Fan Fiction ❯ RP Story- Also Editted ❯ RP tale ( One-Shot )

Nevlothiel-

Someone brushed her skin. She let out a cry. "Hush now. Everything is all right. My name is Elfhelm." Nevlothiel blinked as this new savior ran the wet cloth over her tired, beaten body. "Eomer, come here."

Eomer, the leader, came over. "Is she doing any better?"

"Hardly. She slept very fitfully."

"Can she talk?"

"Where is Legolas?" Her voice shook.

"Legolas?" Eomer asked.

She nodded and touched her neck, where the chain was. It was overlooked by the orcs by some miracle. Her trembling fingers wrapped around the pendant. "My- My husband. He is a prince… He is Thranduil's son…"

"Of Mirkwood? What is a Mirkwood elf doing in these parts?" Elfhelm inquired.

"I love him… Can I see him?" Suddenly, her eyes grew wide. "Where are the hobbits!"

Eomer raised an eyebrow. "The what?"

"Halflings of the Shire! They were with me. I must protect them!" She sat up and it was then that she saw it. Nearly 10 ft high stood a pyre of burning orc carcasses. She screamed shrilly. Elfhelm grabbed her, clamped a hand over her mouth, and held her tight as cold, bitter tears began to stream down her face. He pulled it away when she stopped struggling. "Tell me you found them… Tell me they escaped…"

No one said a word.

"Diamond…" she whispered.

"I am sorry," Eomer stated.

When the morning came, Elfhelm was pleased to find that she was able to fix her clothes on her own. She stitched as he packed. Her borrowed nightshirt hung over her frail body like a tent. She finished and set the male elven garb on the bedside. "We are moving out today," he said, busying himself in saddling the horses. He paused to cast a quick glance at her. "You never mentioned your name."

She slipped her tunic on over the shirt. "Nevlothiel of Lórien."

"I thought you were from Mirkwood."

"Indeed no." She pulled her tights on. "That is my husband, the eighth son of the king."

"I see." He strapped on his bags. "How did you meet?"

Her eyes coldly watched him. "Find him and maybe then I shall tell you."
He paused, wiping sweat from his brow. "Let me guess. Newlyweds?"

"Very much so."

"Planning to have children?"

She sighed and looked down at her hands. "I had an abortion two days before we married."

He swallowed. "I see."

"We wanted the baby. It just came at the wrong time."

He moved to tack her horse.

"No!" she cried.

He stopped. "What?"

"I ride bareback." She leapt lightly onto the horse and twined the mane into her fingers.

"Aye… Forgive me. I'm not familiar to the elven customs." He climbed onto his. "The horse is named Relquim."

"He hates that name." She patted its neck. "Isn't that right, Alulema?" It whinnied.

Elfhelm smiled. "Alulema? Interesting name choice."

"Go ahead. Mock me." Her tone was flat as she tapped the horse's side. It jolted off. The rider laughed sharply and trotted behind her, the golden hair bouncing on his shoulders as they made their way across camp.

Eomer raised an eyebrow. "Up early, I see."

"Give me a bow and a full quiver," she demanded, slowing the beast.

"A woman is already much unwelcome amongst us. You will not fight."

"Give me a bow and a full quiver," she hissed again.

He gave her a look and pulled on his helmet. "No."

She jumped off Aleluma and stared him straight in the eye. "Nadorhaun," she muttered. "Take up your sword. I have my own. Give me the arrows or I'll tickle your throat with it."

"I like you." He sent out word for a bow and quiver. "I wouldn't mind having you tickle me. Your husband certainly must have struggled to keep the other men's hands off of you."

"Don't you dare talk about Legolas, scum." She turned away bitterly.

"What's the matter?"

"I just- Who are you to judge me? You don't know my name, my origins...Anything, actually…"

"Elfhelm does, I'm sure. You seem to like him more than I."

Blandly, she faced him. "He asks me things. If I remember, it was he who jerked that dirty creature out of me, slit its throat, and dragged me from the main battle. I owe him my life."

"You owe me nothing, Nev," Elfhelm muttered, joining them. "It was the least a man can do. I doubt anyone would have stood by and watched a beautiful elven lady raped by such a thing." He looked at her, concerned. "You aren't pregnant, are you?"

She shook her head. "I think I'd know if I was. When I was last time, I seemed to know instantly."

"Am I… missing something?" Eomer pressed the bow into her hand and the quiver onto her shoulder. He took 3 steps back, a grin on his face. "Your name is Nev?"

"Nevlothiel."

He shrugged. "Pretty name. Anyway, if you want to keep these, you have to earn it. Do you see the leaf on that tree? I want it split down the middle without having it fall off the bra-"

Before he could blink, this was done.

He tried to hide his surprise.

"I wasn't born yesterday, Eomer. Try me again. Don't cut me any slack."

He swallowed and looked about. He ran about 20 meters away and picked up an acorn. "Hit it!" he called. He threw it into the air.

There was a large twang. He bent and picked up the arrow. The acorn was on the tip. "Anything else?" she asked.

Elfhelm chuckled. "Most of the men didn't pass the leaf test. Ever Eomer didn't get the acorn."

"This annoys me," Eomer said, coming over. "But you may fight with us, if there is a need." He ducked into his pack and came back up with a bundle. "Welcome to the Rohirrim."

With the helmet on, her men's riding clothes, and the cloak, Elfhelm and his leader had to agree she blended in nicely. They rode south for three days with no sign of anyone. The riders grew close to Nevlothiel, who was the best cook and storyteller amongst them. At about noon on the fourth day, a voice reached her. "Riders of Rohan! What news from the mark?"

On Eomer's command, the horses wheeled around and stopped. Elfhelm moved his beast in front of Alulema as though protecting her. Three travelers had been caught in their circle. Spears pointed at them, Eomer addressed them. Nevlothiel attempted to see through the mass of helmets.

"We are looking for our friends, who were taken by orcs. We have not stopped to rest for several nights." The voice was so familiar, she nearly cried out.

"Give us your names," the leader demanded of them.

A gruff response came, "Give me your name, horse-master, and I shall give you mine!"

"I would cut off your head if it stood but a little higher from the ground. Dwarf."

She bit her lip and faced Elfhelm. "I know these men!" she whispered urgently.

"Let me guess… One of them is Legolas."

From the front came the first voice again. "I am Aragorn, son of Arathorn- This is Gimli, son of Gloin and Legolas of the Woodland Realm."

Nevlothiel stuck her tongue out at him.

"That was mature, woman. Hush now." The rider turned and stared at the newcomers.

Eomer told them about the orcs. Gimli and Aragorn were quiet for a moment, heads bent in laments. Legolas stood, unmoving, his jaw dropped slightly. "You are kidding, of course. She can't- I- One could not have missed an elf among orcs..." His voice shook with disbelief and anger.

"Legolas…" Aragorn muttered.

The prince shot a look at his friend, then turned and glared at Eomer. "You don't understand! My second wife! My only reason to stay alive in this world. They took her. It can't be as I feared…"

"Legolas!" She jumped from the horse and ran into the circle, despite the spears. She tossed her arms around his neck.

Legolas grabbed the helmet and jerked it off. The golden waves fell onto her back. He stared for a moment in disbelief. "I know this face…" He pressed his cheek to hers, already consumed by her presence. "Do you know what was running through my head these last few days?" he whispered. Tears of joy and pain ran from his eyes. "Nevlothiel, I thought I had lost you… I kept picturing things. Why did you follow Merry and Pippin? How could you do this?"

She released him and faced Eomer. "This is my husband, Legolas, whom I have told you so much about. Let them stay the night. They are worn from grief and tired from running."

Eomer sighed and waved his hand. The spear points were lifted. "Friends of Nevlothiel's are mine. Hasufel! Arod!" Two horses stepped forth. "Let us hope you fare better than their owners."

Gimli and Legolas mounted the gleaming white Arod. Aragorn took the brown one, Hasufel. Nevlothiel went to Alulema and pulled her hair up, pressing the helmet on. Elfhelm's face was solemn as he watched her.

"So that is your beloved Legolas?"

"It is," she grinned.

He nodded slightly. "He seems a little… protective…"

"He was married once before to a human. He was hunting and she was at home with his unborn child. When he returned, she had been mangled by orcs who stormed Mirkwood."

"That is terrible." The riders started to move. "His child and his wife…"

"It is indeed. I can tell he loved her greatly and still does. I doubt she can ever be replaced in his heart."

Arod came up next to Alulema. Gimli grinned at her. "Nev, it was interesting to watch your little segment back there. You look just like a man in those clothes."

"Men aren't supposed to have breasts, Gimli," Legolas teased.

"Not normal men, anyway. Besides, the clothes are baggy," she said.

"And who is this?" He motioned towards the rider.

She nodded to her friend. "This is Elfhelm. He saved me when they attacked the Uruk-Hai. I am forever in his debt."

"As am I." He turned back to his wife. "Did the orcs anything to you? Did they dare touch you?" Her expression confirmed his fears. He clenched his fists, but he tried to remain calm. "They raped you?"

She sighed and looked at the fast-moving ground.

"Are you pregnant?"

"No."

"Oh, Nev… I was afraid they would do this to you... Did they… beat you? Stab you?"

"Nothing I couldn't handle." Nevlothiel suddenly stopped. "Where's Boromir?"

There was a silence. Gimli swallowed. "He didn't make it, I'm afraid."

***

Legolas held his lover as she wept into his chest that night. He was powerless as she screamed in complete anguish. She had rejected Boromir, left him sad and wretched, and had to live forever with the guilt. Though he himself had on a few occasions tossed in his fist, he could not imagine her grief.

Elfhelm watched through the tent flap as he stroked her hair, singing to her. He could see that Evlangion had indeed been replaced in his heart. He didn't know whether to cry or smile, for he knew that Eomer didn't like these guests among the Rohirrim. Elfhelm would lose his friend tomorrow. Memories of her limp body in his arms rung through him. He had cleaned her and guarded her as she rested. He had ripped the dirty creature from her body.

Gimli and Aragorn slept three tents over.

Eomer sat, smoking his pipe, his eyes closed. So this was Legolas, the dirty bastard who went and married her after getting her pregnant. Surely, it was he who wanted the abortion. He didn't love her. No… He could see that if he loved her, why did he allow his wife to be captured by orcs? What was Nevlothiel doing that she was put in these positions? And who was this Boromir, who was struck by arrows?

It had been dark for about three hours when Nevlothiel swallowed her pain and looked up into Legolas' eyes. "This is not a night of grief… This night should be for us. You are alive. That is all that matters. You alone matter."

"If you wish it to be a night of grief or a night of rejoicing, I understand all. But… Nevlothiel, I was thinking… These Rohirrim are good people, it seems. That Elfhelm is a great friend to you, I can see. Though it hurts me to say this… Well, Nev, I keep thinking that Di, Merry, and Pippin could still be alive. We plan to go into Fangorn forest tomorrow to continue our search."

Her face fell. "You know what my people say of Fangorn…"

"Which is why I think that you should stay with these men. I could ask it of Elfhelm or Eomer to escort you to Edoras. I am sure you will be safe there. My father speaks well of Theoden. Besides, Eomer has a sister, Eowyn. You could spend time with her, exploring their cultures… What do you say?"

She thought for several moments. Sighing at last, she touched the point on his ear and pressed her cheek to his. "You will come for me in Edoras. If you do not send word within one week of my arrival, I will go out and comb Fangorn."

He nodded and rubbed her back wearily. "You make me proud to love you."

"Oh Legolas…" She leaned back. "I forgot how tired you must be. Get some rest." She rose and went to close the tent flap. "Did you hear?" she asked Elfhelm.

"You'll like Edoras," he smiled.

"Do you need any extra blankets or candles before I fall asleep? It is rather cold out and you have watch."

"I'm fine, Nev."

She went over and kissed his cheek. "Good night." She went inside quickly, shutting the flap behind her. As she blew out the candle and began to change, Legolas fell asleep, listening to her whispering a story of the night with every movement. But as she lay down next to him, he awoke again, just thinking of how he had longed for her. He touched her and kissed her.

"Amin mela lle," he muttered as he drifted off again. He slept well, knowing she was safe at his side.

"Oh Legolas…" she whispered as she rested her head on his shoulder. "This is all we can muster after almost a week… a few tears and kisses…" She couldn't sleep, so she flung the robe over her and went out of the tent. She could see Elfhelm by the fire.

"Where are you going?" he asked.

"On a walk."

"You can't go alone. I won't let you."

She started to walk towards the grass plains. Elfhelm leapt up. "Stay and guard the men," she muttered.

"I won't let you go out alone."

"Eomer will surely beat you."

"Not if you don't tell."

She paused. "All right. Come along."

As they walked, the night shadows seemed to grow and take ferocious shapes. Nevlothiel never realized that Elfhelm's hand rested on his sword's hilt. Elfhelm never noticed how she kept moving to touch his arm in fear, but would recoil. It was a matter of minutes before they finally spoke. "Do you love Legolas?"

"Yes," she stated firmly with no hesitation.

"And who is this Boromir?"

She jumped as an animal scurried underfoot, then turned and met his hazel eyes. "Boromir of Gondor was a friend and a suitor. I highly considered him, but then…"

"You got pregnant."

She nodded, but quickly added, "But don't get me wrong. I love Legolas with all of my heart. The baby just brought us closer. It also, for me, ruled out the others."

"I understand." There was a loud, bizarre noise on the left. He pulled out his sword and grabbed Nevlothiel before she could exhale. An arrow flew suddenly, going into the left bushes. Legolas ran past them and went to discover what he had shot. He returned with a large boar.

"I'll trade," the prince smiled.

A moment later, his wife was walking against him while Elfhelm carried the boar proudly towards camp. "I thought you were asleep," she said.

"And miss the action? I hate waking up to having one side of the bed cold. I indeed did wake up to such when I realized what a bad husband I was being. I don't know when I'll see you again." He stopped and faced her. "I miss you already, Nev." He brushed his hand against her cheek, then put his lips against hers. The kiss brought tears to both of their eyes. "Lets go back now. It's cold and I long for you."

"You are so persuasive…"Gently taking both his wrists, she led him back to the camp.

***

"Nevlothiel, there is a warm mineral spring just within these woods."

She looked up. "Excuse me?"

"If you want to take a bath or wash your clothes or… something…"

"Thank you, Eomer. I would love a hot bath. I'll get Elfhelm-"

"There's no need for that. I can take you."

