Title: The Empty Vessel
Author: ZeDrippyVessel
Type: Het
Fandom: LOTR
Pairing: Haldir/OFC
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: graphic het sex, implied slash, excessive foul language, she-Elf slapping, violence, major angst, character death, light bondage
Beta: Eowyn, Alex
Mondo Bunny Wrangler: Alex
Disclaimer 1; I'm not Tolkien, I don't pretend to be the Great one, I didn't sell this, yada yada yada. My OFC is mine.
Feedback: Yes! Constructive please.
Cast: Haldir, Galadriel, Celeborn, Legolas, Aragorn, oh geez, pretty much all of them!
Timeline: During LOTR
Archiving: OEAM, HLA, HF, EC, OS, SH, AFF
Summary/Notes: A woman discovers her world isn't the only one falling apart.
Disclaimer 2: To JS Bach, Mozart, Elton John, Metallica, Bad Company, Howard Shore, John Bon Jovi, Bad Company, AC/DC and any other musician who's music and lyrics I have impinged on. I have written none of the lyrics and apologize if I have offended any. I also wish to apologize to various television and movies which in the course of this I might have trod on, however, I don't think Beavis will mind the plug so much. And to the others who I was very much influenced by. This is ALL your fault! Also, I have a former boyfriend that had rather unusual, but engaging habit that I adored. I have given it to Haldir. 20 guesses to what it is...

Dedication: This one is for all the beautiful women, who discovered that true beauty comes in the prime of their lives and not as skinny, young things!

***
Haldir stood at the window, dawn's light filtering gently through with the breeze. His feeling of unease had strengthened during the night. "Change comes, will you embrace it?" the voice in his mind's eye whispered. For several months, he had thought it was Lady Galadriel speaking to him, but recently he realized it was not her voice. He heard the sound of sheets rustling. He turned and looked at the beautiful elleth in his bed.

"Come back to bed, darling", she purred, allowing the sheet to fall, exposing perfect, pointed breasts. She smoothed the side next to her. "You allowed me to sleep far to much tonight."

The March Warden looked at the silver haired beauty. "I am not your darling. What will it take for you to understand that? You are nothing more than a receptacle for my lust." He turned back to the window.

The elleth's look changed to one of contempt the moment his attention lay elsewhere and her voice dripped venom. "You seek me out willingly enough. I have kept myself for only you for a millennium. And what do I have to show for it? You have made me a laughing stock among the Lady's maidens. " She rose from the bed regally, sheet draped around her tall, slender body. Her tone changed, softened, as did the mask of her face; a face of sweetness, well practiced in her mirror. Her hand went to his well-muscled arm. "Haldir, why wait? What questions could you still have? We have been partnered for so long. Why not make it...permanent. Your parents would have been ple-"

His hand gripped hers tightly and removed her fingers from his arm. "Do not tell me what would have pleased my parents. You hold yourself out for me because you consider me your best catch. I know how many others you bed with when I am not here!" Her eyes widened. "Yes!" he spoke harshly before she could defend herself. "My brothers talk. I know they have enjoyed you separately... and together. I know others have as well! " He slung her hand away from with contempt. "You would bed Lord Celeborn, if he would even look your way. You might be a laughing stock, but you have made yourself one. And I am one as well, because I continued to take you into my bed." His eyes returned to the window and he sighed. "Change is coming. Can you feel it?"

Tears filled her eyes. "Change, change. That is all you are consumed with." She dropped the sheet and began pulling on her clothes. "If I had others, it is because you forced it on me. It is difficult to..."

"I know, I know, it is difficult for you while I'm away. Once, I had convinced myself you missed me." He reached out and twirled a lock of her silver hair around his fingers. And yanked her to him by the hair of her head. "But it did not take long for me to realize what a serpent you are." He pushed her away, again. And took a deep breath. "I have come to the conclusion that by continuing to entertain you physically, you are convinced we have a future. That is not the case." He took in her look of shock.

"Surely, my darling, you do not mean to cast me out, make me look a fool..."

"I said I am not your darling!" The voice was powerful, booming. "Only you can make yourself look the fool. You and I have no future. We will not be. I will no longer be your plaything."

She stood tall and tried a different tactic as quickly as she would change shoes. "Alright, we are not meant to be, we can still be friends and lovers..." she paused to give him time to ponder that offer.

His gaze returned to the dawn's light. "You always did sell yourself cheaply. That is the one thing I liked about you. No wooing of the female heart."

Her breath rushed out of her in one whoosh. "Wooing? Is that what this is about? Wooing?" Her laughter was curt and harsh. "You could not woo an old woman who begged for any Elf's attention! You are Haldir the Arrogant, Haldir the Brooder, Haldir the-"

His hand went up, his back still to her. "Stop. Your flattery will get you nowhere." He looked at her over his shoulder. "And close your mouth. You look ridiculous." Her jaw, dropped open in astonishment, quickly snapped shut. She quickly gained composure and slid towards the door.


"One more thing." She stopped, but did not look at him. "Remove all that is yours from my talan. I do not wish any of the awkward ‘I forgot this and that.' Do it while I am on patrol. Have it done before I return. I wish no lingering of your essence, no reminder of you." He looked at her from the corner of his eye. "Do I make myself perfectly clear, darling?" His stress on the word was sarcasm at his best.

She stood as tall as she could - almost as tall as he and spat between clenched teeth...

"Perfectly"

He waited until she had left the talan and then rested his head against the wood at the side of the window. The voice started again. His whispered plea was drug out of him as a painful grating.

"Please, please, my lady. Cease your weeping."

***

Chapter 1 - Demons in the Dark or Yuk it up!

Eyes snap open wide, jolted out of a troubled revere. The warrior awoke, startled being a better word, as true sleep never comes to this wretched smelly place, to voices coming into the hall. Voices speaking a language that was understandable.

"No! No!" A deep, voice roared into the chamber. The sound of several pairs of boots were heard running. The warrior did everything in his power to attach himself to the back of the well, where the skeleton perched, in attempt to make himself as small as possible.

I understand them, he thought to himself. They cannot be like the night creatures that sound like wild pigs.

"‘It is time. You must show yourself"

The warrior shook his head. What if they were aligned with the creatures? What if they didn't want company? What if this place was supposed to be secret? Sacred even? What if the warrior was trespassing? Too many what ifs. He listened carefully. Another voice, an older voice and the sound of dust falling.

"The drums... we can not get out, they are coming."

Aaaaah. An old man was reading from the book that the warrior had not been able to make heads or tails of. Intelligence. That was always a good sign.

"‘It is time. You must show yourself!"

The voice, always that insistent voice. Why does it not cease? The warrior put his hands to his ears in an attempt to block it out. and jumped at the loud sudden bang that went on.

And on and on...
.
"Fool of a Took!" The old man again. There was a sound of a book slamming shut..

The warrior forced his breathing to still. No gasping, no gasping you idiot!

"It is time. Stand up. Prove yourself! Become the vessel!"

Drums in the background, the voice was becoming more and more forceful. And then...The nightmare creatures. The warrior heard them, had heard them for days, scuttling like cockroaches, and hidding from them, slowly moved forward from room to room in this forsaken cave, never finding a way out. He heard swords being unleashed, heard a voice call out "They have a cave troll." It was a droll voice, full of sarcastic humor.

"Now. Stand now!" Well, what the hell. Today was just as good as any to die. Deep down, the warrior wanted to die, but dying with a group, fighting for what... well, whatever, was much more desirable than dying alone. The warrior slowly stood up, straightened the dented helmet he had found and turned to face the doorway.

On the other side of the well were four children, curly haired and barefoot. Large bare feet. In front of them, what seemed to be an elderly gentleman in grey robes. Ah, the man who read the book. Three men stood in front, two of them in heavy padded coats and arms and dark, while the third was in leggings and tunic, slender with long blonde hair and...pointed ears.

Pointed ears? I remember children's stories that Nana read to me about elves, fairies, and brownies, but they were diminutive...

A ninth being, short, stocky, in heavy armor and an impressive beard stood on the tomb, battle-axe in hand. His voice was guttural and low; growling like a bear. None had noticed the warrior that stood behind them. A Battle Dwarf... a noble group to die with.

The door had been blocked with several long battle-axes, but the nightmare creatures quickly hacked through it. The blond quickly began to shoot arrows through holes in the door and squeals of pain could be heard. The warrior had never seen anyone move as quickly as the Elf. The doors broke down and swarms of the creatures streamed through. Yelling escalated as the others drew swords and rushed into the fray.

The warrior climbed and straddled the well that the skeleton had just taken its final trip down and balanced on his toes. Eyes narrowed at the chaotic scene unfolding in front of him and his hands went to his hips. There, holstered in black leather, were two black knives. He withdrew them, spun them around his fingers and gripped the handles.

A large creature had burst through the doors, taking out what was left of the door and much of the stone surrounding it. It held a large mallet and immediately made a beeline for one of the children. More of the other creatures streamed through the doorway. The warrior eyeballed one and threw both knives in tandem with each other. They hit, connected, buried to the hilt in the neck of the foremost creature. As they entered, in his mind's eye, he could hear a metal click very clearly, as the sides of the knives opened, widening the knife from one inch wide, to five in a three fork prong, nearly decapitating the creature. As it keeled over, the warrior opened his hands, jerked them back. The knives reversed their path and flew back into the hands of the warrior. They retracted and twirled back around his fingers. The Elf was the first to notice the black clad warrior and saw the knives leave the hands of the warrior a second time, strike a creature, and then withdraw, and again a third time. The warrior was as fast with his knives as he was with his bow. At least he is fighting on our side. He turned his attention from the warrior and continued to pelt the troll with arrows.

The warrior continued to bring down creature after creature, clearing openings for the four children, taking out some that were approaching the others from behind. One by one, the creatures were killed, until all that was left was the troll. It didn't go down easy. It appeared to have killed one of the children before it was finally killed by an arrow from the Elf. The others rushed to the child, one of them calling "Frodo, nooooo." The warrior could feel the grief emanating from the group, as he sheathed his knives again and shouldered his backpack. He walked quietly up behind the Elf. He only came to the chest of the tall blonde and realized he was not much taller than the Dwarf.

"What sort of Wizard are you?" the Elf asked him.

The warrior choked. "I'm no Wizard."

The Elf and one of the men looked at him closely.

"You are no Elf either and yet you have knives that answer your command 50 to 60 lengths off. " The man smacked the warrior's dented helmet. "Nor are you a Dwarf !" He grabbed the warrior's chin and looked closely. "They are born with beards!"

The warrior jerked away from the man and peered around the Elf. The child - Frodo - appeared to be just shaken up and was showing his shirt of chain mail. Mithril, it's called mithril. The warrior looked closer. He wasn't a child. Frodo looked young, as in his late teens or early 20's, but he was no child. He looked at the others and realized none of them were children.

More war cries came from the hall. "I supposed it was too much to hope we had killed them all," the warrior muttered to himself.

The Elf looked closely at the warrior, noting his youth and taking in the black padded leggings and tunic, dusty with wear, the studded leather gauntlets and grips, the black holster with the knives slung low and easy to reach. A sword was strapped across the youth's back and slung across a shoulder, he appeared to have a bed roll, bulging with Melkor knows what. "You should not go into battle without someone knowing your name." There was dirt across the warrior's face, masking much of his features. His body odor was foul.

"Bron...Braun." the warrior stuttered, obviously attempting to lower his voice. The Elf looked at the man. " My name is Braun." He looked up at the Elf. "And yours? I would not fight alone."

The Elf smiled and it almost melted the heart of the warrior, in its beauty. "I am Legolas. Thank you for seeing to our backs." His right hand went to his heart and he dipped his head. The man, now behind him, clapped him on the shoulder. "I am Boromir and we need to get out of here! I for one do not wish to die today in this dark place."

The group began to run through the hall and into a large entryway. The warrior could see in swift passing the beautiful architecture as he ran by and was pained that he could not stop to admire the exquisite craftsmanship of the arches. He heard the scurrying of millions of crawling bugs and realized that he was hearing thousands of the creatures, coming from all sides, up from the cracks in the floor, and down the sides of the arches. They scurried like rats and surrounded the small group, tighter and tighter, until there was no way out.

Yes, today was as good as any to die.


But it was not meant to be. For out of the deep, a raspy roar and thud shook the hall. The creatures ran in fear and the warrior could have sworn the dwarf acted like he had everything to do with it. The man - Boromir - approached the old man.

"What new devilry is this?"

The old man muttered several things under his breath that only those close could hear. The warrior began to look for ways out of the hall. All paths seemed to lead deeper into the dark. One of them yelled and another took off. All followed. They ran through another doorway, Boromir going first. Braun went through in time to see him teetering over and edge and the elf, Legolas, pull him back on top of himself.

The old man pointed to his left and Braun could see a natural rock bridge leading to what looked like possibly outside light. The group took off down a steep stair, the Elf jumping effortlessly from level to level. Braun could see a section of the stair missing - about ten feet. It's jumpable, he thought to himself. His breath was short and his chest felt tight. They reached the gap and the band could feel the footsteps of the monster above, rocks falling with every footfall.

The Elf went first, leaping gracefully from one side to the other. Humph!, Braun thought to himself. In my next life, I want to be an Elf! The old man went next, and gestured to Braun to leap. Braun jumped, grateful for the firm grip of the old man. As he moved out of the way, he heard the whistle of arrows. Before he could think, the Elf had grabbed his bow and had shot several of the creatures. Boromir leaped with two of the not-children, Halflings, in his arms. Braun saw rubble fall from the other side of the gap, causing it to widen. Arrows were raining from points all over. He grabbed Legolas' arm.

"Give me your bow." The Elf looked at him, dumbfounded. The man threw another Halfling and Boromir caught him. Braun motioned to the other side. "You catch them, I will shoot. My knives will not reach! I promise not to hurt it! " Braun had raised his voice to be heard over the din. The Elf handed him his bow and a handful of arrows. Braun, began to shoot, not as fast as the Elf, but decently enough, grateful to see a body drop with every shot. He heard the Dwarf yell "Not the beard!" and turned in time to see Legolas holding on to him by just that and to see a large boulder fall breaking away more of the stair, making the gap wider. Another boulder cut off the man and Frodo from retreat, leaving them stranded in the middle of the cavern. It did not look good.

"Today is not their day to die...Braun," the voice mocked in the warrior's head. As Braun watched, the freestanding podium of rock swayed forward and crashed into where the group was standing. Legolas and the old man grabbed the two and the group took off running. Braun was exhausted and breathing heavily. His side hurt and his chest felt bound. He slowed and waited for Legolas and handed the bow back before taking off running again, following the two men.

Coming around the corner, he could see the Bridge. The group never missed a beat rounding the curve, taking off one behind the other over the narrow walk way. Braun reached the other side and was pointed around the corner to a stairway that showed daylight at the top. He turned to look at his newfound comrades.

One by one, they scurried across the causeway. Boromir and the other man were across, then himself, three of the halflings, and the dwarf, Frodo, followed by Legolas. The old man came halfway across and stopped. He turned to face the Demon following them down.

Braun had seen all the monsters he cared to see in his short remembrance of life so far and had headed straight to the opening of light. He began to motion the halflings up the stairs. One by one, they looked at him as if he were a ghost, just now realizing he was there. Legolas ran up next to him, motioning him to go, but he was rooted. Legolas turned to look at what had captured his attention.

The old man had lit up the darkness with his staff. One minute he was there, the next, he and the Demon were gone, falling over the side. Legolas shoved Braun up the stairs. "Go! Go!" Screaming ensued, Boromir passed Braun, carrying a struggling Frodo. Again, he heard the whistling of arrows, as Aragon came around the corner ducking flying missiles. Braun took off running, not stopping until he was well away from the cave entrance. He sat on a rock, looking at the devastated party. Apparently, the old man was beloved and cherished.

Just like Duncan. Just like Ramsey.

Braun's head shot up. Unwelcome memories swirled in the back of his head and he did not want to consider them right now. They were not yet safe. The elf and the man began to rouse the halflings from their grief and push them forward. Boromir argued over the seeming lack of caring the man had for the group.

"By nightfall, this area will be fair teeming with orcs. We must get to the Forest of Lothlórien." Orcs. Those creatures have names? A person learns something new everyday. Braun looked to Legolas, hoping to walk with him and ask him questions, but Legolas looked devastated from the old man's death. Almost as if he didn't know or had ever seen death.

"You didn't handle it any better...Braun." While the voice talked, it seemed to be particularly amused when saying his name. Well, it was his name. For now. He trudged ahead, following the group.

The other man walked up to him. "I am Aragorn and Legolas tells me you covered our backs in there." Braun nodded yes. "You are...Braun." He nodded again. He motioned for him to follow and he set off at a quick pace.

