But Still I Hope:
The Time Will Come
Volume Two of Three

By Deby & SilliMarilli

With contributions by the rest of the Burping Troll Adventurers

Latest editing July 28, 2003

Cast of Characters: Elanna, Halbarad, Anoriath, Elros, Bob, 
Carcharien, Celebsul, Pippin, Aerio, 
Milo, Meri, Erin, Camellia, 
Sewulf, Beregrid, Sevilodorf and Anardil

An Accounting of Events From November to Yuletide of 1421 SR

2	Chapter One
13	Chapter Two
27	Chapter Three
42	Chapter Four
54	Chapter Five
70	Chapter Six
83	Chapter Seven
100	Chapter Eight
108	Chapter Nine
127	Chapter Ten
139	Chapter Eleven
146	Chapter Twelve
152	Chapter Thirteen
161	Chapter Fourteen

Chapter One

The Burping Troll
Northern Ithilien
November 1421 SR

Rising from his drowsy slump in the saddle, Elros' heart warmed at the sight of the Troll glimpsed through the trees that lined the south road.  Whether his mount recognized the indefinable scent of home or he felt the tension return to his rider's legs, the gelding roused to a gentle lope.  Aye, it always felt good to come back home and Elros was as eager to return as the horse.  Home.  The last place he had considered home, aside from the one he had shared with his parents, was Mateon and Elena’s station.  Bob’s parents had always treated him as one of their own.  Indeed, Elena had been especially kind after his mother’s death, recognizing the grief he carried despite his silence.  Bob, Halbarad, Anardil were more than companions in arms were, they were the brothers he had never had, and Elanna was the favored baby sister of all.  Elros smiled fondly in remembrance.  He had gladly contributed his share in indulging her.  Anoriath was more comrade than a sister; stubbornly determined to be treated as a fellow Ranger, one of the men.  Soon after joining them, they had learned to avoid any hint of coddling her, or else feel the sharp prick of her ire.

Upon reflection, Elros pulled his horse to a stop before entering the short path from the road to The Burping Troll's front porch, patting the gelding's neck.  “It’s all right boy," he murmured.  "Just let me have a moment and there will be extra oats in it for you.”

Elros snorted softly and settled back in his saddle.  'One of the men.'  And indeed he had thought of Anoriath thus for many years; but to his dismay, no longer.  A capable Ranger, aye, but Elros had ceased to see her as merely the sister of his friend and a comrade in arms.  Elanna was not the only one out of sorts that day their captain had pulled them from their duties to tend to weapons and gear.  Truth be told, the befuddlement of his heart seemed insignificant when compared to the young Ranger's tormented confusion.  Still, it was his and after the exhausting months of being the anchor to his friends who had spun helplessly on boundless storms of fear far from their harbor, he hadn’t known what to do with it.

And so, Halbarad had urged him to travel to Emyn Arnen on ‘pressing business.'  Elros knew exactly why he had been sent to the Prince’s ancestral city and was grateful for it.  Escaping from the disturbing gaze of sea pale eyes, the trip had given him a chance to put a stop to the thoughts that only succeeded in twisting in upon themselves the more he gave them play.  Still, those eyes were never far from his mind.  Even now they filled his thoughts as he sat on his horse in the middle of the road.  Was he ready to face them again?  And what would he read in them? 
 
“There is only one way to find out you coward,” he said softly to himself, the horse’s ears swiveling around at the sound.  “And it’s not by sitting out here talking to yourself.”

Tapping his heels to his horse’s side and clucking his tongue, Elros rode the last few yards to the south entrance.  He heard them before he saw them, doubtless they had halted somewhere between the northern corner of the Troll and the barn.  From their distant voices, he gathered that Bob and Elanna had apparently been out riding.

“Please Bob, just a little while longer,” Elanna pleaded in a tone that drew a sudden grin from Elros in recognition.  It had been difficult for any of them to deny her when she would beg so prettily.  He had no doubt that the child Elanna once was had been well aware of the effect her wide eyes and winning smile had on her brother and his friends and had applied herself assiduously to dazzling them into submission.

“Elanna, you know what Bele said, only a short ride,” Bob replied firmly, the heavy thump of his boots could be heard as he hit the ground.  

Elros chuckled silently to himself at her brother's response.  So, Bob was having none of it, was he?  It had only taken him ten years to learn the girl's mischief.  Elros smiled at the exasperated snort coming from the pretty young woman.  She sounded so much like Anoriath, which, he supposed, was only appropriate since that was no doubt where she had picked up that particular manner of expressing herself.  As Elros approached the pair, he wondered just what Halbarad made of that.  The thought caused him to grin roguishly, only to have her next words wipe the amusement from his face.

“I am not an invalid,” Elanna insisted stubbornly.

Elros sighed and pulled back on the reins until his horse stopped.  How many times had they heard that particular set of words in the past weeks?  They usually preceded one of her ‘episodes’ as Bob had named them.  With a creak of the saddle, the Ranger dismounted heavily.  He had been able to lay aside his worries about his friends when he left the Troll.  Yet it seemed that time and distance had cured nothing, and his worries had merely awaited his return.  

On his feet, Elros absently slapped his mount on the neck while he considered his next move.  As engrossed as they were in their debate, walking from here would not alert the siblings to his presence.  It would also give him a chance to see which way the wind was blowing before he threw himself on the mercy of the storm.  

Thus decided, Elros took a few steps and listened closely to Bob's patient explanation.  “Last night was a very draining experience and though you feel much better today, Belegalda still said you needed to take it slowly for a few days.”

Elros stopped in his tracks, his shoulders tense.  He held his breath, waiting for the inevitable explosion.  It never came.  In utter and complete astonishment, his jaw dropped when he recognized the Elanna from before her assignment in Nurn in her response.  

“I know,” Elanna sighed and Elros heard a lighter thump on the ground as Elanna dismounted. 

She had not sounded this able to tolerate the small everyday frustrations when he left less than a week ago.  What had happened while he was gone?  Praying that whatever change had come over the girl would not fleet away before he could confirm with his eyes what his ears professed, Elros strode into the courtyard of the Troll, listening as he walked.

“But as soon as Bele and Celly say I can, I want to go on a long ride,” she insisted before a teasing note played with the timbre of her voice.  “And I want that race you're attempting to postpone because I know that you’re just afraid I’ll win.“

Bob laughed out loud, earning muffled snorts and the leather flapping of reins as the horses protested such verbal abuse.  “You have never beaten me in a race yet and I’m not about to let you do it now,” he exclaimed.  

“I wouldn’t be too sure of that,” Elros interjected, unnoticed behind the pair.

“Elros!” Elanna turned and squealed in delight, dropping the reins from her hands.  “You’re back!”

Elros’ horse huffed and pranced backwards a few steps to distance itself from the yelp that grated on its sensitive hearing.  But the Ranger had no such luck, for he soon found himself held helpless, bound in a pair of warm and flesh-covered iron bands.  The fierceness of the embrace and the pure, unadulterated happiness behind it startled him so badly that he could only stand frozen for a moment.  Belatedly, he returned the gesture while anxiously catching Bob’s eye over his sister's head.  Her brother was of little help, though, for he just stood there with a grin as silly as Elros had ever seen plastered across his face.  

Gently, Elros freed himself from the prison of her embrace, pushing her back at the shoulders until he could see her face.  The clear deep blue of Elanna's eyes brought to mind a mountain lake, serene and untainted.

“You are well?” he asked solicitously.

For a fleeting moment he saw the shadow of a cloud that passed over the brilliant blue and the brightness dimmed, her smile faltered.  Then the shadows were gone and the light returned.

“Not yet,” Elanna answered him, softly at first but then in a confident voice.  “But I will be.”

The simple conviction of that statement smote his heart and one of the chains of worry that had bound him came undone.  Elros abruptly crushed Elanna against his chest.  The relief he felt at that moment threatened to overwhelm him.  Bob's inane grin found its match on the quiet Ranger's face.  

“Elanna!” a piping voice scolded from the porch, breaking them apart.  “Bele distinctly said that you were not to be gone over an hour and that you had to rest when you returned.” 

The wide smile on the round hobbit face put to rest any fears of true anger she might have harbored.  Erin was far too happy that her half-elven friend had found freedom from the darkness that had shadowed her to truly be displeased; though her concern was genuine enough.

“Oh!  Hullo Elros," Erin called as she strode firmly down the porch steps and toward them.  "We wondered what time you would be back today.  Meri baked something special for you.  She was afraid that they wouldn’t feed you properly in Emyn Arnen.  It may be the Steward's home, but the last time I was there, I didn't see any proper hobbits."

Elros dropped Elanna to the ground and the three Rangers stood silently under the halfling's verbal barrage.  The words came at them so swiftly that they were scarce given the space to take a breath with which to answer or make comment.  Which was just as well, for Erin did not expect an answer.

"And as for you, Miss Elfy Britches," the hobbit-lass prattled on.  "You had better skedaddle on up to your room before Bele comes to check on you.  You don’t want to have a relapse or something because you’ve overdone it.  Don’t worry about your horse.  Bob will take care of Dusul, won’t you Bob?”

Bob blinked.  "I will?"

But, ignoring him, Erin just stood with one hand on her hip and the other stretched out to Elanna.

Elanna resisted at first.  “Will you come up later and tell me all about your trip?” Elanna asked of Elros.  The young woman giggled and held her hands behind her back, evading the hobbit's playful clutching.  “Tell me the way you used to?  I promise it won’t be in a tree this time.”

Elros grinned indulgently while Elanna ducked behind him, followed swiftly by a whirl of small skirts.  “Of course I will," he said, evading a quick grab across his side, "and thank you for not making me climb again.  I’ll never be as comfortable as you perched on a branch.”

Elanna finally put her hand in Erin’s and allowed herself to be led back to the inn, the hobbit clucking her tongue over her charge‘s lack of concern for her well-being.  She didn't allow Elanna to get in a word edgewise until the two females had started up the steps of the porch, and that only because the halfling had had to stop to take a breath.  The men shared silent laughter.  They knew better than to let Erin hear them.  Elros and Bob exchanged nostalgic grins at Elanna's explanation as it drifted back to them.

“Elros used to tell me the most wonderful stories about the Rangers," she said.  "He would always sit in my favorite tree with me, even though he complained afterwards.”

The lilting voice faded from their hearing after the two passed through the front entrance and the door clicked shut behind them.

“Come on El, let’s get these horses put up,” Bob urged, picking up Dusul‘s reins.  “And how about I tell you a story this time?”

***

The horses had been fed and watered and the tack put away.  Elros’ bedroll and saddlebags sat on the bench outside the grain room, propped against their owner.  The Ranger himself leaned his back against the wall and stretched his legs out before him, slowly absorbing the implications of his friend's tale.  

