[Manelwen]

He watched her slip into the tent with avid interest, and silently ran his knife across the orc guard that had his back turned to the silent warrior. Clasping his hand around the orcs greasy mouth to keep him from calling out, he let the dead body fall to the muddy ground. Keldin wiped his knife on the orc's cloak and then advanced, creeping towards the tent where the lady had dissapeared in.

Lifting the flap of the tent, dark black oily smoke leaked out and into the dark air. It smelled of burnt alethelas that made Keldin gasp, the smell was mingled with something else that was putrid and smelled of sweet decay. He slipped into the room and saw the elf standing, her arms crossed over her chest, and her foot squelched on the ground as she tapped it, displaying her impatience and expectance mockingly. "I have been expecting you."

"Siluialwen." He bowed his head, lowering his eyes, his shame of his deeds millenias ago, finally broke through his restraint and he gritted his teeth, trying to keep from bursting out. He could tell that she was no longer the fair maiden that she once was when she married his brother, Elatar. The twinkling light in her bright eyes was no longer there, and the innocence of her youth had blossomed into bitterness and a cold darkness that made Keldin shudder.

"Siluailwen is dead." She spat hatefully, her eyes narrowing with hate and anger, that she had stirred in for the four millenia since her husband had been killed...and her child cut down by Keldin's own lance.