[*Varda*]

Elena walked through the hall with her friends, after she and Emilia had admired Dryea’s ring. Engaged to Rhir? Elena hadn’t been expecting that to happen – Dryea was never open about her feelings for him.

There was a strange atmosphere in the room that night. While the majority carried on dancing, and drinking, and sharing idle gossip with their friends and acquaintances, a few seemed strangely distracted. Emilia had disappeared somewhere – Dryea and Alethea too, were nowhere to be seen. Finduilas, who had been the centre of attention only an hour before, had vanished into the sea of butterflies and birds. Pelien, always anxious to make her presence known, was certainly not in the room.

Looking around the room for these people, Elena saw no sign of them anywhere. Leaving her friends abruptly, she left the room, pushing her way past all the feathers and finery to find herself in the refreshingly cool air of the night.

Stepping quietly across the terrace, she heard voices carry across the air. Both were familiar – it was undoubtedly Pelien and Finduilas. But why would the two of them be talking?

“Lady Pelien, you were right in one thing. I am not who they told you I was. But nevertheless, I remain myself. I am Finduilas of Dol Amroth. Now, let us go in. A splendid fête, is it not?”

Finduilas walked past Elena, who was standing in the shadows, her eyes widening at this. Pelien had confronted Finduilas with the rumours? And clearly…Finduilas had denied it. Behind Finduilas walked a visibly shaken Pelien, all her usual air of confidence gone from her.

Finduilas gone, Elena stepped out as Pelien went by, touching her by the arm. Pelien let out a small gasp, before realising who it was.

“Lady Pelien, what has happened? You spoke to Finduilas, I see that, but what did she say?” Elena looked into Pelien’s eyes, searching for a response. Had the rumours been just that, rumours? Were they really all lies?