She paused. "All- all right. If you insist." She fetched her oils and a change of clothes. Eomer lead her off into the woods. The walk was under half of a kilometer away.

The spring was bubbling with hot water, the gentle mist rising. She had not had a hot bath in over three weeks. Instantly, she set down her items on the banks of the shore and took off her tights. The human drew his sword and turned to face the woodlands.

As she stepped into the steamy depths, her senses numbed. She pulled the pins from her hair, which had been in a tight bun since the morning Legolas left, for there was much riding. The hair tumbled down and floated around her as she ducked under the surface and grabbed the jar. Peppermint oil for moisture. She rubbed it into her scalp.

"So that's how you get your hair so beautiful," Eomer grinned.

She spun around, trying to cover herself with her hands. "Eomer! Stand guard, you little pervert!"

"What? Do you think Elfhelm stares forward into the woods while a beautiful elven body stands behind him, bare as the day she was born? You know nothing of men, Nev."

"You indecent pig! I'll kill you! Turn around!"

"Come and get me!"

She didn't-couldn't-move. "Eomer, I am a married woman. This isn't right for either of us."

"It would be even worse if I joined you."

"Don't you dare!"

He laughed. "Don't make me. Drop your hands and keep washing your perfect blonde hair. Those breasts are too pretty to hide forever."

Tears began to run down her cheeks. "You sick bastard!"

He untucked his tunic from his belt. "It comes off in 10…. 9…."

As he counted, Nevlothiel dropped her hands and spun around, trying to ignore his gaze. She ducked under the water, cleaning her hair. And she thought, for a moment, of not coming back up.

***

"Nevlothiel, I was looking for you. Good news! There's a spring not too far away."

"I already bathed."

Elfhelm raised an eyebrow. "Who watched you?"

She winced. "Eomer."

He looked into her eyes for a moment, followed the trails of dried tears on her face. "Look, Nev… I may not be an elf, but I can read eyes well enough. If he did what I think he did…" He sighed deeply and rubbed the back of his neck. "What Eomer did was wrong. But know this, Nev- I would never hurt you like that. You are married and desperately in love with your husband. You have been hurt too many times. I love you, but only as the dearest of friends."

But his voice was deceiving and she filled with both a dread and a pity. "I know." Her voice was a whisper. Eomer's eyes still burned deep in her mind and she burst into tears a second time. But Elfhelm took her in his strong, steady arms and held her.

"Hush, Nev… Men are cruel creatures. If I could give you your Legolas, your beloved elf, I would in an instant. But for the moment, all there is in the world is you and me. Cry if you must." He stroked her hair.

"Not even Legolas can take away the pain all the time."

"Well how does he help you relax? I'll do anything."
She pressed her brow into his neck. "He does whatever he wants. He massages me or showers me with kisses… It depends."

"Well, close your eyes and wipe away the tears. I can help."

Slowly, she felt her shirt lifting, a rough hand moving on her soft skin. She knew she should stop him. She knew she didn't love him. But something inside her forced her to stay quiet as she was undressed.

Slowly he urged her back onto her bed and kissed her lightly. "Nevlothiel, I-"

"Hush…" The words of seduction that poured from her mouth felt bitter and strange. Fingers that were not hers reached and stroked his face, moved over his body. He pulled her to him and gently accomplished what every man who laid eyes on her longed for…

The next morning, she awoke, the unfamiliar feeling of male presence on her side. She remembered what Elfhelm had done, how different he was from Legolas. She dressed quickly, pulling her hair into the tight bun again. To her joy, no one was awake except the watchman. He waved casually.

There was a hill, a tall but steady climb. At the top, she could see for hundreds of miles. The white tower of Gondor to the south, the elvenking's realm at the northeast, the Misty Mountains and Lothlòrien to the west. Then, something caught her eye. A dark, blackened land on the east.

"Mordor," a voice said. Elfhelm placed a hand on her shoulder. "You don't want to go there."

"I know." She pulled away from him.

He sighed. "I am sorry about last night. It's just… Well…"

"I understand."

"And I swear on my honor that no one shall know."

"It never happened."

"Agreed." He paused. "But before it is, might I ask… how was it?"

A smile creeped across her mouth. "You little freak."

"Well?"

"It was marvelous."

"You are not to shabby yourself."

"I had training."

He nudged her. "You little slut…"

"I like my husband better."

"I bet if I enough wealth to buy all of Middle-Earth, it wouldn't be the case…"

"Shut up. It never happened starting… now!"

At that moment, a horn cried loudly. They both spun around in surprise. "It's Eomer," he breathed. "We have to go back." He made his way down the hill.

"It's not even fully light out yet!" She made a noise of frustration ::moo!:: and ran down into camp. She rolled up her mat, tossed her clothes into a bag they had given her, and ripped down the tent in lightening speed. She yanked on her helmet and leapt onto Alulema, determined to ignore Eomer's gaze.

When the riders had assembled, he mounted his horse and spun it around. "We are returning to Edoras tonight!" There was a cry of great joy from the men. "You will be returned to your women! Your children! Your homes! Ride hard, my brave Rohirrim- We know not what lies ahead."

They rode out instantly at full run. Eagerness seemed on everyone's lips. Yet no one spoke, afraid that their mouths might catch the wind, maybe. Nothing happened for the full day. They arrived in Edoras just before midnight, exhausted. Nevlothiel took Alulema to the stables and watched him drink his fill. When she had put him in the stable, she kissed his neck. "Good horse," she muttered.

But when she stepped outside, Eomer was waiting. He came over to her. "Nev- I need to take you to my sister's chambers. I fear that no private ones could be spared. Eowyn expects you, though, and has sent for an extra pallet."

"I am grateful for whatever can be given."

The steps wore on and on as she climbed them to one of the top floors. Eomer was patient, for he was also in need of rest. But just as he reached a hand to knock on the chamber door, it opened. A woman like Nevlothiel had never seen stepped out. Her hair was light like summer sunshine, her skin was slightly flushed. Her gown was black. Her gray eyes scowled at her brother. "Theodred is dead."

He grew pale. "Dead? I didn't know his condition was such! Why did you hide this news from me?"

"I thought you would be back by now."

"I would have come much quicker, had your message been more urgent."

She scoffed. "If I was not so tired, I would kill you. Maybe in the morning. Go mourn our cousin."

"I am grateful." He motioned towards, Nevlothiel. "This is-"

"A rider. Wow. Or maybe a suitor. Tell me, Eomer, haven't I told you not to do this again?"

Nevlothiel pulled off her helmet.

Eowyn's cold eyes focused on the hair and ears immediately. "An elf?" she exclaimed. "Where did you pick her up?"

"Elfhelm found her when we raided a party of orcs. We assume she was taken along as a plaything for them. Whatever the reason, we let her stay with us. She is the best archer in the riders, as well as best cook and storyteller. And though at the moment she is dirty and wearing men's clothes, she is very fair when she is clean."

Nevlothiel shot him an evil look. "You might know, you son-of-snakes."

He realized what he had said and quickly shut his mouth.

Eowyn smiled at her comment. "Come on in, elf."

"Her name is Nevlothiel." He went off.

She was led inside. The room itself was of decent enough size. Still, after so much open air, it felt tight and contained. The stone walls threatened to press in on her. "So… Tell me about yourself," the hostess said, sitting on her large canopy bed.

"I am married, from the great woods of Lothlorien, I can cook, sew, and fight…"

"You're married? To whom?"

Nevlothiel sat on her pallet. "Legolas Greenleaf, son of the king of Mirkwood."

"A prince!"

She nodded. "A prince. It would almost have been better if he were not. I have no desire to rule."

"Oh." Eowyn paused. "Was it for love you married? Were you a gift?"

"No, no… It was for love. For sheer, untainted love." She tried not to think of the night before.

"What is love like? I have never been in love…"

She sighed. "Well, let me change and wash some of the soot from my face. Love is difficult to explain and I am weary."
A bowl of warm water was called for. Eowyn lent Nevlothiel a white gown. It was very tight in the chest, but generally fit. She cleaned the dirt from her face, once again revealing her skin, which was no longer the pristine white it had appeared in Rivendell. She still was rather pale, but with a touch of tan. The tub turned black as she washed her hands and feet.

"You rode a great deal today…" the human whistled. She called for another bowl, in which Nevlothiel washed her hair.

She gave a deep sigh as she brushed through the wet strands. "Thank you so much. I feel far better."

"You do clean up nicely," Eowyn smiled. She handed the elf a towel and helped dry her hair. She grabbed the brush away and started to run it through. "Oh my… It's so soft… Can I play with it?"

"If you wish."

As she braided and unbraided the drying locks of hair, Nevlothiel sang to herself in her own language. "That's pretty," the girl commented. "What are you saying, though?"

Swallowing, she translated.

When the autumn leaves once fell

Came dancing the Tinuviel

Beren the bold himself was lost

In her eyes, like the frost

Freezing his soul

Freezing his soul

When the chill went away

She was gone, his heart affray

He vowed to love her

Through fire and water

His heart was aflame

His heart was aflame

When the summer winds blew

Beren stumbled, mind askew

On the hot ground he wept

And he had to accept

That he had lost her

That he had lost her

When the stars shone above

He heard a voice of his love

Rose to his feet and not waiting

For he had been anticipating

How she would go on

How she would go on

When he touched her wrist, she wailed

But Beren knew love prevailed

For when the mortal called her name

She froze and knew she'd lost the game

She had to give in

She had to give in

Eowyn listened in awe. The brush had not moved. "So that's what love is… A feeling. A notion to pursue a voice or a part of someone… Longing to see their face and admit defeat."

"Now you understand…" Nevlothiel smiled.

"It must be amazing to feel."

She nodded. "It warms the heart and soul. There is someone out there for everyone and once you find them, whether they are elf, man, hobbit, or dwarf, you know. And it hurts to see them go."

Eowyn's eyes, which once seemed like blue icicles, had melted into what appeared a darker color. It was more radiant than any flower in Lothlorien and sparkled more than a diamond in the sun. "My brother would never allow me to fall in love if he had a choice. To him I am another strategy for peace. He should just sell me some bloody Uruk-Hai." And the eyes grew cold again.

Nevlothiel made fists, but hid them. "Did Eomer tell you how Elfhelm found me?"

"No."

"As Eomer had said, I had been taken hostage along with three of my close friends. The Uruks decided to spare me for only one reason. Elfhelm found me with my skirts past my waist, a gag in my mouth, tears in my eyes, and an orc..." She took a painful breath. "He took its head off with his blade and jerked the body out of me. He picked me up and brought me out of the line of fire, where I blacked out. I awoke, clean and comfortable, on a cot, wrapped in linens. I owe him my life."

She took this in slowly, then swallowed. "And your friends?"

"Killed and burned along with the orcs, as it is your custom. Only a miracle, which my husband is looking for, might have occurred. They may have gotten away. I can only pray, but the shadow of doubt is getting blacker."

Neither spoke for a while. Eowyn finished the long-forgotten strands and carried the ivory comb to her vanity. "The hour grows late. I know you are weary," she whispered. "Do you need anything? Night clothes? Drink? Did you have anything to eat all day?"

"I'm all right." She hesitated. "No… Could I have a candle?"

Her hostess went to the vanity again and opened a drawer. She selected a red one and lit it on the oil lamp. Carrying the brass holder, Nevlothiel could see her hands were trembling, the flame flickering as she did so. She handed it over.

"Thank you," she breathed. She placed it at her side and lay down on the pallet.

Eowyn watched her for a moment, then slipped into her nightgown. She unpinned her hair, letting the long, golden strands shine. They draped over her shoulders.

"You should leave it down," Nevlothiel commented.

"I have my reasons not to," she said. Her voice shook. She blew out the main light, darkening the room save for the candle. When the gentle snores reached the elf's ears, she rolled out of bed and picked up her flame. Carrying it to the room's only window, she set it there and watched the wind kiss at it. It remained strong.

She peered out into the black night. It was the first time she had really felt alone in several months. Eowyn was asleep at her left, but could Eowyn protect her if something happened? She was used to having a man at her side, a strong hand and knife. She was used to her beloved fellowship with their watches. She was used to Boromir and Legolas' bickering, though she knew it would be impossible for that to happen again. She was used to Merry, telling the orcs to leave her alone, to not hurt Nev. She was used to Elfhelm, hand on his hilt and sitting outside the tent.

Somewhere in the city below, someone was crying. She swallowed and tried to stop her own tears. Wrapping her arms around herself, she thought of Legolas lying in the forest, his eyes eternally looking at the stars. Aragorn was at his side, coaxing Gimli as he jerked the arrows out of his friend's breast. As for the dwarf, he was beside himself. She crawled over to the pallet and let all of her grief spill over onto the pillow. She watched as the wind finally blew the candle out, taking the smoke on its fingers like souls.

***

"How was your stay last night?" Eowyn asked quietly as she handed her a goblet of white mead.

"Comfortable. Of course, any kind of rest is much welcome after a long ride." Nevlothiel looked around. "Where is Lord Eomer?"

The girl stopped everything. People kept talking about them. "My uncle has thrown him in jail…" she stuttered, trying to keep control.

"What! Why?" she cried.

She gave a small laugh. "Wormtongue told him that Eomer had been conspiring with Sauron's folk. They say he promised men for you."

Nevlothiel covered her mouth with her hand. "For me! What do they take me for? Some common whore? You must take me to your uncle."

After the main meal, Eowyn lead her down a long corridor covered in statues and portraits of the mortal kings. The last doors on the left were gigantic. The guards allowed them in and closed them with a loud clang!

About twenty dangerous-looking men's eyes followed them as they walked towards the throne. She tried to ignore them and held her head high. She caught whispers of their conversation- Sorceress, they hissed. At last, they reached the king, a decrepit man, whose unseeing eyes stared at the ceiling rafters.

Nevlothiel swallowed and bowed her head in respect. "My good king, Theoden. I am known as Nevlothiel, the new bride of Legolas Greenleaf, son of the Mirkwood king, Thranduil, and a handmaiden to the lady Galadriel of the golden wood. I have come to beg for Lord Eomer's freedom."

"For obviously she feels she must do as Sauron has bidden her," a voice hissed from the shadows. Eowyn grabbed her friend's arm as a man emerged, his raven-black hair hanging greasily in his face, his icy eyes and too-red lips curled into a cruel grin. "How long have you been trained to stay in his bed, slut? What a price he has placed on your golden head…"

"Who are you?" she whispered, her courage fleeting at the pale creature's face.