“Now, let me get this straight,” Elros urged, scratching the back of his scalp pensively.  “You were part of an elven healing for Elanna which involved you being there, inside her head.  During this healing, she remembered, or, rather, relived what happened during her imprisonment in Nurn.  And this was with Halbarad and Anoriath there too, right?”

Bob resumed his pacing in the aisle at the front of the stable and frowned slightly as he answered, “Yes, they were there too.”  He paused, unaware that his feet had halted with his thoughts.  “We weren’t inside her head, not like the way Cel can be.” 

Bob paused again.  The events of the previous night had been so far beyond his ken that he found it difficult to explain what he, himself, barely understood.  He spied an empty crate nearby and abruptly dragged it over so that he could sit facing Elros.  

“Elanna told me that when Celebsul was in her mind, she could see him and touch him, the way I’m touching you right now,” Bob explained, lightly poking Elros’ arm.  “But she couldn’t see me or the others and we could not see her.  Yet we could feel her presence and she could feel ours.”  The flow of Bob’s words slowed as he tried to put words to the unfathomable.  "Belegalda reflected our support, for lack of a better word, back to Elanna like a mirror catching the sunlight to send it back to watching eyes.”

“It was the strangest experience of my life, El,” Bob blurted, abruptly catching his friend's eye, mystified.

Elros scowled lightly in uncertainty.  “Stranger than Dunharrow?” he asked.  The dark ride to the Stone of Erech was the most extraordinary event that he had ever participated in, and thus the only standard by which he could reasonably comprehend his friend's encounter.

Bob grimaced at the comparison; there was not a Ranger who rode with Aragorn on the Paths of the Dead that would soon forget it.  Only their great love for the Dunadan had steeled their hearts enough to follow him through the shadowed doorway deep into the roots of the mountain.  

Bob rubbed his chin thoughtfully.  “Remember the ride and the Dead that followed us?”

“Aye,” Elros replied quietly.

Eerie mutterings had whispered about them when they took shelter at the Stone of Erech, the disembodied voices of the Dead.  To a man they slept but little, some swearing that they could feel the clammy fingers of the shades of men whenever the mists passed too near to them.  Bob was one of them.

“There were times then and during the night that I felt ...  their touch, not a true touch.”  Bob fumbled with his explanation.  “More like a memory of a hand at your shoulder or on your arm.  The hand is not there but you can feel it as if it was.  I mean-” Bob let out an explosive growl as words failed him.

Elros rested his hand on Bob’s knee.  "I know what you mean.  I felt it too.”  Elros removed his hand to absentmindedly rub his arm.  “It was there but it wasn’t.  It was like the slightest of cold breezes sliding over bare skin that cause your whole body to shiver.”

Bob nodded vigorously.  “Yes, like that,” he agreed, but his enthusiasm dimmed when he recalled why he had started this whole line of comparison in the first place.  Nervously, he rubbed his hands on his pants.

“During this ceremony, there were times when I - I felt as she did,” Bob revealed slowly.  Telling Elros was his idea in the first place, but now that it came down to it; he was reluctant to delve into the memories the tale required.  “It came through here and there in flashes, but it was like the touch of the Dead.  The cold caress on my skin was no more real than the ghost touch at the Stone, just as the whispers of the Dead were not meant for me anymore than Parcus' lies were.”

Bob stopped, searching Elros' eyes to see if his friend understood.  Having been at Erech, Elros knew what his friend meant all too well.  In his silence, he tried to grasp what it must have been like for Bob, and for Halbarad and Anoriath as well, to have had to share Elanna's suffering in such depth.  

“So when Elanna remembered him, uh, let’s say, touching her face,” Elros inquired gently.  He wanted clarification but not at the expense of Bob’s sensibilities.  “You would feel a hand touching your face and it would feel to you as it did to her.”

“Aye,” Bob confirmed, pain shaded his voice and clouded his eyes.  

“That must have been terribly difficult for you,” Elros said with profound sympathy, “for all of you.”

Bob could not bear the compassion he found in Elros’ eyes and his head fell forward in attempt to hide his shame.

“I was a coward El,” he whispered miserably.  Bile rose in his throat, yet his heart begged to make this confession.  “The torment she lived through, the burden she carried these past months ...I could not even share it for more than a few moments.”  Bob’s whole being burned with humiliation, as if his dishonorable behavior was a brand on his brow that all could see.  “I fled from her memories into my own.  I strove to only remember times from when she was young.  I couldn't do it, Elros.” 

Elros clicked his tongue in dismay and rolled his back off the wall to reach out and shake his friend, but Bob stood abruptly and turned on his heel and, in the process, almost tripped over the crate on which he had been sitting.  He managed to stay on his feet long enough to grab a stall gate, barely preventing an ignominious fall to the floor.  The malevolent whisper he thought he had managed to thrust from his mind last night insinuated itself among his conscious thoughts once again.  Though he may close his eyes, sights and sounds snaked unbidden from their hiding places.  He had not eluded Elanna’s memories, he only temporarily hindered their attack and they refused to go unheard any longer.  His breathing ragged, Bob gripped the stall door until the bones of his knuckles would pierce his skin.

Worried by the tortured expression and harsh breathing from his friend, Elros prompted, “Bob?”

Bob gave no sign of hearing Elros, which served to cause him further alarm.

“What is it Bob?” he urged, leaning forward on the edge of the bench, debating whether he should go to his friend.  The tension flowed palpably from the distraught man and he feared startling his friend into a violent reaction.  He had almost decided to chance it when the dam burst with all the ferocity Elros had dreaded.  

“AAAAAAHHHHHHHH!” Bob bellowed as he tried to crush the stall door in his hands, shaking it.

It was not enough; Bob pulled back his arm and slammed his fist into the stall door.  Mithraug whirled about with bared teeth in reprimand but the repeated battering of fists against the door changed the stallion's mind.  Snorting his displeasure, Mithraug backed away, pawing and prancing while keeping a close eye on the mad human, the shock of whose blows shook the stall and quivered in the air.  

Bob’s pounding rage was interspersed with a single word.  “NO!” he cried repeatedly.

Elros stood, helplessly watching his friend, unable to banish memories of the day Halbarad finally allowed himself to realize what had happened to his sister in Nurn.  The same anger and pain had burned in Halbarad’s voice when he finally accepted the fact of his sister’s violation at Parcus’ hands.  As painful as it had been for Halbarad, Elros could only image Bob's distress.  Halbarad had had the comfort of the distance of time and having seen his sister recover some of the many small parts of herself that Parcus had destroyed.  Bob had seen his sister fresh from her torture and she had cringed in terror from him.  Elros swallowed hard at the memory.  It was not one he was likely to forget any time soon.  

Momentarily spent, Bob slid to his knees; his hands and forehead pressed to the stall door that had survived the pummeling it had received.  What the elves built, they built well.  

Breathing heavily he rasped, “He almost succeeded El, she was almost too late.”

Elros had to stop to digest what Bob meant.  The 'he' was a given, but deciphering the ‘she was almost too late’ took seconds longer.  That’s it.  Anoriath had said little about what she had found when she first breached Parcus' hut.  He must have been a hair’s breadth away from taking the girl.  Comprehension slammed into Elros and ripped his breath away.  Bob was remembering that moment in time not as a distant tale, but as Elanna would have remembered it.  For a split second, Elros thought he would be physically ill.

“Bob, I’m so sorry,” Elros said, taking a step toward the man, acutely aware of the inadequacy of his words.

Bob turned stiffly on his knees and sat with his back against the door.  There he sat for a moment, running his hands repeatedly through his hair.

“I didn’t want to believe she was getting worse El, I couldn’t stand the thought that I might lose her,” Bob stated wretchedly.  “She’s all I have and I just couldn’t ... Bob's voice trailed off.  He cleared his throat so that he could go on.  “I finally accepted it when I was out on the perimeter run the day you left for Emyn Arnen.  Elanna told me that morning in her room how afraid she was, but I didn’t want to hear it.”  Bob’s lips twisted down in a bitter smile, “Some big brother I am.  She tried to share her darkest fear with me and I failed her, when I had sworn never to do so again.”

Elros knelt in front of Bob and, placing his hand on the other man’s shoulder, he said, “There is not a one of us who is above reproach on that score my friend.  If we had been, then Elanna would have confided in the one she felt most confidant of.  She never spoke of it to me.”

Bob sighed and made a failed attempt at a smile.  “I know what you’re trying to do El and I thank you, but it doesn’t change what I did or should I say, didn’t do.”

Elros shook his head, he asked, trying another tack, “It hit you out on the run, from what you just told me, correct?  So what did you do when you got back.”

Bob looked at Elros uncomprehendingly, his hands finding rest at last.  “What did I do when I got back from what?”

“From the perimeter run,” Elros clarified patiently.

“I went and talked to Cel straight off,” Bob replied slowly with a puzzled stare.  “I begged him to help her again, the way he did back in Nurn.”

“And did he?” Elros prompted quietly, knowing full well what the answer was.

“Yes, he did, I told you about the healing rite,” Bob replied, confused, until comprehension dawned on his face.  “Oh, I see.”  Bob paused before he continued pensively, “He did help her, him and Belegalda.  You saw the proof of that already.  I know I should be thankful for that, and I am, believe me.  It’s just.  .  .”

“That you are only now accepting what everyone else has known,” Elros finished for him, sitting back on his heels.

“And what kind of fool does that make me?” Bob snorted regretfully.

“The same as Halbarad, a fool who loves his sister beyond all reason,” Elros said gently and shrugged.  “You have done nothing that Hal has not done in your place, that I could well have done had I a sister.”

“Thank you El, I had forgotten about that.”  Bob allowed himself a small, wry smile, a glimmer of sun through the dark clouds.  “I guess I’m lucky that Hal has not chosen to be as critical of my behavior as I had been of his.”

Elros stood and held his hand out to Bob.  “Probably because he cannot condemn you without condemning himself.”

Bob accepted the hand and allowed it to pull him up.  “Then I owe him an apology now more than ever.”  Bob turned to Mithraug who was still eyeing him warily.  “Sorry if I startled you old boy, I’ll raid Meri’s apples for you.  You deserve it for not taking a chunk out of me when you had the chance.”

Elros laughed as he led Bob back to the bench.  “Now that is something Hal will not believe, not in a thousand ages.”

Bob tossed Elros his bedroll while he picked up the man’s saddlebags.  Sharing the burden as friends do for one another, they made their way through the barn door.

With a broad smile as bright as the noonday sun, Bob asked, “Remember the first time she tried to draw my bow?”