"How long have you been in the Mines?"

"I don't know."

Aragorn looked at him from the side. "You don't know? What do you mean, you don't know?

Braun didn't look up; he kept trudging along. "It means I don't know." His stomach began to churn.

"Where are you from?"

A moment of silence. "I don't know."

The Dwarf spoke up. "Well! You're a veritable fount of information, young warrior! What do you know?"

Braun was quiet. He felt tears well up and he was NOT about to lose it in front of these Men, Halflings, this Dwarf or the beautiful Elf. He swallowed hard, tried to calm his stomach. "Not much of anything, in all honesty!" he gritted through his teeth. He stopped and turned and coldly stared the Dwarf down. "I don't know who I am, where I came from, where I've been, who I've been with. I don't know where I got these knives, or why they work the way they do and I don't know where I got these clothes. I don't know when I ate a real meal last. The furthest back I can remember is waking up in that cold, dead, dark place you call a mine and I have no idea how long I was there!" His stomach was doing somersaults

"Stand firm. Become the empty vessel. The water comes to fill you. Stand firm."

"And!..." he raised his voice and leaned towards the Dwarf, "I have this voice in my head that won't shut up and won't leave me alone!" He exhaled and leaned back. "My stomach and side pains me greatly and I'm tired." He stared off at the forest, not seeing the Dwarf take his hands off the battle axe. "And I want to die. I don't know why, but I want to die."

Legolas put his hand on Braun's shoulder. "Do not mind Gimli." He smiled at the Dwarf. "He's...well...a Dwarf. " Legolas looked at Gimli, daring him silently to say another word. "Here, look, you have not met the Hobbits. This is Merry, Pippin, Sam, and Frodo." He pointed to the Halflings...the Hobbits. "We are on a journey. I, for one don't mind if you join us a little ways. I always feel comfortable with another armed man at my back." He looked into the sky. "Aragorn, the sun is moving swiftly and there is restlessness in the mines. We need to move quickly." He set off ahead. Aragorn looked closely at the youth. His face showed no signs of a beard, not even the first scratchings of manhood. Yet, he was tall enough to be one. His voice wasn't right either. There was something about Master Braun and he was going to find out what it was. "Well, until you remember anything, you may journey with us. You may leave our party at anytime and not feel guilty. I join Legolas, in thanking you for your weapon skills." He set off walking next to Braun. "Are you sure you aren't a wizard?"

Braun took a deep breath and exhaled. "Honest, Master Aragorn, I have no idea what I am or even who I am. I just know my name is...Braun...," he had difficulty saying it, " and that I awoke days to weeks ago in that God-forsaken hole. What I wouldn't give for a peaceful night's sleep." The others nodded with him.

They walked mostly in silence the rest of the day, sometimes, jogged. Gimli, the Dwarf spoke to the Hobbits quite a bit, but for the most part, they left him alone with his thoughts. Braun spent the time ignoring his thoughts, squashing them, and trying desperately to quell his gut. Close to sundown, they entered the forest. The breeze was cool and sweet and Braun immediately noticed that even though Legolas seemed on one level to be relieved from being out of the open field, nevertheless, on another level to be more on guard. Braun supposed Orcs had more hiding places in the woods and wondered if that was the case, why they bothered coming into it. Gimli was telling the Hobbits some fanciful story about an Elf Witch. He watched Legolas' eyes roll in exasperation.

"Don't worry, I have the eyes of a hawk and the ears of a fox..." and almost impaled himself on two notched arrows.

Braun himself found him facing three archers. He looked closely in the dimming light and discovered they were Elves. Tall, angelic, and blonde, like Legolas. And then heard the coldest voice he had ever heard.

"The Dwarf breathes so loud, we could have shot him in the dark!" Braun looked up into the murky blue depths of the eyes that matched the frigid voice.

He was exquisite. Like the others, he was tall and had the most striking head of hair Braun had ever seen on a man...male. He had a long, proud nose; his mouth was set in a grim thin line. His eyebrows were high and almost delicately arched. But unlike them, he was filled out, muscular. His arms and shoulders were barely restrained by his tunics. This one radiated sheer power! "You are the vessel. He is the water. Let him fill you..." Braun looked at the Elf with the bow nearest his nose and discovered that he was looking at him in amusement. He blushed and jerked his head down. "He thinks I'm one of those...those..." His stomach jolted dangerously.

The Elf looked up with a jerk and scanned the company. "She is here, hear her weeping? She is here. Fill the vessel. Fill her..." He snorted in disgust. There was no female here. Not unless you counted two of his archers. And he did not count them.

The Elf, Legolas and Aragorn carried on a long drawn out conversation that Braun did not understand. Apparently, Gimli had insulted the Elf and the Elf was mightily rude to Frodo, thinking Frodo had something he should not have. Although most of the elves had stood down, those on the outer edge still had their arrows notched. The one who had looked at him in amusement stood in front of him and asked him a question, his fellow Elves laughing. Braun continued to look down, with his hands clenched around his stomach; its contents rolling unpleasantly. The Elf repeated his question, much to the amusement of his buddies. Braun looked up.

"Sir, please step back. I'm going to be sick." Boromir looked up from his conversation with Frodo. The Elf did not move, so Braun stepped back.

The Elf stepped forward and spoke again. Sternly. Braun looked up again. He could feel sweat pouring down his face from underneath the battered Dwarf helmet.

"Sir, I beseech you, please step back. I'm going to be sick." Braun backed up again. The Elf scowled and stepped forward. Boromir stood up and started towards him.

And the thing that Braun had fought for hours, happened. He emptied the contents of his stomach on the soft boots of the Elf.

He jumped back yelling, shaking his feet. Three other Elves came to that one's rescue. Braun, in the meantime had fallen to his knees, stomach convulsing, chest and sides tightening. He was aware of someone standing behind him; Boromir?. He- Boromir-had yanked off the pitifully abused helmet and was literally holding him up by the matted hair of his head, to keep him from falling over into his retchings. He was barely conscious. Through a haze, he could see the haughty Elf standing in front of him, just out of spewing reach.

"And what of this one? He did not start with you!" He took the edge of his bow and lifted Braun's face, thick mucused drool dribbling down his chin. "He is a beardless boy. How did you become saddled with him?"

Legolas clutched his arm. "He was lost in the mines. He does not know how long he's been there or who he is. He is lightning with those knives at his side and he protected our backs. He is almost as skilled at the bow as he is with the knives. His skill is neither of Man, nor natural in anyway. Haldir, he aided us; possibly saved our lives!"

The Elf - Haldir - looked at Legolas. And sneered. "This pitiful scrap saved your lives?" His voice dropped to a whisper. "Are you losing your touch, Prince of Mirkwood?" He smiled grimly. "Your father would be so disappointed..."

Aragorn touched Haldir's other arm. "He's a boy. Just a boy. His skill is impressive, but I feel he had his first kill today and he had many. And they were Orc kills. Those would cause a grown man to become squeamish. He didn't sick up until now. "

Haldir looked at the boy, who was on the verge of passing out, tears running down the grimy face. He looked at Aragorn. He whispered out loud, "A child, playing too dangerous an adult game." He spoke up slightly louder. " I can smell him from here!" Boromir growled. "Damn you, you can smell all of us from there. He was in that tomb for days!"

Haldir looked at the Elf scrapping his boots in the grass and one other. "There is no time to heal him here. Orophin, Rúmil, drape him over your shoulders and carry him." He turned to go. The one that Braun had vomited on began to argue.

"Look Haldir, I do not give a Warg's ass if you are my commander or my brother, but that boy just dropped his stomach all over my boots! And he stinks to the sky! You certainly cannot expect me to..."

Haldir stopped and looked at his brother. "I can expect you to and I do expect you to! You will do as I say. If the stench is too much to bear, make a stretcher for him and drag him behind you." His brother began to argue at the insensitivity and cruelty of that gesture. "I care not! We cannot leave him here. And we have no way to clean him up. He will have to go as he is!" And with that he strode off up the hill. "A healer will deal with him when we get there," he spat over his shoulder.

The party slowly made its way to the fabled city of Caras Galadhon. Rúmil and Orophin, each with an arm draped over the shoulders, literally carried Braun the entire way. The stench was so foul, Orophin spewed twice on the way, while Rumil gagged as well. Orophin's current lover, Alilian, carried the satchel Braun had had on his back.

"It is quite heavy." she confessed to him at one point, staying upwind of him. "It is like he is carrying his whole world in this roll." She turned it over at a resting point. She smiled. "Oh look, Orophin, there's a small animal tucked into the cord here." She turned it to show Orophin and Rúmil the small care-worn teddy bear tucked into the tied strings of the roll.

"What manner of animal is that?" Orophin mused leaning back to get a whiff of fresh air.

"Shades of Hwest!" Rúmil whispered as Orophin elbowed him in the ribs. "He must be younger than we thought." He looked at the boy with renewed respect. "Anyway of getting a closer look at those knives?"

"Absolutely not." Orophin exclaimed. "Every time I get near them, he starts coughing and gagging and I vomit." He looked over to his brother and nodded towards Haldir. "What has got him in a mood? He is normally testy and cantankerous, but this is worse than usual."

Alilian looked at him crossly. "Are you deaf? Did you not hear the wondrous news? He finally took a stand with Liandrien and told her she was nothing more than a bed partner!" Rúmil's eyebrows shot up. "Apparently, she was pressuring him to become her life mate and he..."

"Took offense to it?" Orophin stood up and stretched his back.

"Oh, mightily! Also, apparently, he knows out about the little party the three of you had that time he went patrolling by himself some hundred years back." She smirked at Orophin. "I knew he would find out about that."

"Aye," Rúmil laughed. "But it was so much fun!"

Alilian looked at Haldir sadly. "She is not worthy of him."

Orophin felt a brief attack of jealousy. " You are not attracted or feeling sorry for my brother, are you?" His eyes searched those of his lover. She was the only one he had refused to share and he was becoming very possessive of her.

Alilian looked at her lover. "Me? Attracted to Haldir the Arrogant? Me? Feel sorry for Haldir the Haughty? Not for the Blessed Stones would I want to take on your brother, not even for an hour! His life partner..." she paused in thought, "His life partner, if he ever chooses one, will be as strong, as arrogant and as stubborn as he is."

Rúmil stood up and leaned over Braun to pick up his arm. "And Iluvatar help their children!"

Haldir heard his brothers and Alilian laughing over the youth. He knew it was a joke at his expense and he tried to let it go. Deep down, he envied their comradeship and wished that someday, someone would laugh that way with him.

"You are troubled." Legolas looked at him with concern.

"No. Why?" Haldir responded quickly - too quickly.

"I have known you too long, my friend. I have been in trouble with you too many times. And you are troubled."

Haldir looked at his brothers again and then down at his friend. "Aye, I am burdened. Changes are coming; you bring evil into our home. So many of our kindred are yearning for the Havens." Legolas sighed. Many of their kin were going home to the Isle and knew it was a matter of time before he would feel it, too. He had hoped his friends would be able to hold out longer and perhaps help in the final battle. Haldir continued. "My parents have been dead for so long. I miss them. My life is in turmoil. I wish desperately for the fellowship my brothers have with their friends and lovers." He looked at Legolas. " I want peace in my life. I wish for my life mate. I want... children."

Legolas laughed. "You want peace and children? Haldir, my friend, you cannot have both, do you not know that? Do you not remember how we were? " Legolas slapped him on the back and turned to go.

"Legolas." Haldir spoke quietly. His friend stopped laughing, hearing the seriousness in the air of his demeanour. "I am hearing voices." He took a deep breath. "I am hearing a voice, Legolas. It is a she, but it is not My Lady. She says "she" is coming. And to embrace the change. Once she said to fill the vessel. I do not know what it means. It frightens me."

Legolas had never seen his friend this agitated, this worn down. "Have you talked to Celeborn?" he inquired.

"And tell him what? That his March Warden is hearing voices? I would be packed off to the West with my hands tied to my sides and two of the ugliest healers to be found as my nurses on the ride back." He ran his fingers through his hair and yanked on his back braid. "No, I have not talked to anyone. Just to you." He walked off over the hill.

As he disappeared from view, Legolas remembered that Braun had said that he was hearing voices too.

The group arrived at Caras Galadhon. There, they traveled up into the reception area of the Lord and Lady of the Wood. Haldir deemed Braun too sick and too smelly to be taken into his Lady's presence and he was left with his brothers at the base of a tree until it was decided what was to be done with him. The Fellowship was dealt with. Lord Celeborn was not happy and the Elves were stunned at the loss of Gandalf. They were sent to separate talans to rest and mourn the loss of the Grey Wizard. Haldir stayed behind as the group moved down the elaborate, curving stairs. Galadriel looked at Haldir and touched her husband on the sleeve. "You are distressed, Haldir." She knew of the incident before he had left and knew more than he imagined about other things. "What do you wish to discuss?"

Haldir strained for words - she always made him feel like a child again and he had weeded her garden too many times. "There is another."

"Another?" Celeborn asked. "Nine left Imladris. Gandalf fell and there are eight here. What do you mean there is another?"

Haldir bowed to Celeborn. His Lord, he could talk to easily. "There was another. They found him in the mines. Aragorn and Legolas think he is some sort of wizard, or something not natural. He is a beardless boy with weapon skills not of mere man." Haldir fell silent. For a moment, all that was heard was a single bird in the tree.

"Why have I not met this wonder-youth?" Celeborn asked quietly.

"Because he...he...my pardon, My Lady," he nodded in acknowledgment to Galadriel, before looking back to Celeborn, "My Lord, he is ill and has vomited on Orophin. We have had to carry him all the way." He wrinkled his nose. "He was in the mines for no one knows how long and quite frankly, he reeks of Orc." He bowed to his Lady. "We did not wish to offend..."

"My nose? Haldir! How could you? There is an ill child down there who has shown great bravery and you wish not to offend my nose?" Celeborn raised his eyebrows and stepped back. He had heard this tone from his wife many times before and even been on the wrong end of it a time or two. He did not envy his March Warden.

Haldir bowed his head. "My Lady, my apologies, I did not know..."

"You did not know is not an excuse! When was the last time you practiced your healing skills?"

Haldir's head jerked up. "My Lady, it was never my strong..."

"Never mind. You need brushing up! Take the child to your parent's house. It has been empty for some time. That warrior is your responsibility!"

Haldir knew not to argue with his Lady. He looked at Celeborn for some help. He had raised his hands and was shaking his head. "Do not look to me for guidance. She has made up her mind." Haldir knew that he was lost and his mind immediately went to work on how to go about this predicament. He bowed and left the couple.

"My Lady Wife, " Celeborn intoned slowly. "Do you know something you are not telling?" He glanced at his wife.

She glanced back. "That... "warrior"... isn't all he seems to be. That...beardless youth... hides many secrets, even from the true self. That child is Haldir's destiny and he needs to grasp it by the claws and quickly. There is no time."

"No time for what, my beloved?"

Galadriel grasped her husband's hand. "That child is the last vessel. Haldir is the water. They are fire and ice. They will consume each other and live in harmony of sorts." She was quiet for a moment. "Or much knowledge that has been collected and is to be collected will be lost." She looked up into the darkened sky. "It will be a long night for the Fellowship and for our Haldir."

***
Haldir was not in a good mood. He met his brothers at the base of the tree. "This "warrior" is our responsibility. We are to take him to our parent's home and care for him." His voice was clipped, to the point, and brooked no argument. It was very...Haldir.

Rúmil looked at the filthy face. "We cannot put him in our parents bed like this. He needs to be bathed, clean clothes..."

Haldir snorted. "Bathed? He needs to be scrubbed in whiteners and soaps of all kinds and left to soak for a hundred years! We will need sponges and buckets and clean drying cloths. His hair must be washed. We will bathe him, before we put him in a bed. I hope our parents left delouser..."

Alilian watched him pick up Braun's pack and stomp off to the talan, leaving his brothers with Braun. Clearly, she was not welcomed tonight. "Friends, do not let him tie you to this. I was up there. Our Lady said this was his responsibility, not yours."

Orophin looked at her. "I do not mind helping, a little. It is not this one's fault." He lifted Braun and his brother took the other side. Together they carried the unconscious youth to the home of their parents. It was dusty from non-use. The three brothers had not stayed after their parents had died, living first with Galadriel and Celeborn and then upon reaching adulthood, Haldir having his own talan and the two younger brothers were sharing one. They could hear Haldir rustling around in the kitchen, getting the coals warm in the stove and heating water. He looked at them as they brought Braun in. "Put him on the living area floor. I do not want all that filth in our parent's bed." They noticed that absorbent cloths had been piled on the floor. Haldir came into the room and squatted down.

