[Elora]

Naiore

Oh, now this was an interesting thing to behold indeed. Naiore watched the reddish glow of a lantern bob along silently. Within it's scope was one man she did not know and another she knew well indeed. She had tested him thoroughly before. Full lips curved into the first general smile of pleasure of the day.

Kaldir, I remember you. Without so much of a muscle twitching, visions unfolded from her long and ancient memory. A man twisted and writhed in pain, a great deal of it arising from his physical injuries. However what had fascinated Naiore was the ephemeral internal pain. It was that which scarred deepest of all. Kaldir had proved himself unique in that respect in the pits.

Any man could bleed. It was a crude and unsophisicated manner of unknitting their strength. Naiore allowed it only when her time was short. It weakened their resolve, their strength diverted to keeping life within their ruined bodies and opening their souls to her. She could reach and seize the fear and the pain, complicated and silvery things, to see what she could see. Rage, desire for life, desperation... all fruits to open to see what lay within.

Yet Kaldir had proved remarkably resilient and had fought her on a front that most Mortals crumbled on. He fought her for his very spirit with a ferocity that was refreshing, challenging and startling. She had not been able to reach his boundaries, impudently interrupted by the "Free Peoples" of Middle-earth.

Naiore's keen sight marked the evidence of their encounter upon his face. Yes, it was him. She'd fought hard for this one, recognising his worth. Managed properly he would have been of great use. The orcs saw only Man-flesh and ruin. Sauron's wroth had been great when news of the carnage she unleashed upon them reached him, and she had been summonsed herself to explain. But when she had explained Kaldir's remarkable strength of spirit, in a Mortal Man no less, Sauron had understood and she had been questioned no longer.

Afterall, had not Naiore seen such strength before and aided him in selecting the wraiths. Her abilities and senses were unique. Let the Eldar work on the Younger and see what would come of it. She would have discovered much had she been allowed the time. Naiore extended her senses carefully around her... wariness was everywhere. No surprise that, with Rangers at every turn.

One even stood on the porch of the Inn, smoking and boldly staring at the night. How he would have started if she had emerged. One thing to think she was near, another altogether to discover she was. Naiore's gaze switched back to Kaldir and the other man, a thief.... Tucker, she made out. Another interesting fact to tuck away. She'd appropriate a mount later, from the thief. Let him wail about the theft.

She'd have to wait still, though the impulse to take Kaldir back into her tender mercies was strong. With the Ranger standing on the porch, he'd have the others out and she'd have Kaldir but not Vanwe. Besides, it seemed Kaldir had company from his negotiations and she had no way of knowing the manner of his companions. Patience was the key, it was her chief weapon. Discipline, preparation, patience: those things made her formidible. No orc to go dashing wildly out waving sword and screaming blood thirstily for flesh was she.

So Naiore remained where she was still as night drew on. Already the trees had started to don their wispy misty robes. It would not be long now and already much was falling into place. A horse thief to supply mounts, willing or no, Vanwe and Kaldir to gather up like a bountiful harvest. Barrold in Bree with his safehouse to stow away in. Cover of night and fog at her disposal.

Her fullsome smile remained fixed in place. Spirit in and out beneath the noses of the Rangers. Still, why where they here... where Vanwe was? Her daughter would pay a heavy price for her treachery. Naiore's eyes travelled up to the window that her daughter had gazed out of. A heavy price that she would collect in the small hours of this night.