Elros grinned at the memory; he had been a privileged spectator to the event.  Luckily for Elanna, only he, Bob and Anardil were witness to her folly.  She had been scarcely taller than the bow she was attempting to draw.  She had been determined to prove to them that she could, but nervousness had made her palms slippery with sweat and she had unintentionally released her grip on the bow instead of the nocked arrow.  If he remembered correctly, Elanna sported her black eye for over a week.  She was lucky she had turned her head at the last second or she probably would have broken her nose in the bargain.  

“Aye, I remember,” Elros chuckled.  “I seem to remember that she tried to blame you for that also.”

Bob laughed aloud and almost dislodging the saddlebags he carried with the quaking of his shoulders.  “I know, it was my bow so it had to be my fault.”  Bob shook his head.  “Our father did not agree with her when she tried to argue that point.”

“No he didn’t, did he?” Elros agreed.  “And if I remember rightly, her mother, Elena had not one whit more sympathy for her than Mateon did.”

Bob halted near the steps of the porch.  Elros stopped with him.

“That was the last time she cried over getting hurt…” Bob paused and spread his hands outwards.  “Until all of this.”

Elros rightly assumed that ‘all of this’ meant more than just what had occurred yesterday or even since their return from Nurn.  There had been a tear or two shed during the summer, after he and Halbarad arrived.

“Aye, but think on this my friend,” Elros advised.  “That day with the bow Elanna wept as a child.  Any tears she has shed here,” Elros gestured towards the inn.  “Have been shed in the process of becoming a woman.  Elanna has grown up in these past months.”

“Aye, she has,” Bob smiled ruefully.  “I just wish it hadn’t been as hard as it was for her.”

“Bob, we all wish that, for ourselves and those we love,” Elros told him, thinking of his own mother.  “But it is the fire that tempers the steel and makes it stronger and harder.”  He clapped Bob on the shoulder.  “Do not worry, all she has endured will make her stronger, I doubt very much that it will do anything to harden her heart.”

Bob let out a gusty sigh.  “You’re right El, she will be well now.  It’s time to look forward instead of back.”

One last clap on the back and Elros urged lightly, “Good, I am looking forward to whatever it was Erin said Meri baked special, not to mention lunch.  Care to join me?”

“Turn down hobbit cooking?  Not on your life!” Bob exclaimed and swept his arm to the steps.  “After you.”

Chapter Two

Later that evening

It was deemed an unusual event when, over dinner, green clouds hovered on the horizon and blocked out the early setting of the wintering sun.  And when the trunks of trees with their branches denuded of autumn leaves glowed silver against the clouds that roiled across the sky, it was deemed an eerie one.  The sun seeped out from behind the strangely hued clouds to emit a sullen glow that lent little comfort.  The Burping Troll was no stranger to the quick moving storms that could wash over the countryside like a series of tidal waves, but so late in the season?  But, it wasn't until Mithraug showed up at the Troll's front porch and snuffled his great nose against the glass windows that it was deemed an unlucky one. 

Great clopping hooves echoed on the wooden floor as the gray stallion wedged his bulk between tables and chairs to stare into the common room.  Bob was the first to notice the shadow as he was attempting to thread a needle in the fading afternoon sun.  Frustrated, he glanced over his shoulder to find a better light and then snapped his head on his neck, at first unable to fully comprehend what was before his eyes.  When the horse huffed against the glass, Bob leapt from his chair only to become entangled in the table's legs and plummet back into his seat and stare at the wide brown eye within inches of his.  Anoriath, startled by her tablemate's clumsy fall to his chair, pressed the needle in her fingers through her ripped tunic in a large unwieldy stitch.  She peered through the window, scowling.  

Anoriath snorted and turned to her brother behind her.  His chin in his fist, Halbarad was glowering darkly at the colored bits of glass laid out between him and Elanna and absently tapping the tabletop with a multisided ivory die.  Elanna beamed back at him smugly.

"Hal," Anoriath called.  "It seems someone is looking for you."

"What?" Halbarad replied distantly, his thoughts and eyes still absorbed in the game before him.  However had he allowed himself to be placed in this position?  First Pelargir to the South, then Osgiliath and Emyn Arnen, finally Minas Tirith and Henneth Annun to the west and north had been steadily sacked by the enemy from the far reaches of Harad, and now the Corsairs were sailing upstream unchallenged on the broad back of the Anduin to threaten Rohan.  Elanna smiled at him sweetly and took a delicate sip of tea while Halbarad scraped at his brow with his fingernails.  He was down to irregulars and a ragtag band of guards from the defeated White City.  Halbarad sighed.  The chieftains of Harad lunched on finely textured, white cake between sips of a crisp, pale wine in the marble halls below the Tower of Ecthelion.  Well, he'd just have to leave them to their repast at the moment.  He had to find some way to cut off the attack from the banks of the Anduin before the golden halls of Meduseld were overrun too.

"Halbarad!" Anoriath called sharply when his horse snorted against the glass, leaving a large blossom of mist clinging to the window below his nostril.

Halbarad's head jerked up from his fist.  "What?" he demanded, irritated, and stared at his sister.  He followed the jerk of her head to glare out the window.

"Sweet Eru!" Halbarad exclaimed in surprise and sat up straight, the game forgotten.  "How did he get out there?"

Elanna frowned and set down her mug.  "Wasn't he out in the pasture?" she asked.

Surely he had been, just as surely he was now upon the front porch, firmly wedged between chairs and tables and blinking his large eye at his rider.  As much as the mount was a menace to anyone within the reach of his strong teeth, he created problems when not around people as well.  The stallion had a bad habit of leaning against fences until the rails' tongues popped from their slots.  They'd not had enough nails to properly secure each rail in the two miles of fence.  They'd spread out what they had had available as best they could, but somehow Mithraug found the nail-less sections with little trouble.  The beast was sly too, always waiting until he was not being watched.  And if, by chance, should anyone happen upon him in the act, he sauntered away from the spot nonchalantly for a few yards before picking up his feet and cantering off, studiously avoiding eye contact until well away.  

"Sweet Elbereth," Halbarad swore softly under his breath.  If one horse had escaped that meant that others were likely to have followed.  He stood up reluctantly and dropped the die to the table.  No doubt the storm was moving in fast and they'd have to work quickly to round up the strays and secure them before it hit.  

"Very well!" he commanded.  "Let's get to it."

When Elanna raised her brow over a smirk that clearly teased him about his desire to avoid defeat, Halbarad tapped the tabletop sharply.  

"We'll finish this later," he insisted with a keen light shining from his eye and strode quickly out the front door, grabbing up his cloak from where it hung on a peg on his way out.  He called back to Elanna over his shoulder as the Rangers, under the curious watchful eyes of a few chance guests who had ridden in before the wings of the storm, set down their tasks and rose to their feet to follow him.  

"Find Elros, would you, Elanna?" Halbarad called.  "He should be upstairs going over some letters.  Oh, and let Erin and Meri know where we are.  They should still be in the kitchen."  

Elanna nodded and slipped through the door by the kitchen to spring up the stairs in search of Elros.  Elros had spent a few days in the Prince's city at a Rangers' tournament and returned with several new bruises, a new sheath of embossed leather and silver, and a lighter step.  When he walked in with Bob during lunch, he clasped his captain's hand and greeted him with quiet, teasing smile that put his friend's concerns at rest.  After dinner, he left their company to read the letters and reports that he had missed in his absence.    

The remaining two Rangers followed their captain to the porch, finding him standing just outside the door and slapping the massive hindquarters that blocked their way.  

"You great lumbering beast," Halbarad scolded affectionately as the stallion delicately minced his bulk backward out of the tangle of chairs and table and down the stairs.  "What are you doing out here?"  

Bob snorted from the door.  "He's doing what he's always done since he claimed you on the field of the Pelennor.  He's got you just where he wants you."

Halbarad ignored Bob and observed, "I should probably put him in a stall.  He'll be more of a nuisance while we're searching for the break in the fence.  A pity, since he's the only one who knows where it is."  

They followed the stallion as he backed off the porch.  

"And you wonder why no one can handle him," Anoriath observed dryly as she glanced at the darkening sky and thinking that, with the distant flashes of light on the horizon, the stable was likely the animal's goal to begin with. 

Without comment, Halbarad snaked a hand beneath the stallion's chin and, thumping him soundly on his neck, urged the willing mount around the front of the inn to the stable entrance.  Shaking her head and tying her cloak firmly under chin, Anoriath followed her brother and Bob to the stables.  Trees stood dark silent sentinel against the pale wash of sky.  Once in the barn, they grabbed up ropes and oil lanterns while Halbarad revised his thoughts and saddled Mithraug.  They were just coming back out the front door when Elanna and Elros trotted across the lawn.  

Bob grinned at Elros as they closed the gap.  "Mithraug's been at it again," he called to the Ranger's tolerantly sour look.

Elros shook his head as he and Elanna took the offered ropes.  "We have got to get more nails.  I didn't spend the latter half of this summer building that fence only to have that cantankerous animal push it down rail by rail."  

Anoriath snorted.  "Perhaps we should take the cost out of Halbarad's pay."  

"Surely it's a matter of duty-" Elros scratched his bearded chin and trailed off with a small lopsided grin.  

Elanna smothered her grin with a cough when the barn door swung open.  The small group greeted Halbarad with the decorum deserving of a captain's return.  

"What?" Halbarad demanded, peering from one face to the next and then shook his head wearily.  Apparently, nary a one of them had completely matured.

Turning his back on them, the Ranger captain threw himself atop his mount and nodded abruptly to the corral behind them.  

"Just for that," he said.  "I'll start riding along the fence to the northeast and take the long way around.  You," and here he glared at his compatriots, "can walk the opposite, on foot."  Halbarad gestured for Bob's lantern.  Taking it up, he continued, "I'll signal if I see anything looking like a horse or a busted rail."  He glanced up at the sky and then flashed a grin at them before turning Mithraug's nose about.  "Hope it doesn't start raining.  Have a nice walk."  He kicked the mount's flanks and they were gone.

Elros shook his head wryly after his friend and then gestured magnanimously for his fellow Rangers to precede him with the remaining lantern along the southwestern edge of the pasture.

It didn't take long to find the broken rail.  Within twenty minutes they came upon Dream hovering anxiously at the busted opening, shaking her black mane and pawing at the ground.  The white blaze on her forehead stood out brightly against the bay's mahogany coat marking her for Sevilodorf's carthorse.  While the three other Rangers examined the fence, Elanna shooed the mare deeper into the pasture.  

A post leaned away from the rails at a drunken angle.  A long section of wood lay on the ground, bent in the middle and exhibiting subtle signs of cracks along its far side, having busted unevenly against Mithraug's pressure.  Crouched above the rail, Elros ran his fingers through his hair and scratched the back of his scalp, gazing ruefully at the damage while Bob shook the post already loose in its mooring.  Anoriath glanced up at the dark ceiling of clouds.  Lightning zagged across the low, moving sky.  They'd be lucky to finish up before getting caught in the impending downpour.  Anoriath lowered her eyes to the line of fence as it disappeared under the branches of the surrounding wood and shook her head in exasperation.  She remembered how long it took to build this fence, being well acquainted with every inch of wood in its nearly two miles of circumference.  