"Well, let us get this miscreant undressed, so we can bathe him." Rumil started on Braun's gauntlets and Orophin pulled off a boot.

"Uh, Haldir?"

Haldir was busy unbuckling the sword and the knives. "What?" He was brusque, short.

"Haldir? Do the males of Man paint their toes?" He looked down at the feet-small, dainty with chipped and battered red toenails.

Rúmil shrugged. "We can ask Boromir or Aragorn. Maybe it is a ritual." Orophin was straining, trying to look at the hands of the youth. They were slender with long fingers. He than began to pull of the other boot. Haldir went to his knees and began to roll up the shirt. It was filthy beyond belief. He peeled it off and threw it towards the door. "UGH! By Morgoth's Chains , he must have slept in that for weeks, it is so rank." He looked down.

"He has been hurt, Haldir. Look." Rúmil was whispering and pointing. Braun's chest was wrapped tightly in wide bands of cloth. The strips went from his underarms to his waist. Haldir looked at his brothers. They were quiet with worry and concern. Haldir whipped his knife out of his boot. "Well let us see how bad this is." He put his arms around Braun, lifted him and propped him up against his shoulder and began to gently slice up the back of the bandages. The boy was not slight, but Haldir was very aware of his immense size in comparison. The bandages fell away one at a time. So intent on his task, he did not hear the gasps of his brothers, as they saw what he could not.

"Haldir." His brother's voice was like a frog croaking. "Haldir... Braun is...Braun is..."

Haldir pulled back and looked at his brother. Rúmil pointed to Braun's chest. Haldir looked down.

And saw two beautifully large, firm, melon shaped breasts.

***
*Hwest - Puff

Chapter 2: The Healing or the very Bad Patient

The room is dark and I have cried a bucket full of tears, yet the grief remains, nor does it diminish. The ivories beckon to me, they call my name sorrowfully, but I can not answer. The strings sing sadly, yet I can not respond. My throat contracts, yet when I attempt to pour the water from the pitcher, the vessel is empty. I set it down and begin to weep anew. I am alone, yet I feel the calming presence and her hand upon my shoulder. "Rest. Lay down your head. Change comes. It comes on graceful arrows. He is coming." I fall into grateful oblivion. And dream of his tiny voice. "Mama? Mama? Fower fo Mama. Dun-dun love Mama..."

***

Haldir almost dropped her, stunned and heard Rumil's humorous gasp.

"They are beauties! Orophin, have you ever seen such a proud set on an elleth?"

Haldir looked at Orophin. He was gauging the size with his hands.

Both hands.

For one breast.

"I have heard it said that more than a mouthful is too much." He tilted his head. "Who ever said that was a Dwarf!"

Rumil chimed in. "Oh, to smother in those!!!"

Orophin smiled. "The masses she could feed!"

Haldir clasped her to him and hissed. "You fools! Have some respect." He looked around and pointed. "Hand me that cloth!"

"Brother, you are going to need more than one to cover those!" Rumil's mirth was evident and Orophin's was close to breaking, although he attempted to sound serious. "Why cover them? Beauty such as that should not be hidden!"

Haldir glared and reached over for a large sheet. Orophin stopped him and gestured.

"Look. The tips are not rosy. They are-"

"Brown." Rumil finished for him. "They are brown." Rumil yanked the sheet off and unlaced the waist of her leggings. Faint marks showed beneath her belly, and on the tops of her hips. "This woman has borne children." He looked at Orophin. "What has happened to her children?"

Haldir took a deep breath. He rewrapped her gently and laid her down. "Well, that settles that! I can not care for her!"

"And why not?" All three brothers jumped to their feet. The Lady of the Wood stood in their parents' living area, as she had many times before in their younger years, looking very imperious. She had something white draped over her arm.

"She is a woman, My Lady." Haldir took a deep breath. "It is unseemly that I care for her, when I am so ill-equipped."

"Oh." Galadriel looked at the woman. "You have never seen a female body, Haldir? Never touched one?" She looked at him with sparkling eyes.

"Well, yes...ah...no,..." Haldir yanked on his back braid to clear his thinking. "My Lady, my healing skills are notoriously pitiful. I have other uses than this. She deserves..." he stumbled for words "...better."

"Better." Galadriel repeated. She handed him the white drape and kneeled beside the woman. She caressed her face and heard her moan. She pulled back the sheet and pressed on her ribs. The woman cried out in deep pain. Galadriel let the sheet fall.

"She has several cracked ribs. Be gentle with them. It is a battle wound. You have dealt with those. A bath would be nice." Galadriel looked at the md, ed, encrusted cap of hair on her head. "Wash her hair. Several times. Although, she will not be awake, she will be grateful for it." She stood up and looked him in the eye. "If you are in the right frame of mind, you will enjoy it. You will be surprised by her...secrets." She nodded for his brothers to leave. Haldir opened his mouth to protest, but The Lady put her finger to his lips. "She is your responsibility, Haldir. Not theirs. She is yours until I say she is not." She looked around the room and spied the table so many family meals had been taken on. "Lie her on the table. You will find it easier to bathe her there." She pulled a small bag from her sleeve. "There are soaps and scented hair cleansing vials here. She would prefer them to what you and your brothers use. You might find some things in her pack that will aid you."

Haldir's shoulders hung in exasperation. This was not where he wanted to be; it was not where he needed to be.

"I know, this is not what you think you need, Haldir. You have aches of your own to sooth and you would prefer to be out on patrol, where you are in command and you can stamp them down and happily brood in abject misery." His head jerked up, not so much shocked at her boldness, but at her ability to know his thoughts and feelings. "You will never cease to fret if you brood. I know of your decision with Liandrien and the choice you have made is the right one. Quite frankly, it was ages overdue!" She took a deep breat "When you finish bathing her, put her in that. " She gestured to the white nightgown draped across his arm. "It will be cool and comfortable for her." Her eyes become very sad. "She has endured a great hurt, greater than even you, our mighty Haldir, have ever experienced. She refuses to remember and therefore refuses to move on and embrace her destiny." And so must you, little one, she thought to herself. Haldir's eyes jerked to the woman on the floor. "Be gentle with her, Haldir. Her destiny, if she can get over her injuries and her past, is one of vast greatness." Galadriel's eyes dropped to the floor and her thoughts went inward. Nevertheless, her words were spoken out loud. "She must recover. She is the last hope. She is the last empty vessel."

"Empty vessel?" Haldir grabbed his Lady's hand. "What does that mean? Please tell me."

Galadriel looked deep into his blue eyes and folded his hands together. "That will come in time. She has much to go through, much to sort out." She sighed. "She has much to give up and much to walk away from. She also has much to gain." As do you. A clear song rose through the trees outside the talan and the Lady looked out. "Ah, the lament for Gandalf has begun." She looked back at Haldir. "Keep her in bed as long as you can. Keep her quiet. Allow her rest. Listen when she talks. Offer her comfort. Ease her pain. There are also powders in the bag. Mix them in the water or juices and give it to her to drink. It will aid her body's healing."

"Why?" Haldir asked. "We have ways to quicken her healing, our spells and healing gifts-"

"No. What she refuses to remember, lurks in her dreams, fighting to be released. Our healing spells would only cure her body and not her mind. They would work to fast for her." Or you, our proud March Warden. Galadriel smiled warmly. "My husband will be along shortly. He has brought you books to read while you keep watch at her bedside. For now, you are not to leave her alone at any cost."

He bowed low before her, barely able to hold his disappointment in check. "My Lady, you are too..." he was at a loss for words.

She kissed his brow. "Kind, Haldir. The word is kind." She glided - for the Lady of the Wood did not just walk - and left the talan as her husband was entering. He carried several large books in his hands and waited for his wife to get some way from the door.

"Kind. Not the word I would have used in this matter, Haldir. Would you?" He smiled and held out the books.

Haldir took them from him gratefully. "No, my Lord. Commanding is the word I would have used. Sometimes, I think she should have been born a male" He set the books on a ledge.

Celeborn chuckled deep. "Oh, no! Her power lies in her femininity. I would not be surprised if that Dwarf falls in love with her before this is over! I hope you enjoy the books. They are mostly battle stories and such. There is one insipid love story about how a warrior should gently romance a lady." He grimaced. " It was my wife's selection."

"Not the one you keep hidden - the one with the illustrations?"

Celeborn actually had the decency to color. He stretched his neck sideways. "That was...uhm... confiscated by my wife, quite some time ago." Haldir's eyebrow shot up. " It is still around! We have enjoyed it...thoroughly!" Celeborn smiled and could have sworn an almost smile touched Haldir's mouth. Many of the Elves of Caras Galadon had learned the arts of love from it. He looked down at the unconscious woman on the floor. "You are not going to leave her there, are you?"

"No. I am going to put her on the table, do what I can to clean her up." He squatted down. Putting one arm under her neck and the other beneath her knees, he lifted her from the floor easily. Her groan could be heard through out the talan. The sound ripped through Haldir's heart. He laid her gently on the table.

"Do you need help?" Celeborn's voice was quiet, filled with concern.

Haldir shook his head. "Your lady wife made it very clear that this one is my responsibility. And mine, she is." He positioned her so that her matted hair hung over the edge of the table.

"Liandrien is lurking about. Do not allow her any leeway. She will squirm back into your bed if she can, thinking that she can wear you down."

Haldir nodded solemnly, his eyes not leaving the woman's sheet wrapped body. "Does everyone know my business?"

"Haldir, you are not alone. You can talk to me anytime, about anything. You know that." Celeborn touched his arm.

Haldir reached and placed his hand over Celeborn's. "For that, I thank you, My Lord."

***

After Celeborn left, Haldir looked at the unconscious woman on the table. The lament for Gandalf was full blown and the beauty touched his heart. He closed everything but one window, so the sounst fst filtered through. His thoughts went back to the woman. With everything shut up, the smell from the woman and her clothes were beginning to become vile. He removed his layered upper tunics, leaving only his leggings and black waist shirt. He unhooked the finger holds and shoved up the sleeves, baring muscular arms. Covering her pelvic area with a sheet, he loosened the ties underneath and peeled off the tight leggings. He took a large pail for washing clothes and filled it with hot water and the cleaning solvents that he used on his tunics. He set the clothes and the bucket outside for the evening. Setting a pail on the floor beneath her head, and draping absorbent cloths around the floor, he began with her hair. It was matted and nasty and he would not have been surprised if he had found six legged crawling things in it. He washed and rinsed twice, amazed at the amount of filth rolling from it. It was not as long as his and dark as the caffe he drank on patrol. It appeared to be in many layers, not the one length he was used to and it had a tendency to curl around his fingers. Allowing it to drip, he began soaping her hands and arms. Her fingertips were lightly calloused and the fingernails, chipped. He worked the best he could with the sheet scrunched around her breasts and around her woman's area. As he worked on her legs, he noticed they were well muscled and firm. He pulled the sheet back and noticed the shapeliness and curve of her thighs. She was not built like the females of his kind, long and lean, and yet he was attracted to the femininity and fullness of her body. His eyes were drawn to the child bearing marks on her stomach and upper hips. Slowly, he lowered the sheet to the spot below where the first patch of hair began and gazed at that which makes a female unique. He had heard that the women of Man bore marks of bearing children and that they wore them as a badge of honor and courage; that they brought children forth into the world with much pain and blood. He had thought the marks would be ugly and aberrant to look at, but he was surprised they did not. Hers looked like pale lines, arrows pointing to what would be sweet. Her stomach was supple and rounded. He found his hands stroking her waist, feeling for its softness. His index finger found the indention of her belly.

"So! The brave knife welder is a mere woman!" The voice cut through his musings like a blade. "A mere, fat woman!" Haldir jerked the sheet to the woman's waist and turned in anger.

"I do not remember inviting you in, Liandrien." His eyes smoldered in annoyance. "I have nothing to say to you." He turned back to his patient. Her hair was still dripping dirt, but not as bad as it had at first. He moved to the head of the table and pulled up a stool. He dug a vial of sweet smelling liquid from the bag the Lady had brought and uncapped it. Pouring it generously into her hair, he muttered, "You can leave now." He delved his hands into the wet mat and began to work the liquid through the strands. "That was not a suggestion."

"You could not wait to replace me, could you?" Haldir ignored her. The liquid had bubbled up into a refreshing lather that assailed his senses. It smelled like the flowers in the Lady's garden. He was aware of Liandrien's growing fury. She walked up to the table, peering down her nose at the unconscious woman. Her rant, once started, was endless.

"Haldir! Be reasonable. What can she offer that I cannot? Look at her! She is...short!" Liandrien jerked the sheet back. "She is fat! GAH! Who would want such massive growths!" Haldir smiled a small grin, thinking of his brothers, but he kept his head down, so she could not see. The elleth could tell she was making no headway with the March Warden. "She is mortal! She will die! And you will waste in death when she does!" She grabbed his arm, her voice pleading, begging, grating. "Please listen to me!"

Haldir looked at his arm, saw where her fingers were squeezing. He looked furiously at her. "Remove your hand!"

She turned him loose, as if his arm were made of fire. "Haldir... I..."

He stood up to his full height and grabbed her by the shoulders. He lifted her off the floor as he stepped towards the doorway. "If I decided to become bound with a mortal and die painfully when she did, believe me, I would consider it more enjoyable than spending an eternity with you. You are not welcome here at my parent's talan. You are not welcome at my talan. You are not welcomed anywhere near me. You are to leave me and mine alone. And that includes this mortal woman. Do not darken my doorstep again. I do not wish to even be friendly with you."

"Cappiche?"

The voice was raspy, barely audible. Both Haldir and Liandrien looked at the woman on the table. Her hair was still foaming with floral scented soaps, but her eyes were open and she was staring at the ceiling. Haldir thrust Liandrien from him and rushed to her side. He tilted her face towards him and spoke in the Common Tongue.

"Woman,...Braun...did you speak?"

Eyes brown as the rich dirt of the Shire, had he ever been there, looked at him, unfocused, unseeing. He noticed a ring of deep hazel surrounding the depth of the brown iris. Her eyelids fluttered shut and she repeated the words. Haldir turned her loose and looked at Liandrien. She looked as confused as he.

"Kay Peach? What is Kay Peach?"

He nodded towards the doorway. "I meant it, Liandrien. I meant it the other night. And I mean it today."

"And if I refuse?" He remembered when that voice had seemed like silk to him. His eyes slid sinuously up her body.

"You will wish you had already gone into the West."

***

The woman did not speak again. It seemed she had lapsed back into unconsciousness. Haldir rinsed her hair again and gently combed the rinse water out. He sponged down parts of her body again, scrubbing fingernails with a stiff, small brush. He inspected the bruises around the cracked ribs. He got out a salve from his leather pack that he used on injuries and pains and liberally smeared the area with it. Taking the shift from a chair, he sat her up, still working very hard to keep some things covered. He worked the sleeveless soft gown over her head and shoulder and down around her thighs. He realized that if she stood, the gown would be several inches to long. It was tight across her breasts and both nipples were delightfully erect. Once covered, he pulled away the now wet sheets and cloths and after mopping water off the floor with them, tossed them into a pile. He carried her to his parent's large bed, laying her in it and covered her with a soft quilt.

For the first time he looked at her. Really looked at her.

She did not have the ageless look of the Elves. Her ears were rounded small and laid against her head. Her thick brown hair spread out like a fan, still damp, but he could see traces of deep burgundy red in the depths of its darkness. Her skin was golden, as if she had spent a great deal of time in the sun. There were crinkles around her eyes, where she apparently had laughed a lot once. She was not young. In fact, she appeared to have past the first peak of youth and although was not old, she was well into her womanhood. There were dark circles under her eyes and she wore her grief. The lips were full, generous.

"She is really very pretty." Haldir looked up to see Legolas standing there. He had removed his leather jerking and was wearing nothing but the white, high collared tunic, with beautifully embroidered sleeves, fitting for the Prince of Mirkwood "Who would have believed it under all that dirt and orc dung?" He handed Haldir a pitcher of water and the powder. "I saw this next to the counter and thought you might need it.

"Thank you, Legolas." He began to mix the powder into the pitcher. "I have never seen the like of her. It is confusing. How did she join you?"

Legolas went to the other side of the bed and sat gently on it. He took her hand and stroked it carefully. "She just appeared. One minute, we had orcs bursting through the door of the hall and the next..." his voice drifted off, "... the next, there were knives, wicked knives swooping over my head. She was standing on a well, 40 feet away. She commanded the knives back to her hands and kept flinging them back and forth. I do not know how many she took down. It was rhythmic. I have never seen any weapon return to its' master like that."

