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Amarië wandered aimlessly through the halls and corridors of Nargothrond, waiting for Finrod's council to finish. She had foolishly thought, the night before as the two had sat in near perfect bliss in the song hall, that he would spend every free minute he had with her. And that was partly true; the only difficulty was that he had not very many free moments. The main issue was protection of Nargothrond's borders in alliance with King Elu Thingol of Menegroth. And the housing of Finrod's guests that came occasionally. There was also, of course, the long-put off marriage of her and Finrod, but they had not discussed that between them in length and she doubted he would bring it up to others without having spoken of it to her. 

So she waited patiently, for them to finish. 

After what seemed like hours, the talking from beyond the walls of the room ceased and the door opened, the various occupants walking out. Finrod stayed in, surrounded by scattered parchments. 

When the others had left, Amarië entered and closed the door behind her. 

Finrod glanced up and the worried frown on his face disappeared into a smile. "Amarië, I was hoping to see you."

"The meeting was long," she sat down in an unoccupied chair. "I thought you had forgotten me."

"Never. I would never forget you. 'Tis only that there was much to discuss that I've put off for far too long. But that's all done with." He pushed the parchments to the side and rose to his feet. "Come with me, let us leave aside the cares of this dark Age of Middle-earth and pretend we are still in Valinor." Though he was smiling, his voice had a trace of bitterness and sad longing. 

He wrapped his arm around her small waist and led her out into a courtyard whose roof had been designed to let the sun shine in upon growing plants placed in strategic places to delight the eyes of the viewers. "You're very quiet today, Amarië. What is it?"

She shrugged. "I don't know. Something's been weighing be down since this morning and I don't know what it is." 

"When do you want to be married?" He asked after a moment's silence. 

Amarië looked up at him and smiled. "Truly?"

"Truly. I don't want to wait any longer than you do. So much time has been wasted already."

"A month from now?" 

He smiled down at her. "Aye, I will send word to my sister. She will wish to know. Meanwhile, I have a free afternoon and would like to spend it best. Do you have any suggestions?"

Amarië laughed. "Locking ourselves in the library with no one to disturb us and you singing songs to me like you used to in Valinor."

"Hm, I shall consider your request," he teased. "Come with me, the library awaits."

That night, for the first time in many days, the dreams came again. It seemed Morgoth had not forgotten the one Vanyar who had escaped his malice and dungeons. After an afternoon of almost perfect bliss, Amarië's dreams that night were tortured with pain and the horrid remembrances of imprisonment and slavery in the darkest place in all of Arda. 

Finrod woke abruptly out of a deep sleep, feeling a sense of darkness hanging over him. Rising, he dressed quickly in the darkness and hurried out of his room, softly yet swiftly making his way across the various corridors. 

When he reached Amarië's room, he hesitated, listening outside the door. 

The sense of darkness had only grown deeper.

With a single motion, he opened the door and slipped inside, leaving it partly open. He tossed aside the blankets on her bed and picked up her slight frame, cradling her close. She was trembling, yet not making a sound. Silent tears raced down her pale face and her eyes were shut tightly. 

"Amarië," he whispered. 

She gripped him tightly, but did not say a word. 

Pressing his forehead against hers, he breathed a silent prayer to Varda, Lady of the Stars, to let him see what Elthríel saw. 

It was a fiery darkness, flames leaping up against the palpable evil that hung in the air like the shimmering heat on a summer day. He could hear the growled orders, the cracking of whips, and the screams of the prisoners. It only seemed to get worse and worse. 

But then the scene changed. 

The flames were gone. He was in a dark room whose vaulted ceiling met high above his head, far beyond his range of sight, which was great indeed. At the end of the room was an immense throne, jagged and grotesque. He could see nothing of the person who sat upon it save a thick, swirling darkness, crowned with an iron circlet with three glowing gems set in them. Finrod did not to look twice to know what those gems were, nor the person wearing them. 

Only Morgoth, besides Fëanor, who was dead, would have the audacity to wear the Silmarils. 

Finrod looked straight at the fallen Vala, grimacing. 

A fell laughter arose, echoing eerily about the hall. "So, you have come at last, Finrod Felagund. I see that your 'darling' has returned to you despite my efforts."

Finrod gritted his teeth, but said nothing. 

"This is not over. Do not think that I will not attempt to take from you all that you love and hold dear. You are not the first to feel my rage and will not be the last. Enjoy this time of peace. Enjoy these joyful moments of what you lesser beings call 'love.' 'Tis just a passing thing and soon will be gone. I will not hesitate to ruin your every chance of happiness. Enjoy it while you can, Elf. It will soon vanish."

Finrod opened his eyes and saw to his great relief that he was not indeed in Morgoth's palace at Angband. He looked down at the figure in his arms. 

Amarië was no longer trembling, but deathly still. 

"Amarië," he whispered. He couldn't have... Or did he?

Out of desperation, Finrod laid the elleth back upon her bed and looked at her. She was breathing. 

"Amarië, can you hear me?"

Silence. 

He bent down and brushed her lips with his own gently. 

Her eyelids fluttered open. "Finrod... Did you see?" Her voice was scarcely audible. 

"Aye, I did. I saw and heard everything."

"What if he's right?"

"Amarië, whether he is or not, do not pay too much heed. For it will destroy what little time we have. I have waited too long, you and I both have. It is only a little while and then we will be married. Now sleep."

"Don't leave me," she pleaded. 

He gazed at her form, wasted and thin, almost like a child's in weight. "I will stay with you, but sleep."

She closed her eyes obediently, gripping his hand tightly in her own tiny ones. 

Soon a peaceful rest had replaced the panicked nightmares of before. 

Finrod bowed his head where he sat and closed his eyes. 

How long do we have?

So so sorry for not updating sooner! I had half of this chapter written and then got stuck on what should happen next. 

Anyway, some good news. I've completed my first story on Wattpad ever (a LOTR fanfiction) and put the other two on hold. This is the only fanfic I will update at this point until it's finished. So, I will try to finish this before the end of the year--but we'll see how that goes. XD

How are you enjoying the story so far? Please feel free to leave a vote or a comment if you enjoyed!

~ Gwynnedd