Well, its repair would have to wait.  When Elanna rejoined them, the Rangers set about tracking the loose horses.  It would have been a challenge for even a ranger's skill in the little glow that lingered behind the forest; but luckily, the week had seen a series of showers that dampened the earth.  Halbarad, alerted by their signal, galloped the remaining fence between them and, sliding from Mithraug's back added his lantern to theirs.  

As far as they could tell, only one other horse had followed the gray stallion's lead and wandered into the forest through the broken fence.  They found the black gelding in a shallow gully, at the bottom of which wound the small stream that watered the pasture.  Black coat remained hidden against black shadows but the snap of twigs beneath his hooves and the reflection of lamplight in his eyes and off his glossy coat betrayed him to Elanna's half-elven senses.  They found him with his rump turned to the gusts of rising wind and his ears twitching at their approach.  

Looping a rope about his neck, they led him back to the pasture despite his reluctance to head into the wind.  There, they split up, Bob, Elanna and Halbarad crisscrossing the field counting horses just to make sure, leaving Elros and Anoriath to repair the fence as best they were able.  

They made it through resetting the rail in its grooves and winding ropes between the weakened post and its neighbors before the rain started.  Anoriath leaned into the post while Elros pulled his rope tightly through its noose.  Wind blew smatterings of light rain about while thunder rolled across the tops of the trees.  

"Got it?" she called, the wind whipping the edge of her cloak against her ankles.

"Aye!" Elros answered and screwed up his face against a gust of wet wind.  "Give me a hand."

Anoriath trotted over to hold the rope taut while he lashed the end to the post.  A crack of light split the sky and they froze a moment to glance up at the clouds.  

Elros' teeth shone white against the darkened woods in a brief grin.  "We should probably hurry," he said.  

"Do we really have to secure the post to a second one?" Anoriath asked as she hunched her shoulders against the thunder that echoed in the trees.  

"Do you want to come back out here later?"

Anoriath grimaced her answer and they strode quickly over to the next set of rails and repeated the procedure of lashing the weak post to its stronger neighbor.  A three-beated rhythm of light snaked across the sky just above them as Elros tied the last knot.  They heard the rain just before it reached them, pounding against the tops of the trees.  

Anoriath let out a long disgusted "Aaaaah!" as she flung her hood over her head, drawing a short laugh from Elros. 

He clasped her elbow and shouted, "Come on!  Hurry!" and, grabbing up the lantern, urged her beneath a broad maple that spread its thick limbs above them.

It did little good.  The wind whistled through the branches and flung water upon their heads.  The rain fell in steady sheets across them in the pasture, drenching grass, trees, horses and men.  They watched as the downpour marched across the field toward them and shook their heads in weary resignation.  Unexpected thunder shook the tree and they jumped beneath it, startled.  The leading edge of the cloudburst reached them, cutting off their view of the tree boles and fence and dousing the lantern.  
 
Water pouring down her neck and sopping from the edge of the cloak tightly wrapped about her, Anoriath shouted, "This is ridiculous, Elros!" 

Her head jerked up at a flash of light above them.  Elros winced and joined her in staring up into the wildly swaying branches of the tree.  Without leaves, it was doing little to shelter them and much to draw lightening their way.  The heavens broke into flashes of light and Elros nearly lost his footing and fell to the ground, dizzy with that one moment's glimpse of sheets of rain careening down from the sky.  Anoriath gave him a small shake and he looked at her, his brain still whirling.  Light flashed behind her.

"We should make a run for it, Elros!" she raised her voice.  "It's too dangerous to be out here."

He picked up the darkened lantern and nodded his readiness.  They darted out from under the tree and jogged across the forest floor, keeping close to the fence as their guide.  Unable to run full out for the weight at her midsection, Anoriath wrapped an arm about her waist to support her belly.  Elros kept just behind the ranger, keeping her in reach.  He mistrusted her balance as much as she.  Weaving about trees and leaping over the roots they trotted, splashing in muddy puddles and throwing up thick clots of dirt behind their heels.  Their hoods had long since fallen to their shoulders and they bent their heads against the lashing rain.  

Within sight of the barn, Anoriath's foot came down in a puddle of mud and wet leaves and slipped from beneath her.  'The child!'  The thought flashed brilliantly red through Elros' head.  He dropped the lantern, grabbed her arm and a great handful of her cloth from her waist and they skidded to a wet halt.  Elros held her tightly against his chest as she found her footing and stood up on her own.  Her heart pounding, Anoriath turned to thank Elros but then froze.  He wasn't sure what she caught on his face, but he was sure she didn't like it.  Had she caught his dismay at his response to how closely she pressed to him and how fearful he was of what he might do if she remained there?  

She pulled sharply away from him and marched to the stable and flung open the door.  Sighing, Elros picked up the lantern and followed behind her, head bowed against the rain.  This was not going to be pretty but he might as well face it now while he had some chance of doing so in private.  

Anoriath was wringing water from her hair and ruffling the curls from her scalp when he entered, her back to the door.  Making his way quietly down the aisle, Elros set the lantern atop the workbench at the back.  Hoofed feet randomly shuffled in the dark.  Elros lifted the glass hurricane and, taking a striker to steel, lit the tinder in its tin box.  Taking a long thin piece of wood he put it to the tinder and blew gently.  Once lit, he used the small flame to dry out the wet wick and relight the lamp.  He smothered the tinder with the lid and firmly fixed the hurricane in place.  It was then that he noticed that the rain had stopped.  Elros let out a wry snort.  Thunder rolled in the distance.  If they had just waited a few minutes all of this could have been avoided.

He turned back into the aisle and found a hook for the lamp.  Its rays seemed dim, as if they couldn't penetrate the heavy, humid air.  Wind whistled through the cracks between the barn boards and rattled against the loose windowpanes.  Anoriath looked up briefly from wringing out the edge of her wool cloak.  Water splashed against the floor and ran through the straw.

Elros stepped toward her and lifted a hand in supplication.  Better to apologize quickly and end the topic there.  No telling what might be revealed if they were to discuss the incident in any depth.

"I'm sorry," he began but Anoriath cut him off curtly.  Elros abruptly stopped in place.  

"Enough, Elros!" she demand.  "This has gone on long enough, don't you think?"  

"What has?" he asked, dismayed, as she stood and stepped within a few paces of him.

"What has?" Anoriath echoed and frowned.  Faint lights flickered beyond the stable walls and the sky growled.  "Elros, ever since you ran across me by the river, you avoid me and stammer when we talk.  It's as if you've been afraid to touch or be near me."

A boom echoed distantly.  Elros ran fingers through his hair and scrubbed at his scalp, staring at the floor, worried.  She'd read more of his mind than he had known.  Thunder rumbled overhead and the wind swept water from the trees to spatter against the roof.  

When he remained silent, Anoriath continued, raising her voice above the wind that swirled outside.  "Can you deny it?" she demanded.

He shook his head silently.  How much more of his thoughts did she know or guess?  

Anoriath threw up her hands and slapped them against her thighs in exasperation at his silence.  Her shadow flickered and shrank and a roaring report shot across the clouds overhead.  

"What is going on?" Anoriath asked over the restless rustling of straw in the stalls that lined either side.  She looked up to the rafters as if she would find her answer there and raised her hands in an irate plea.  "Elros, for pity's sake, this has got to stop!  Why are you doing this?"

Elros shuffled his feet and crossed and then uncrossed his arms, as nervous and dumb as the animals that lined the stable.  How could he possibly explain?

Anoriath swallowed hard and said what she was both afraid and convinced was the underlying cause of his discomfort.  He'd never wish to hurt her feelings and if it needed to be said to clear the air between them, it seemed that it would have to be her that did the saying.  

"Elros," she said.  "I have no intention of embarrassing you by presuming upon our friendship.  I'm well aware that I'm not the kind of woman that men find attractive."

"No!" he protested, surprising himself with his vehemence.  

"Then what?  Why can't you stand to be near me?" she demanded.

Elros paced the short distance across the aisle, a hand gripping the hair at the nape of his neck tightly.  'No, no, no!'  He had promised himself that he wouldn't do this.  He wouldn't say anything until he had a better idea of just what her response would be.  AH!  He couldn't stand this anymore.

A burst of blinding blue light blazed through the windows of the barn, sending grotesque shadows chasing briefly across the rafters and into the stalls.  As one, they winced and glanced at the walls only to be smothered in darkness again.  Soft snorts drifted from the stalls.  Anoriath blinked at Elros, clearing her eyes of the crimson ghosts left by the lightening.  His ghastly image stared at her from behind her eyelids, rivulets of water winding their way about his neck and collecting in the collar of his cloak.  Adjusting to the darkness again, he gathered a sharp breath.  He had no idea what words would come out his mouth, only that he was driven to speak by a compulsion to once and for all rid himself of the confusion of emotions that had only recently achieved a name. 

Drawing a deep breath again, Elros moved a step closer, opened his mouth and shouted, "Because, Anoriath, I –"

Anoriath winced and her hands flew of themselves to her ears.  Elros' lips continued to move but his words were lost in a mighty crash of thunder that ripped through the heavens, hunting after its heralding flash of light.  Startled, Anoriath cowered in place and scanned the walls of the stable.  In the following silence, Elros expelled a loud groan and glared out into the night in frustrated rage, his hands clapped to the sides of his head and fingers twisted in his damp hair.  Short flashes of light erupted behind the windows.  Great dark trees stretched their limbs and dragged their shadows across the panes of glass.

"What?" she yelled, raising her voice against the rumbling echoes that rolled through the silence between them.  

Elros let out a sharp frustrated sigh and dropped his hands.  It had taken every bit of courage he'd had to acknowledge aloud the torment of his heart.  The words he had spoken into the thieving thunder had formed themselves on his tongue by their own accord, their meaning educated by long hours of solitary travel and a surprising inability to act.  His feelings for this blade tall woman who stared at him in the dim light had confused and plagued him.  They seemed to come out of nowhere and contradict the years they had spent as no more than distant friends, their closest tie being the trust of one soldier for another on the field of battle and their shared affection for a captain of Rangers.  Elros had settled on explanations of exhaustion and being deprived of a woman's touch for far too long only to find that, in his stay in Emyn Arnen, this was untrue.  