He bowed, his expensive furs ruffling. "Grima Wormtongue, the king's councilor."

"I hardly have to ask whether it was you who gave birth to this story." She took a step forward. "Have you spoken with Lord Eomer on these matters? Is he to be given a trial?"

"He is a traitor, we all know this. Don't we, Eowyn?" He turned his gaze onto her. She nodded weakly. "So why does scum like him deserve a trial?"

"I have my own reasons to dislike him, Grima. But I know he as much a friend of Sauron as I am a sorceress of the elves. You must know nothing of us. We have little magic."

He glared at her. "But you do know some."

"We all do. But only basic things."

"Can you produce fire from your fingers without getting burned?" He grabbed a stick of dry firewood. "Light this."

"Don't…" Eowyn whispered.

Her warning came too late. Nevlothiel snapped her fingers without another thought and placed the blue fire onto the stick. "All elves can do it. This is a second-nature to me."

He stared at it for a moment. "What are the other so-called basics?"

She thought. "Mind reading, far seeing, some flashes of the future, and very simple transfigurations."

"Transfigurations? This sounds like the work of a sorceress…"

"It was taught to me by my lady."

He considered this. "Show me."

She scoffed. "So you can lock me away?"

"I'll toss you into the dungeon right now if I choose."

Nevlothiel closed her eyes. The roots of her hair turned black. The color began to spread through the lengths, which were straightening. Her skin grew pale again. Her chest grew flatter and her ears lost their points. When she looked out again at the amazed crowd, she saw with violet eyes.

"And now she looks like a sorceress as well. Nevlothiel of Lorien, is this indeed still basic magic? To change your looks to enchant men and elves? I place you under arrest for the use of witchcraft."

She snapped back into her normal body before a blink of an eye. "No! You cannot do this!"

"I have witnesses to these deeds as well. Men! Take her away. Put her in…" He laughed cruelly. "Put her in Lord Eomer's cell."

"What right have you to do this, Wormtongue? What of my uncle? Is he not the king?" Eowyn wept. She ran to her guardian and pressed her face to his hand.

"You know very well it is no use. He listens to my every word."

Nevlothiel was dragged forcefully into the dungeon and tossed into Eomer's cell. He caught her just before her head smacked into the stone. "Why are you in here?" he asked her.

"They brought you your enchantress," she whispered as she watched them close the door.

For two nights, they talked and slept in the tiny cell. She regained her trust in him, for he explained how a madness had taken him that night. He was kind and offered her the cot as she rested, taking the muddy floor as his own bed. On the third day, around noon, the door was opened.

"You have one hour to make yourselves presentable," the guard barked, shoving a fresh gown into Nevlothiel's arms. Eomer was given a fresh tunic.

"Why are we being freed?" she asked.

"You'll see, lady."

There was a suite that could be spared when a relative had gone. A tub of hot water waited in it. Nevlothiel closed the door and spent the first few minutes taking in the warmth, then quickly washing her hair. Eowyn's gown was ruined, its once pale pink had become brown. She would make her a new one.

The flame red gown fit her better in the chest. She dried her hair as best as she could and brushed it. The hour was up before she knew it. A guard burst in and grabbed her wrist. He dragged her roughly down the stairs and into the throne room. He flung her to the ground and she hit the stone floor roughly.

A warm pair of hands grabbed her shoulders and set her upright. Her eyes peered into the familiar blue depths.

"Legolas!" she cried.

He pressed his lips to her brow. "I am so sorry, Nev… It was folly for me to do this… You have every right to hate me."

"It's not possible for her to hate you," Eomer commented. "No matter where she goes, no matter what happens, you are in her mind's eye."

"Didn't forget about us, did you?" Aragorn said, touching her back. She tossed her arms around his neck and kissed his cheek. She then faced Gimli and removed his helmet, pecking the top of his russet-hair. He blushed.

But when she turned to Legolas, he was not there.

In his place stood another familiar face. One long gone…

She couldn't help but stare. She pressed a hand to her mouth in shock, unsure of what to do. It was he who spoke first.

"So you're married, I see. I always knew you had a thing for Legolas…" His eyes smiled and he opened his arms to her.

Tears ran down her cheeks as she ran into them. "Oh, Mithrandir! I thought you dead! I've missed you so!" she cried.

"I couldn't be gone for too long. I'd miss seeing my favorite lady." He patted her back. "And so much has happened to you… Weddings, funerals, babies, delinquencies… I just wish I could have seen your eyes when you said `I do.'"

"You were always like a father to me, Mithrandir…"

He grinned. "Mithrandir… I love the way you say that… I remember when you were just a wee girl, how you would cry it out. You were always the prettiest little thing."

"We found him in Fangorn. I am afraid to report that we could not locate our hobbits, but the wizard claims they are alive and well," Gimli grunted.

"You have seen them?" she asked.

"I have. That Di is really shooting up. Very lovely. She was so worried about you, but at the moment has Pippin to console her in ways very similar to your beloved husband… "

She let out a sigh. Her chest seemed instantly lighter. "I am glad of this…"

Another hand touched her shoulder. "Is this her, Legolas? Oh my… I can see why she was accused of being an enchantress…" The voice was deep with tiredness and pain. "A regular Tinuviel, that's for sure."

She turned and faced Theoden. She was surprised at the change. It was as though he had lost forty years in three days. She smiled weakly. "I am nothing special."

"My lady Nevlothiel…" He fell to one knee. "You must forgive my blindness. Saruman had a long spell on me. What Grima Wormtongue has done to my people behind my own back is terrifying. I am glad to say the son-of-snakes is gone."

Placing a hand on his head, she forgave him. "I do not hold a grudge against you, my liege. You have seen your wrongs and made them well again. It takes much for one to admit their mistakes."

Eowyn watched as all the men laughed and smiled at her. She watched as Legolas seemed to be connected to her, his hand always on her waist or shoulder. Only one of these stood apart from the throng. She walked towards him.

"Sir?" she asked.

Aragorn turned and looked. "My lady," he said with a nod.

"Do you know that girl?"

"Nevlothiel? Of course. Her husband is my closest friend…" He paused. "We once loved the same woman, but that was long ago. Evlangion has been dead for years." He sighed.

"Why do you stand away from them?" she inquired.

He rolled his head so the back pressed against the wall. "Because I know when I'm not needed."

"Tell me… Over the last few days, I have made a strong acquaintance with Nevlothiel… Is he a good man, your friend?"

He stared at her, then let out a small laugh. "He is better than most. His love for her is deep. You have no worries, Lady Eowyn."

"No indeed, Lord Aragorn."

He licked his lips. "Very well then."

***

"So what is Helm's Deep like, Eowyn?" Nevlothiel asked. Their horses were abreast. Legolas' hand was around his wife's waist, the other on Alulema's neck.

"I have never been there, I must admit. I hear it is beautiful, but very damp."

The elf nodded slightly. "How long do you think we shall be there?"

"Uncle said that it could be as long a full month," she sighed.

"It may be for longer," Legolas commented. "There might be a siege."

Nev frowned. "Don't talk like that."

"There might be a siege. And Nev? If there is, I will fight."

::I hate describing things when nothing is going on…::***

"Theoden! Theoden!" Aragorn stomped into the throne room, Legolas and Gimli at his side. "It is as we feared. The scouts have spied an army of Uruk-Hai, bearing the white mark of Saruman. That snake, Wormtongue, has told him of this place no doubt. They will be here by midnight tomorrow."

The king's face fell. "No…How many?"

Aragorn swallowed and stopped his strides. "My liege… There are ten thousand. We have about two thousand men who can fight."

Theoden pressed a hand to his brow. Eowyn touched his shoulder gently.

"We cannot surrender," Gimli barked.

"Hush, dwarf. We must give him time to think." Legolas ushered him out. Several women outside of the doors stared at him. Some of the younger ones giggled. Gimli stomped off as the elf strode off along the wall.

His lover sat high on a parapet, a pen cleverly sketching her mind. Her lavender skirt blew in the north wind, just showing her thin calves. She glanced down at him. "What does Theoden say?" she whispered.

"I know he will have us fight." He held out a hand, helping her to the ground. "The ratios are not good. Many shall die."

"I'm not afraid of death."

He stopped. "Don't you dare think that you are joining us…"

"What do you mean? Of course I am fighting."

"No."

"Have you forgotten already? I was chosen for this journey. I have skill with a bow and with a sword. Why else would Elrond sign me on? He knew this might happen."

Legolas clenched his fist. "I am your husband. You will do as I say."

"I will not. I will fight, whether I have to guise myself. Besides, we have a shortage of men."

"But Eowyn needs you with the women. Nevlothiel, I cannot let you participate. I can't risk losing you…"

"You have done so many times. I am going to help. There is no use arguing the matter." She started to walk away.

He followed her. "You don't understand the seriousness of this. This isn't just a scattering of orcs like in Moria. This is suicide. If I die, who will-"

She had stopped. Her eyes were locked with Elfhelm's. He was frozen as well. "Nevlothiel. Legolas."

"Elfhelm." Her voice was flat.

He kissed her cheek, his eyes darting towards her husband. "I heard you were in jail. Are you all right?"

"Very much so."

Someone called for the rider. He said a quick farewell and ran off. Legolas had caught everything. He clenched his fist as she stared after him.

"He's your rider friend. You slept with him," he swallowed. "Didn't you?"

"You have no proof." She rushed down the stairs, her book slipping from her arm as she gained speed.

Her tone infuriated him. "Nevlothiel! Get back here! Don't you realize how you have shamed me with your behavior? The prince's wife is a whore! A sorceress! Always getting into trouble. What a shame you are to me, woman!" Every word hit their target.

She stopped and faced him. Tears of anger gushed forth. "Then why did you marry me? How dare you accuse me when all I am is because of you! You abandoned me at Amon Hen. You allowed me to be raped by Uruk-Hai. You allowed me to travel with a band of strange men. A real husband would stand beside his love, hold her tight. Or maybe you have forgotten that. Evlangion would have lived if not for you." She grabbed the ladder and crawled down, leaving Legolas speechless on top of the wall. He watched her with a sense of hatred and pity as she ran inside the fortress.

"Oh my… She's a little fireball," Gimli grunted.

"But god knows it's light shows a way…" He covered his eyes with a hand and let himself fall against the wall. "She always knows how to hit me where it hurts…"

The dwarf sighed and patted his friend's knee. "If only Aragorn could be here. He can heal your wounds more than I. But all I can say is that she has as much of a right to be upset as you. You, of course, have been cheated on. She blames you for the situation. But you see, elf… What is done is done. Make up with her in a few hours. Let her beg forgiveness. It all will work out in the end."

Legolas let out a shuddering sigh and bowed his head. "There is only one way for me to forgive her. It is unthinkable. I refuse to let her fight. She is so fragile and-"

"And yet strong enough to kill many. She is made of tougher stuff than we are. From what I hear, before her grandfather vanished, he was the mightiest of all elven-warriors. Besides… Put yourself in her shoes. Legolas, if you do die, you will be with Evlangion and eternally happy. She has no one here. Also, what can we do? She'll find a way. She can transform herself if she must."

"No, Gimli. I won't risk losing her. I have lost every woman I have ever loved before her. If I knew she were gone, I would cut my throat gladly. A life without love is not worth living. This is why I am here- to fight to the end, knowing that if we fail, she will be hurt. When I met her in Rivendell and first gazed into her eyes, I knew the ring had to be destroyed. Evil could not exist in her world. And it won't. I can't allow it."

Gimli took a deep breath. "I fear it already does."

"You don't understand… To you, she is just a woman. To me, she is my heart. In Nevlothiel lies the future of Mirkwood. In her womb is my son, my own prince. I have longed for a child of my own for my whole life. Sauron has made sure this cannot be the case, for he has killed one and destroyed the other. If Sauron is defeated, I want Nevlothiel ready and alive. I want her to be my child's mother." He rose to his feet and began to walk along the wall.

"Where are you going?" the dwarf asked. He followed him.

Legolas made his way down the steps and picked up his wife's book. He tossed it to Gimli. "Look through those. She has a talent for art." He stomped down the ladder and disappeared.

***

"Nev?" a gentle voice called out.

"Go away, Legolas."

"You can't stay mad at me forever. Not tonight. Not when tomorrow holds so much destruction."
She gave a deep sigh. "Is that all I am to you? A mere woman who shares your bed? If it is, Legolas, then come lie with me. If I am not, then accept what you have done."

He moved to her and knelt at her side. "Nev… How can you say such things? Have I made you this way? I used to adore your confidence…"

"Answer the question."

He began to play with her hair. "Oh, Nev… I love you. Don't you understand this? I can never dream of anything but you. I wake every morning and thank the gods for creating you. How can you blame me for acting like a mad man?"

"I want to fight."

"I know."

"If you want to resolve this, let me."

He placed his arms around her. "I owe you nothing, Nevlothiel…"

She shuddered. "You deserve to hate me… I am such a disgrace to you…"

"You didn't lie with my best friend like my last lover." He bit his lip. "This cuts me deeply, though- I can't lie to you. If you do it one more time, I fear that I will have to rethink our marriage…"

She nodded slightly. "I understand." She kissed his cheek. "I was another woman that night…"

"Now that we are all satisfied with forgiveness and other things, I've brought you a gift." He set several knives on the table. "These are for tomorrow night. One sword is not enough to defeat an army…"

They spent their nights in the other's arms. Legolas awoke to her curled against his chest. His first thought was that it could be his last time with her like that, innocent and alive. He swore to himself that if she died on the battlefield, he would be there to hold her. The others would understand why he killed himself if this happened. For if he could not live for love, what else could he live for? There would not be a third woman for him. He knew this.

As the sun crept higher into the sky, they ventured out, hand in hand. Appropriate and broken gray clouds hung like a dead man above them. All about, people moved slowly, frightened. Trebuchets shadowed the walls. Riders steadied their horses. Young boys, under twelve summers, made their way to the armory.

Elfhelm caught sight of Nevlothiel. He made his way over, though cautiously. Legolas gripped his lover's hand as he approached. The human held his palm towards them as a friendly gesture. "I am aware you don't like me, Legolas, and you have every reason. I merely want to wish you luck tonight. It comforts me to know we have friends of other regions in our midst. I am glad to say I know a prince of Mirkwood."

