seemed so afraid of appears perfectly ordinary."

Laitalathion took a deep breath. "You will surely never wish to see me again should I tell you the truth about my brother and I," he said, his voice filled with hatred and sorrow. "Many that live deserve death, and some that die deserve life. My brother deserves life, and I should be the one who was slain, not him.

"The horse I ride - Formenelen, the North Star - he was a wedding gift from my father to my mother. Some time ago he was stolen from this very stable. Maikadurion, who I learnt had been working at the White Horse, set off after him. Some other horses belong to Ælfritha - the woman you saw in the inn - and various other patrons were also stolen, and my brother was part of a quest to find the stolen steeds.

"They must have been nearing the end of their quest before I next saw him. Hiding behind an assumed name and a Gondorian guard's uniform, I had spent some time working under the Lord Denethor as a member of the military. My party was out patrolling the borderland between Gondor and Rohan when my captain found Maikadurion, who seemed to have lost his way. They recognised him as who he was, and I was forced to slay him.

"It was only after I had struck the fatal blow that I realised who my opponent had been. The rest of my party left the area, while I gave my only family a decent burial and exchanged garments with him. The trek back west was long and hard, but I only survived due to the fact that I was doing this for my brother's sake. I scratched a living by working for various people, and did well in my trade.

"Formenelen returned to me not long ago - he must have escaped his captors and caught my scent at Maikadurion's grave site. To have that horse back did little to soften the blow of my brother's murder, but he is all I have to remember my now slain family by. Since that fateful day I have declared myself an outlaw, never to forgive the heinous crime I committed against my own kin. A killer should not forget his deeds.

"Now are you sure you wish to associate with me any more, knowing that it is because of me that my own brother - he who shares my bloodline, the last of our house - lies dead and alone on some field in the eastern lands? I cannot go back into the inn; I feel I need the time to think. Whether you choose to stay here with me or return back to the inn and forget this conversation is your choice - I care not what you decide."