He had hoped to join the archers in their competition to expiate the memory of his long-ago defeat at the hands of Anoriath's deception.  But, once he arrived at the tournament in Emyn Arnen, he had been pressed to replace a reluctant participant.  He ended up facing a grinning crowd that parted to reveal a great, bald-headed brute of man.  Elros had exhaled a great gust of wry surprise at the sight and felt a sudden rush of sympathy for the opponent who had failed to show.  This was the Ranger against whom he had been paired in unarmed combat.  

And yet, the weeks of sparring with Anoriath had ultimately served him well.  Wearying repetition of moves against a heavier and stronger opponent with a longer reach had engraved themselves in his brain and limbs.  Though soundly beaten, Elros was happy to be awarded the second place trophy with a minimum of bruises as its price.  His opponent had surprised him at the end of their match with a growling laugh and a great bear hug that lifted the smaller ranger off his feet.  Breyon was his name and, being the local champion, he hadn't been so challenged in years.  

At the close of the afternoon's ceremonies, the imposing ranger dragged his new friend through every barrack and pub in the Prince's ancestral home, showing off his delight in a newly snaggle-toothed grin and the quiet bearded man who had gifted it to him.  Everywhere there was wine and ale to be drunk, new faces to be given names, and questions about the mysterious tales that surrounded The Burping Troll.  That the voice that confirmed these tales did so in such an unassuming manner and was owned by a man who had just stood his ground against a local with legends behind his own name only gave the stories added weight.  

They ended the evening in the common room of a pub with a name that Elros couldn't remember and only vaguely heard when he first entered.  Striding through the door with Elros in tow, Breyon shouted a general greeting and the crowded bar exploded into raised voices and mugs.  It was a relief to sit with his chair leaned precariously back against the wall and take slow sips from an ale he'd earned from the third and hopefully final retelling of the storming of the raiders' den in far Nurn.  Breyon had long since disappeared into the crowd and Elros closed his eyes and drifted on the swirl of smoke and voices and the swell of wine that had been pressed on him during the second telling of the story.  The vintage had a light taste that belied the surprising wallop that followed.   

Lightheaded with wine Elros couldn't discern the words being whispered in his ear, but upon opening his eyes he divined their intent.  Long red curls lay loose about her shoulders as she leaned over him.  He stared at them as they swayed over his lap.  To his relief, though pretty enough in their own right, the eyes that caught his were a warm brown in a sea of freckles, not the sad green of the woman he had known in Henneth Annun.  Her long auburn locks and gentleness of expression made him smile, and yet he couldn't unleash his tongue from its tether to answer the question put to him.  

Her voice ringing low in his ear, Elros had caught up her hand and gently kissed her knuckles.  He smiled gently at her disappointment only to rise from the table.  Trusting in the hope that few pickpockets plied their trade in a city full to bursting with Rangers, he quietly wandered the stone streets of the city until his head cleared.  It was then that he came to understand for certain that it wasn't his purse, it was his heart that was in danger.

In the morning, he found Breyon in the Ranger's barracks with the intention of taking his leave of the man.  Elros passed off the man's jovial questions regarding his disappearance only to discover that it had been Breyon who had sent the redheaded woman to his table.  Elros' embarrassed muttering earned him a hearty slap on the shoulder that knocked him near off his feet.  He could only wish that he could find as much humor in the situation as the great man seemed to feel upon learning that thoughts of a woman a two days journey away had turned aside her attentions.  Given how low the likelihood of Anoriath returning his regard was, the reflections on the long road into the north of Ithilien taught Elros just how seriously he was in trouble.  

Despite all his intentions of biding his time and protecting his heart as he watched and assessed her mood, Elros had just laid out his heart to a confused and exasperated Anoriath.  And she'd not heard one word of it.  Now that he'd opened his mouth, he was committed to giving his feelings expression but had not yet found relief in having them understood, whether for good or ill effect.  

Gritting his teeth, Elros gathered his breath again, only to expel it shortly in exasperation when he was interrupted by a sharp, rolling clap of thunder.  Lightening flashed briefly behind the windows, bringing them into sharp relief against the walls of the barn.  

As its afterimages faded, Elros drew a quick breath and raised his voice to overpower the next anticipated series of thunderclaps, determined to not have to repeat this again.  

He shouted, "I love you!" into the unexpected, shocking silence.  His voice sounded coarse and strained, much louder than the amazingly docile rumble that followed.

Elros groaned and raised his fists to his temples.  He wanted nothing more than to beat his head against the solid wooden supports that rose from the straw strewn floor at their feet.

Anoriath stared at him, frozen in place.  Elros dropped his hands to let them hang helplessly against his side, his face perfectly miserable.  

"You what?" she whispered, stunned, against the grumbling air.  Light ruptured the shadows.

His voice swallowed by the following thunder, Elros mouthed soundlessly, "I love you."

With that, the heavens broke open.  But the sudden crash of raindrops pelting the roof of the shelter and the wet ground about it went unnoticed.  Anoriath stared blankly at Elros as he silently waited for her to complete his humiliation.  Now that he'd given his regard its voice, he could only hope she'd be merciful in her rejection.  Rain poured from the clouds to plunge in streams about the small wooden cave of the barn, cutting them off from the rest of the world with its silver glistening curtain.  

Blinking and staring at Elros, Anoriath took a step toward him, and then two.  Then suddenly, in a rush, Elros found his breath cut short by limbs that wrapped about him and warm lips that pressed urgently to his.  Wool prickled wetly beneath his fingers as, flooded with warm disbelieving relief, Elros grabbed Anoriath up, burying his hands in the sodden cloak that clung to her back.  He pressed her to him as he returned her kiss, capturing her lips in his own.  Soaked clothing hung damply on them, chafing their skin.  The tips of their noses were cold against the other's cheek.  Tiny streams wound their way down into deep hidden pools in their boots, but he cared not.  All he could feel was the warmth of her touch as she pulled at his lips with hers and held him wrapped firmly in her arms.  

Elros pulled her in tightly against him as he blindly searched Anoriath's face with quick, hot kisses, desperate, somehow, to demonstrate his relief and gratitude that she returned his regard.  His lips landed haphazardly on cheek and eyebrow and nose.  He cared not what he kissed, just so long as it was hers.  When he felt her fingers steal about the back of his neck and twine themselves in his hair, Elros knew himself lost forever.   

"Ah," she sighed against his cheek, "Aglaran."

Elros' lips froze against her jaw and Anoriath stiffened in his arms, her eyes flung open in dismay.  Her hands slipped from his hair and slowly tightened at his shoulders, the cloth balling in her fists.

Elros' head jerked back to stare vacantly at her.  "What?" he whispered hoarsely.

Anoriath returned his stare, her wide eyes horrified.  She blinked and abruptly pushed against his shoulders, breaking through the circle of his arms.  Elros, shocked, stumbled back a step.  Before his thoughts cleared, Anoriath had fled.  He blinked; his feet refused to move as if, while they had kissed, he had grown roots, a silent and slow-moving tree quietly growing in the aisle between the horse stalls.  Elros stood there a moment, dumbfounded, the distant rumble of thunder rolling against the glass panes and faint lights surging across the clouds.  Gradually, the rain eased to brief windblown spatters as the wind relieved the laden trees of their wet burden.  An unsteady rhythm drummed from the eaves of the barn as water rolled off the roof.  Elros took a deep breath, returning to life again.  The sky grumbled in low fading groans.

She'd not gone far.  Elros found Anoriath seated on the bench at the front of the stable, leaning over her knees with her cheeks buried in her fists and her eyes on the stable floor.  He could not see her face, but the dejected curve of her spine spoke for her.  Anoriath stiffened a little when he settled to the bench beside her and leaned back, staring up at the rafters.  Elros waited, though he wasn't sure what for.  He couldn't imagine what it was that she could say.  Wretched enough already, he wasn't sure what it was he wanted to hear.  

Anoriath dropped her hands to hang them limply between her knees.  She kicked at a lump of straw with her toe, grimacing.

Glancing up at him briefly before returning to stare at the ground, she spoke softly, "I'm sorry, Elros."

Elros shook his head mutely, rocking the back of his skull where it leaned against the barn boards.  In all his confusion and preoccupation with thwarted desire, he'd neglected to consider the depths of her feelings for the friend that she had lost in Nurn.  What a great, bumbling idiot he was where his heart was concerned.  He never failed but to miss something important.  

Elros attempted to reassure her but found that he had to clear his throat as if he hadn't spoken in days.  "It's of no matter, Anoriath," he finally said to her back, hoping that he could convince himself that it was so before she looked in his face.

She sat up straight and caught him before he had a chance to bring his features in line with his words.  Anoriath's eyes scanned him for a moment.

"No, it's not," she retorted with a bit more heat than she'd intended.  She sighed and turned away, her voice softening though she spoke with as much fervor as before.  "Elros, you're a good man.  You didn't deserve that.  I'm sorry," she said after a pause.  "I should have realized that my heart is not ready."  She stared at her hands.  

Elros hesitated and then spoke softly.  Whether he was reluctant to bring her more pain by reminding Anoriath of what she'd lost or to bring himself pain by acknowledging that her heart was still someone else's, he wasn't sure.  "I suppose I underestimated the depth of your feelings for him," he stated and a slight humorless smile softened his features.  

Anoriath leaned back to join him in resting against the wall and rolled the back of her head against the wood to watch his face in the dim light.  Catching his eye, she tapped the edge of her fist against his knee.  

"I have to give you this, Elros," she continued.  "You certainly have more courage than I ever did.  I wasn't able to bring myself to reveal my heart until the very end."  

Elros burst into a brief laugh but then sobered immediately.  "I'm not so sure it was courage that prompted my confession."  

Anoriath released a short exasperated breath and turned to face him more fully.  Scanning his features, she was sure of his mortification.  Though she may try to soften the blow, the truth was that he had revealed the depths of his heart and she could not return his regard.  Her heart ached for him.  This was anything but what she wanted.  During her preparation to return to face the raider that had attacked her in Nurn, Anoriath had come to appreciate Elros in a way she had not before.  He'd been insistent when she needed a firm hand, humorous when she needed a distraction, and warm when she felt lost, all without pitying her or pressing his empathic distress on her when neither emotion was something she could tolerate.  

On impulse, Anoriath drew her knee up to the bench and, leaning across him, gently pressed her lips to his.  Elros' hand flew up but he paused before touching her.  He wanted to protest, to push her away, but the slow tenderness of her lips against his swelled in his heart and he found that he could only close his eyes and allow the kiss.  When she withdrew, Elros' hand settled on the curls above her ear, and he plucked at them gently.  His eyes searched her face, wondering.

"I'm not sure I can go back to just being your friend and comrade at arms, Anoriath," he warned after a moment.