"I am glad to say I know a brave Rohirrim like yourself, who is strong enough to approach the woman he slept with and make peace with her husband. It takes courage. And I respect you, Elfhelm." Legolas nodded his head in a quick bow.

Nevlothiel smiled. "And I am glad to say I have a friend among friends, who would die for me many times over. It takes heart to prove yourself." She embraced him. "Farewell. I pray we meet again, well and alive." She let herself accept a sweet, light kiss from the man.

***

"Aragorn…Do you remember where I hid my personal heirlooms and my other riches?"

Hesitantly, he nodded. "Under the fourth floor board from the door in your old cabin."

Legolas swallowed. "If I die tonight, and you live, I want you to take Nevlothiel there. You can have what you think is a reasonable price. She gets the rest. Is that clear?"

"As crystal."

"You are a good friend to me, Aragorn. I am hardly worthy." He embraced him as Nevlothiel came down the stairs. She was dressed in her riding clothes, which had been cleaned. Her hair was down this time. Legolas, with shaky hands, offered to help her get the chain mail on. He couldn't bring himself to do the armor. Strider had to. The look in all of their eyes was unbearable.

A shrill cry of a conch blew in the distance, startling them.

"That is no orc horn," Aragorn smiled. He ran to the doorway and up the stairs. Nevlothiel and Legolas followed.

They arrived just in time to see hundreds on Lorien foot soldiers and archers marching silently into Helm's Deep, their spears and bows catching the moonlight. Haldir stepped forward from the sortie.

"Elves and men were once great allies. The lady of the forest remembers the allegiance and has heard the call for arms. It may never be what it once was, but we shall rebuild what glory we can find is left." Theoden nodded in agreement.

"The elves have come to our aid. They are much welcome," Aragorn grinned. Haldir was caught off-guard by the large embrace. As the archer pulled away, he turned to see his former flame and the boy who had won her.

"Legolas! I am glad to see your face! I hope you haven't beaten my Nevlothiel up too hard." The prince tossed him a wan smile and shook his hand.

"Oh, Legolas… So anti-social…" Nevlothiel tossed her arms around Haldir's neck and kissed him on the lips gently. "How are you, old friend?"

"I am just fine now." He ran a hand through her hair, causing some chuckles from the foot soldiers. "I swear you get more beautiful every time I see you. Are you fighting? Legolas, are you letting her?" She nodded. "Oh, Nevlothiel… I wish you the best of luck. My brothers and I have trained you well."

"Are we not included?" Annunostion commented, stepping forth.

Morinzilion scoffed. "I suppose not."

Nev embraced her brothers, then realized the time was drawing near. The dark sky rumbled, as though telling them not to wait. The men and elves seemed to know what to do as they ran to the wall and onto the ground. Legolas found a spot for them upon the wall.

Aragorn assumed his position of power instantly. He walked behind the main wall, encouraging, enraging the soldiers. Haldir came to his friend's side. He touched her shoulder and swallowed loudly. "They are here."

With that, a chilling cry blew through the thick air. The Uruk-Hai became visible on top of the deep. Slowly, they marched forward, each step sending chills through her. Legolas' breathing increased. He reached out and took his wife's hand.

"I love you," he said clearly. "And if I die, know that I still do. You are my soul, Nevlothiel. I tell the world this gladly." He grabbed her and took one good look into her eyes, his heart pounding faster than ever before. He kissed her deeply, letting all his passion, fear, and grief flow between them. When he released, he did not care about anyone but her. When she was gone, he would be as well.

"This is the way it was meant to be," Aragorn said. "To love is to see the face of God, Legolas. Give him courage, Nev."

"I hope the courage lasts the night," Gimli grunted.

"Your friends are with you, Aragorn," Nevlothiel firmly stated. Her expression showed no fear.

"I hope they last the night," Gimli smiled.

Annunostion took his bow off of his right shoulder. "These Uruk-Hai shall taste my fury. May every arrow let them know what they have done to me. I fight for Luinros. I fight for my daughter, Pheradar. I fight for my son, Andkris. I fight for my family, which was given no mercy. Damn them all."

Haldir nodded. "And I? I fight for my brothers, Orophin and Rumil, one that is at my side tonight. I fight for my lady, Galadriel, and my lord, Celeborn. I fight for the right of the world and the destruction of the ring. I fight for men, and elves, and dwarves. I fight for Nevlothiel and her siblings. I fight for the future of Lothlorien in my friend's womb."

Morinzilion drew his sword and held it high, a menacing warning to all those who challenge him, his black hair whipping about. "Why am I here? I am here for I have been summoned as Manwe's right hand. I fight for my sister and her husband. I fight for my brother and his slain family. I fight for the misunderstood and the downcast. We cannot be forgotten on this battlefield. Listen to the trumpets call, singing. Bravery is free, men!"

Aragorn smiled, pacing, listening. "This is good… This is very good…"

Legolas looked to the sky and saw a flash of lightening. "There are no stars to night, for my lineage has forsaken me. Prince of Mirkwood, they named me at birth. But, my brothers, where art thou? Tonight, and tonight alone, I am a common soldier of Lothlorien. Yet, hear me now, my brothers and sisters, home in your beds- I have done it. I have come so far. I will prove to you, Father, that Manarda is nothing. He will never be anything more than your firstborn son. And yet is it not a prince who stands still, who has come to right the wrongs of a forgetful and cruel nation? Is a prince not supposed to stand, looking at the enemy and caring only for those surrounding him? I fight for that cause and the cause of something stronger. I fight for the women in the caves. I fight for my own woman, at my side. Dare I speak her name? If I do, perhaps she shall fade. I dare it. I fight for Nevlothiel. I fight for my unborn children. I fight for my other heart, which was lost on their swords so long ago. Lasta Lalaithamin! Protect us all as we go into battle."

Nevlothiel straightened herself and stared out to the deep on the ever-impending doom to come. "I have heard the cry of new born babes. I have touched the lips of strongest love. I have drank from the river of deception. And yet, now comes my true test. How easy it would have been to hide tonight! But I must face the storm of truth. I fight now for the strength of women, of all women, for we may not draw the bow, but we go on. We are strong. We are stern. We hold fast as our brothers, lovers, and children die. I fight for truth. I fight for love. I fight for the right to have the simple joys in life. I fight for Boromir. I fight for Frodo and Sam. I fight for Diamond, Merry, and Pippin. I fight for Gandalf. I fight for those with me tonight. It was once said that I was a sorceress. Well, I shall prove them all correct. For I have come here to fight by the magic of love and strength, which not all elves or women possess. Now it is time to draw your sword. Now it is time to bend your bow. Now it is time when there can be no failure. We will defeat you, Sauron, for we are strong."

"For Lorien!" Haldir cried into the night.

"For Lorien!" called the elves.

"For Rohan!" Eomer rallied.

"For Rohan!" screamed the men.

"And so it begins," Theoden whispered.

The Uruk-Hai stood abreast of the wall, blowing their horrible horns, chanting death threats, banging their spears. Nevlothiel felt sick to her stomach in a flash, but forced herself to be strong. She bent her bow quickly and slipped an arrow position.

"Are you sure you can do this?" Legolas whispered. "If you run to the caves now, you have a chance."

"What? And let you have all the fun?" she replied with a small smile.

He gave a small chuckle despite himself. "The armor is weak in the neck and under the arms. Don't forget this."

Aragorn gave the cry. They let loose the first wave of arrows. Another cry. Repeating the motion. Again. Again. Again.

::See Helm's Deep. I'm too lazy…::

Something caught her eye. A torchbearer rushed towards the Watergate. They must have planted explosives when her gaze was turned, she thought. She shot at it and missed, though it did hit one in the neck.

"Kill it, Legolas," came Aragorn's rough voice.

Her lover did as he was told. The Uruk gave a cry of pain and stumbled, but kept running.

"Kill it!"

Again, he tried. He almost succeeded again, but the beast was almost at the wall. It threw the torch and fell. Nevlothiel was tossed back by the force of the explosion. She fell, unconscious, and hit her head on the stone work.

Legolas got up quickly and ran to her side. "Nev!" he screamed. He slapped her cheek roughly and shook her. She came around and gave a pained sigh. "Are you all right?" he asked.

"My-my head…"

He reached around to the back and felt something wet on his hands. Praying that it was only drops of rain, he stared at it. Blood. He rolled her over gently and gave a slight gasp. Her hair was completely red with it. The wound itself was small, but deadly. "I shouldn't have let you come…" he muttered angrily.

"I can still fight. I'm well." She rose to her feet. The blood flowed a little slower.

"I won't let you, Nev," he firmly stated. "Lie down, play dead. Dodge their feet. It's too dangerous."

"Legolas!" she cried. In an instant, Nesmondel fell to the ground, covered in blood. An Uruk Hai's head rolled. She took a deep breath and picked the sword up. "We cannot linger."

He rose shakily to his feet, then nodded to her. "I hate this."

An hour later, Nevlothiel tried not to step on the bodies as she ran like hell towards Legolas, who was on his knees from a blow. She fired an arrow into his assassin's head and fell to his side. The clout had hit his ear. She ripped a piece of her cloak and applied pressure. "Keep fighting. We can't stop."

He sat for no more than a few seconds, clenching his teeth in pain. He then rose and took a few stumbling steps before he gained his footing. "Don't…look…" His hand grabbed her and pulled her against him. Just behind her she heard a cry of pain. Something hit her leg.

When he let her go, she gave a short scream when she saw Orophin's head, mouth still moving in prayer, his crimson blood dirtying the ground. "Orophin! Oh! Orophin!" She fell to the ground and reached for the body.

"We cannot stop to lament for every man who falls!" Aragorn brutally shouted. "Get her up, Legolas, before she gets us all killed!"

"We can't win this!" the elf replied. "We have lost too many."

The ranger clenched his fists and took a deep breath. "I know. We have to go on. Would you like your pretty wife raped again, this time before your eyes? Thirty minutes. Then we shall retreat into the deep. Stay with Nev." He turned and ran into the main throng.

"Get up."

Nevlothiel raised her head, tears covering her face.

"Get up. Now." Her husband grabbed her arm and jerked her painfully to her feet.

"I've known him since I was a child-"

"And when I die, what will you do? Come on! A little longer!" He took a step and fired a shot at an Uruk beneath him.

For half an hour she fought blindly. She remembered little. There were ladders. There was Legolas searching for Gimli with no avail. Annunostion's smallest finger was sliced off. And then, she heard it.

"Into the keep! Haldir, send your men into the keep!" Aragorn commanded.

Haldir was to her left. She rushed over to him and grabbed his arm. "Come on, Haldir! It'll be over soon!"

He smiled as he ran along side her. "I no longer care what happens… I want this to end! Into the keep!" The few soldiers who were living ran towards it. One hit Nevlothiel directly, sending her to the ground. She struggled to her feet and turned to see her friend.

Just as the Uruk-Hai stabbed the sword into his stomach.

Just as the one behind him sent the axe into his skull.

A scream of horror like none had ever heard escaped her lips as he fell to his knees. The enemies had turned away, blending into the crowd. Haldir stared at her, his bright violet eyes filled with shock and pain. She grabbed him as he slumped forward and laid him on his back. His chilling blood ran down her armor as she closed her eyes, praying harder than ever.

"Nevlothiel?" he whispered.

"Don't speak."

"It hurts…" His eyes glazed slightly from pain. "Oh, Nev… Stay with me… you're so warm…"

Legolas had caught up. He bit his lip.

"You… you were always there for me…I am sorry I never spoke… But I always did… did love you… What it must have been like… those years… I am sorry, Nev…"

"Hush, Haldir. It is all in the past now. You are my dearest friend."

"I… I love you…I love….." His head fell back onto her shoulder. His dead lips rolled against her neck.

She turned her head so that they touched her own lips, sealing the forbidden kiss which only death had brought. It was the sweetest thing she had ever done, ever tasted, like frozen sugar, like snow. Legolas looked down, knowing she was feeling what he had when Evlangion was discovered. He knew he could never replace her greatest friend, no matter how hard he tried. A great void filled his heart. She looked up at him, her eyes glittering with gentle tears. He noticed.

They seemed different.

Changed.

The eyes he had once loved so much, the ones Boromir had longed to stare into forever, were gone. The innocence had left. She rose.

"We must get into the keep." Her voice was flat. She turned and began to run.

***

"Nevlothiel…"

"Yes?"

"I am sorry. I never should have let you fight."

"I killed him."

"What? Who?"

"Haldir. I killed him."

"Do not blame yourself, Nev."

"I want to be blamed. I want to be hurt. I deserve it."

"I know how you feel."

"No. You do not."

"I do. I know you loved him. Perhaps more than you love me. You should have married him. If you had promised to marry Haldir, instead of myself, then you would never have gotten pregnant. You would have been happy."

"But I did not marry him, Legolas. I married you. And I am happy…"

"Then what is wrong?"

"I want to stop. The fellowship is dead. I am so tired. I killed my child so I could go on. But now I see that I should have stayed in Lorien. The option is long gone. Still, I long to refrain from this life of travel. I want to go to Mirkwood. I want to sleep in a real bed. I want to hold my man tight. I want to bear his children. And I understand that there is no place for this during this cruel war."

"I understand."

"Then… May I have leave?"

"I must consult Aragorn. He will not like it. But… perhaps it is indeed best."

"Thank you."

"I will miss you."

"But you will return for me?"

"I will always return for you. I love you. More than life itself. You are my one reason to go on."

***

Legolas returned, his eyes full of his weariness. "You will ride northeast to Mirkwood at dawn. I have arranged for some of Eomer's men to take you."

She grinned and tossed her arms around his neck. "Oh, my Legolas! I cannot thank you enough."

He flopped onto the bed. "Let me sleep, woman."

"Oh. Sure. Just leave me for who knows how long without so much as a kiss," she teased.

"Never satisfied, are you?" he grinned.

"No."

He gave a deep sigh.

***

The dawn began to creep over the horizon. Nevlothiel woke to a knock on the door. She scrambled for her robe and slipped it on. She opened the doorway and saw Elfhelm, Danonir, and Sariel. Elfhelm kissed her cheek. "I doubt you are ready. We came a little early to help you pack."

"If that's alright," Sariel blurted.

"You being married and all," Danonir smiled.

"One moment please." She ducked back inside and shook Legolas.

He groaned. "Don't wake me up yet… I packed your stuff while you were asleep… Bring the fourteen notes on the table…"

"Fine then." She stuffed them into her bag and started to pull on her gown. She stopped. "Elfhelm?" she called. "Should I wear my riding clothes?" They were draped over the backboard, forgotten during their surge of passion last night. The tunic, once a flaxen color, was deep red.