"Well, why do we not go have a closer look at these magic knives?" Haldir stood up and went into the living area where he had dropped her pack and her weapons. The knife holster lay on the floor, where he had flung it.

It was a belt made of black, tooled leather. It was beautifully worked and upon closer inspection, feminine with floral designs. The knives were on each side, with a strange metal clasp that snapped shut and it took Haldir a moment to extract one. He heard Legolas inhale sharply when he slid the knife from its home.

It was made of deep black metal; it was approximately nine inches long, and layered with two shorter blades, one above and one below. It had not been cleaned since the fight. Haldir inspected it closely, turning it from side to side. The handle was grooved, made to fit a specific hand. He could feel it throbbing, waiting to be called. It was not of his world, nor of Man's. He ran his thumb over the tip and slightly depressed the blade. The outer blades sprang open, creating a "W" shaped fork and he promptly cut himself. He dropped it to check on his injured finger and the outer blades immediately returned to their original position before it hit the floor. Legolas picked it up. He grabbed a wad of dirty linen and used it to depress the edge of the knife, forcing it to again, show it's secrets. It was razor sharp from end to end. "So that is how she did that." He laid it back down.

"Bring me the blade cleaner from my pack over there. They have not been cleaned and they will rust." Haldir extracted the knife's twin and laid it next to its brother. The two Elves quietly spent the next few moments cleaning the black metal. "These are exquisite. Where do you think she got them?"

Legolas sighed. "Who knows. She did not know anything about how long she had been there...well or she was not telling. Seeing how she was hiding her sex, she might have been not telling.'

"I do not think so." Haldir said quietly. He repeated what the Lady had told him. "She says she is running from something, that she is refusing to remember. Who knows what all that means."

"Well, if I know the Lady, then she will do what is necessary to bring her to heel." The two Elves were quiet. Haldir looked up and snapped his fingers. "Her roll, her backpack. The Lady said it would show many secrets. He got up off the floor and retrieved it, bringing it over to where Legolas sat. He flipped it over and found the teddy bear that had caused much amusement with his brothers.

Legolas smiled. "Well, hello! Does your brother still have that cat?" Haldir flashed a rare grin. "I know for a fact it lies in the bottom of his travel pack. Poor thing rarely sees the light of day, but Orophin knows he is there." He looked at it closely. "It looks well loved." His attention went back to the roll and he undid the ties and rolled it out.

It was a sleeping sack the likes he had never seen. Ingenious, actually. One side had metal teeth with a small handle that opened and shut the side. Rolled inside was a flat head rest, cleaning blocks, a vial of sweet smelling oil, a burgundy velvet dress, caringly laid as to not wrinkle, a pair of matching slippers, a long black woolen sleeveless coat, full length for her, Legolas picked up a small bag and opened it. "Paint pots. Why do women paint their faces?"

"Because we like it." There was a small book and Haldir opened it up.

It was beyond an illustration. There was the likeness of her. Captured her exquisitely, as if it was her on the paper. He could see the fire lights in her hair, it was thick, with loose curls, and shoulder length. She had short hair in the front of her face, to above her eyes. The rest lay loose around her. Her smile was wide and her teeth were white, straight and even. She emanated gaiety. On her lap, sat a small child, a boy, who looked just like her.

He looked sickly, pudgy, weak, his eyes set too wide, with a flat nose, but his smile was equally wide as hers and the two together radiated happiness. Legolas slid over to view it as well. One by one, they went through each page, filled with life like, color illustrations. She was holding a stringed instrument, he was on her lap and she was showing him how to stroke it, another with them sitting on a bench, in front of a long black box, with many black and white levers. The boy playing with a ball, the boy climbing on a chair, the boy asleep with the animal. The boy at the water's edge...in all the pictures, she and the child were jubilant. Deliriously happy. In the back, was a pressed flower, one he had never seen before. It was pink, barely pink and he could smell sweetness still emanating from it. He picked it up and pricked his thumb in the same spot on a thorn. His brother's words came back to haunt him. "What happened to her children?" Haldir lay the book down. "If this is what she is running from, why is she running? Why would she leave him, this child, whom she so obviously loves?"

Legolas looked thoughtful. "Maybe she does not want to leave, did not want to leave. Remember when my parents left me here? "

Haldir nodded. " ‘Tis a thought." He looked up as he heard the bed clothes in the other room moving. He stood up and grabbed a small cup from the counter.

Legolas had reached the bed before he. The woman was moaning softly, crying, tugging at the quilt. A sheen of perspiration beaded on her brow and face. Haldir reached the side and poured a small amount of the medicated water into the mug. He handed the mug to Legolas - "Hold this, for a moment." and with more tenderness than the Prince had ever seen from his friend, gently put one arm under the woman and lifted her up. Supporting her in one the crook of one arm, he sat next to her on the bed and reached for the water from Legolas. "Shhh. Shh. You are safe." he whispered. He tipped the cup to her mouth and managed to get a few drops on her lips.

Her tongue snacked out and lit across her lips. Haldir realized the action interested him on a sensual level and he wanted to experience it again. He became aware of her small hand on his thigh. He tipped the cup up again and she swallowed. Some of the liquid spilt from the crevice of her mouth. He handed the cup back to Legolas and use the quilt to dry her mouth. "No, not to much." He realized he was speaking in his language, not hers. He tipped her up, just a little. Her head drooped forward, her forehead resting on his shoulder. He felt her take a deep breath and a sob broke from her throat.

"Please don't leave me."

Haldir stiffened. It was her voice. The one that had haunted his dreams for weeks. He looked down at the damp head on his shoulder. "I am not going to leave you."

Another sob broke from her parched throat. "Duncan! Please take me with you. Let me die. Don't leave me."

Haldir stared at Legolas. "That does not make sense." Legolas whispered. Haldir looked horrified. He leaned her back and looked at her face.

Her eyes were open, feverish. Haldir could feel the heat of her through the nightgown, the quilt, and his waist shirt. Her eyes darted around the room. "Why do I live? What was my purpose?" She spoke in a whisper, so fast that Haldir barely caught the words. Her jaw took on an iron set. Her hand, laying so sweetly on his thigh, curled in a fist and she weakly stuck him where it had lain. "Ramsey, you bastard! It's your fault! All your fault!" Her eyes flitted around until they came to rest on Haldir. She feverishly stared him straight in the eye. And smiled. Her hand, hot and fiery, came to his face and stroked his jaw from the bottom of his ear to his chin. "An angel." she breathed. Her finger stroked the earlobe and Haldir almost lost his hold on her at the tingling sensation that jolted down his spine. She continued to stoke the silken lock of hair that had fallen forward. "Duncan, you sent me an angel. A beautiful angel." She looked into his eyes and he could see faint traces of mirth in them behind the fever. Her voice dropped to a mocking level. "My stern angel. So beautiful." She took a deep breath. "And I look like shite!" She closed her eyes and her head dropped.

Haldir gently laid her down and tucked her in. Legolas handed the cup back to him. "I speak the Common Tongue, Haldir, but what is an ‘angel' and what is looking like shite? "

Haldir placed the cup next to the pitcher. "I want to know who Ramsey is." Haldir was shocked at the fury in his voice. Legolas picked up on its tone as well. He stood up. "And Duncan. She needs rest, my friend. So do you."

Legolas turned to leave. And paused. "Haldir. You said you were hearing a voice." Haldir nodded. Legolas leaned over and grasped his hand. "So was she." Haldir did not hear him leave.

***
The room is dark and I can smell myself. I sit at the table, across from where Duncan used to sit, but see nothing but darkness. I know it has only been four days since I dropped the petals in the dirt, but it seems like forever. My throat closes, sobs cannot break free and I hiccup and choke on the mucus in my throat. I look down and see the white pills lined up, one after the other, strung like pearls. What is left for me? What was my purpose? Nothing but abject misery. I refuse to continue living like this. I feel tears running down my face, sobs finally breaking free from my voice. I sense the strings, the wood, the keys, all calling to me, demanding me to allow them to grieve. I hear the voice of Patrick Ball's harp on my player, repeating over and over. It has gone continuous since I returned from the long walk from the sad place. I pick up the first tablet and place it on my tongue.

"Noooooooooo" That voice! That damned voice! It whispers refusal to let me be. I pick up the pitcher to pour the water into the glass. Not a drop is within and I am too tired to go to the faucet. I slam it down and take the pill from my mouth and put it back in it's spot. Damned empty pitcher!

"You are the empty vessel." Damn right I'm an empty vessel. My sobs starts anew. And I'm too tired to finish what Ramsey started.

"He comes. He will fill your vessel. Wait. Be patient. Change comes. It comes on an arrow. He comes. The Guardian comes."

***
Haldir jerked awake. She sat in the bed, straight up, staring at the wall. Her breath came in gasping heaps and her hands were clinched on the edge of the quilt.

"My lady..." he started to reach for her and was startled when she yanked the quilt to her chest and jerked back.

"Who are you? Where am I?" She thought for a moment. "Where are my companiorom rom the...mine?" She immediately dropped her voice and squinted in the darkness.

Haldir stood up. Her eyes widened at the dark shadow that towered over her. She had lain fevered for three days, dreaming fitfully and crying out. Between her pleas to allow her to die, calling for Duncan, cursing Ramsey - she had some choice words for that one - and referring to Haldir as "her angel", he was exhausted. He had bathed her repeatedly and dribbled water down her in small drops. One by one, the members of the fellowship had come to see, pay their respects. Legolas had come the most and his brothers had come several times. He had carried her twice to the table to wash her hair and she no longer stank. Her fever had broken several hours ago and she had slept peacefully until now, when she had shot straight up in the bed.

"My lady..." he began again.

"Lady?" she hissed. She took one look down and realized she was wearing a gown that was not hers. "You know."

"Yes."

He heard her inhale through her teeth. "You undressed me? And saw?"

"Yes. I undressed you. Cut your bindings. Soothed your pains." His voice was neutral, matter-of-fact and to the point.

"Son of a bitch!"

He had heard that particular curse aimed at Ramsey and he did not like it aimed at him. "If you must know, I have undressed you, bathed you, washed your hair, dressed you back in a gown loaned to you by My Lady, have cleaned and sponged you for the last two days. I have washed your clothes and I have been your nursemaid. I have polished your weapons and cleaned your vomit. I have dribbled water and medicines into you and have not left your side in over three days. I have neglected my duties for you and I do not think a request for you to thank me would be to much out of place!" He lit a small light next to the bed and illuminated the room.

"You!" she hissed. One elegant eyebrow arched up as he looked down at this angry woman.

"Aye. Me." He shrugged.

"Of all the Elves in the wood I got the cold one!"

Haldir turned and sat back down in the chair where he had spent the past three days. He picked up the book sitting next to it propped two booted feet on the end of bed, next to her legs. "Pity," he mused out loud, opening the book "you were so sweet and charming while your were asleep! Called me beautiful, even." He leered at her.

She inhaled, her chest rising. "I did no such thing!" She flung herself back on the pillows and groaned aloud, grabbing her side.

Haldir dropped his and and jumped to her aid immediately. "You have cracked and bruised ribs. Don't move! Let me see-" He pulled the covers back and started to lift her nightdress.

"What the hell are you doing?" She smacked at his hands, small, stinging blows. He tried to grab them, but she was fast, smacking any part of his person she could land her hands. He thought he would never catch them. He finally captured her wrists. "Please, do not that. You will only hurt yourself." Large brown eyes glared into his blue ones, her fire burning into the depths of his ice. He spoke in his sternest and coolest voice. "You have been very ill. You have been brought to the Caras Galadon and put under the keeping of My Lady, the Lady Galadriel, Lady of the Wood. I am her servant and she has put you into my care. You have been very ill and every time..." she started thrashing and kicking. He grabbed her forcefully and clutched her to his chest. Her legs continued to kick. "...every time you thrash out, you take a chance of re-injuring yourself." He lost his temper. "Stop this before I tie you up!" His breath was heaving. She stopped moving.

"You would like that, wouldn't you?" He looked down at the top of her head in amazement. Her face was buried in his chest and her voice was muffled. Her could feel her breathing in heavy gasps. What would she know of that? True, he had entered in many kinds of sexual play as a younger elf, sampling all that was out there. He had tried it all, enjoyed as many as he could get his hands on, regardless of gender. His skills were renowned and he had been taught well. The truth was, it bored him now. He was restless and seeking some sort of stability and he was not finding it. Yet the thought of tying this spitfire up and... He shook his head to clear it and would have pulled on his braid if he had had a free hand.

"I am not here to harm you. If I turn you loose, will you promise not to strike me?" He looked down at the dark head. She nodded, affirmatively, he hoped. He turned her loose and stood back up. She looked at him with watchful, angry eyes.

"I had no idea you were a woman when I undressed you. Both of my brothers and I were shocked when we removed your..."

"What? There were three? Three of you?" She lay back on the pillows and closed her eyes. Tears welled up under long, sooty, dark eyelashes. "You've had a freaking orgy on my behalf!" She giggled mirthlessly and wiped her nose inelegantly with the back of her hand. "And I missed it! I always miss the good stuff!" Her words were sarcastic, biting. He responded in the only way he knew how.

Arrogantly.

" There was no orgy. When we discovered you were...female, we begged our Lady to give you to another healer. Despite my pleas, she put you in my protection. Totally. I, nor anyone else have ...ah...sampled your substantial wares." Oh, she didn't like that jab! He sat down, feeling strangely guilty at not being satisfied with the verbal sparring. He sighed deeply. "I apologize. We have not started well. May we begin again?"

She glared.

He inhaled and tried a different tactic.

"Your friends have been quite worried. They have come in several times to check on you, especially Legolas..."

"Legolas?" Her eyes lit up and Haldir felt a stab of jealousy rip through his gut, a feeling he hadn't felt in several hundred years. Why could she not smile at him like that? "Legolas has been here? To see me?"

"Yes. They- " he emphasized the word "-have been worried. Apparently, you showed great courage and skill and they are beholding to you."

"They are still here?" she asked. "They didn't leave me?"

"No, they are still here, but they are leaving in a few hours. In fact, I must go to see to them-" his eyes grew alarmed as she threw back the covers and swung two beautiful legs over the side.

‘They can't leave me here! I need to go..." she stood up, swayed and immediately sat back down. The room was spinning and her stomach with it. Haldir reached her and gently grabbed her shoulders.

"I am afraid you are going nowhere, little one." A new voice, came from the doorway. She looked up and saw two regal Elves, a male and female, come into the room. They were richly dressed and the lady... The Lady...glowed. Haldir backed up and bowed, hand over his heart. "I am Celeborn and this is my wife, the Lady Galadriel, Lady of the Wood. Welcome to Lothlórien and the Elven City of Caras Galadon." He gently took her hand. "And you are?"

The question hung in the air. "I am Braun..."

"Braun? What an awful name for a woman. I find this difficult to believe." This came from The Lady Galadriel. She turned to her husband. "If she keeps this act up, I might have to make her weed my garden." The woman looked at Haldir. His eyes were comically wide and he was shaking his head ‘No" to her. She had a feeling it was an odd joke among these three.

"My name is Bronwyn." She looked The Lady in the eye and stated clearly as possible "and for the record, I think I would enjoy weeding your garden."

The Lady smiled a wonderful smile and nodded "I would think that you would enjoy getting your fingers dirty and smelling the good things from the soil." She took the hand her husband held. "Maybe, when you are feeling better, you and I will sit there and enjoy it's delights." Haldir was shocked. Galadriel never invited anyone into her garden for enjoyment. He had always assumed it had been specifically planted for weed pulling punishment! She pulled the chair up close to the bed, to sit closely to Bronwyn. She did not let go of her hand. "I am Galadriel. Child, we know little about you. What do you recall? What can you tell us?"

Bronwyn looked at the three. Galadriel looked calm, serene, Celeborn, while thoughtful, looked almost jovial. The other... she realized she did not know his name, looked...

Well, he looked downright pissed.

She looked back at the lady. "I'm no child. I'm not an Elf," The Elf in the back smirked as if to say, That's no lie!.." and I'm not a Dwarf. I don't think I'm a Sorcerer. I'm 38 years old in my time and...and..." Tears welled up in her eyes as she looked onto the compassionate nature of The Lady "...and I'm not from here...and...something hurts. " She put her hand over her heart." It hurts and I want to just die so it will go away. I don't know how I know what I know, I just know that I know it." She looked at Lord Celeborn. "I'm sorry. That didn't make sense. I just know I woke up in a nightmare and when I awoke again this...this..tall, overbearing person has said he is taking care of me and I don't know who he is or where I am." She gestured to the tall Elf. "The only people I know are leaving and I wish to go with them." She pleaded with the Lady. "I feel so empty, poured out. I need to leave with them." she whispered.

