Elu walked from one small group to another, his hand proprietarily placed in the small of the woman's back. He introduced her as Melian. The Fay looked up into their leader’s handsome face, her features composed into a mask of bland affection as though she were a stranger to natural expressions of emotion.

Celeborn watched the two of them with a jaundiced eye. He could have sworn that he saw something more sinister behind her pale cat eyes.

Recognizing his own feelings of jealousy and disappointment, he cursed himself for a fool.

Elu's silver hair glinted in the starlight, heavy and splendid. His broad shoulders, strong arms and muscled chest were of the type that most women fancied in a man. Why wouldn’t she want to seduce Elu?

And more importantly still, Celeborn could think of nothing that would prevent Elu from falling in love with her. She was undeniably beautiful, if a bit imposing in her aspect. There was about her an aspect of mystery and challenge. But then Elu could never choose an ordinary woman. Didn’t a king need a queen? Elu was nothing if not a king.

Celeborn’s throat constricted with rage and sorrow. Hadn’t he always known that their liaison would be time-limited? He himself had once been such a pretty youth, fair of face and lithe of form.

Elu had rejoiced in that beauty. But he was not a woman and worse yet he was a kinsman, doubly proscribed. In those days, he had been a match for Elu in appetite, perhaps even in intellect, but not in strength of purpose. It would have been easy for Celeborn to have declared himself before all of their people to be Elu’s beloved. He had longed to do so. But Elu insisted upon circumspection, explaining with tortured patience that a good ruler cannot flaunt the values of his people and further that he owed them an heir.

“Who is this woman that Elu brings with him?” a voice in the shadows asked.

“There is something strange about her,” his companion responded.

“Perhaps she is a witch.”

“Oh, that she undeniably is. I believe she is a shape shifter. One of them. Let us pray that he can hold his own with her. She has turned his head and stopped him in his tracks. The doughtiest leader among the Three and now . . .” Celeborn put his fingers in his ears like a petulant child and crashed off through the underbrush. He could not tolerate hearing more.

When he had reached his own campfire, he squatted and poked at it, stirring up a tiny storm of sparks. His mother’s strong fingers clutched him by the upper arm.

“Ouch!” he said, causing her to laugh mordantly.

Her voice turned serious, taking on the sonorous tones she used when making portentous pronouncements or demanding obedience. “Listen to me for once! It is better this way, my son.”

“I do listen to you, woman. I always have. Doesn’t mean I liked what you had to say.” He put his arm around his mother’s shoulders in conciliation and pulled her closer to him, not letting go.

“Humph! Surely you finally understand? Now you can move on with your life. Open up your heart. A man like you, so tall and strong, so graceful and so fair, can find his own beautiful sorceress. And better still, from among our own, among the Quendi. I have seen visions in the fire's light that you, my precious boy, will seduce and win the strongest, fairest, and wisest woman among our kind.”

He didn’t believe in her auguries for a moment, but she did make him smile. “Ah, you are as fierce as a she-wolf!”

“Perhaps.” She chuckled dryly. “Be a man, my son. Do not shame yourself by whimpering after Elu like a suckling pup.”

* * * * *