"I know."  Her voice picked up speed and emphasis.  "Elros, I'm sorry, but I don't know if what I feel is longing for you, or for relief from yearning for Aglaran."  She caught his hand, spreading his fingers open from his palm and pressing a quick kiss into the inside of his knuckles.  "If my heart is to be yours, you deserve it in whole, not in bits and pieces that yearn for someone else." 

"I need time, Elros.  Time to grieve," she continued, letting his hand fall to his lap.  When his eyes twinkled in the dim light, Anoriath shook her head, amused.  That little-half smile on his face betrayed his intent as surely as if he had spoken aloud.  To Elros' wry amusement, she clucked her tongue and shook her head warningly at him.  "I'm not one of your broken-winged doves.  If, after a while, we do end up as lovers, it will not be because you've nursed me back to health."  She turned away.  "The time will mean very little if you continue to press your suit," she warned and pushed herself off the edge of the bench.  

"Very well," Elros replied to her back.  "I'll give you the space you need, on one condition," he added as she rose from their shared seat.  A profound weariness weighted his shoulders.  He suddenly had enough of holding a woman's grief in careful hands only to have her slip from his grasp and leave only her sadness behind.  

Anoriath twisted about on her feet and eyed him guardedly.  Elros was not about to be held helpless, caught in a bind of sympathy for her grief but restricted by the possibility of his comfort being misinterpreted.  

"If I am not to press my attentions on you, you cannot look to me to soothe your bereavement.  I'm not sure I could honor your request if you come to me burdened with your sadness."  Elros' back came up off the wall and he locked eyes with her.  

After a moment, Anoriath nodded silently, breaking their gaze as she turned to leave.  Aye, though she may regret the lack of his support that was the price to be paid.  Fair enough.

Elros settled back against the wood, watching the barn door snap shut behind Anoriath.  Let her go.  If all she needed was time, that he had to give.  He could wait.  In the meantime, though he'd not attempt to heal her, she wasn't about to shake him off.  She may be unsure as to her heart, but he was not.  That second kiss had spoken of a warmth that surpassed anything that friendship would allow.  He need only assure that she not forget it.  

Chapter Three

Late November 1421 SR

In the few short weeks since the healing, Halbarad had renewed his efforts at courting Elanna, which, for the first time, were well received.  And court her he did, with a zeal born of a love nearly lost.  It had become common for her to find small offerings left on her pillow every few days.  Elanna found herself watching the Ranger captain closely, but was never able to discover just when he was sneaking into the room she shared with Sevilodorf.  The mystery of not knowing on which days she would find her little treasures only increased her enjoyment, as did her thoughts as to how her roommate was likely to react if the Rohirrim spied him there.  

Her treasure trove ran the gamut from candied fruits in an embossed tin and silver pins enameled with fantastic creatures in bright reds, brilliant blues and dark greens for her hair, to a small spray of late fall flowers.  But the most precious of all to her was a simple glass bottle filled with large, opaque-white, scented crystals.  Startled by the scent, Elanna hoarded her jasmine bath salts as if they were dragon’s gold, only allowing herself an occasional nostalgic sniff every now and then.  Saving them was her promise to herself that she would rediscover her love for Halbarad again and have her wedding day.   

Humming to herself, Elanna took one last sniff for good luck before putting the vial away.  Thus fortified, she pounded down the stairs, taking them two at a time.  She was running late.  Halbarad was waiting for her at the stable with both horses saddled and ready, if he kept his promise.  As duty bound in love as he was in war, there was no doubt that he had kept his word and was already awaiting her.  Elanna jumped from the porch to the ground, taking the short fall of the front steps in one leap.  But, as soon as her feet hit the earth she stopped, suddenly nervous.  Though Halbarad himself had done nothing to pressure her, Elanna still could not stop herself from feeling a burden that seemed to grow with each small gift Halbarad left for her.  Would this be the day when she found her love for him again?

'Stop that!' she scolded herself sternly.  Her feelings for the handsome Ranger weren't a missing cloak.  They were ever elusive, unresponsive to conscious effort.  The harder you searched for them, the less likely you were to discover where they were hidden.  The only thing she needed to concentrate on was enjoying Halbarad’s company and the sheer pleasure she could count on finding upon Dusul’s back.  Her worries back in hand, Elanna hurried to the stable where indeed Halbarad waited with both horses.

“Hello, my boys,” Elanna greeted both horses cheerfully and held out the treats she had brought.  

Halbarad shook his head and snorted lightly.  “So that’s why he behaves himself around you!” Halbarad exclaimed ruefully.  “I should have known.”

Halbarad’s stallion, Mithraug, was well known for his temperament and his loyalty to his master, both of which tended toward the extreme.  On the surface, the mount may have impressed with the bearing of a high-necked, bright-eyed, steel gray stallion but beneath it all lay a personality of which only a jenny would be proud.   The self-important horse rarely allowed another to come near him, much less handle him.  Attempts to sweeten the deal with treats were only ignored and the horse was free with expressing his displeasure with either skin-bruising bites of his teeth or stubbornly recalcitrant behavior.  Halbarad had never seen him respond to anyone the way he was to Elanna.  He was nudging her in acknowledgement of the sweet or hinting for more.  It didn’t really matter which.  It was the fact that the mulish horse was doing it at all that confounded him.  

“Well, since you seem to have him so well in hand," Halbarad drawled.  "Would you care to ride him?”

Shaking her head emphatically at the thought, “No, thank you," she replied.  "I have him tamed only enough to keep his teeth to himself.  I would not presume to take anything else for granted with him."  Elanna rubbed Mithraug’s nose.  “I am well aware of my limits with you, my boy.”

Halbarad laughed and offered his assistance.  “Then shall we mount up, my lady?”

Elanna nodded, but her only response to Halbarad’s cupped hands was to arch her brows testily.  Instead, she shortened her reins and clutched a hank of Dusul’s mane.  Smirking, Halbarad spread his hands apart and offered her a small, amused bow in place of a leg up.  Though it was a reach, Elanna slid her foot into the stirrup.  After that, lifting herself off the ground and into the saddle was accomplished with a bit more ease.  Usually, she found a low spot on the ground to stand taller to Dusul's saddle or used any handy object as a mounting block; she had even accepted a leg up on occasion.  Today, however, she wanted to do it all on her own.  She managed, but with a twinge in her thigh muscles that reminded her why she had always relied on some sort of assistance in the past.  Not that Halbarad was ever going to catch wind of that fact.

“Well done, Elanna,” Halbarad acknowledged before grinning up at her.  “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you mount from level ground before.”

“It just goes to show you that you don’t know all that I’m capable of,” Elanna responded archly, lifting her chin and giving a small sniff.

However, she was soon blushing furiously when Halbarad tilted one brow at a decidedly rakish angle over his twinkling eyes.  He grinned in a way that left no doubt as to his interpretation of that proclamation.  Pulling the reins sharply to the left, Elanna tapped her heels to Dusul’s sides and urged him to a quick trot, away.  Halbarad’s laughter followed her, but the amused man and his cantankerous horse were not far behind.

By the time they caught up to her, Elanna’s color had just begun to fade to her normal glow.  Now side-by-side, they slowed their horses to a lazy walk at the road, a pace they maintained until they reached the sun-dappled graves resting under the naked arms of the trees.  Camellia’s most recent offering of the last fall flowers stood in a plain, ceramic cylinder Elanna had made her.  The hobbit-lass had sunk it into the ground so that only an inch or so of the top was visible.  This kept it, and the flowers it held, upright in spite of various attempts by the weather to scatter them.  A cold snap had frozen the flowers into artificial life, no longer responsive to water or sun.  A few petals had been blown off by the wind, but not so many that their fair faces failed to lighten the somber burial place, yet.  

Everyone had made pilgrimages to the well-kept gravesite at one time or another.  Aside from reminders found in the great sword in Celebsul’s keeping, this was their shrine to the devastating events of the summer.  Could it have been only a mere five months since the violent gale that was Tempus Thales blew in and out of the Troll, altering the landscape their lives and the boy Rolfe’s forever with its passing? 

Rolfe and his parents had been merely passing through, stopping only to earn spare coin by doing some laundry and mending for the travelers staying at the inn.  Their only crime was being in the wrong place at the wrong time.  They fell to the knives of Deuce’s foul group of mercenaries and witches, who then kidnapped their boy to play him against Tempus, all ill-fated pawns in an war begun long ago and in a place far from Middle earth's shores where it ended.  

Esiwmas, Sevilodorf’s cousin, took custody of Rolfe after Tempus' death.  He would be raised as a brother to the trader’s own children, spreading their time between the family's holdings in Rohan and their father's offices in Minas Tirith.  Elanna, for one, was glad to hear the boy fared well and had eased into his new setting without too much difficulty; she also knew the pain of becoming an orphan at the whim of another’s violence.  A sudden thought brought a grin to her face.  Rolfe had one companion who probably deserved the credit for making the transition much smoother than it might have been.  According to Esiwmas, Dog and boy were still joined at the hip.

“What are you smiling about?” Halbarad asked, curious as to the turn of thoughts that were betrayed on the girl's face.

Elanna turned to him, her smile dancing in her eyes.  “I was just thinking that Dog has probably been a big help for Rolfe.”

Halbarad returned her grin.  He remembered the beast and his owner.  The animal had made friends with Warg and, when not at Tempus’ side, the two canines could be found romping and running together.  After the man’s death, no one was sure what to do with the dog that mourned its master.  Soon after Tempus' memorial, Celebsul said that Thales had asked him to give Dog to Rolfe, undeniably a perfect solution, but one that never made any sense to Halbarad.  Why in Middle-earth did the man make the request in the first place?  Surely he couldn't have known he was fated to die in the battle that rescued the boy and Meri?  It was a question that, when put to the elf, was answered by an enigmatic smile and the words, “It was afterwards."  Halbarad had always wondered what Celebsul meant by that.

“I’m sure Rolfe and Esiwmas' sons have turned him into a pampered pet that his old master would hardly recognize,” Halbarad said, shaking his head.

“For a minute I thought you were going to say they turned him into a lady's lap dog!” Elanna giggled, shifting in her saddle.

They laughed together at the thought, since the only lap large enough to be capable of accommodating the large animal would have had to belong to a Troll or an Ent.  Laughter faded to silence and their moment of homage ended.  With a salute to the graves, the couple rode on, leaving the road for a smooth trail under the trees.

The open weave of rowan branches overhead gave way to a thick canopy of fir, sheltering them from the light of the sun.  Hidden from their eyes, noisy clicks and whistles burst through the dense needles without betraying the position of the grackles that made them.  A glossy black, the grackle resembled the crow in size and shape, the only difference being the longer tail and bright yellow eyes.  The grackles' vocalizations had an alien, almost mechanical, sound to them, more akin to the dwarven skill with wheels and gears than the sweet songs of winged birds.  