"I am sorry for your distress, Bronwyn. Their quest is not yours. Where they are going, there is much danger and not all will make it to the end. You have other things to deal with and they can not help you reach your goal." She stood up and turned to Haldir.

"Has she spoken in her sleep? What has she said?" The Lady had reverted to their Elven language and Bronwyn could not understand what was being said. It vexed her. The tall Elf rapidly shot back at The Lady in the same sing-song language.

"Yes, she chatters like a magpie in her sleep. She continually called out to one man, begged him to let her die, let her come with him, not to leave her. She cursed yet another in language that would singe even Sauron's ears!. She fought and kicked and spat. And she would wake up and call me "beautiful". The tall Elf turned his gaze on her. "She is quite lovely when she is asleep." His voice deepened. "Would be that she would stay that way!"

Galadriel laughed, a tinkling sound and turned back to Bronwyn. She kissed her on the forehead. "This tall person is Haldir. He is the March Warden of the Northern Fences, the highest ranking servant in my husband's household and service and is well thought of and beloved. And yes, he is over-bearing." She patted her hand. "Keep him in his place!" She turned and beckoned to Celeborn. "Your friends will come to see you before they leave. I am afraid we will need to borrow Haldir for the leave-taking, but it will only be for a short while. You rest." The two left the talan, like water gently rolling in the brook. Bronwyn looked at Haldir.

"You know, it is considered rude to talk about people in front of them when they can't understand!"

Haldir looked down on her disdainfully. "She said how ugly your ears are. I defended you. You should be hungry. I will get you some food." He strode out of the room.

"Liar!"

***

Celeborn held the hand of his Lady Wife as they strode back to their talan.

"You enjoyed holding her hand."

He was not surprised that she had picked up on that. "Yes, I did."

"Do you wish more?"

He smiled and stopped, never turning loose of her hand. "She is not for me, not to sample, not to anything. She is fire and powerful and will take all of her intended's attention to keep up with, which I can not give. Besides, I am happy with our relationship as it is now. At this time, I have no desire to repeat past performances or fantasies with any but you." His wife smiled serenely at him. "Once she embraces her destiny and Haldir comes down from his brooding rock, they will be consumed with each other and the world will fall back into the place it should never have slipped out of." They resumed their walk. "Besides," he whispered, conspiratorially, "If I DID try anything, Haldir would kill me!" Galadriel's laugh could be heard through out the forest.


To be continued...

Chapter 3: The Bathing Pool - or - Of Language Idiosyncrasies and Breasts

***

"Liar."

Haldir was back in the room before the sound of the word vanished in the air. In his hand he held another nightgown and a robe. "I believe My Lady brought this for you."

Bronwyn's eyebrows shot up. She had been in the white nightgown for almost three days and she realized that the Lady had said to expect visitors.

That meant Legolas.

She stood up again too fast and almost collapsed. Her hand shot out to grab a steady post and discovered Haldir's arm. It was rock hard. The feel of his skin jolted her to the soles of her feet. She quickly steadied herself and muttered a not-so-convincing ‘thank you'.

"I need to freshen up. Is that allowed?" She barely reached the middle of his chest, yet rather than be intimidated, she stood ram rod straight and looked him in the eye.

"You are insolent."

She never missed a beat. "Oh. I was thinking I was a bitch. Must be a step up!"

He tilted his head to one side, seemingly in deep thought. "Nay. Just insolent." His face was void of emotion. She scowled. She tried yet again.

"Fresh-en Up. Com-pren-de?" She spoke slowly, as if to a child.

"You wish to bathe. And make yourself look nice. For... Le-go-las," he dead-panned.

She smiled wickedly. "Smart-ass Elf! You wish to play!" She poked him in the chest. "Not today." She took a deep breath and the room didn't seem to spin so much. "Where can I freshen up?"

Haldir picked her up and set her on the bed. "You are not ready for the bathing pool yet. I will bring you a pitcher of water. You may change." He quickly stepped out of the room. She stepped, slowly this time, out of the bed and spread out the lingerie.

That is what it was. Lingerie. A beautiful hand stitched satin gown and robe. How long had it been since she had indulged in something that sinful? It had to be...

Before Duncan. Before Ramsey. Years.

Her head jerked. No! It hurts. I don't want to remember...

"Mama? Mama see! Quit! Quit! Buh-fly Mama! Buh-fly! Prettee buh-fly!"

She put the heels of her hands quickly to her eyes to stop the tears. It didn't help. Haldir heard her cry out and stopped in the doorway. He watched her standing over the bed, hands moving from eyes to mouth, in attempt to stifle her sobs. He quietly walked behind her and set the pitcher down. He turned her around and folded her into his safety of his arms. Her arms unclasped and snaked around him, squeezing tightly. In the air, very lightly, he could hear a harp playing. It was not elvish music, but yet it was hauntingly beautiful and sad. He waited until she got control of herself. It seemed to take forever.

"I'm sorry. I appear to have dripped on your tunic." She was still enfolded in his arms, yet she had managed to step back a little. He smelled of clean air, wood and leaves.

"Do not think of it." He turned her loose and stepped back. He stepped over to the table and poured water from the pitcher into the bowl.

"That pitcher is full. It was empty."

"Yes."

She looked at him strangely. "You poured water from a full vessel."

"Yes. I filled..." he stopped and looked at her strangely. "...it." They could both feel the electricity in the air. "What do you know about empty vessels?"

"Nothing. Nothing at all. You fill them up, you empty them out. No big deal."

He turned back to the bowl and pitcher and picked up a washcloth. "You have many strange words. No big deal."

"No big deal. It's nothing. Don't worry about it. It's not worth getting upset over."

"Com-pren-de..."

"Comprehend. Understand."

"Kay Peach."

"Cappiche. Also, understand."

"Look like shite."

She was very quiet for a moment. "What?

He looked up, searching for words. "Look like shite. Yes. That was it."

"Look like shite." He nodded. "Look like shite. As in, I look like shite."

"Exactly"

She inhaled. "Where did you hear that?"

He turned his back to her and dipped a cloth in the water. "What does it mean?"

"It means..." she took a deep breath as he turned around with the cloth and began stroking her neck. "...it means...Stop that!" She snatched the cloth from his hand.

"Stop that?"

"No! It doesn't mean stop that. I meant for you to stop that! Stop washing me."

He shrugged elegantly. "My apologies. I suppose you could say it was habit."

She was furious. He could feel it, so much agitation in such a tiny person. She slapped the cloth down onto the table. "Look like shit." He dipped his head toward her. "You will tell me what it means."

She realized she was holding her breath. "Well. There are many ways to use the word ‘shite", but in that context, it means to look awful."

He considered that for a moment. "Ah." He headed towards the living quarters. "I would hurry. I believe I hear the Dwarf coming."

Bronwyn scurried to the other side of the bed, grabbing up the things that Galadriel left for her. She quickly changed from the white gown to the new one. It appeared to be made of sleek ivory satin and only went to the top of her thighs. Light threaded stitching of flowers in the same color thread radiated through the material. It was straight necked across her collarbone and had no sleeves. The matching robe, with three quarter length wide sleeves, was no longer in length. The color brought out the olive complexion of her skin. She walked back around the bed and picked up the wet cloth that she had jerked from Haldir's hand. She quickly ran it over her face and neck and found herself wishing for her...

Make-up bag.

The thought was disconcerting. She heard noises and quickly climbed into the oversized bed. She pulled the covers over her legs just in time.

Over the next hour, Hobbits, Men, Elves, and a Dwarf came filing in and out. Pippin and Merry made her laugh with their antics. They were most impressed with the way she had handled her stomach on Orophin's shoes. Gimli was charmingly brusk and full of good humor. Boromir was courteous, but seemed pre-occupied and saddened. She liked Sam, with his simple ways and quiet talk. Frodo...Frodo she worried for. His heart seemed heavy and he looked tired. Aragorn stood next to her bed, turned the palm of her hand over, and traced the lines.

"There was more to you than meets the eye." He looked up at her. "I could tell the moment we escaped the mines."

She smiled without delight. "Was my voice that noticeable?"

He chuckled. "Yes. Yes it was. But that wasn't all of it. I am sorry to leave you here, for we could use one who uses weapons well, but you will be well cared for and whatever destiny awaits you, you will be well served and prepared for it here. " He kissed her forehead. He lowered his voice to a whisper. "About Haldir..." She closed her eyes in exasperation. "...don't let him push you around. Stand up to him when he gets arrogant. Become that warrior who stood up to thousands of orcs and spent how many days alone in a tomb. Find your true self, your destined path."

Legolas was last. Bronwyn tried her hardest not to beam when he came into the room. He slid up on the bed and grabbed both of her hands. "Do you feel better? Your side does not pain you?"

"Nope! Almost as right as rain!" She noticed a quick flash of confusion. "No, no, " she laughed. "I feel much better. My side does not pain me as that tall one does." she nodded towards the living area. Legolas smiled in a conspiratory manner. "Do you wish to be as big a pain to him as he is to you?"

Her grin widened as she leaned close to this beautiful elf. "Yes! Tell me."

Legolas looked over his shoulder to make sure no one was in the room. "Ignore him." She sat up.

"Do what? Ignore him?"


Legolas nodded his head. "Do not flirt with him, or anyone. Be courteous and friendly to the others, but hold him at arm's length." Bronwyn was confused. Why was Legolas acting like she was trying to capture Haldir's attention? She shook her head. Their voices had grown faint, soft. They did not see Haldir come to the doorway. He could barely hear their whispers, but he also read much into their body language, the heads close together, their hands clasped like lovers.

"I wish I were going with you. You... and the others." Their foreheads touched again. "I don't wish to stay here. At least, with the Fellowship, I would have a purpose."

Legolas smiled and gently tucked a stray, curling lock of her hair behind one ear. She was enchanted by the gentle touch. "Ah, but with us, your purpose would be trite, short-lived."

She smiled, gently. "I will miss you all, terribly."

"Ah, then feel bad for me, because I drew the short stick of who would have to ride in the boat with Gimli! And I think he has fallen in love with Lady Galadriel. If this is the case, I will spend the next few weeks listening to dreadful, dwarfish warbling he calls poetry, inspired by her beauty!" They both laughed. He took her face in both hands. "You are lovely when you smile. Your mind is bright and your wisdom will be unfathomable. You have a wonderful destiny and purpose and happiness, if you would accept it and release your grief to embrace what the Valar want to give you." He kissed her sweetly on the lips. He tasted of clean snow and white wine. "Lle naa vanima - You are as beautiful in your countenance as you are in body. Do not be grief-stricken for long. You will be loved and beloved by many, if you would just accept who you were and who you will become." He continued to hold her face in his hands. Haldir, unable to take more, turned from the doorway and strode from the talan to wait outside. They never saw him, never heard him.

Her eyes welled up with spilling tears. "Legolas, who am I?" His thumbs gently rubbed the tears away. Haldir was too far away to hear his answer.

"You are Bronwyn. You are the last Empty Vessel."

***

Haldir walked with Legolas for a ways before speaking.

"That was a very touching scene, Legolas. She will dream of that kiss for months." Haldir did not know why it bothered him.

"She is frightened, Haldir. Imagine waking and being somewhere you have never been, all alone, and not knowing who you are. I would imagine it is frightening beyond belief. And yet her memory is right where she could touch it, if only she would reach out her hand for it. What happened to her must have shattered her very soul. You might want to practice that gentle touch of yours."

"Gentle!" Haldir scoffed. "I simply want to get her well and send her on her way. She can find her destiny and her memories on her own watch. The Lady will not allow me to heal her and is allowing her body and mind to heal in their own time! Had they allowed me or another healer to mend her, she and her cursed knives would be leaving with you now. However, she will instead stay here and pine until you return for her!"

Legolas took a deep breath. "Her destiny is not with us, nor is she for me, mellon. She is destined for another."

"Well, he or she should come and get her!" They walked quietly for a moment. "Legolas, I know you are sometimes able to see, as the Lady does. Have you looked to see what will be the outcome of this quest?

"No, not this one, my friend. I would not do that. As long as I hold hope, I will fight with all I have to destroy the One Ring. I realize that our people are leaving for the Gray Havens and whatever the outcome, it will not affect us, but I worry for the Men and other folk of Middle Earth. I do not wish to leave them to ruin and can not understand why we do not join with the Races as we did before." He took a deep breath. "If I thought for one second the quest was for naught, that the forests of Lothlórien and Mirkwood would be destroyed, I would die of grief. And if I am going to die, I would rather die fighting, than grieving."

Legolas did not tell him, however, that he had seen forward for Bronwyn and saw two decidedly different outcomes. One, if she embraced her past and future, and another, dreadful one if she did not.

And Haldir played a very heavy role in which way she would decide. He looked ahead and said with a straight face, "You know, in a few days, when she is up and about, you might want to take her down to the river where we used to fish. She might like it."

"I would rather bed the Dwarf!"

***

Bronwyn stood by the window, high in the trees, watching the leaving of the Fellowship. She saw how easy he was with Sam, reassuring him of his passage. Why can't he treat me that way? she wondered. She saw that Legolas had been given a new bow and he handed his old one to another elf. She watched and strained to see as they rowed down the river, away from Lothlórien, watching any hope she had of joining them, float away.

"Knife-welder."

Bronwyn turned to the owner of the sultry voice. The elleth was taller than her, slender with silver hair and ice-blue eyes. She was astoundingly beautiful, yet upon a closer inspection, her face was hard.

Like she had spent to many evenings drinking it up in the pub.

"I am Bronwyn. You are?" She let the question hang in the air.

The elleth waved her hand in the air as if to dismiss her. "You will leave Haldir alone. He is mine and you have no chance." She spoke slowly, as if she had not used the Common Tongue but in study. Her speech was sounded stilted, rehearsed.

"I had no idea I was bothering him. And I have no chance at what? I'm sorry, I did not catch your name."

"Haldir has been my lover for a thousand years. You are a toy to him and he will tire of your fat breasts quickly. I will not give him up to you."

"Well, the so-called legendary courtesy of the Elves is not apparent here!" Bronwyn muttered not so quietly. "Exactly, what am I doing to his Tall-ness to annoy you? And I still haven't caught your name."

The elleth began an oratory in Elvish that tumbled forth like a rush. Good Lord - I must learn this Elf language if I am going to survive here! But then again, do I really want to understand this bitch? Maybe she and His Altitude-ness belong together! The elleth was going on and on.

"Look, dearie," Bronwyn interrupted her in mid-something whatever. "I feel for your plight, honestly, I do. But I have no designs on your bed partner. I am deeply grieved that you have been stuck with him for a millennium or whatever years and sorry that you can't seem to do better. And as much as I would love to discuss the issue, I have this rule about not arguing with...um...beings who don't have the IQ I have!" The elleth looked confused. Bronwyn blurted, "For the love of Mike - Do you have a name?"

"Her name is Liandrien. She is not my bed partner. And she is leaving." The elleth - Liandrien - turned around quickly as Bronwyn looked beyond her shoulder. Haldir stood in the doorway. Bronwyn had never seen him look so angry. Two other elves stood behind him, looking shocked, yet on guard. Haldir turned to Liandrien. He did not raise his voice or physically attempt to intimidate the elleth in any way, but when he was finished, she slunk out of the room. But not before she shot a noxious look at Bronwyn.

"We are not through, Knife-welder!"

"Yes, you are!"

"Oh, probably not by a long-shot!" Both Haldir and Bronwyn spoke at the same time.

The talan was quiet for a long time. One of the Elves slid around Haldir and came into the room, completely immune to the painful silence. He held Legolas' old bow. With great ceremony - and a lot of words she didn't understand - he presented her with the bow, before pressing his hand to his heart. He had the look of Haldir, but he was slender and taller, believe it or not. He had a beautiful smile as well.

"This is my brother, Rumil. Legolas has been gifted with a Lothlórien bow and he wished for you to have his old one. It is a fine bow, made for the Prince of Mirkwood and he claims that with some practice, you would be almost as good as a young Elfling." The Elf said something else. "Rumil also wishes for you to know that if you would like to have lessons with the bow, he would be glad to give them to you." Haldir's voice sounded dry and uninterested. She smiled back at Rumil.

"Thank you so very much." Her voice was sincere, as was her smile, which reached to her eyes. She pressed her hand to her heart as well. "I would like to learn how to properly use and appreciate this gift, so that it will not waste from misuse or disuse."

The third Elf came in. Bronwyn knew immediately who he was. Although she was aware that he would not understand a word she said, nevertheless her apology tumbled forth in a torrent.

"I am so sorry for sicking up on your boots. It wasn't planned. I hope they weren't ruined." She bowed her head in apology.