"You don't have to. We're going at a steady enough speed, nothing like we did to get to Edoras."

She pulled it on the rest of the way and fixed her hair quickly. She nudged her husband. "At least say farewell."

"Farewell," he mumbled. He kissed her firmly, then rolled over again. "I love you," he whispered.

"I love you too." She opened the door and adjusted her bags over her shoulder. Brief farewells were given out to Eomer, Eowyn, Gimli, Aragorn and Gandalf before she agreed to go. Alulema hung his head down a bit more than usual, she noticed, as they rode forth.

***

"So… Does your husband beat you?" Danonir asked.

"Dan!" Elfhelm cast him a look as he set up the tents.

He shrugged. "Well, think about it. She is afraid to be without him, she married him because of a child, and she had an affair with you."

Her eyes snapped up. "What."

"You slept with Elfhelm."

She clenched her fists, her head spinning in the man's direction. "You told! You little bastard! How dare you do such a thing when you know it was mostly your doing!"

The guilty party tightened a rope and faced her. "I told no one, Nev. I am ashamed as much as you are about the whole situation."

"So how does he know?"

"There were men on the wall when you had your little spat at Helm's Deep."

Danonir shrugged. "You were quite loud…"

"I heard it too," Sariel commented.

"And I hardly think it was only my fault… You seemed quite willing to let me-"

"Tell the whole world, for all I care!" she cried.

"Calm down, sweetie. No one gives a damn." Danonir reached out and patted her arm. "It's all right, miss."

She glared at him. "And I did not marry him because of a child. I was engaged before I found out about the pregnancy. My husband has never raised his hand at me in anger. He loves me too much."

"But do you love your husband?" Sariel asked.

Nevlothiel nodded immediately. "With all of my heart. He is the reason I breathe."

"So why did you lie with Elfhelm?"

"It was mostly- not entirely- my fault." He came over and wiped the sweat from his brow. "But more than my own was Eomer's. He had given her a great fright, acting like a pervert as she bathed. The poor creature was in tears when I found her."

"And let me guess. You tried to comfort her, then as night came, one thing led to another." Danonir's voice was flat.

The rider nodded.

"Legolas was crushed at first, but learned to accept it." The elf started their supper.

"Stop, Nev."

"Stop what?"

"Dinner."

She did, though curiously. Setting the pot on the ground again, she heard it.

A birdcall.

The men fell deathly silent, not moving for their weapons. They all waited for over a minute for another.

Something sharp came against the elf's neck. She inhaled slowly, her hand moving for her dagger. "Stop. Now. Don't make me hurt you," hissed a deep voice. She halted. Her captor drew a cloth over her eyes and mouth before binding her wrists.

"What is her name?"

"Nevlothiel of Lorien, captain," whispered Elfhelm's voice. "Married to Legolas of Mirkwood, son of the forest king."

There was a jingling of coins. "I thank you for your services, men. My regards to Lord Eomer…"

"Be gentle with her. I fear we have all grown slightly fond of her foods, her stories, and her beauty." It was Sariel. "And… She is wed to a man of much power. Be careful what you do to her body."

The strange man grabbed her tied hand and pulled her upon a horse. "I will be careful if I can, boy. Chances remain likely that she chooses her own treatment." She felt his presence as he climbed up behind her and nudged the beast forward. Her stomach lurched as she pictured her friend, her confidante, watching her with blank eyes as he counted his coins.

***

How long they rode, a full night or several, she did not know. But as he slid off, she found herself weary and starved. The gag was removed and she gasped for air, her mouth aching. She was helped to the ground, where she fell, her legs like jelly, and lay while the noises of making a fire began.

"It's a shame I have to bind your hands," the man commented. "A sorceress can light a fire in a matter of seconds, despite most weather. Instead I have to do all the work, as usual."

"Please let me go," she pleaded. "Why did you take me? I have no information of Mirkwood, if that is what you want."

He laughed. "And why would I need such information?"

"They called you captain."

"Observant." Footsteps moved toward her. A moment later, she felt her hands freed, then her eyes. "Remove your weapons, if you wish to keep the privilege of no bindings. I have given up on this damn fire."

The man was heavily cloaked, his identity impossible. He was tall, she could see, and the eyes that peered from his mask were kind and gray. Familiar eyes. His strength was clearly great from the broadness of his shoulders. Such a man was not to be reckoned with, this was obvious enough. She handed him the knife from within her cloak. "The rest were strapped to my horse, Alulema, save my bow and quiver, which were by the fire."

"Hm." He gestured to the pile of damp wood. She casually raised a finger; the blue flames instantly bursting forth with their warming glow. He stared at it for a moment before sitting before them. "Well done. I could get used to this."

"Please… I ask you again to let me go."

"No."

"But I know nothing, for I assume you want information of some sort. If you wanted money, you would not have so generously paid for me."

The eyes smiled slightly. "Clever. More clever than many women."

"I know nothing. I am useless to you."

"Not quite useless. I can find a use for you among my men, if it comes to such." He looked her over quickly. "Yes… they wouldn't hesitate long to have you…"
She crossed her arms over her chest. "I am not a common whore, you bastard."

He chuckled. "Of course not. Please understand, my lady, that I mean to do you no harm. Such a kind one, with a witty tongue. I like that. We could be good friends, you and I."

"This is not possible, assassin. Who are you?"

He rubbed his hands over the fire. "No one of importance. Just a common criminal, but slightly more courteous, a little wealthier than most. I will treat you well enough, if you do indeed deserve such treatment. Please. Sit down. You must be tired." His pack was opened and he pulled out traveling provisions.

She sat down on a nearby log. She declined all but a bit of dried fruit.

"I am sorry there are no finer things to eat. When we reach Ith- When we get to my men, there will be bread, meat, cheese, and plenty of ale. Of course, it will probably be nothing compared to your elvish food, which are fabled."

"I find that many elvish things are merely fables in these lands. Their simple mannerisms, for example," she replied blandly. "Where are you taking me?"

He tossed her a look. "Would you prefer I removed my cloak? You seem so uncomfortable…"

"I would prefer it, yes."

He gave a slight sigh, then moved to unclasp it. It fell to the ground, revealing a well-shaped body. He untied the mask. The gray eyes smiled at her reaction, as well as thin lips.

"You- You remind me of someone… Dear god, yes…"

He tucked his curly rust-colored hair behind his ears. "Do I now? Perhaps to an elf, most Gondorians look the same. It would be a lie to say that all elves are distinguishable. Still, my lady, you surprised me. You would indeed stand broad in a crowd."

Though she hated to admit it, she found him rather attractive. A blush rose to her cheeks. "So I hear."

The man bit into a strip of jerky. Silence fell between them. "You'll like Ithilien, I think."

"Ithilien? We're going to Ithilien?"

"Indeed. It could use a woman's touch, most certainly. I hear you know many tales. Would you share with my men these? They enjoy a good fable."

A smile brushed across her lips. "Doesn't everyone? I know enough tales to last a year and one night."

"You're hired."

"Like I have a choice."

"Don't start sassing me. Save it for your husband."

She tossed him a look. "Do you have a lover?"

He returned the courtesy. "No."

"Never?"

"Never."

"Are you a virgin then?"

"You don't even know my name. Don't ask such questions."

"I'll take that as a yes."

"No, I am not a virgin. Not many traveling men are. Especially cutthroats and kidnappers such as myself. Little women like you fall easily to me."

She grinned openly. "Is that a threat, Faramir?"

"No. Jus-" He stopped. "What?"

"Your name. It's Faramir."

He gaped at her. "How did you know?"

"I assumed it. I-" She thought for a moment. "I was described your appearance by… a few of the riders."

"A good memory, a quick tongue, and observant." Faramir rolled his eyes. "Any way, I am not a virgin."

"Because you rape people?"

"Sometimes. If they don't shut up."

"I'm terrified."

"Hey!"

She laughed. "What are you going to do? You don't have the guts to rape me. Virgins never have enough courage to do that thing."

"You want a bet?"

"So you admit it?"

He stood up, his eyes glittering with amusement. "Don't make me come over there!"

"Go fuck your horse!"

"Okay! Fine! I am a virgin! Happy?"

She raised an eyebrow. "I thought you were…"

He cracked up. "You little bitch!"

"Ready to return me?"

"You wish."

"Well, why?"

"Because I need you at Ithilien. Now shut up and get some rest. We leave before dawn." He tossed her a bedroll.

She unfolded it and crawled inside. "What about clothes?"

"I have spares."

"Of your own?"

Faramir nodded. "They'll be better to ride in than that pretty gown. When we get to Ithilien, I can get some material for you, if you can sew. If not, I'll find something. I want you looking nice around my men. They haven't seen a woman for a very long time."

"Wouldn't you try to hide my appearance, then?"

"No. Show off your beauty. Let them enjoy your curves. I'll make sure you are not touched if you help us out. If one of my men even whistles in your direction, I'll personally kick their sorry ass."

"I am married. I swear if you lay a finger on me, you'll feel it in the morning. And when my husband comes for me, you'll feel it all over again."

"Feisty. Now sleep."

She smirked and dozed off, weary from the long ride.

***

"Ah… I never get tired of the scenery…"

Nevlothiel took a deep breath, tasting the spray of the waterfall. "It's beautiful, Faramir…"

He placed his hands on her waist and helped her off the horse. "This one yours?" said a voice from somewhere above.

She looked around, unable to locate the speaker. "Up there, behind the bush," Faramir whispered. Sure enough, two eyes peered from the foliage. "You can come out, Anborn," he called.

A tall hooded figure rose and slid down the rocks as silent as a cat. He pulled off his mask, revealing a young face, skin tanned. His hair was jet black and hanging in his dark eyes. She had never seen such a man, but found him stunning. "Anborn at your service, my lady." He took her hand and brushed his lips against them. "Welcome to Ithilien."

"Nevlothiel Greenleaf of Lorien, bride of the youngest son of Thranduil."

"Thranduil?"

"The king of Mirkwood."

He thought for a moment. "Ah yes… Forgive me."

"Anborn- Send for a spare cot and material." Faramir's voice was that of a commander.

"Yes captain." He ran off.

"Nevlothiel, I fear we do not have fine linens and silk. We dress plainly here. Will the gown you have be clean enough to wear tonight?"

She sighed slightly. "It will do."

"Good girl." He took the horse's reins and led the way up behind the waterfall. Men packed provisions, sharpened weapons, tightened bowstrings. They stopped and looked at this creature, her hair matted from the wind, her ears in points, and her face dirtied. Still, one managed to whistle. She spun around and looked the man in the eye.

"I'm spoken for," she hissed.

A few men chuckled. The man rose, his eyes fierce. "By whom, may I ask? Lord Faramir?"

A sword was unsheathed quickly. The captain pressed it to his throat. "Nevlothiel is our guest, Kildren. I suggest you treat her as such and make her comfortable." He tossed her a glance. "Apologize."

Kildren swallowed. "My- apologies, lady."

"Accepted. I can determine a gentleman when I first hear his voice, no matter the situation. Lord Faramir is a gentleman. My husband, the eighth son of King Thranduil of Mirkwood, is one. You, my good sir… Not even close." She spun around.

The chamber she was leaded to was certainly not for women. It had a sliver of a mirror, hardly any furnishings, and a sheet stretched over two boards, a sorry bed. Faramir inhaled roughly. "Well… it's not our nicest place… But, then again, this is a war. And this is a cave. And you are, may I remind you, a captive. I will send someone in with warm water for your bath. Start thinking of a proper tale."

"Thank you, by the way."

"For what?"

She waved a hand towards the door. "That man out there."

He nodded slightly. "Ah. Kildren. He's one of those men who has to go against the flow… He's come so close to discharge before, but always manages to get himself out of the mess. Good eve, my lady."

She watched him go out before sitting abruptly on the bed. Her neck felt heavy. She raised a hand to the pendant, closing her eyes. Moria… it was so long ago… Back when she was single, concerned about the threat of marriage, concerned of whom to choose. Back when Gandalf was still the gray. When Boromir was alive. When Haldir was alive. When the fellowship was alive. What had happened to her now? Her innocence, her virginity, her youth… It was gone. It wouldn't- couldn't- return… Salty tears began to roll down her cheeks.

A moment later, she felt Anborn's hands rest on her shoulders. "Hey- don't start crying. I don't understand women, but all I know is that I hate when they cry. We're not bad people here- A little different, yes, but still kind. You'll feel much better after a hot bath and some ale. I have brought the water."

She sniffled and looked up into his eyes. How could he understand? A hot bath could never take away the aches in her heart. But in the darkened pools, she saw compassion and sorrow. She concentrated on his thoughts, felt herself slipping in.

Damn it, Faramir, what have you done… Torn this woman from all she loves, forced her to come to this hellhole. It's inhumane. I know she has information about Boromir- his death grieves me as well- and can solve this mystery for us. I can't bear to look at her eyes any longer… They tell so many tales… There is death there, death of people close to her. There is love for her husband. There is betrayal… so much of it…She is confused and tired. Please be gentle, Faramir, or she'll snap.

Nevlothiel rose. "Please… Anborn… If you will excuse me, I can take my bath. Perhaps it will help."

"Yes…" he muttered. He went out slowly.

When Nevlothiel emerged clean and dressed in her royal blue gown, her hair still drying into its natural waves, all the men snapped into attention. No one said a word after the incident with Kildren, but she felt hundreds of eyes following her. Faramir grinned as a man surrendered his seat around the fire to her. "You look lovely, Nevlothiel. Any man would be mad not to want you."

"I would whip their ass before they took a step towards me," she replied blandly.

"I see your tongue still works."

"Don't make me use it against you."

The men about them grinned. "Well, we can't have that. But let's have a tale, Nevlothiel. What shall it be?"

"Do you want one of valor or of romance?"

Anborn answered immediately. "A story of love. At heart, even the toughest man can melt easily with words of such."

She tossed him a small smile. "Is this agreed upon?"

"A story of valor and romance," Faramir said firmly. "Romance can warm the heart, but valor warms the blood. On a cold night, this is needed."

The men nodded in agreement. "Then pass me that bottle," she demanded, extending her hand out for it. She took a long swig, then poured some of the brandy into her left hand. With a single word, it turned into a pale pink rose. "I shall tell you now a tale, left untold until now. A tale of magic. A tale of valor. A tale of love, unrefined." She opened her palm and let the rose roll into the fire. The flames died, then leapt up higher than before, a beautiful green flame.