At length, they left the shade for an open meadow of pale, flaxen grass that brushed against the horses' knees.  The first hard frost had long since passed and, with the exception of the conifers, the plants and trees of the woods slept until the coming of spring when the meadow would again return to its fragrant, waving sea of verdant blades.  Upon entering the woods again, the trail veered to the south and ran its course parallel to the river.  The path was too narrow to ride anything but single file, making conversation difficult as they strung along, one behind the other.  Halbarad and Elanna rode in the comfortable silence of their own thoughts while the gurgling voice of the water sang a soothing liquid melody at their side.

Elanna drifted with the water that seemed to sing with a special voice for her ears alone.  The hypersensitivity of Elanna’s senses had abated somewhat since the healing, but as the blind elf Aglaran had noticed; her senses were sharper than those of mortals.  She had fallen into taking this ability for granted, only to appreciate it anew in the last few weeks.  She inhaled the scent of earth and loam, savoring the rich, musky perfume released by the satisfying crunch of leaves under Dusul’s hooves.  The golden sunlight slipped through the jail of bare tree branches as it fought to find freedom on the forest floor and Elanna’s shoulders, seeking to warm them both.  The sun’s rays wrapped about her in an inviting mantle, lulling her into a state of dreaminess.  With a quiet sigh, she let herself go and rode in a contented daze.

Hearing the slight sound behind him, Halbarad twisted in his saddle to check on Elanna.  Mithraug’s snort of disapproval at the obvious, and to the horse, lengthy neglect of the reins brought his rider's attention back around.  Tightening up the reins to the proper tension, Halbarad patted Mithraug’s neck, reassuring the horse that he was still in control.  The Ranger captain smiled to himself, recalling Elanna’s expression behind that sigh.  That slight serene smile and the out of focus gaze verified that all was well with her.  Not that he regularly advocated riding with one’s head in the clouds, but he just didn't have the heart to reproach her.  That path was smooth and clearly marked.  He rode in the lead.  Surely no harm could reach her.

So, Halbarad waited until they reached a small clearing near the river to bring Elanna back to solid earth.  He pulled back on the reins and brought Mithraug to a stop, turning in his saddle again to watch Dusul stop the proper horse length behind, notably in the absence of any direction from Elanna.  He silently congratulated Mateon on his choice of mounts.  Dusul offered the same loyalty to his mistress that Mithraug gave to him.  ‘But without the bloody temperament’, Halbarad thought wryly.

Dusul snuffled and shook his head.  Like Mithraug, he was aware of his mistress’s preoccupation through the tale of her seat and lax hands on the reins.  Dusul followed the gray that had established himself as the lead.  Yet, now that they had halted, the black needed his mistress to guide him.  Dusul shook his head again and shifted on his feet.  The rattling reins and abrupt movement finally caught Elanna’s attention.

“Hmm, what is it, boy?” Elanna asked the horse, patting his neck now that she realized they had stopped.  She looked about her.  Several birch trees framed a clearing of low growth grass.  One much larger than the others skirted the meadow and trailed a scattering of saplings here and there.  To her ever-vivid imagination, the tall tree looked liked a matriarch whose children and grandchildren gathered at her feet.

Finally, when no explanation seemed to be forthcoming she asked, “Hal, why did we stop here?” 

Halbarad smiled at Elanna’s puzzlement.  It meant his secret had been kept safe and his surprise was still intact.  Chuckling, he said, “If nothing else, it was to bring you back down to earth.  Ah, that we lowly beings must be content with crawling on the ground while you soar through the skies.  I can see why you disdain stooping so low as to join us.”

Elanna stuck her tongue out at the man, which only provoked further laughter from him.  But, she couldn't help grin at the image he had created.  Elanna had always loved to listen to Halbarad when he allowed his eloquence free rein.  Bob could never understand the purpose of his friend's ‘flowery talk’ that took ten words to express what could have been said using only three.  That is, until he met Aerio, after which Bob had to admit that at least Halbarad’s tendencies to excess verbiage were comprehensible, whereas Aerio’s addiction to multi-syllabic discourse made it difficult for him to tell where one word ended and another began.

With a sweep of her arm, Elanna indicated the small sunlit glade.  She offered with a mock scowl, “I will agree to put my feet back on firm ground, if you will tell me why we have stopped here."  

Halbarad’s smile became secretive and a teasing light flickered in his eyes.  She didn’t remember yet, but she would and he could not wait to see her expression when she did.  It had been so long.

“Weellllll,” he drawled, enjoying himself, and lightly scratched beneath his chin.  "What is it that we have not done in a long time, years in fact?”

Elanna’s forehead wrinkled and she absent-mindedly chewed on her thumbnail, racking her brain for even the smallest of hints as to the contents of Halbarad's riddle.  Taking advantage of her preoccupation, the man dismounted and wrapped his mount's reins around a nearby sapling.  A quick glance affirmed that she still wasn’t paying attention.  He quietly walked behind her to the opposite edge of the glade and reached for something behind the trunk of the largest birch.  

Crossing back into the sun-drenched meadow, he set his burden at his feet and called out to Elanna, “Does this help to refresh your memory?”

Elanna twisted about in her saddle.  For a blank moment, she stared at Halbarad in the middle of the glade standing behind a large basket.  Then a cascading rush of memories stole her breath away, filling her with a sudden glow.

Growing up at a Rangers' station offered Elanna little in the way of playmates, but she was well recompensed for that lack by the host of older brothers and a sister.  Bob’s closest friends had all made it a point to find an individual pastime they could share with Elanna, to entertain her.  She, in turn, had come to associate the different activities with each of them.  

Anardil was always a willing dance partner, holding her hands and balancing her feet atop his until she was old enough to match his steps.  Elros would often join her in one of her favorite perches, spinning stories of the many people and places he had seen.  Elanna would listen for hours, wide-eyed and sprawled on a comfortable branch, as he leaned against the trunk of the tree and fed her wish to be a Ranger with every word he uttered.  Anoriath could be counted on to teach the girl new combat techniques she had picked up along the way, long before Bob and the others ever thought to show her.  It was a secret that was kept between the two females until Elanna, at the age of eight, used a move she had been taught to sweep her brother to the ground when he was teasing her.  An unrepentant Elanna refused to reveal the source of her fighting knowledge.  That is, until Mateon, at Elena’s urging, agreed that if Elanna told him, then she could start officially sanctioned training now instead of waiting until she was ten as she had been previously told.

Early on, Halbarad had sown the seeds that later bloomed into her love for him through special diversions from everyday life he provided.  He would pick out a special destination, different each time, and would fill a basket with all her favorites treats.  When she was older, they traveled further a field and rode on to new picnic spots.  Once there, they would settle into their feast while Halbarad talked with her about any subject she cared to bring up.  She grew to love these special outings.  Halbarad always weighed her opinions on an adult scale, addressing her concerns as if there were no more serious problem at hand.  But after her parents died, these special times grew more sporadic.  She missed them terribly, though it wasn't until later that she knew just why their absence pained her so.

She could still recall the heartbreaking details of the last time Halbarad took her on one of their special outings.  It was after the War of the Rings, in the city of Minas Tirith.  They were all gathered there for the coronation of King Elessar.  Almost all of them.  The Rangers she knew had been called to faraway and dangerous places and Elanna had spent the winter in lonely worry, surrounded by well-meaning people she barely knew.  Bob's urging to travel south to meet them had sprung open the cage of her anxiety.  Through all the long journey to Gondor, she had looked forward to being content again in the circle of her surrogate family. 

Once she arrived, Elanna had a difficult time taking in the injury that had been done to Anardil and his uncharacteristic retreat from his friends.  His absence tarnished the luster of what was an otherwise joyous occasion; a joy that was further dimmed when Halbarad broke the news to her on their last outing.  Anoriath was transferred to the far southern plains of Mordor and his next assignment was to keep he and Elros away for at least two years, if not more.  At the telling, a shadow lay deep in the wells of his eyes of an origin she could not even begin to guess.  If only one of them had dared to speak what was in their hearts, perhaps the tortured path to their love would lay smooth before them now.  But, they had not, and as true to his word as always, Halbarad had disappeared from her life for just over two years, an exile that had ended when he and Elros stepped through the doorway of the inn of The Burping Troll.

“I remember,” replied Elanna, pleased both with herself and with the reinstatement of the fond pastime.  She dismounted and stretched her legs.  “It’s been a long time, I thought you had forgotten, or that you thought I had outgrown the picnics.”

“No," Halbarad denied with regret.  "I had not forgotten and have sorely felt the lack of those times,” he reassured her.  His next words made her wonder what he was thinking.  “I was a fool."  

Halbarad chose not to explain further.  Instead, he held out his hand to her in a pensive silence.  Quickly securing Dusul, she placed her hand in Halbarad’s and let him lead her to the basket.  Together they spread the thin blanket on the ground and unpacked the over-stuffed container.  Conversation all but ceased in the face of the hobbit-sized repast Meri and Erin had put together for them; a meal consisting of a huge loaf of fresh bread, a good third of a wheel of ripe cheese and a mound of sliced, smoked venison, enough for four people.  With the two cups provided, they washed everything down with sweet, clear water from the river.  

Feeling pretty full but unable to resist, Elanna pulled the napkin-wrapped desert from the basket and set it on her lap.  When the unfolding of the linen revealed its contents, Halbarad burst into laughter.  Perplexed by his sudden amusement, Elanna picked up the tart and examined it closely.  She saw not a single defect or blemish that could have provoked the helpless chortles of the man sitting next to her.  Unable to comprehend what it was that Halbarad found so hilarious, she scowled at him for an explanation.

Though aware of her questioning glance, the Ranger captain was equally incapable of doing anything about it until his laughter released him.  Mastering himself only with great effort and wiping his eyes with the heels of his hand, he tried to speak but only managed to set himself to coughing.  Clearing his throat, Halbarad finally spoke, if somewhat hoarsely.  

“This is the hobbit’s way of saying they hope that everything will work out for us."  To his surprise, his words did not lift the puzzled scowl from Elanna's brow.  “That’s right,“ he groaned, slapping his palm to his forehead.  “The night of the play, I won a tart in the riddle contest, remember?”  He waited for her nod before he recited, “From joy and sorrow, shining sun or white snow, spring I a fountain, very quick or quite slow.  Releasing and hurting, kissed and brushed aside, many more are swallowed, along with one's pride."

Elanna stared at him blankly a moment until memory provided her with the answer she sought.  “Tears," she said softly.  "An answer we were both well acquainted with at the time.” Her gaze lowered to the plump tart.  “I remember now.  Erin gave you a tart as a prize for solving that riddle."  