Haldir said a mouthful of things and this Elf smiled as well. "This is also my brother, Orophin. I believe he will be willing to give you archery lessons as well." Bronwyn looked closely at the third Elf...

...and noticed his eyes were fixated on her chest. Before she could even consider the consequences, her hand snaked out and slapped him across the face. Haldir took two steps and was held back by Orophin. Words flew between the two brothers: Haldir's were stern, eyes flashing at Bronwyn; Orophin's were laughing. He rubbed his stinging cheek, said something (I must learn this Elvish language!) that made Rumil laugh, and then he bowed with her with his hand over his heart. His eyes, she was glad to see, were on hers. The brothers punched Haldir on the arm and left.

She watched as he stared out after his brothers, pulling on his back braid. He turned back around and noticed for the first time the ivory sheath she was wearing. Noticed how the color played up the tan of her skin, her legs looked incredibly long for her body. The sash of the robe made her waist look incredibly small. Her hair was thick, wild curls framing her face. Her eyebrows were raised in question.

"I am sorry if Liandrien upset you. She can be very difficult." How he made his voice bland and emotionless was beyond him.

"She did not upset me. She seems to think I am taking her place in your heart. If you wish for her to move back in, I will find somewhere else to stay. Or I can leave."

He put his hand up and shook his head. "She has no place in my heart."

"But if she is your lover, she should be..."

"She is no longer..." he took a deep breath. "She is not my lover."

Bronwyn's eyes shone in understanding. "But she was. And I take it she did not take the break-up well."

He shrugged nonchalantly. "It does not matter. It is over."

"Haldir! Do you not care for her feelings? Obviously, she loves you." Bronwyn unconsciously reached up to smooth a lock of his hair behind his ear. Haldir stepped backwards, out of her reach.

"Liandrien does not love anyone but herself. I do not wish to discuss this with you." His tone was harsh. Bronwyn jerked her hand back, stung by his aloofness, his coldness. He turned his back on her and moved towards the door. "I have duties I have neglected. Beginning tomorrow morning, you have been invited to spend time with The Lady in her garden. I have arranged for one of my archers to teach you archery skills in the afternoon. If you tire, you are to let me know. I do not wish for you to overburden yourself. I have brought some food for you. It is still warm and should fill you." He called over his shoulder. "I will back later this evening. After you have gone to sleep."

The talan was quiet. Depressingly so. She wandered into the gathering area and found dinner on the table. It smelled wonderful and before she knew what she had done, she had eaten every crumb. If I keep this up, I will be such a pig and too fat to dance, much less be able to get my arms around a harp! She giggled at the thought. It was the first real meal she remembered having in...

Before you buried Duncan.

The memory upset her and she squashed it immediately. The warm food settled in her stomach and she wandered about the talan. It consisted of several rooms and was painstakingly neat.

My cottage by the sea was always disheveled, as was my office at the university. Dusty with books, CD's, tapes, and instruments. Music and papers lay in piles everywhere, the table, the computer, the chairs, the piano. Duncan would run through the rooms to watch the sheaves fly...

She drifted back into the bedroom. Out of sheer boredom, she picked up one of the books stacked neatly beside the chair and opened it. Reading had been one of her first loves...

How did I know that? How do I know any of that?

...and the thought of sitting here alone maddened her. But the book was written in a language and style she could not decipher and she quickly gave up. Quietly, in the still of the room, music played. A harp, with oriental tones.

Andreas Vollenweider... how I loved his music.

Eventually, she crawled on the bed and slowly drifted into sleep, as the sun was setting, the music fading as she slipped into slumber.

Many hours later, she rolled over and realized dreamily, the robe was removed and she was covered under the quilt. She opened her eyes to see the tall Elf, sitting in the chair, eyes slitted and glowing eerily in the moonlight. She fell back to sleep, knowing she was safe.

***

"Mama! Mama! Come tee! Come tee! Prettee moo-sic!" Small, pudgy hands rake across the strings of the ancient lute, making raucous sounds amidst childish laughter. She stood above him, smiling. "And what is Duncan playing for Mama?" A big, wide, drooling smile looks up at her. "Bar-nee. I love you! You love meeee..."

Flower petals fall on the grave. Duncan, Duncan, please don't leave me. See the light? Go to the light. Don't leave me.

Car tires squeal and the car wraps itself around the tree. An older, hungry looking couple, in cheap, worn clothes, the man whispering, "Mrs. Powell, surely you understand our position."

Ramsey. Ramsey. You did this! You did this! It's your fault! How was I to know? How do I protect Duncan?

The ivories call. Let us grieve. The strings sing so sorrowfully. The bodhran calls for its master. Duncan, where is Duncan?

Tiny pills lined up in a row, like pearls on a string. One at a time, every 5 minutes. Damn the vessel! It's still empty! Damn the empty vessel! Damn it...

***

"Damn it! Damn the empty vess…"

Her eyes opened up and realized she was sitting up, enfolded in strong arms. She stiffened, because she recognized the smell - his smell. So different from Legolas. This one smelled of air and wood and earth. So...

Good. Admit it, he smells good.

His hold loosened. "You are better?" She refused to answer. He shrugged. Damn it! She was tired of his shrugging like nothing mattered.

"I'm fine." Her voice was curt. He removed himself from the bed and sat back in the chair. His eyes fixated on her and the thought that he sat and watched her all night made her uncomfortable. "Go away."

His shoulders jerked as if to break out in laughter, but he contained his mirth. "Joyous the day will be when I can." She was shocked by his shuttered vehemence.

"Am I that much a burden?"

He took a very deep breath and stopped himself from bellowing out angrily yes. Stopped himself from offering to take her immediately in a fast boat to catch the Fellowship and Legolas. Stopped himself from wishing her out of his hair. It was unfair, what he was doing to her. He knew it. And deep inside, he was ashamed of himself. It was not her fault that she had vomited her way into his life at such a horrible time for the Elves and Man. And the aftermath of Liandrien. It was not her fault that she had lost her way. None of this was her fault. Yet, he took it out on her. Why? Because she fought back? Because she did not cower before him? Because she was not impressed by his status? Because all the others spoke of her in awed whispers... well, except Liandrien, but she never spoke well of anyone. His own brothers were wrapped around her finger. No she-Elf would have ever slapped Orophin for being... Orophin! Much less in front of Haldir! And yet Orophin had laughed, told his brother he had deserved the stinging blow. And for both... BOTH to offer to teach her Elven skills... it was too much to consider. All this bother, over a tiny woman. He looked at her and realized she waited for his answer.

"No, tithen aras. You are not a burden. Go back to sleep. The sun will rise in a few hours and you have much to do. Shut your eyes." Against his better judgment and previous orders, he murmured a sleep spell and she quickly succumbed to dreamless sleep. He leaned back for a few more hours of revere.

And he dreamed of being curled next to her warm body, one hand cupped around her breast.

***

She awoke to a stinging slap across her behind. The quilt had been thrown back, leaving only the thin silken shift between her bottom and the cause of her pain.

His hand.

Haldir stood above her. "Get up. You are to go to my Lady today and I think to take you to the bathing pool."

She immediately forgot the way of her awakening. "A bath? I get to bathe? YESSSSS!" She jumped out of bed, unaware of how high the shift had risen on her legs. Haldir was gifted to the sight of long lovely legs joining at a nest of curls. The view was not long-lived, but he caught his breath, regardless and forced himself to look blandly into her face.

"Yes. A bath. I have arranged for time in the pool alone."

She paced back and forth in... by the waters of Koivie... who planned a bath? "I need a robe, and I need shampoo and soap. Lots of soap. Bubbly, foamy soap and... Did you say time alone?"

"Yes."

She looked horrified. "The bath is... public, communal?"

"The Elves bathe together. It is, as you say, no big deal." A very high-pitched sound escaped that sounded like a muffled moan escaped from her throat and she looked scandalized. "But it is male Elves together and female Elves together?"

"Yes. But sometimes, it is ellon and elleths together. It is enjoyable. I like to have my back scrubbed by longish nails sometimes. It gets the dirt and grime from hard work..." he stopped, realizing she had run around him, muttering,

"Oh no, oh no! I am NOT going there!" She fled into the gathering area. Haldir shook his head in bewilderment. What was wrong with bathing with one's friends? And why did the people of Man have such difficulty in understanding? He followed her into the living area and reminded her she was still in her shift.

"Well of course I'm still in my nightgown!" she flung out, arms akimbo. " I don't see my clothes anywhere and it isn't like I haven't been given anything else to wear. Jesus, Mary, and Joseph! What would you have me do?"

He handed her the robe he had painstakingly removed the night before as he covered her. "This will be fine. The Lady said she would send someone with a dress for you." He did not mention her clothes, rolled in her pack. Except for the burgundy velvet, they looked constraining and mannish and deep down, he wished to see her in the flowing gowns of his people. He forced his mind from that thought. He plucked the bag with paint pots from the top of the roll, which Legolas had removed and not tucked back in. "This was with your bag. You might want it.

She recognized the make up bag. It had been a gift from...

Ramsey. For a special trip...

She shook her head and didn't think to ask him how he had found it. Nor did she see the tattered teddy bear, tucked back into the strings of the bedroll.

***

After breaking their evening fast with warm bread with something sweet and sticky generously spread on it, they walked down winding, wispy stairways. Bronwyn had had no idea how high up she was and was enthralled by the beauty of her surroundings. Haldir watched her in admiration as she drank in the sight. She stopped at near the bottom and laid her hand on the huge trunk. "Your trees speak, you know that?" She placed both hands on the trunk. "It is beautiful how your people have incorporated nature into your buildings and coexist with it." He heard her inhale clean forest air. "My people would have chopped down every..."

...tree. They would have bulldozed and paved and totally eradicated each and every scrap of grass...

Haldir felt her pause. "What, tithen aras? What would your people had done?"

"I don't know. It was a stray thought." She reached the bottom of the stairs and took in completely the city of Caras Galadon. Even after almost 3000 years, Haldir never took the beauty of it for granted. "This, " she whispered, "is a dream. That's all it is. I have died and gone to Hell and this is my dream to comfort me or taunt me."

Haldir wondered if angels tormented lost souls in her Hell. Or if even Jesus, Mary or Joseph had anything to do with Hell. He didn't want to begin to think about Mike's love, that one who wanted to know names. He pointed her to the right and she followed him to the outer edge of the city. She was aware that she was walking through this beautiful forest in a nightgown and robe, while he carried her makeup bag and fluffy towels. The few Elves she past, treated her with respect, holding their hands to their hearts and murmuring "Brave One". Haldir scowled. They treated her as special.

Soon, she could hear running water and in a copse of trees discovered a pond... no... a pool of clear water. Several large rocks were scattered above the water and a waterfall was at the far edge. The sun's morning rays brightened up the clearing. She walked to the edge and dipped her toe in. It was warm. Perfectly warm. She turned to her guard. "I think I can find my way back. Thank you." She shooed him on his way.

"No. I will not leave you."

She placed both hands on her hips. "Look. You said I had it alone. I have no wish to have a parade of onlookers, even if it's a parade of one. I would like some privacy." When she said the word ‘privacy' he understood her consternation, not that it mattered. She saw the shrug coming.

"You have been very ill and you are my duty. I will not leave you. I will look up and contemplate the birds or turn my back, if you will promise to splash, make noise, or Iluvatar forbid, talk to me, so I can hear you. You will trust me."

Trust. Now there was an unrealistic word if she had ever heard one. "Every time someone asked me to trust them, they lied!" She jeered. "Why should I trust you?"

Part of him was furious. No. All of his very being was furious! How dare she assume he was a liar. but his Lady's voice crept into his thoughts.

She has endured a great hurt, greater than even you, our mighty Haldir, have ever experienced. She refuses to remember and therefore refuses to move on. Do not blame her for shielding herself. In many ways, she is like you."

He forced himself to speak softly through gritted teeth. "I am many things, Baraer, but I am not a liar. You have been put into my keeping, my charge. Please understand that it is my duty to die before I would allow any harm or derision to come to you. You have my word that as long as I hear you moving about, I will not look upon you. You have my word" He reiterated the promise, to make his point.

Bronwyn looked into the deep blue eyes of the tall Elf. She could tell that he was restraining himself mightily and could see him unclenching his hands, forcing himself to relax. She realized that she had wounded him in an unknown way.

"I am sorry. I meant no offense. Forgive me."

Haldir was taken aback. The last thing he expected from the she-termagant was a sincere apology. It was a part of her he had not seen. He sat down on a rock and turning his back, looked into the tree tops. She might think he was looking at birds, but in reality he was looking for some of his younger archers, namely Rumil and Orophin, who would try even his wrath for a look at her lovely breasts. It was all the Elves could talking about; the males wondering at their feel and taste and the she-Elves scoffing in derisiveness at the very idea of having such large breasts. They were sure they got in the way of everything but were a little amused by their male counterparts enamoring of them. He heard her robe and gown hit the earth in a quiet whisper and soon heard gentle splashing. Had he turned around, he would have seen her wading to the deepest part with her makeup bag held high above her head.

Bronwyn swam to the rock that appeared to be the flattest. She placed the bag on the smooth boulder and unzipped the pouch. Inside she found things she recognized and realized she had missed; her shampoo, conditioner, a toothbrush, a razor. A small bar of rose scented soap. She wanted to crawl under that waterfall, but first...

She swam. The water was barely deep enough for swimming, she could stand on the bottom and the liquid came to her chin, but it felt so good to be out of clothes and into the warm, clear water. She giggled and did something she hadn't done in years - a handstand, kicking her legs above the water. Haldir heard her splashing and realized he had not played in the bath, since he was a small child. He sat with his back turned, clenching his teeth and looking for his brothers. Several birds flew overhead and he made a mental note that he needed to scout for branches and such to create new arrows. Orcs were delving into the woods at a regular pace and regardless of what Legolas thought, there was going to be a battle in the near future and it would best to prepared with weaponry.

And it dawned on him he had not heard her make a sound in several minutes.

"Bronwyn. I can not hear you."

No answer.

His discontent threatened to bubble forth in a very Haldir-like manner. He deepened his voice with all the authority of the March Warden of the Northern Fences, the highest ranking servant of the Lord Celeborn.

"Bronwyn. Do not test my patience. If you do not answer me now, I will turn around!"

No answer.

Haldir rolled his eyes in fury and stood up. He turned slowly.

And caught his breath.

She had climbed up into the waterfall and was standing in it. With the rushing water falling over her head, she could not hear him. She was facing away from him and was washing her hair, foam flowing down her back. Her hair was piled on her head and her arms were raised, fingers unseen in the suds. Her body was stretched out and the curve of her breast could be clearly seen. Her shoulders were slim and her torso tapered to a narrow waist. Her spine was straight and glistened in the water. He watched as soap suds slid down her silky back to the indention above her hips. They were gently flared and her cheeks curved generously. They were made perfectly, to be cupped, in a lover's hands, made to fit... her legs were long and graceful. He noticed that although it was apparent that recent events had caused her to lose weight, she was returning to what ever her former glory had been. She was muscular, but not overly so. Her muscles were as firm and as defined as a mountain lioness. He realized he was harder than he had been in several hundred years. She finished with her hair and leaned into the wall, retrieving a soap block from a crevice she had found. She began to soap every delectable inch of her skin.

"Rumil! Iluvatar does love his children!" Haldir jerked around to see two pairs of eyes cleverly concealed in the bush. Both of his brothers were wide-eyed and grinning from pointed ear to pointed ear.

Haldir hissed at his brothers. "Leave immediately! She is skittish enough about me being here!"

"Oh and why should you have all the fun? Would you move over? You are blocking the view!" Orophin motioned for Haldir to step aside as Haldir had turned and stepped directly in front of their hiding place.

"I am going to continue to block the view. You must leave now or face the consequences." He heard gasps from his brothers, not about his threat, he was sure, and heard splashing behind him.

"Did you see, Rumil? Did you see? They are-"

"Perfection. Sheer bliss! Haldir, go on and peek! She is not watching!"

Haldir ground his teeth. "Bronwyn, are you alright? I have not heard you in several minutes!"

Her heard her laugh, bright and cheerful above the sounds of the water. "Yes, I was in the waterfall. It is so wonderful!"

Haldir returned his attentions to his brothers. "If you do not leave immediately, I will go to My Lady myself and make sure you do four weeks of weeding in her garden." The Elves did not move. "Four weeks of off days. Myself! And I will work you mercilessly on the Fences!"

Rumil's voice whispered. "I will do five weeks happily if you will allow us five more...oh, sweet flowers of delight!"

"What is she doing now?" Haldir rolled his eyes heavenward. He felt a vast headache coming on and he rubbed his temples. "Well, tell me! You are going to anyway."

