Jarel dismounted his horse gracefully, in the middle of Pelennor Fields. It was not smart to enter the city at this time of night by normal means. A smirk came to his face as he sprinted the last mile. He felt an evil energy spark through his blood and it gave him new joy, if that was possibly the correct word. He slipped through a postern, a side gate that was used by merchants.

He stayed with the shadows, glad for his elvish heritage. His steps were silent, as were all elves, and no one knew he even existed. The seven tiers passed quickly, for no one was out and about at this time of night. Before he knew it, he was crossing the courtyard to the palace. His eyes glinted maliciously in the moonlight.

He forced the door open and knocked out the guards, lowering each to the floor, as not to alert anyone else. He brushed his blonde hair behind his shoulders and took the left hall, walking for five minutes, having to dart into empty rooms every couple of seconds because of sentries or servants passing by. But soon enough, he entered the royal quarters to find the Queen not so asleep as he would have hoped.