[littlemanpoet]

Lalaith's parents had researched the lorebooks carefully and found one small instance of a name in an otherwise sad history of Men that struck their fancy. Sindarin for 'laughter' seemed just right for their little bundle of joy, and so they named her. Little did they know what fate awaited her.

She had lived her entire life in Sealville, and had made friends of the other women who either did not marry or found themselves without husband by fate. Married women looked upon her as frivolous and overly delicate. She knew this. And so she spent her time with Feanor, Valier, and Jenny. These four formed a clique that, unhappily, did not serve them so well when the Curse came. As the lorebooks of Sealville show, two of them were cursed to be werewolves, and two were not. Perhaps Lalaith was luckier than Feanor.

Things did not go well on the new day. Lalaith voted early for Eomer and stated her reasons. Eomer, Jenny, and Kitanna built a case against Lalatih, and the unfortunate Zali cast the deciding vote before Diamond and other villagers even had a chance to say anything.

Kitanna cried, "Quorum!" The four led the one to the beech tree.

"How fitting that the aunt shall suffer the same fate as the niece," murmured Eomer to Jenny, out of earshot of Zali.

"Any last words?" Kitanna asked.

"Yes," Lalaith said coolly, her eyes narrowing. "I'm looking at three werewolves and one dupe."

"A pity," said Eomer, and kicked the stool out from beneath Lalaith's feet. She died and did not change into a dead werewolf.

Eomer, Kitanna, and Jenny now turned to Zali.

"Woof!" said Jenny, smirking.

"Woof woof!" said Kitanna, grinning.

"Woofa woof woof!" yeowled Eomer, fangs suddenly listening.

Zali screamed and fled. The did not wait until sundown, which was still three hours off; they knew they had beaten the entire village. They gave chase and ran Zali down not a minute out of Sealville. They made hay of her anachronistically pinaforish gown with matching parasol, ripped out her heart and howled wolfishly over it, crooning to it as if they were phantom in love. Then they fell upon Zali with an appetite that could only be called, well, wolfish.

***********

The next morning, Eonwe, Feanor, and Diamond gathered at the Watcher Rock along with Eomer, Kitanna, and Jenny. There they observed a new grave, where Lalaith now lay, and what was left of phantom's love.

"We're dead," Diamond said in a hollow voice. "Would that I had been slain sooner."

"We would be most gratified," Eomer murmured, "to fulfill your wish."

With that the werewolves overpowered the three remaining villagers and took their hearts before finishing their feeding frenzy.

***********

That night, the three werewolves filed into Roa's basement and proferred the spoils of human hearts to the Shadow.

"You have done well, my werewolves," the Shadow purred. "One of you will become my new wizard. I shall meld these hearts into the power to make it so. Which one will it be?"

The three werewolves looked at each other with sudden hate and fear. Each of them wanted to be the next wizard. A murderous rout began. Fur was gouged. Blood flowed. Growlings and roars and howls were released from savage throats. Finally one werewolf struggled to its feet and waited for the Shadow's wizarding.

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

The Watchers turned and faced each other.

"This village has died," said the Lady.

"One survives and will spread the curse to another village," said the Man.

"Maybe we can somehow convey what must be learned from this village's sad doom," she said.

The Man nodded. "The innocent villagers failed to find common ground."

"It is most difficult when an evil wizard plays them like find strings of a lute."

"Yes, but they allowed her to play them so. They loved their families too well, their friends not enough."

"'Tis hard not to put loved ones first."

"Aye, but those not family must not be ignored."

"The good wizard's seers did not dream," the Lady said.

"A most unfortunate complacency killed this village," the Man said.

"Not least of the evils that befell this village, was that many fled the battle."

"Maybe," the Man said, "in the next village the innocent will take greater courage."

"Would that we could do more!" the Lady cried.

"Nay, we could; but our oath holds us back, as you know. Did we break our oath, it would have been much the worse for this village."

The Lady nodded. They stood and buried the three remaining corpses, then walked out of Sealville, following the path of the Shadow to the next village; they could see its trail of darkness as a stain upon the land.

The village of Sealville was reclaimed by the winds and rains and the slow onset of the dust of years. The lorebooks the villagers had gathered remain buried in the houses of the slain to this day.