"She is doing something with her legs. She has soaped them up and... oh... I am going to have to find Alilian if this keeps up." Orophin sounded as if in pain.

"Bronwyn! What are you doing?" His own leggings were strained at the seams. And he was not even looking!

"I'm shaving my legs!" Haldir heard Orophin groan and back out from the hiding place. Rumil gasped. "Haldir, she has her leg straight over her head and she is scrubbing the back of her... six weeks! Six weeks of penance! It is so very worth it."

"Bronwyn! Please hurry!" Haldir was quickly losing control and he did not like it a bit! To his relief, he heard a splash in the water and then saw Alilian walking down the path, with a gown in her arms.

"Haldir! I have brought this from The Lady Galadriel. I know you have a battalion rotation to be drawing up soon, but can you spare Orophin for a few moments? He just stopped me on the path and said he needed to speak to me about something." There was another splash in the water and Alilian looked into the water. "Well, I suppose I know why now!" she said with a smile.

Haldir's jaw was clenched. "If you would be so kind as to do me a slight favor." Alilian knew the look and the tone and whatever amusement she had found in the situation before was now gone. "I know you are quite able, putting up and keeping my youngest brother in line all these years, but would you please take Rumil, who is hiding amongst these bushes and Orophin by the ears and lead them to Lady Galadriel's garden and tell her that they have earned twelve weeks of off days weeding." Her eyebrows shot up. "In the thorn bushes. No gloves." Alilian gulped and nodded. She heard Rumil take off from under the bush and after laying the dress on the rock Haldir had been sitting on, went to retrieve him and his brother. As she left the clearing, she decided not to make mention of Haldir's own problem, which was very evident.

"Haldir? I'm ready to get out." He backed up, until he reached the towels that had lain between him and the pool. He mentally forced himself to relax as he unfolded the largest and turned around, staring straight at the sky. He held the towel directly in front of him until he felt her body step into it. Without taking into consideration her wishes, he wrapped the long towel around her and looked down, tucking it in behind her. He picked up a second and began to rub her head.

"HEY! Not so rough!" She jerked her head back and glared up at him from behind wet locks. He dropped his hands and turned to pick up the dress.

"My Lady has been kind enough to send you suitable clothing while in her presence." He handed it to her. "Do you need help?"

Bronwyn looked at the beautiful garment. It looked gauzy and was everything that could be called feminine. It was palest of green and sparkled in the sunlight. It was amazingly heavy. "I don't know. I will let you know. Stay turned away, please."

Haldir started to say that he had promised not to look already, but he became enthralled by the sounds behind him. He heard her dry her body and then saw as both towels hit the boulder in front of him as she tossed them. He heard the dress being shook out, rustling, her grunting, sounds as if she were jumping up and down.

And cursing.

"Damn it to hell! How do you put this thing together?" It was obvious she was no delicate flower. "Well... crap... SHITE!" The curses became worse and it sounded as if she was turning in circles. "I have never in my life had this kind of trouble... OOOOH!" She growled low in her throat.

Haldir tipped his head engagingly to one side, looking at the sky. "Would you like my help?" The noise and cursing stopped.

"You have experience with ladies garments?" She sounded doubtful. It was more a statement than a question.

"In all honesty, I have more experience removing the garments, but I believe I can reverse the process." He heard her sharp intake of breath. "May I?"

"Yes." It was whispered. He turned around to see that she had presented her back to him.

She could not reach the fastenings as they were under the train that attached at the shoulder and in truth, he felt badly for her. She had piled her hair over her head and was holding the mass of waves up with both hands. Deftly, he did the fastenings. She dropped her hair and turned around, smoothing the folds in the dress.

It was apparent The Lady had looked long for something close to her size, but had failed in doing so. The dress was at least six inches too long and very tight under the arms, due to the size of her breasts. The neck was scooped and was slightly off the shoulder. It was beaded, lovely. As he had noticed earlier, a train of beaded gauze draped from the back of the shoulder and dangled behind her. The color played off her hair and her skin shone. She smelled of cut flowers and she looked lovely, breathtaking, beautiful -

"You are presentable. Come follow me." He picked up the towels and her bag and strode off back towards the city. Bronwyn, not showing the stinging hurt she felt at his words, picked up the bottom of the gown and padded barefoot behind him.

*** *** *** ***

I can feel the cool breeze on my face as I cradle my harp in my lap. Oh, to be able to bring the ivories out in this wonderful air! Hours in the practice room does horrid things to one's complexion! A tall, handsome, dark-haired man sits next to me. Despite his proximity, I will not stop and I continue to play. He listens to solemnly, as he has all week and I wonder when he will get the nerve to say anything. After twenty minutes, he does. "My name is Ramsey. Ramsey ap Powell. Would you have dinner with me?"


***
tbc
***

Lle naa vanima - You are beautiful
mellon - friend
tithen aras - little dear
Baraer - Fiery One

Chapter 4: Meet me in your garden - or - Peace, Love, and Crabs

They walked back into and through Caras Galadon, Bronwyn was acutely aware that she was being silently watched by all the inhabitants of the city as they quietly passed. Haldir and Bronwyn spoke not a word to each other as they noiselessly made their way to the southern slope. The grasses and earth were cool and soft beneath her bare feet and there were neither roots nor stones for her to stumble on. She could vaguely hear sweet Elven voices, singing high in the trees and she found it beautiful. Although inside her being, she harbored uncertain thoughts and a hammering heart, she put up a front of quiet confidence in her bearing and walk. She was proud in her step, despite her wet hair, lying in wet knots around her shoulders. She was not awed or afraid of the towering Elf leading her through to Galadriel's garden. They wove through tall trees with winding stairwells and twinkling lights. As they moved closer to the middle the city, she could hear sounds of talking, music, baking, every day noises and she realized she missed it. They veered off the main road and went down a small pathway, through an immensely high and exquisitely well-manicured hedge. Once through, they were in a garden of majestic proportions. Flowers of red and white were glorious in bloom and they covered walls and trellises with thick foliage. In patches around well-manicured paths, ground flowers of pink, purple, and white grew under the love of the sun. The wondrous smell assaulted Bronwyn's nostrils and she took it all in. Someone was playing a stringed instrument in the background - it was not her doing, she did not know the song - and Galadriel serenely stood up from her bench and walked over, hands out- stretched in greeting.

"Mae govannen - Welcome Bronwyn, to my garden. May you find it ever peaceful for your needs and a restful refuge from all that is tiresome." Smiling, she clasped Bronwyn's hands with her own.

Bronwyn dipped her head. "Thank you, My Lady." She looked at Haldir, in question. "Am I supposed to curtsy or anything?" she whispered to him.

"Curtsy? To me? Bronwyn, no. And you may call me Galadriel."

Mentally, Haldir's head reeled. The Lady and her husband had always been a friend to Haldir and his family for several millennium, but he always knew his place as servant and never had either Galadriel or Celeborn invited him, the March Warden, to call them by name, as an equal. It had never crossed his mind! Galadriel turned to him. "You have been ever watchful of our guest for several days, laying aside your responsibilities and duties in order to do so and I am pleased with your service in this regards. Your good care of her health shows in her glowing. Her vitality is returning, in thanks to you. " Haldir breathed a sigh of relief, thinking he was about to be released from his responsibility to her. "You have things you would like to do and you need to spend time with your wardens to catch up on the dealings with the patrols on the Fence. Do not be troubled for her today. I will keep watch over her and you may come and retrieve her before the evening meal."

"Retrieve me? Am I a puppy? Bronwyn blurted.

"Retrieve her?" Haldir was equally confused.

Galadriel looked at Haldir and spoke in Silvan. "I have not yet released you from your responsibility. She has not regained what she needs and she is still not totally healed. You may have your days free, as long as someone can be with her, but your responsibility still continues. She is still your charge, Haldir. You will remember that. Now go about to your other duties."

Haldir was stunned. His Lady had never dismissed him as a common anything. His temper, which had been simmering had now reached a breaking point. A muscle twitched in his jaw. "Yes, My Lady." By the tone of his voice, one would have thought nothing was wrong, but Bronwyn could see the set of his shoulders and his spine and knew that some poor soul on the Fences was going to get a rough ride. Haldir turned to Bronwyn and put his hand to heart. "Until evening meal, Lady Bronwyn, I hope you enjoy your day." He turned on heel of his boot and strode proudly away.

She looked at Galadriel. "I don't think he is very happy."

"Sweetness." Galadriel caressed her cheek. " Haldir is never happy. He is ever stern and ever arrogant. He lives to brood." She watched the back of the retreating March Warden. She motioned for Bronwyn to follow her to the bench. "Let us not talk about him right now. Let me take a good look at you." She stepped back and perused her with a critical eye. Bronwyn felt...

...like a horse at auction. Should we smile and let her check our teeth?

"The dress is beautiful and it is a beautiful color on you, but I do not believe it fits you well, does it?" Bronwyn shook her head, negatively. "Well, there is not much to be done for it. By the time we have you fitted for something, I am afraid you will be leaving us and moving towards your destined path."


"I have my own clothes. This was not really necessary." As soon as the words left her lips, she immediately was afraid she had said something offensive. She amended, "This is the most breathtaking garment I have ever worn and I am very truly grateful for it."

Galadriel smiled and took her by the arm, as they strolled down a well-tended path. "I realize you have clothes with you, but would you like to know a secret?" Bronwyn cocked an eyebrow in question. Galadriel raised a finger in delay. "Rúmil. I believe your brother will be wanting you soon. You may go for today."

Haldir's brother came out from behind a bush, brushing leaves and dirt from his leggings. "Yes, My Lady. I will be back when I am free again." He pressed his hand to his heart and smiled rakishly at Bronwyn, his eyes fixated on hers. He turned and strode out of the garden. "I believe he has had a good morning. I hope it overshadows his older brother's."

"My La..." Galadriel's finger went up, "...Galadriel. May I ask a question that is probably none of my business?" Bronwyn paused. She had not understood a word of the exchange, but it was apparent that Rúmil was weeding the garden, a not so normal chore for an archer. "It was my understanding that weeding in your garden was a punishment. What did Rúmil do to warrant something as this?"

Galadriel scowled at the shrubbery. "Believe me, the crime does not fit the consequences. I would override the bestower of the penalty, however he is going to be tried sorely over the next few weeks and to publicly nay say his authority would have damaging effects on his command. Besides," she shrugged elegantly and smiled, " Rúmil bargained for the punishment, as did his brother, so they will have to live with it." She looked down at Bronwyn. "You, my dear, are turning unattached Elven heads and a few attached ones, as well. ‘Tis the first time many have had a chance to look and observe closely a real Woman. They are finding the experience, shall we say, uplifting and some cause for merriment." She sat down on a bench and gestured for Bronwyn to sit at her feet. "Please come and be comfortable and amuse an old Elleth. Your hair lies in damp clumps. May I brush it dry and arrange it?" Bronwyn sat and presented her head to The Lady of the Wood, feeling rather self-conscious, that this imposing figure whom many revered was playing in her hair.

"Why would I be the cause of merriment? And you are not old!" She heard Galadriel laughing gently.

" I am older than you would ever believe and if you were a young male or same sexually inclined, I would say you were trying to soften me up with honeyed words. Now, as for the source of the merriment, you have rather prominent breasts. Our people are not used to that and they wonder how sensitive they are and what they would feel like." Bronwyn took a sharp intake of breath, stunned by her directness. "Oh, do not fear them. Elves are not in the habit of really taking anyone by force against their wishes. They will not do so to you. They would not get past Haldir." Galadriel had a brush and was gently coaxing the tangles from the mass of hair. "I have never seen hair like this, not in its thickness, nor in its shade. It is another thing we find fascinating about you. It is lovely." She was aware that Bronwyn was being lulled by the stroking motion of the brush. "Now, would you like to hear the secret?"

Bronwyn nodded.

"Haldir yearned to see you clothed thus."

"No way!" Bronwyn jerked her head around. "He wanted to see me dressed like this?"

Galadriel turned her head back away from her, so she could continue brushing the dampness away. "Yes. He desired to see you clothed in something beautiful and delicate. What did he say when he saw you dressed in this?"

"He said I looked presentable." Bronwyn muttered pevishly.

"Ah. What a nice compliment from Haldir." Galadriel continued stroking her hair. There was silence for a few, precious moments.

"Haldir wanted to see me like this?"

"Yes."

"He told you this."

"No. He did not have to tell me. I could see it, sense it."

"Oh."

The brushing continued for many minutes. Her hair was thick and it took time for the strands to be coaxed to give up the moisture drenched to the roots. Galadriel watched as the guarded set of her shoulders and back relaxed and unbristled. She was aware that in the air, music that she had never heard was playing. It was flawless, peaceful and reminded one of the sounds of the forest. Instruments she did not know existed soared in heights of melodic waves. Bronwyn's eyes were closed, her breathing shallow. She was not asleep, but she was completely relaxed. Her head and right hand moved with the melodic line.

"Bronwyn."

"Yes". Her voice was soft, in a place far away.

"What manner of music are we listening to?"

"Ah. Beethoven. Sixth Symphony. The Pastorale." Bronwyn spoke slowly, as in a deep, lingering trance.

"It is beautiful."

"Yes. It is." A long pause " He was losing his hearing when he wrote it. It was his goodbye to nature."

Galadriel laid the brush down. Her hair was dry. She began to attempt to weave it in a style she knew best. "How sad. He was never able to compose again?"

"Oh. He wrote his best music when he lost his hearing completely." They listened to the music while Galadriel attempted to weave her hair. When the music gave out its last note, Galadriel dropped her hands in mock despair.

"Oh, I give up! Your hair refuses to braid and lay properly. The ends keep escaping and playing with my fingers! Here! Stand up and look at me."

Both women stood, light over the dark. Bronwyn took her fingers and mussed through her locks. They fell in place in a riot, framing her face. "I have worked for over an hour," Galadriel mused, "and you have accomplished in seconds what I could not. Come, let us walk." They strolled through the garden, Galadriel watching Bronwyn take in every flower. She asked for each name, when it bloomed, how easy or hard was it to care for. She smelled every one. Every now and then she would comment on how this one looked familiar, or she called it by a different name. Hyacinths, Impatiens, Darwin tulips, Salome and White Hood Daffodils, -

"-have you seen yellow daffodils? They are so happy." -

so many flowers she knew. "Camilla's" she said at one shrub, her fingers stroking the petals. "This is a camilla back home. I love them almost as much as..." her voice drifted off and she stopped walking.

"As much as what, Bronwyn?" Bronwyn was very quiet.

"As much as roses." The voice was quiet. There was a long silence. "I am lost."

Galadriel stood behind her. Bronwyn was staring into the trees. "I am lost," she repeated.

"Yes you are."

"I want to go back home."

"I am sorry. That will not happen."

"I want to go back home. I want my cottage. I want my life. I want what was taken from me, returned." Her voice was far away, dream-like.

"I am sorry, Bronwyn. That is not your destiny."

Even Tari, wife of Oreme, she thought, has grieved your loss, but accepted what the Valar have done to you.

"I am poured out. Empty."

"Yes you are." Galadriel enclosed her in embrace. "But, you will be filled if you would accept all and allow it." She felt Bronwyn's body stiffen and stand taller. The moment had passed. She hoped it would be enough to set her over. Bronwyn stepped out of the Elleth's arms.

"What is that glade over there?" She started towards it. Galadriel reached out and gently grasped her elbow.

"No, not today, sweetness. That is where my mirror rests and perhaps soon, we will go look at it." She gently turned her around. "It is time for lunch and then Alilian is bringing your clothes and the bow Legolas gifted you. You will be going to the archery field to work with her for several hours." She took her by the hand and led her away from the glade. You are taking steps toward the truth, she thought, but you are not ready for that. Will it revelation shatter you again? "Come, food is waiting."

Galadriel led her from the garden to a large white talan, high in the trees. There, they feasted on fruit and salad greens, with sweet onions and dressings and a light fruity wine. Celeborn joined them and together, he and his wife watched their guest daintily gorged herself with food. Alilian came with the clothes and the boots she wore when she arrived, only now they were clean and smelled fresh. And she brought an extra bag of things plus Legolas' bow. Alilian handed Bronwyn the bag and Galadriel explained that the elleth had gone through the roll and had taken things she thought Bronwyn might need.

Celeborn looked at Galadriel, while Bronwyn went into another part of the talan to change. "Is this wise?" he asked. "My love, I would never question your judgment. But it has not been that long."

"She needs the exercise. She is not the type to lounge in bed or even in a garden, allowing servants to run and wait on her every need. Her body is healing, her mind, although she fights it, is also moving her towards her destiny. She will need to be whole in both mind, body and spirit when the time comes, and time grows painfully short." She reached over and held her husband's hand. "Already, abilities are coming to her in relaxation. When she learns to control them, they will be a great source of power and will aid her maneuverability to persuade those that would not be persuaded. Today, she will tire and her body will be too exhausted to hold back all of her demons. Tonight, the turning begins in earnest. And Haldir will do what he must to help her though it."