On one night, long ago, a child was born and wrapped in fresh linens. The mother wept from exhaustion, the father embraced his two sons. The little girl was named and-

"What was her name?" Anborn asked.

She sighed gently. "May I go on?"

He nodded. "Does she tell later? I am sorry."

The little girl was named and raised in love. Her mother taught how to sew and cook. Her father taught her how to hunt and respect the environment. Her brothers were talented with a sword and gave her these skills. When she was quite young, she went on a walk in the woods alone. The forest called to her, comforting and green. She wandered about from nearly noon to dusk. As the darkness fell, she began to panic and sat down to cry with her frustration.

An arrow almost struck her as she wept. She gave a small cry and rose to flee. But a gentle voice made her freeze. "Are you all right?" it said, filled with concern.

"I am."
The speaker was a male, only a few years older. He stepped forth, shouldering his bow, and extended his hand. "I am Haldir. Are you an angel?"

She shook her head and wiped her eyes. "No…"

"But Father told me that they are the fairest being alive. Sometimes, they take the form of children, like us. What is your name?" Haldir asked.

"Nevlothiel. I am lost."

"Oh dear… I fear I do not yet know all of Lorien."

"Nor do I."

"And I am supposed to be on my first hunting trip alone…You can stay and keep me company, if you wish, Nevlothiel."

She smiled. "I would like that."

"Do you know how to hunt?"

"A bit."

"Well, spend the night and keep me company. We can look for your parents tomorrow morning." He began to set up camp. She started a fire and cooked a pair of young rabbits he had killed. "Now… Nevlothiel… I have but one bedroll. You may have it, if you like."

"We can share it," she said brightly. "I don't understand all the fuss about boys and girls sleeping in the same bed."

The men chuckled.

So they slept back to back. She awoke to see her eldest brother standing in the tent. "Haldir? Nevlothiel? What are you doing?" he scoffed.

"How do you know him?"

Another elf stepped in after him, another boy. "I am Rumil, his brother. I have come to take you home, Haldir. Some bad news has reached us."

"And Nevlothiel, I am very disappointed in you! Come. Mother is worried sick."

"Come see me tomorrow!" Haldir whispered.

She was pulled away. Annunostion told her about sex and the evils of men as they returned home. It frightened her, but she knew Haldir would never hurt her like that.

Nevlothiel visited Haldir the next day. His two brothers were there as well to supervise. They taught her further skills with the bow and sword. She grew close to all of them.

Nevlothiel grew older and was accepted into the ranks of her great-aunt, the lady of the woods. She continued to see Haldir, but they were not as close as they had been as children. He moved from playmate to confidante.

One time, as they walked in the woods, she felt him looking at her. "What are you doing?"

"Trying to accept that you are not an angel. How can women be so beautiful?" His voice was firm and low, but sweet.

"What do you mean?" she asked, staring down at her newly forming breasts. "I am nothing spectacular."

He scoffed. "Wait a bit."

And she did. A few years later, she found herself spending more time in front of a mirror. As she mended one of her lady's gowns, Galadriel set a hand on her shoulder. "Nevlothiel… you have grown into quite a beauty," she muttered. "My brother would be proud to see what a lovely creature his grandchild is. Have you a sweetheart?"

"Nay, my lady."

She smiled. "You will soon enough. You are free to go for the day."

As Nevlothiel climbed down the ladder, she spied Haldir. He smiled at her. "Nevlothiel, come. I wish to discuss something with you."

Through the woods, they wandered. He reached out and took her hand. She didn't seem to notice. "So… what did you want to say?"

"That I want to make love to you."

She froze. "What?"

"We are older now. Our friends are beginning to become betrothed, our siblings marrying. And Nevlothiel, you are a woman, a real beauty. I think that there is a first time for everyone and… well… you seem to be the one I want for my first time."

She swallowed. "I cannot do such a thing. I vowed to save myself for marriage. If you plan to offer your hand to me tonight, then I shall consider what you ask."

He shook his head. "I do not want to marry. Not yet. I want to marry for love."

"But wouldn't you want to save your virginity for love as well?" she asked.

"I want you."

"I am not ready."

"I'll be gentle. Please Nevlothiel…"

She stopped. "Prove to me how badly you want this."

He pulled her against him and kissed her deeply. She felt herself turn to jelly in his touch and fell to her knees. When the kiss ended, she found herself on the ground, her bare breasts revealed to the moonlight. He pulled the gown off completely and stopped.

"That is how much…" he whispered. "You are the most beautiful thing I have ever seen."

She held her breath and allowed herself to believe this true. "Haldir… I am sorry… I cannot…"

"Please? Just this once?" His hand moved to her breast.

"No…"

"We slept together once before. Oh please, Nev, I want you… I need you…" He ran his lips across her shoulder.

It would have been so easy to say yes. She swallowed and pushed his hungry mouth away. "No. Not now."

Haldir frowned and looked into her concerned green eyes. "But… I thought you wanted this as much as I do."

"I do, Haldir. But only when I am in love shall I offer myself to a man. If you want to respect our friendship, understand why I have to say no."

He stopped and thought for a while. As he did this, she slipped back into her gown. "I… I am sorry, Nevlothiel… I was, and still am, quite eager. You are very beautiful and would be mad to think that men don't notice."

"You better believe it!" Anborn laughed, nudging her. "Dear god, Nev, you were stupid! You missed out on the greatest night of your life."

"I would have taken her with her word or no. This Haldir is a great friend," Kildren commented.

Nevlothiel winced at the present tense. "Yes… Certainly…"

"Did you ever end up letting him… you know…" the dark-skinned boy asked. "Or anyone besides your husband?"

She coughed. "Yes, sadly enough. One was rape. The other was unexpected. But understand that I love my husband with all my heart."

"You speak well of Haldir. Did you love him?" Faramir inquired.

"I did, from the night after he wished to lie with me until the night I promised to marry and woke up to discover Legolas' child in my womb."

"So Legolas was your first time?"

"Yes. And I pray he will be the only man from this day forth."

Faramir smiled. "I doubt it somehow."

She glared at him. "Are you planning something, you little pervert? I doubt so, considering your state."

"And what state is that?" Anborn said, nudging him.

There was a pause.

"A sorry one. Now may I go on?" she asked.

"Get to a stopping point. The hour draws late." The captain mouthed the words thank you.

"So… where was I… Oh yes…

"You are very beautiful and would be mad to think men don't notice you."

"I don't want to be beautiful." Nevlothiel rose, then stopped. "I am sorry, Haldir. I just can't think about you like that."

He sighed and flopped onto his back, staring up to the stars. "I understand. Forgive me for lusting."

She no longer wished to leave his side; something pulled her back. She lay down as well. The moon was full, the stars shining to their full extent. It indeed was stunning. She wrapped her fingers around his.

"What are they saying, Nevlothiel?"

"Hm?"

"Can you understand the star's voices?"

She paused, listening. "They speak in whispers I can hardly hear. Mostly they smile upon you for stopping. They are grateful."

"Very well…"

She curled up against him and placed her head on his chest. He held her gently and played with her long, wavy hair. "Do you ever think you will leave this place?" she said softly.

"Lorien is my home. I will probably travel a bit… maybe to Rivendell…or Mirkwood… Just to see what the world has in store. But I love these woods. I love seeing my friends and family everyday. And…I love seeing you. We are more than friends."

Nevlothiel blushed. "Indeed. But we are not lovers."

"No…But… we could be… maybe… someday…" Haldir pressed his lips to her cheek. "If only you could understand…"

"I do, love. I do."

"Would you have said yes, if I had offered you a ring?"

"I would have considered it."

He held her tighter. "But the end result… would it be a yes or a no?"

Neither spoke for over a minute. "I think I would say yes, Haldir. I would be proud to be your wife and say my beautiful daughters and strong sons are yours."

He closed his eyes and allowed a small grin. "Tell me… What does Galadriel say about such things?"

"She wishes me to have a sweetheart. She insists I marry now, while I am… young… Sometimes, when I work, I can sense her searching the stars, through me, through time, to see what is to come."

"And?"

"I believe soon enough I will have a husband, whether it is you or another."

"Certainly, Nevlothiel. Any man would be out of his mind not to marry you. You are kind, beautiful, very maternal… Ideal."

"Hm." She sat up.

He opened his eyes. "What's wrong?"

"I just… Haldir… I am weary. I insist we turn in for the evening." She got to her feet.

"As you wish, arwenamin." He rose hesitantly. "Let me walk you back."

"I'm fine."

He embraced her warmly. "Nevlothiel. I'm sorry about tonight. I honestly am. It shan't happen again."

"I am glad." She pulled away and walked off to her talan. When she awoke in the morning, she found her heart pounding. She wanted Haldir at her side. The sweetness of his kisses burned her lips and neck. If he ever asked her anything, she would give him what he wanted without question."

She stood up and bowed her head towards Faramir. "And there is the conclusion of part one. I shall go on further tomorrow."

It was a moment before he responded. "Y-yes, Nev… Of course. Anborn?"

"Yes, captain?"

"Watch her."

"Sir." Anborn rose. The sea of men parted as Nevlothiel made her way back to her stone room. She reached it and placed her hands on the doorway, taking a deep breath. "Are you alright?" he asked. "It must have been hard to tell such a personal story."

"I'm fine. Just fine…" She turned away. "Let me fetch you a bedroll."

He nodded subtly.

She handed it to him and watched as he flopped down upon it. "Anything else you need?" she said softly.

"To know this-" He sat up again. "Why did you refuse to sleep with Haldir?"

"Because I was frightened. Terrified. He was so powerful, so needy, I just… I couldn't…"

"But how can you say that you loved him?"

She pressed a hand to her temples and sighed. "Look… I can't explain it."

"Try to. Please? For me?"

"I can't explain even to myself, let alone a child."

"I am not a child. I am young, yes, less in years than youthful Faramir. But I am no child." He paused. "In fact, I have a sweetheart back in Gondor."

"Really?"

He nodded. "Her name is Elstarion. She is sister to Lord Imrahil of Dol Amroth. She insists upon marriage, but I know the king will object-"

"She is a princess? Oh, Anborn, don't forget that in these days princes fall for commoners and princesses bear pauper's children. You are a brave soldier and loyal to Faramir. Elstarion is right. Marry her if this is what you want. If this Imrahil and his father say no, I wish to speak with them myself."

He frowned a little. "I had forgotten your husband was the prince of a nation himself."

"My Legolas is a perfect example. A simple hand servant of strong lineage is his chosen mate. He would die for me as I would for him."

"Men and elves are different. Princes, men, they have rights to marry whomever they choose. But the women? Their futures depend on tactics, not love." He looked at his hands shamefully. "The king will object. She is to marry at summer's end."

"To whom?"

He looked down. "Lord Faramir."

And Nevlothiel found herself at a loss for words. She knelt at his side and embraced him. He fell asleep in her arms. As she set his tired body down onto the pillow, she realized how fair a boy he was. His black hair, at his shoulders, was in ringlets. His skin was tan like driftwood. He must be from the coast, she thought.

She stepped inside her room and sat on the cot. For a second time, she realized how lucky she was that she had wed her true love. Eowyn and Elstarion could never have this. They were like birds in a cage, given as gifts to be admired for their presence, beauty, and song. She hugged herself and rolled onto her side, falling into a fitful sleep.

***

The girl's hair was golden as ripe wheat, her eyes like amber flames. She climbed slowly up the stairs of the tower. She reached the top, the winds blowing, blowing. The river was below her, muddy brown in the low tide. A lone gull cried. The child in her belly kicked again.

"Hush now," she told it in a gentle voice. "Mommy is here."

"When is she due?" Anborn asked anxiously.

"She?" the girl laughed. "I feel it is a he. Besides, Anborn, the appendage is tickling me."

He smiled.

"He is due any day now," she muttered.

"Then why are you up here? I insist you rest. The wind is far too strong for your fragile body."

She touched her stomach. "We always come up here. To look for a sign of you. Imrahil hates that, but Father always believes it is Faramir I pray over. Imrahil knows. He always seems to know."

"And the child?"

"They believe it is your captain's. Another perfect reason for marriage." She sighed deeply. "I just don't have the heart to tell them…"

Anborn stepped forth and embraced her. "Oh, Elstarion…" He stopped suddenly. "Let us elope."

"What!"

"I want my son or daughter to have a father, a real father. You know the rules of Faramir- If a soldier marries, he must retire from the mark. If it is the captain, you are to elect a new leader. He has a fold of twenty two thousand strong. What is one soldier going to change?"

She smiled weakly. "Father will kill me."

"If he loves you he will understand. I have a friend who wishes to speak with him."

"Who is this friend?"

"An elven woman of Lorien who married a prince of Mirkwood. Her name is Nevlothiel."

She gasped with delight. "An elf! I must meet her!"

"You shall, love." He pecked her on the cheek. "In a few weeks. I will come to see you then in life. We can marry then."

Elstarion grinned. "You don't know how much I- we- miss you. And to marry you… I accept your offer. I love you, Anborn… If you ever leave me, then I am dead. With your child in my arms, I will fling myself from these walls. Do you understand?"

"A few weeks."

"I can't wait… An elf!"

"Shh!" Anborn said suddenly. "Someone else is here."

"How?"

"Shh!"

Someone touched her shoulder. She gave a cry and snapped from her trance.

"Do you need something?" Anborn asked sternly.

"No…" she stated curiously.

He looked at her for a moment. "Can you enter people's dreams?"

She swallowed and nodded. "You were talking to Elstarion. I couldn't resist."

He sighed deeply and sat on the end of the cot. "We can communicate only that way. It helps ease the pain of war and distance. I see her as she is, usually on the tower like tonight."

"So she carries your son?"

"Don't tell a soul."

"I swear not to."

Anborn gave her a cautious look. "How can I trust you?"

"I suppose you cannot. But as a woman who wishes to help, I won't tell. Sooner or later, though, everyone will know." She curled up again. "Can you let me talk to her? Just this once? I swear I will leave you be."

He considered this before nodding stiffly. "I don't like it, but you will talk to her soon enough in person. You might as well meet her now." He walked out to his pallet and fell asleep abruptly. After a moment, she managed another trance.

"Who was it?" Elstarion asked.

"Elstarion- This is the elf, Nevlothiel. She intruded upon us."

Nevlothiel bowed. "It was by accident. I was praying to locate my husband, Legolas."

The girl curtsied. "You are forgiven."

"Anborn, you never spoke of her immense beauty. She would seem a tinker's child as opposed to a princess by your words. But I can see why she would play as her father's tool." She walked once, twice around her. "Ah… Beauty is a terrible thing to us women…"

Elstarion nodded fervently. "So many men in lust, only one in love."

"Three asked my hand in one night, but only one asked again the next. And the suitors range far and wide in rank, no? Princes to paupers, soldiers to stewards."

She smiled slightly. "And what were your three?"

"A steward, a prince, and a soldier. One mortal, two elves."

The lovers shared a confused look. "A mortal? Steward?"

"Boromir of Gondor, none other than Lord Faramir's own brother."

Anborn grew white as a ghost. "You should not have said such things. Please- Tell me he captured you wrongly, that you know of no Boromir."

"I did know him though."

"Then he will find out. And you will be shelled of information. Dear god, Nev, you almost married him!" He kicked the wall in a burst of frustration.

"Calm down!" his woman cried.

Nevlothiel reached out and touched his shoulder. "I will tell nothing, for I was not present when his brother died. And as long as you two don't tell, I am safe."

"It is the captain's orders we tell all!"

"And yet you plan to defy your captain in marrying his fiancée. Should this not be told, forewarned, as well?" Elstarion replied with sudden defiance.

"But-"

"Tell a soul and you will never see your son."

Anborn looked between the women and took several deep breaths. "Elstarion… You surprise me… But you and my son are all that matter." And suddenly, he vanished before their eyes.

"He had to leave," the girl said curiously. She turned to face the elf, but found herself alone. The baby kicked.

"Osgiliath has fallen. We must go to Minas Tirith immediately," Faramir barked. "Pack."

Nevlothiel had nothing to pack or unpack except her gown. She changed into traveling clothes and folded it neatly. It was still far from dawn.

Coming to the doorway, she saw men rushing here and there in hysterics. The ones ready stood at the mouth of the caves, ready to descend and march to Minas Tirith. She joined them. "You wish to walk amongst us?" the man next to her questioned. "If you asked, no doubt Faramir would let you ride with him."

"Why am I different?"

"Well, for one you are a hostage. For another, you are a woman. He respects you."

"Yes, Nevlothiel, come ride with me," Faramir offered, approaching on his horse. His tone offered no other choice.

She looked between the men and their captain. At last, she extended her hand to him. He pulled her up behind him, smiling with a grim satisfaction. The last of the men approached. A horn cried.

They set off.

***

"Gown, gown, who has a gown?" Faramir muttered to himself as he walked Nevlothiel briskly towards the palace. "Why couldn't I have sisters?"

"Do I have to meet your father?"

"Quit whining!"

"How about your mother? Does she have a gown?"

"She has been dead since I was an infant."

She tried to pry away. "Quit squeezing my arm! I need blood to circulate!"

He gripped tighter. "Damn it all! Couldn't Imrahil have the courtesy to arrive before us?"

"Why Imrahil?"

He tossed her a cruel glance. "Imrahil of Dol Amroth is bringing my fiancée, his sister, to Minas Tirith. I have not seen her in several months, but if I jog my memory, she is about your size."

"Why is he bringing her to Minas Tirith? To the heart of the war?"

"Do not ask such questions!"

"Tell me!"

He came to a halt. "It would sound cruel to you, oh immortal one, but I need to marry her as soon as possible. I need Dol Amroth in this war."

"Do you love her?"

"She is a beauty."

"But do you love her?"

"Of course not! Love does not matter. It is for elves and times of peace. Besides, I want her pregnant in time for the final battle. If I die, my son can carry on." He started off again.

"Faramir!" she cried, digging her feet into the ground. She tripped and he fell in a domino reaction.

"Nev!" He pushed her off of him and rose. "Look- It's all about lineage and strategy."

She shied away from him. "It is wrong- She doesn't love you. She loves Anborn."

"Anborn? Where did Anborn come in?"

"He loves her. She loves him. She carries his child, for god's sake! Find some other princess to spend your life on."

Faramir went pale. "How do you know of these things?"

"Just- Just go away!" She stomped off in frustration. An inn was nearby. She went in and sat at the bar, getting strange looks from the men about. "Get me some cider. Ale. Anything strong," she sighed to the bartender, putting her head in her hands.

"Don't get her anything. She takes alcohol horribly. Besides, not in this state," said a cheery voice.

"And how would you know?" she snapped, looking towards the voice.

"I jus' do."

She laughed roughly. "I haven't quite been myself lately, Pippin. Maybe if you had been there, you would know."

He grinned broadly.

"Oh, shut up and give me a hug, you asshole."

***

Elstarion was a beauty. No one could disagree. Men could be easily enchanted by her looks. But they quickly changed their minds when they saw her swollen belly with one hand lovingly set upon it. Faramir stood, watching her in his best robes. Before either spoke a word, he reached out and took her white hand. She smiled as he slipped off the ring, which had seemed such a burden.

"What is this?" Imrahil cried as he approached. "You promised my sister your hand! She carries your child! Will you take it back now, denying your son a father?"

"Indeed I will not deny my son a father. I merely deny her as my wife." The future steward turned and disappeared.

Nevlothiel released Anborn's hand and kissed his cheek. "Good luck."

The chilled wind blew as the soldier approached his princess. Elstarion followed him with her eyes. Imrahil straightened himself. "I have no doubt what you are going to say."

"I am sure it is correct, my lord."

"You cannot marry my sister."

"But you don't understand. I must." Anborn reached out. Humbly, the girl stepped into his arms and smiled sweetly at her sibling. "We are bound by love. The child is mine. I do not deny this, for he was conceived by her own will. You cannot keep me from her."

"We want your blessing. Not your permission," she stated firmly.

Imrahil scoffed. "You will have neither. It is not acceptable for a princess to marry a mere servant of Gondor."

"We do not ask your permission," he repeated. "We shall elope if we must."

"You will not have my blessing. I am in shock by your behavior, Elstarion." The prince turned his back on them. "Get married for all I care. I hereby banish you both from Dol Amroth on penalty of death." He walked stiffly towards the palace doors.

Anborn opened his mouth in defiance, but was silenced by his lover. "He will not change his mind on his own. Where is your elf?"

"It was a brave speech on both of your parts." Nevlothiel stepped forth and placed a hand on her shoulder. "I will speak with him tonight."

"Yes…" The human winced painfully and suddenly.

The elf stopped. "What is wrong?" She looked down at the growing wetness on Elstarion's gown. The girl's eyes were wide with fear. "Your water broke?"

"Just now…" She inhaled quickly. "We must get to the House of Healing. The baby won't wait."

Anborn picked her up and carried her briskly.

***

"You have a son!" Nevlothiel cried. "A beautiful, healthy son!"

Anborn gave a weary, relieved sigh. "And how is Elstarion?"

"Exhausted, but well. She has him. You can see them, if you want."

He was up in a heartbeat. "Twelve hours of worry all for nothing!" He went into the room quickly.

Elstarion smiled weakly at him. "We don't have a name! How silly of us!" She looked down at the newborn's red face as he screamed. "Look at him! He's so tiny and so perfect!"

"He has your nose and eyes."

"And your hair." She ran a careful finger over a moist, black curl. "Dear god… I feel as though he will break…"

"May I see him?" Anborn asked. She passed the child into his arms. "Oh my- He is gorgeous! Isn't he gorgeous, Nev?"

Her own maternal instinct pounded inside her as she held back tears. "He will be a wonderful man to know someday. Just like his father."

"He needs a name. But what can describe him? Nevlothiel? What is a strong elven name for this child?" Elstarion asked.

She twisted her hands, thinking.

***

"Arato? His name is Arato?" Pippin asked as they walked. "After that stupid bird?"

"I personally liked `that stupid bird'."

The hobbit considered this. "Arato…Let's pray the boy doesn't turn out so damn cocky. Was it hard?"

"Was what?"

"Helping bring another woman's child into the world after… you lost your own…"

Nevlothiel sighed. "God knows it was."

He patted her back as best he could. "But you survived and held strong. That's my Nev. Say- Denethor has me on watch tonight. Will you come in and see me a few times? Smuggle me some supper?"

She grinned. "You never seem to stop surprising me, Pippin."

"What did he think of you?"

"The king?"

"Yeah."

"He hasn't met me yet. I was planning on going tonight."

He nodded. "Well, give me a quick wave."

"Certainly." She left Pippin and hurried through the halls to her chamber. She bathed and put on one of Elstarion's old gown. Faramir had been right. The measurements were near perfect. Even the gown's color, thanks to the human's hair, seemed perfect. The deep forest green upon the gold trim brought out her eyes, making her hair seem like liquid gold. She spun around, admiring herself.

"It suits you," said a kind voice.

She turned to see a man, his brown hair flecked with gray, smiling. A crown was set upon his brow. His eyes were both Boromir's and Faramir's. She curtsied. "Majesty- I did not see you. Please forgive me."

"Are you this elf everyone speaks of? Who seems so dear to the men of Ithilien? Who crushed my younger son with news of betrayal?"

She nodded. "Nevlothiel Greenleaf of Lothlorien, a child in the house of Finrod."

"I know who you are, my dear. Stand still. Let me get a look at you." Denethor walked around her a few times. He was taller than her. She realized he was, in fact, not much older than her beloved Aragorn. At last, he stopped pacing. "Your necklace. May I see it?"

She reached up and touched it. "My necklace? Why, my lord?"

"It is such a fair bauble for a commoner. I find it alluring."

"It is my husband's."

"Husband? Faramir never mentioned that you were married."

Unclasping it, she held it out. "I am indeed. This was his mother's, before her murder."

He took it and observed it closely. "It is from Mirkwood, I assume. I have seen it once before, I believe… Your husband is the prince?"

She raised an eyebrow. "Yes…"

"Which of the eight? Manarda? Vinyaanto? Legolas?"

"Legolas. The youngest."

He nodded. "I see. I liked that one, the one time I saw them as a family. But personally, I believe Manarda has far more potential as king. Legolas was always too thin, too short… Still, Legolas is a beautiful little creature. Certainly you agree."

"I have met this Manarda only once."

He raised a brow. "Really?"

"We are very newly wed. I have met hardly any of his family."

"Ah. They are all very sweet things, save Thranduil and Manarda. Tough as nails." He handed the mithril pendant back. "Be careful with that. It is worth more than I am." He chuckled slightly. "It's a shame you are married. Faramir would gladly offer himself to your services- Forget Faramir, I would! Well, come along, Nevlothiel. Supper waits. Will you be my date?"

She smiled and took his arm.

"I may not be as beautiful as your prince, but I know a few gentlemen who are." They left the room and descended the stairs. Down the hall. Turn left. Left again.

Denethor went to the head chair and released her. She sat on the right side. Across from her sat Imrahil, swirling his wine. From close up, she could see he was still much a child, younger, perhaps, than Anborn. His hair was fair and his cheeks showed signs of new change, his bones beginning to show through youth. His eyes, dark brown, had seen much. Too much.

"Imrahil of Dol Amroth. Nevlothiel of Lothlorien, wife of Prince Legolas in Mirkwood," Denethor said properly.

Imrahil bowed his head quickly. "Saesa omentien lle, arwen en amin." ::pleasure meeting you, my lady::

She smiled. "Lle quena i'lambe tel' Eldalie?" ::Do you speak elvish?::

"Barely."

"Try to speak in a tongue we can all understand," the steward said gruffly.

"Certainly, my lord," she replied. "Amin n'rangwa edanea."

The prince chuckled.

"What?" Denethor demanded.

"I must speak with you later this evening in private, my lord," Nevlothiel calmly stated.

"On what terms?"

"Your nephew was born this morning. He is healthy and strong."

He frowned. "I do not wish to talk of such things."

"Your sister and her lover have never been happier."

"Later this evening, elf." His voice was holding back anger.

"You should see him. He is beautiful." She said no more and took a long drink of fruit cordial.

The three listened into other conversations in the busy hall, silent themselves.

"What are you thinking of?" Imrahil asked quietly.

"I'm missing my son and wife." The man closed his eyes. "I wish to know why he died. What cause was so great? The new recruit, who is a halfling of the Shire, claims to have known him, though how I am not sure."

Nevlothiel bit her tongue.

"You would have liked Boromir, I believe. He was always so respectful. And with women? He would never raise a hand against a lady. Women always admired his deeds." Denethor had somehow found her hand, which had once been soft and pale, and began to kiss it. His lips were rough.

She pulled it away. There were too many memories of Boromir. She sensed his presence all about her. And she thought of Moria, where he had stolen a kiss that still made her heart beat faster. The sheer need for her was clear in his eyes. And when the first arrow was fired, as she was dragged away, she could never forget how he just stopped, if only for a moment, and stared into her eyes for what seemed an eternity. She had never quite accepted his death.

"My dear, you are crying… What is wrong?" Imrahil asked.

"I… Please excuse me, my lords…"

"Not granted. What is wrong?" the steward asked.

"I cannot speak of it, but I have done something terrible which cannot be undone. I feel I shall burst if I do not leave at this instant."

A large hand came to rest on her shoulder. "Then let it all out. No one cares, dear-heart. We all have to cry sometimes."

She rose and wrapped her arms around Gandalf. The tears seemed so much easier in his embrace. "Mithrandir… Amin hiraetha, hodoer…"

"Shh… There is nothing to be sorry about, my dear. It was not your fault."

"Manke ro naa? Legolas? Amin merna ho…"

"Your lover is safe enough. He is with his companions, on… I will discuss this later… We have many things to discuss later, my dear."

Imrahil crossed his arms over his chest. "How do you know each other?"

"I have known her since she was a baby. I watched her grow into this pretty creature, fall in love with my other favorite little friend, and suffer as the shadow draws over her." Gandalf encouraged her back into the chair and knelt at her side.

"You must be old indeed."

The wizard smiled. "Still so young, still so naïve. Ah, Imrahil, do I sense jealousy? I should, for there is much. Your sister is in love with a man she shall marry when you must wed for strategy, as she should have. Gondor has no daughters. Still, do not forget…"

"Forget what?"

"Mirkwood has six available for marriage. Six beautiful elven ladies. Am I right, Denethor?"

He nodded slowly. "I assume the married sister is the eldest, Tinuviel?"