They heard noises in the doorway and saw Bronwyn comically jumping around, pulling on a boot. When she stood up full, it took Celeborn's breath.

The warrior had returned.

***

Alilian had gone to help her, really more interested in how all her things came on and fit and where all the strange clothing went. Bronwyn laid the clothes on the bed and took a quick mental inventory.

And smiled a wicked smile.

I never thought I would see the day when I missed my bra!

Her undergarments were there. These were her one indulgence - or they had been her indulgence. She turned her back to Alilian and lifted up her hair. The elleth deftly undid the fasteners and Bronwyn gratefully stepped out of the dress. She laid it tenderly on the bed, but she was grateful to get out of its confines. She stood naked in the room, unconcerned for the first time in...

...ages...

...of her nudity. She picked up the first undergarment and looked. It was black.

Bronwyn! Get real! They are all black!

It was... she closed her eyes and thought. Underwear. Panties. In a style she preferred. While other women were wearing...

...butt floss...

...she continued to wear French bikinis. She quickly slipped into them and picked up the bra. It was wired, fully supportive and made of smooth satin. She heard a questionable noise. She turned around. Alilian reached out and fingered the cup. She seemed disturbed with the wire.

"Bra." Bronwyn said the word slowly. "Bra"

"Brrrrrrrrr-ah" Alilian repeated.

Bronwyn slipped it around and hooked it up. She got the shoulder straps set in place and setting her breasts in place, breathed a comic sigh of relief. Alilian looked pained. She then turned to the bag. Black hair fasteners and bands with her other toiletries where there. Her make up bag, which Haldir had apparently left, was also there. She put the bands on her left wrist and picked up the clothing and proceeded to shock Alilian to the tips of her pointed ears.

***

Both Celeborn and Galadriel arose from the table. Her pants, had they asked, were made of black denim, skin tight, showing the generous curves of her derriere. It laced up in the front. nt. Her shirt was of black gauze, with a low vee neck. Although loose and comfortable, it molded to her breasts. The wrists were elegantly ruffled and rather than gathered around the cuffs, were tied around the wrist. The sleeves were full and she had on black leather gauntlets. The shirt was tucked in and around her neck hung a black leather cord with a silver cross. Her boots, cleaned and polished, were of supple leather, black and were tucked under her pants. Her hair was loose. Fire highlights shone through it in the sunlight. She moved gracefully into the room. Celeborn could smell her. Flowers and leather. What a combination. He glanced at his wife. She had caught him unawares and was smiling in that knowing manner of hers.

The warrior caught their glance. And impishly grinned.

***

Gonna raise hell...
If what I've heard is true
There's not much I can do
Gonna raise hell...

(Cheap Trick)


***

The woman and the Elleth made their way down to the archery field. Bronwyn was again aware of the unseen and quiet eyes on her as she walked by. She carried Legolas' bow - she would always consider it his bow, although he had gifted it to her - in her hand. She walked almost as silently as she-Elf and carried about her a confidence that was not artificial. She was graceful, elegant, albeit, diminutive next to Alilian. The air parted as both females walked silently down into the fields. They passed the watchtower, not realizing that a cold pair of eyes watched them from its shadows. Haldir had looked up from reports in time to see Rúmil, Orophin, and Heridil wander to the doorway.

"Orophin, it looks like Alilian is going to see what the Brave One can do with the prince's bow." Orophin nodded. Rúmil looked at his little brother. "I will wager you a week of penance that she hits the target at least nine out of ten times."

Orophin considered the wager. He had heard Legolas' and Aragorn's praise of her skill with the knives and knew that Legolas was equally impressed with her bow skills. But he also remembered that Legolas had been preoccupied while Bronwyn had been proving her skills. "Make it two weeks and you are on! Her skill might be decent, but I do not think she is that good."

Haldir was not pleased that work, which had gone on in a disgustingly smooth manner in his absence, had come to a complete halt to watch that Woman. He got up to remind his archers of their duties, when he got a good look at Bronwyn. He caught his breath. She was tiny from up in the tower, but delectably made. She looked like she had been poured into her leggings. She had set the bow perpendicularly in the dirt and was resting her hands on it, feet apart, while Alilian fetched a quiver and arrows for her. Her back was straight, proud and although he could not see her face, he could tell she was contemplating the target.

Alilian helped her into the quiver and Bronwyn struggled to reach over her shoulder for the arrow. She looked at Alilian and said quietly, "You know, I will be mightily incensed if we have an audience." Alilian looked at her, not comprehending. Bronwyn looked into the tower and saw a small crowd gathered around the top.

Oh well, she sighed. So much for that!

Haldir stood to one side, eyes narrowed, arms across his chest. Allian looked up and saw the Elves. She patted Bronwyn on her shoulder and shook her head as if to say, "Do not mind them!" Alilian liked the tiny woman - The Brave One - they were calling her. She would have never believed it had she not been there, that Bronwyn had withstood the terrors of Moria alone. Alilian would not go near that place unless she had a full contingent of archers with her - including Orophin and both of his brothers. She noticed Bronwyn had turned and was looking up at Haldir. She was using the tip of the arrow to scratch down her back beneath her bra and she had arched out, straining against her blouse, relishing the scratching of her back. Alilian realized she was giving all the Elves in the tower something to make them wilt. A rather mischievous smile was on her mouth.

She turned back to Alilian and said, "Shall we begin?" She notched the arrow and turned towards the nearest target. She lifted the bow, carefully took aim and released the bow.

It landed three feet in front of the target.

Bronwyn looked at Alilian , who in turned looked at the arrow in the grass. "Well, that sucked!" Bronwyn grinned at Alilian with all the humor she could muster. She struggled to get another arrow out of the quiver and notched it. She set her aim. Alilian tapped her on the shoulder and pushed her bow hand up a few inches. She steadied her aim and let the arrow go again.

It fell two feet in front of the target.

Heridil looked down at the two women. "It is her grip." He raised his voice to Alilian . "Check her grip." He had heard the stories as well, had seen the brothers carry her in. He wanted to see the tiny brunette set all three brothers back on their haunches.

Bronwyn looked up at the elleth. Alilian smiled and moved her hand on the bow, rearranging her fingers. She struggled with a third arrow and notched it. Aiming it at the target and raising it a few more inches, she shot again.

This time, she overshot the mark, the arrow gracefully arching into the woods behind the targets. Enraged yells rose up from the forest. Orophin began to laugh. He punched his brother in the arm. "Two weeks more, Rúmil! It looks like you spoke too soon." Haldir had seen enough. She had almost shot a returning archer from the Fences. He started to head down to the field, to take control of the situation before it got out of hand. Rúmil held him back and looked at Orophin. "Be patient. Watch."

Bronwyn was looking up into the tower, having heard the laughter. Her eyes narrowed and her attention fixed on Haldir. He wasn't laughing. He looked like stone. Her gaze returned to Alilian. The Elleth was looking at her with compassion and pity. She would be damned before she allowed anyone to pity her! She handed her the bow. "Hold this.", she said in a commanding tone. She shrugged out of the quiver and retrieved the bands from her wrist. Deftly, she wove her hair into a bound ponytail, with the first band at the back of the top of her head, with additional knots every inch. Nothing was left on her face but her bangs, her hair crisscrossed on the sides of her head, not in a braid, but every strand tucked in. She gestured to the fingerless leather glove on Alilian 's hand. The elleth pulled it off and handed it to her. Putting it on, she removed the arrows from the quiver and lined them up, point down in the ground. She motioned Alilian to step back. She pointed with two fingers to her eyes and then to the target.

Focus. Stay focused.

And started singing. Arrows flew in rhythm to the song projected from her throat.

The four elves were stunned. Haldir could hear her voice rise and after a few stanzas, began to pay attention to the words floating up.

"Well I met (Thunk) an Elf (Thunk)
in Lothlórien (Thunk) Woods (Thunk)
Now, I (Thunk) ain't namin' (Thunk) names. (Thunk) (Thunk)
Well he really (Thunk) worked (Thunk) me over (Thunk) good (Thunk)
Jus' (Thunk) like (Thunk) Jesse James'. (Thunk) (Thunk)


When it was completely over, thirty arrows were embedded in three targets, ten apiece. All were in the bulls eye area. Alilian was grinning from ear to ear, as was Rúmil. He said to his brother "That is ten out of eleven. I believe you owe me two weeks." He looked down at the females. "And I do not think the show is over!"

It wasn't.

For three hours, Bronwyn and Alilian shot at the targets. Haldir heard lyr lyrics heaped upon the air then he thought possible. He even thought a few were aimed at him. He didn't know who "Georgie" was, but his girlfriend was poison and she had a reputation as nasty as "the Berlin Wall." She sang about the "Dream Police." and apparently she didn't know what she was looking for, until she heard the voices in her ears. He and his archers had been forced to watch her gyrate with victory dances for correct shots. They had needed no translation for "Lay your hands on me." and he honestly thought he was going to have to quell a revolt at the point when she "felt the magic of your touch." They had found out she was "Hey now, you're an all-star." and if he never saw her swivel her hips, do that wild thing with the bow and chant "Go Bronwyn! Go Bronwyn!" again, it would be too soon for him. Even Alilian and his brothers were joining her when she did them. And he had no clue to what "Peace, love, and crabs" meant nor did he want to venture about who "Cornholio" was or why he needed "TP" for his "Bunghole." It sounded... crude! His ears caught the final stanza of the last song, while the two pulled the arrows out of the targets.

"Like a phoenix, I have risen from the flames.
Too long the songs have been silent
Too long the strings have been still
I never knew what you wanted
And I guess that I never will.
I have cried too,
I have cried too long."


He climbed down the watchtower rope and started to walk up behind her. She turned, quickly, bow up, arrow notched.

Dark, frigid, blue eyes stared through flaming brown. She did not drop her bow and took aim.

And let her arrow lose.

As it passed his ear, the breeze ruffled his hair over his left shoulder and the missile made a clear thud as it imbedded itself into the post of the watchtower, not inches from his head.

"Don't sneak up on me!" She set the bow longwise to the ground. He pulled the arrow from the post and stalked up to her.

"You talk to much when you shoot. You move to much and your grip is wrong. You must learn to use a quiver because you will not be able to put arrows in the ground in a hurry. You almost shot one my Wardens earlier with a missed shot." He looked at the corded cross around her throat. In the blink of an eye, his hand whipped out and jerked the cord from her neck. He held it in front of her face. "You do not wear such things in battle. They can be used against you." He took her hand and placed the cross in it. "You will go to The Lady's talan and change clothes. I will be there shortly and we will go back to my parents' talan and have a quiet dinner. You have worked very hard today and should be very tired."

She wasn't tired and tried to tell him that, but he had turned his back to her and went back up to the watchtower. Alilian stood next to her with Orophin.

"Bronwyn?"

She looked at .Alilian "Yes?"

Alilian smiled shyly. "Peace, love, and crabs?"

Bronwyn laughed deep in her throat. "Yeah, Alilian . Peace, love, and crabs."

***

It was late at night, well after the moon had passed its zenith. And Haldir sat in the chair, next to her bed, watching. She had not changed her clothes when he stopped at the garden and it infuriated him she had disobeyed his wishes.

Celeborn had pulled him aside as he entered and spoke quietly.

"You will not use any aids for her sleep tonight. None. No matter how much she needs it or you need it, you will allow what comes, to come and rise to the surface. Do what you have to do to sooth her, but do not ease her dreams. Her body is tired and her mind will force down her barriers. Have Rúmil, Orophin, or Alilian to stay there tonight as well. If her demons are fierce, then they can come and ask for our assistance." Celeborn looked over his shoulder into the garden. "I hear that once she figured out where the target was at, she put on quite the exhibition."

"She needs practice." He began to list her problem areas, her weakness, which in his eyes, were many. Celeborn nodded thoughtfully. Haldir was at best, a difficult taskmaster, but he was thorough and he was the best archer and March Warden in Lothlórien.

"Would you like to work with her? I can arrange that if you like."

Haldir drew a deep breath. "I have many things to see to, as you well know. However if you wish I lay them aside to tutor her in skills, then I can do that."

Celeborn could tell that the last thing Haldir wanted was to be forced to teach Bronwyn anything, so he left it alone. Haldir quickly took his leave and fetched Bronwyn to the talan.

So now he sat, Rúmil in the other room and he in the chair, with Bronwyn. He had been correct in his assumption that she was exhausted. She had literally been bouncing like an Elfling's ball when she left the field, but by the time they had climbed the talan, she was too tired to eat. She had gone straight to bed and fallen straight into reverie. She had dropped her clothes where she had stood and Haldir had picked them up and lain them neatly on the table.

"White pills...lined up like pearls."

He looked closely. She had been restless for the past hour, but had not spoken until now.

"Ramsey! Ramsey! How could you do this? Why didn't you tell me?" Her voice rose and she cried; Haldir could see tears starting to roll down her cheek. " I would have understood. I would have stepped aside, or stayed at your side. Why didn't you tell me?" Her voice continued to rise.

Rúmil padded from the other room. "Is she alright? Should I go to The Lady?"

Haldir shook his head negatively. "She has had nightmares in the past. She wakes up when you comfort her and she stops." He passed over to the bed and sat. "Baraer, I am here." He laid his hand on her shoulder. She flew straight up in the bed, eyes wide, yet still asleep. She took her finger and poked Haldir hard in the chest.

"No! No! You tell them no! Alex knew what he was doing!"

Alex? Who was this new person?

She grabbed Haldir by the tunic. "You tell them no and no again! How dare they come to me at the hospital? How dare they accuse? How dare they make that demand! I will see them in hell first! Tell them no!" He put his arms around her and heled her close.

And realized she was naked under the quilt. His hands caressed her bare back, silky skin, rigid spine.

"I will tell them. Do not worry. You are safe."

"Safe. Safe." She took a deep breath and leaned on him. "White pearls, white pearls, all in row. No water to swallow. Damn it! No water!" She began to sob harder. Haldir realized he was rocking her and was kissing her ear. "Duncan, Duncan, please don't leave me. Please, take me with you. I have nothing, please don't. Go to the light, Duncan. Don't leave me. " Her wails raised higher and Haldir was at a loss. He looked over his shoulder to Rúmil.

"I am going to get them. I will be back shortly." Haldir heard his brother leave on wings of quiet flight out of the talan. He returned his attention back to the sobbing woman in his arms. She seemed to start settling down.

"I'm lost. I'm so lost and I can't go home. I have no home. All is lost. Damn the vessel. It stays empty. I want my cottage by the sea. I want my life. Please, please, give it back. Let me die. Who do you think you are to take all from me? Let me go to the light! Liars! Liars all!" There was no sound for so long. He started to lie her back down and she clasped him to her. "Haldir." She said his name clearly. He looked down. She was still deep in reverie, her arms wrapped around his chest. "My beautiful angel." She had called him that before. "It hurts, it hurts so. Please don't leave me."

"I have promised not to leave you, Baraer." Her body relaxed and he laid her down. As her head touched the pillow, she cried out again and her hands latched on to his tunic. Haldir did the only thing he knew; he crawled in beside her. As he slid under the quilt, clothes and all, she snuggled up and slid her ankles between his legs, her hands curled under her chin and her face pressed against his neck. He could feel hot tears continuing to slide down her face, down his neck. His arms held her close and she relaxed at his familiarity. He glanced at the door and saw Rúmil with Galadriel and Celeborn. Galadriel drifted in and leaned over the bed.

What did she say? That was His Lady's voice in his head, he knew her probings. He did not have to speak to communicate.

She talks of Duncan and being lost. She talks of not being told and telling someone no. She is begging for the row of white pearls and water. She feels lied to and taken advantage of. It comes out in a torrent and I can not make heads or tails of it.

A ragged sob arose from his neck-Bronwyn was crying softly. "Duncan, please don't leave me. Let me die. Go to the light."

The Lady leaned over the bed, over Bronwyn, over Haldir.

Ask her, Haldir. Ask her who Duncan is.

"Baraer, Sweetling, who is Duncan?" The endearment escaped his lips easily and he was disturbed because he did not know it lived there. She sighed in his arms and he felt her breath exhale.

"My son. Duncan is my precious son." He looked up to The Lady. She told him wim what to ask next.

"Baraer, lirimaer, where is Duncan?"

At first, there was no sound. And then softly, so softly he could barely hear...

"They killed him. They killed my baby and took him away."

***
lirimaer - Lovely One
baraer - fiery one