"Indeed. Which do you think suites Imrahil best?"

"Do any look like her?" the young man grinned, pointing at Nevlothiel.

"No elf or human can ever be as pretty as my Nev. I'm sure you wish Legolas would evaporate."

"What about-" Denethor never finished his thought. They were cut as a horn blew sharply, calling the men to arms.

Nevlothiel rose along with the men. "What are you doing?" Gandalf cried. "Women, no matter how strong or bold, are banned with punishment of death if they are caught on the battlefield!"

"And I'm not s'posed to go. Neither are you, Gandalf," Pippin observed, coming over to them. "And I don't wanna go."

"Damn this world of Men!" she snapped. "Damn my womanhood!"

"You. Won't. Go." The wizard narrowed his eyes.

The men had only been gone for three hours before retreat was necessary. They had lost several. But something caught Nevlothiel's eye amongst them.

***

"Faramir! Faramir!" she cried, rushing into the bedroom. Imrahil leaned against the bedpost, a hand shadowing his eyes. Denethor held his son's hand. "Dear god…" She slowed down and looked at the gray figure under the sheets.

"He was struck by an arrow of the Dunlendings. Their poison is strong." The young prince's voice was firm.

She knelt at the bedside and touched the skin. "He can pull through. He is stronger than their poison."

"Let us pray this is so."

"If only Aragorn were here," she muttered.

The steward looked at them both with his red eyes. "Get out. Both of you."

Her mouth opened, but she forced it shut. "Yes, my lord." Imrahil opened the door for her and they went out together.

"Come with me to my chamber. We shall discuss what is needed there." He walked quickly there, unlocked it, and shut the door behind them. "Dear god, damn it all," he muttered. He opened a drawer and pulled out a flask. Unscrewing the lid, he tipped it's contents back unceremoniously into his throat.

"Imrahil, drink hardly cures the situation…"

"But it helps others deal with it." He tossed it to her.

She didn't catch it and watched as the brass container fell to the floor. "I don't want any, thank you. We must discuss Elstarion now and I wish my head to be clear."

"Oh dear god, not that bitch again… I have no desire for her to marry that fellow. End of story. Besides, what would an elf who married for `love' be able to tell me?"

Nevlothiel sat down abruptly. "It is love between Legolas and me. There is also love between your sister and Master Anborn. If you had seen them this morning with little Arato, you would-"

"Arato?" He chuckled. "An elvish name?"

"Yes."

"The myths are not true, Nevlothiel, you should know that."

She paused. "What myths?"

"That my line descends Beren and Tinuviel themselves. The lost children of men and elves. This is the other nations explanations of our people's beauty. Giving my nephew an elvish name is the worst thing we could do for this rumor." Imrahil flopped onto the bed, boots and all, and stared up at the canopy. "If this Arato counts as a nephew at all, considering the banishment."

"I want you to lift the banishment."

The prince clearly was beginning to be much amused. "Oh really? And have Father kill me? You don't know how much rides on these shoulders."

"What will it take for me to convince you?"

He raised an eyebrow. "Nothing can convince me, my dear."

"Will it take money? Alliances?" She paused. "Women?"

He was silent for a moment. "You mean those sisters?"

Nevlothiel smiled. "Of course."

"But… they are elves… We could never marry, for I would die as they lived on. Besides… The boats to the havens would be gone."

"Then they can build a boat and remarry when they arrive. Think! Marry one of those beautiful girls and you have an alliance with Mirkwood, money… Perhaps you will even learn to love her. Who would care about Elstarion's child and lover if you marry for strategy?"

Imrahil sat up and stared at her. "And you would arrange all this?"

"Raise the banishment. You shall have a wife within the next six months."

He wrung his hands, smacked his head, and muttered to himself.

"Sleep on it, my lord," she said.

Something moved outside the window. They both froze. It moved again. And again. And soon, the movements seemed constant. He sprang to his feet and peered out, instantly recoiling.

"Oh…my…This is wrong! Damn it all!" He punched the wall and pulled away viciously from the window, breathing roughly. "Don't look out there, Nevlothiel. It is no sight for a man, let alone a lady."

The warning did no good. She moved and saw what the prince could not bear.

Heads.

Some flaming, some shrunken, all bloody with expressions of pain.

Hurdled over the walls at their women, friends, and children.

She felt her stomach lurch and she turned away from the horrors. Sinking into a chair, she began to weep for those who recognized someone amongst the dead. She wept for Imrahil, misguided and confused by power. She wept for Denethor, who had lost one son mysteriously and now had to watch the younger fade. She wept for Faramir, dealing with the pain and slowly withering.

***

"Nevlothiel?" A cold hand rested on her arm. "You fell asleep, love."

She squinted out. "Go away, Imrahil…"

"Imrahil? Is he here?" the voice said. "I remember him somewhat."

The chair seemed so comfortable she could hardly dream of moving. "Oh please, then, whoever you are, leave me be… I am so tired…"

"You are not willing to move on your own, I see." She felt hands slipping under her body and lift her up. "I suppose I have to move you." Slowly, they went down the hallway until she was at her own room. The door opened on it's own and a few seconds later, Nevlothiel felt the warmth of sheets and a feather mattress.

"There. Now can I sleep?" she grumbled, her lids closed already.

Icy fingers stroked her face. "Only if I can stay here and watch you rest. I always loved to do that. It was the only time I could touch you, imagine what you were thinking. But that was before you married him."

Something inside clicked. Her heart seemed to stop as she moved her hand up from the covers to his cheek. A hint of stubble. She inched along until she felt the bristles of a goatee. She moved down only a centimeter and felt lips that she had once known, long ago in the heart of the dark earth.

"Boromir?" she whispered, opening her eyes at last.

"I was given my form to visit you for one night and one night only. I have been watching you and your pain. Never in my life did I once think that you would have come so far. You are very lucky to be living."

She smiled weakly. "There is no need to tell me this."

"I was shown the future by the goddess."

"And?"

The corners of his mouth curled up. "It was only a flash. But what I saw was good. Legolas was telling three small children a tale as you nursed a fourth. You looked so content that I knew the war was over and won. And the babe in your arms was far fairer than any I had ever seen. The third of the children, a girl, looked just like you. The world seemed so happy, so loving. When the vision was over, I wept with joy."

She nodded slowly. "Four children… Very well then."

"Why am I going on about visions, though? I just want to tell you that I am doing well and will be checking in from time to time. Haldir asks that you stay away from any more battles." He rose. "And now I shall go."

"No!" she cried, sitting up, trying to ignore her lack of sleep.

"Nev, I can see how tired you are. Please, close your eyes."

"Stay with me. You said you wanted to."

He stopped. "But… No, Nev. It would hurt too much. I am not healed yet."
Tears reached her eyes. "I want you to stay. Please, Boromir, I am so lost and so afraid… It's just one night. It's all you have."

"I saw what happened with Elfhelm. You believed you could erase it. It won't go away like that."

"This is different! I don't want to make love. I want to know that someone is protecting me. I want to feel another presence at my side. You don't know how much it has hurt knowing that I abandoned you. Oh, Boromir, just stay and hold my hand. Sit by me."

The man stared at her desperate face and slowly sank back into the seat. "I suppose it can't hurt. And I was sent here to reassure you." He embraced her. "I will do that."

"Thank you…" she whispered, enjoying his warmth. Neither spoke, though after a moment, Boromir released her. The palace was filled with weeping. The noise was disturbing her. "Make the crying stop…"

He ran a hand over her cheek. "I'm afraid that I can't stop what has already passed… But if the tears were from your own eyes, how fair the tears would seem then. I've seen you in so much distress lately… How much I've wanted to kiss them away and taste their bitterness… How I've wanted to clear those beautiful eyes…"

"My eyes are not what they used to be, Boromir… They are not those in Moria that you spoke of in words of love. They have seen battles and death. They can never be innocent again."

He shook his head. "It is what is to be expected. But Nev… Are they still green?"

"Yes…"

"Are they still able to show compassion and love?"

"Yes…"

"Then they are still the same, beautiful eyes. No matter how much you change, a piece of that innocence remains. No matter how gnarled your hands become, or how dark your skin shows, or how matted your hair gets, you will always be my beautiful Nevlothiel. Now sleep, dear one."

She felt herself smile before falling into a deep sleep, in which she had good dreams for the first time since Lothlorien. When she woke the next morning, refreshed, she found he had gone. A note rested where he had been.

My dearest Nevlothiel:

As you slept, I knew that no matter what happens, I would always love you. I don't want to be healed any more. The pain is still there, and still strong, but I believe it is good for me. I need someone to love, to hold on to my memory. I will check in from time to time. Haldir will do the same, he says.

Watch over Faramir.

Love forever,

Boromir

Folding it, she rolled out of the bed. The sun shone brightly through the windows. The 19th of March. She stretched, selected an ice-blue gown, and went down the stairs. Pippin was at the front of the hall. He grinned at her. "How did you sleep, Nev?"

"Very well, thank you. Do you know where Gandalf is?"

"I rarely do. Say, Nev, have you seen Lord Faramir? Is he any better?"

She shook her head. "I doubt he is. It's strong poison in his blood. If only Aragorn were here…"

A horn rang shrilly. Both turned towards the noise. "All men to arms," Pippin muttered. "I think this is it. The final battle for Gondor. We were sorely hurt last night. With Faramir gone, what inspiration do the men have?"

Nevlothiel silently turned and walked up to her room again. She stepped out onto the balcony. "The final battle…" she whispered to herself. "The final battle…" Orcs moved beyond the walls of the city. And in the distance, she strained her eyes, was…

A red banner.

Rohan.

A small squawk brought her back to reality. She looked over at a raven. It blinked and moved it's yellow legs closer to her. Gently, she extended a finger and placed it on its head. She began to stroke it.

"Are you here to prophesize the battle? A raven?" she asked it. She took it in her hands. "So, raven, can you tell me what to do? Do I stand by and let the men kill themselves? Do I fight? Do I step off the ledge?"

The raven cocked its head and struggled out of her hands. It walked into her room casually. She followed it. It began to gain a little speed, then stopped at her door. It looked up at her and cawed. She pushed it open.

It led her down the hall with an heir of confidence, strutting with his little legs. Finally, it stopped at Imrahil's door. "You want to go in there?" she asked. It blinked and seemed to nod. She knocked on it. "Imrahil?"

There was no answer.

She pulled it open and froze.

"Nevlothiel!" he cried, lifting the razor quickly. "This isn't what it looks like!"

"Why else would you have a razor against your wrist?" she asked dully. She held out her hand. "Give it to me. Get a compress on that."

He looked down at the small cut he had started. "I'm going to die as it is… I just don't see why it must be at the sword of another. I should die like a coward, for I am a coward."

"You certainly speak like one. Get dressed. You have been called to arms." She grabbed his wrist and pressed her skirt against it. When the blood slowed, she watched him change, afraid to leave him alone. When he went off to fetch a horse and rally his men, she fell into a chair.

The raven squawked.

"Impeccable timing, raven." A sharp tap on the door came. "Imrahil is away at the moment," she called.

"Nevlothiel?" The door opened, revealing Elstarion and Arato. "I… missed him then…"

The elf nodded weakly. "Has Anborn gone too?"

"All men were called, discharged soldiers or no." She moved closer and held out her left hand. An amethyst set on silver stared forth. "But he marked me."

"It's beautiful, Elstarion!"

"Isn't it amazing that a man picked it out on his own?"

Nevlothiel took Arato from her. The babe was fast asleep, his dark curl matted to his skull. Her heart burned with maternal instinct. Elstarion took down a few of her gowns and folded them neatly. She explained that she was going to Rohan to wait for the end of the war. It was no longer safe in Gondor.

"I had considered going to the sea. Anborn has family on the coast. But I thought that if I traveled north, then I would be safer."

Arato sneezed and began to wail. "I am no mother but he seems in need of something," she observed. The princess sighed and changed the child's diaper. "Do you enjoy being a mother?" Nevlothiel asked, holding the dirty one, pausing at the doorway.

She picked up her son and cradled his little head. "I always loved children. And now I have my own. I adore him."

She stared at the two of them, pain and envy surging through her veins. She couldn't show it. A weak smile appeared on her lips. "And I am sure you will be a great mother." She went out and found a servant to take the soiled rags. When she returned, they had left.

The raven squawked yet again.

***

"Nevlothiel?"

A warm hand touched her arm. She blinked her eyes and sat up, brushing the hair from her face. "Gimli?!" she exclaimed.

The dwarf smiled. "You are needed at the House of Healing. Aragorn and Legolas are there as we speak. There is much to be told. These few hours have been dark ones."

They rushed out into the bright sunlight. Down streets, twisting and turning, dodging the rotted heads, ignoring the faces. Men embraced their women, ghostly white. Others whispered things to their neighbors, causing wails from the newly made widows. The House stood tall and they burst in.

Legolas rose from a chair, dark circles under his eyes. They stopped in front of each other for a moment, just staring at the other, hardly believing they were both alive when so many had gone. He reached out at last and slowly wrapped his arms around her. She felt his hot tears sliding down her neck. In the bed beside his empty chair, Merry breathed roughly, holding Pippin's hand.

"Oh, Nevlothiel… I love you. I just wish I could take away all the pain in the world for you. I can't. I've tried." The elf released her and turned to look at Merry. "Aragorn has gone in search of athelas. He insists it will cure them."

"Them?"

Pippin looked at her, his eyes red. "Eowyn, Merry, Diamond, and Faramir."

"Faramir came at last? I thought his father refused."

The hobbit blinked. "He no longer has a father. Denethor built himself a pyre as the city burned. He wanted to take his boy with him, but I wouldn't hear of it…"

"And what of Eowyn? Why is she here?"

"Do you want to explain?" he asked Legolas.

Her husband sighed and looked at the ceiling. "She…"

A hand fell upon her shoulder. "She rode with us in a man's guise. She hid her breasts, dirtied her face… Today, upon Pellenor Fields, she raised her sword and smote the Witchking of Angmar. It cost her a life."

"I'm sorry for your loss, Eomer."

"Diamond and Merry were there too…" Pippin whispers. "Merry hurt his arm… Diamond hurt her head."

Nevlothiel bit her lip. "Where is Di?"

Legolas took her hand and led her over to the bed. She knelt at the hobbit's side and took her cold hand. "I won't leave you, my friend… Never again…Legolas, tell me when the others wake up."

He nodded, kissed the top of her head, and drew the curtains around them.