Halbarad took the pastry from Elanna and turned it in his hands.  “It was about the size of this one, if I remember rightly.  Erin told me that it was big enough to share with someone special."  Halbarad set it between them and lightly rested one of his hands on hers as he gazed into her eyes.  Halflings were nothing if not tenacious.  “It looks like the lasses still think so, doesn’t it?”

Caught in his eyes, the blaze of love that poured out over her stunned Elanna.  It lasted but an instant and then the veil was drawn, leaving in its place only a fond smile.  Elanna stared at him, speechless.  Halbarad had always taken great care to shield her from the intensity of his love for her, not wanting her to feel pressured in any way, but in that brief second she wanted more than anything to be able to share what he felt in kind.  

“Elanna, what are you thinking about?” Halbarad asked, lightly brushing the back of her hand with his fingertips.

It took her a moment to realize he was talking to her.  Elanna pulled her hand back; she was not at all willing to reveal her true thoughts at the moment.  Halbarad had not meant for her to see the fire that burned within him and she did not wish to purchase the sight of it with his distress.  Since she could not tell him the truth behind her silence, she settled for an earlier one that was just as valid.

“I was just remembering another special treat,” she said, a wide grin breaking out on her face, “only it didn’t turn out quite as well as this one.”

Once again Halbarad burst into laughter, but, this time, Elanna joined him.  He couldn't help but know exactly the episode to which she referred.  It had involved a birthday cake, the first she had ever attempted.  Poor Bob, in the excess of his attempt to avoid hurting her feelings, he had choked down every bite of the very generous slice she had given him, all the while praising it to the skies.  Halbarad, Elros, Anardil and Anoriath each picked at the slices they were given and, to their secret amusement, watched Bob turn various shades of green.  It seems that, to Halbarad's surprise, her brother had finally confessed their deception.  

Before the laughter faded, their amusement brought to mind other such incidents and thus the afternoon passed quickly as they reminisced about the joys of the past.  After they had exhausted themselves in the telling, a pleasant silence fell between the two.  Elanna lay parallel to Halbarad on her stomach with her head resting on her crossed arms.  Though her eyes were closed, she was not asleep.  Halbarad lay on his back with his fingers laced behind his head, his legs stretched out long before him and his feet crossed.  His eyes fixed on the blue sky above him.  The day had been a gift of the Valar, precious in the gentle healing of humor shared between them.  He wondered if he should bring up yet another memory of the past.  He knew how badly she wished to love him again.  How could he not when she made it plain in the things she said and the things she left unsaid.  Would the telling of this particular memory help her bridge that gap between affection and desire?  Halbarad broke the silence.

In a quiet voice, he asked, “Do you remember the day your parents died?”

Elanna turned her head and opened her eyes to find that Halbarad had rolled to his side, propping his head on his hand.  She shifted her position until it matched his, enabling her to see him without giving herself a crick in her neck.  She saw only a calm curiosity in his eyes, yet sensed a purpose to his question that she was unable to discern at the moment.  

“Yes,” she answered slowly, her voice tinged with sadness.  “That was the same day you rescued me from that awful orc.”

“I remember picking you up off the ground where the orc had thrown you,” Halbarad said, holding her with nothing more than the power of his gaze.  “I told you that day it would be all right, everything would be all right.”

“I remember,” Elanna said softly through a mist that clouded her sight.

Halbarad ran his finger gently down her cheek.  “When I looked into your eyes, that was when I realized I loved you."  

Halbarad’s features blurred and, with his touch, she heard a faint whisper in her heart.  

Halbarad let his hand drop to the ground near hers.  “After that, I stayed away more and finally took that assignment after the coronation.  But still, when I saw you in Minas Tirith I knew my love for you had increased rather than lessened.”

Recalling his earlier self-condemnation, she asked, puzzled, “Why didn’t you tell me then."  

‘A good question‘, he mused.  He had wrestled with the consequences of that decision many times since she had been assigned to Nurn.  “I thought I was too old for you, that you deserved love from someone closer to you in age,” Halbarad explained thoughtfully.  “I also believed that you did not feel the same way about me, that you considered me a brother still.”

“Oh!” Elanna exclaimed softly.  She had never really considered their difference in ages before.  The loss of her parents had forced her to take on a more mature role and, in the lack of age-mates, she had thought of herself as an adult like Bob long before she had achieved the ‘appropriate’ number of years.  It had been a long frustration of hers that others did not see her in the same light.

While she pondered this, a smile slowly spread across Halbarad‘s face.  “Then, just scant months ago, I walked into the inn that I was to evaluate as a possible new Ranger post, looking for my old friend and brother."  Halbarad’s eyes twinkled as the old emotions resurfaced.  “I clearly remember my first comment to Elros that it figured Bob would find the prettiest girl in the room.”

A delicate blush stained Elanna’s cheeks.  How she had basked in both the admiration and lack of recognition from the two Rangers.  “I remember that I was flattered and happy.”

“You were?” Halbarad exclaimed, genuinely surprised.

“Yes I was.”  She paused, pulling at the short grass while she gathered her thoughts.  “You see, I too remember the day I was rescued and the adoration of my childhood blossomed into something more."  Elanna looked up from the ground to meet his eyes.  “I just didn’t understand what that something more was."  

Elanna smiled at Halbarad’s amazement.  How little they had understood each other‘s hearts, or their own for that matter.

That day had been a mix of vastly different emotions.  The overwhelming grief for her parents' deaths, her mother’s right before her own eyes.  The paralyzing terror when she realized she could not win her fight against the orc that had slain her mother.  The beast had disarmed her and picked her up, running for the door.  In her fright, she had barely a moment to imagine what fate the orc had in mind for her before the ground rose up to meet her, thrown down by the orc in favor of his own self-defense.  She struggled to regain the wind that had been knocked out of her, all the while watching the swordplay of a coldly enraged Halbarad.  

The tenderness of his embrace and soothing words that followed had been a balm to her battered heart.  In the aftermath of that attack, the sun peeked cautiously from behind heavy cloud cover and Halbarad's eyes caught that light.  Her recognition of what lay there jolted through her, an awakening of an emotion that bore no name that she knew, but changed everything that she felt for this friend of her brother's.  It had taken her years to comprehend what her heart had recognized in a startled flash that day.  

Elanna continued.  “That something more was renewed when a handsome Ranger walked through the door of the Troll and saw me as an adult, finally.  I was grateful for that.”

Halbarad smiled and winked at her.

“And then you kissed me and I was more confused than ever," Elanna mused.  “I didn’t understand these feelings at all.  I only knew that they had grown stronger than ever.  When I did, like you, finally come to name them, I had no idea you returned my regard until I petitioned.  But by that point I thought it was too late.”

“But it wasn’t, or it shouldn’t have been.”  Halbarad released a deep sigh.  “I wasted so much time playing the fool.  Not understanding my own heart is a claim I can’t make.”

Elanna appeared not to hear him.  “No it wasn’t too late,” she said.  She dropped to her back and abruptly sat up, exclaiming aloud, “It’s not fair!”
 
“What?” Halbarad asked, lifting himself up on one arm, alarmed.

“How can I remember those times and know in my head that I loved you," Elanna cried in anguish.  "But still be unable to feel it in my heart?”  She pulled her knees up to her chest and wrapped her arms tightly about them.  “Aye, I am fond of you.  I enjoy spending time with you, there is no other I'd rather be with, but that is all.  A pleasant memory of an old love but nothing more.  Yet, sometimes.  .  .”  She lapsed into silence and blankly stared out into the meadow.

"What?” urged Halbarad.

“Sometimes, I can almost feel it, like a forgotten name on the tip of my tongue,” Elanna said, frustrated.  “If I just tried harder I could almost ...  so close and yet so far.”  Elanna grimaced and reached out her hand as if to grasp space before turning her palm up, empty.  “Then it’s gone."  She dropped her hand to clutch her knees to her chest.  "Hal, why can I remember how it felt then but I can’t feel it now?  I want to!  I truly do.”

Halbarad sat up and shifted to his knees behind her, his hands on her shoulders.  He longed to hold her close to him and kiss away her frustration, but this was not the time, not yet.  Instead, he massaged her shoulders and her arms.  

“You will remember when it is time, and not before,” Halbarad said, his voice gentle in her ear.  “A word, a gesture or a look, who’s to say what will unlock whatever cages the love you seek.  It waits for us, have no fear."  Halbarad moved to her side and gently turned her face to his.  “Until then, let us enjoy what we have now.”

Relaxing against him, Elanna let herself be comforted in the encompassing mantle of his love.  She pushed aside her worst fear, the one she could not give a voice.  Yet it still whispered behind the back that she turned to it.  ‘What if you never find it?  What if your love for him is gone and the ability to create it anew is ruined?”

Forcing a smile she replied, "I know I can do that much.”

Watching her eyes, Halbarad almost confronted the shadowy fear she withheld, but wisely changed his mind.  It was hers to speak of or not.  With a smile more natural than hers, he pushed himself to standing and held out his hand.  The mood was gone and their outing was over.

“Do you think you could also help me gather all this together,” he asked, gesturing to the remains of their picnic.

Smiling genuinely at last, she responded, “I think I can manage, though how you got all of this out here is beyond me.”

But he just grinned, refusing to reveal his method until all was packed away in the basket.  When the last corner of the blanket was tucked away, Halbarad let out a piercing whistle.  Elanna stared at him bewildered until she heard a light thrashing of branches and scuffing of leaves from under the eaves of the forest. She laughed uproariously when Warg trotted out into the clearing with a studied nonchalance.  

After a sidelong glance at the laughing girl, Warg sniffed at Halbarad, “And what does she think is so funny?”

Struggling to keep a straight face, Halbarad answered, “I think she finds my ingenuity amusing.”

“Phfffffff,” the warg chuffed.  “Sounds like she got a hold of a bad bite of haggis if you ask me."  Looking from Elanna to Halbarad she prompted, “Speaking of haggis…”

Halbarad finally allowed himself a smile.  “Meri has it ready and waiting for you,” he promised as he affixed the basket to the beast's neck.  “Thank you again, Warg.”

With one last look at Elanna who almost had herself under control again, Warg trotted back the way she came, her mind on haggis and a warm place in the sun where she could eat it in peace.

Halbarad stepped close to Elanna.  “You’d be surprised what you can accomplish with Warg when you have her favorite foods to offer her.”

Elanna swiped at her eyes one last time.  “I’ll have to remember that one,” she said.  

Yet, looking into Halbarad’s eyes at this unguarded moment, her breath caught in her lungs.  He was so close and the impossible aquamarine gleamed warmly as polished stone in the light of the sun.  Her chest constricted around her heart.  She couldn’t breathe.  She couldn’t think.  The only thing that existed for her in that moment was his eyes and the love in them that shone like a beacon to lead her home.  Equally trapped, he leaned toward her and she felt that glimmer of something again, that feeling that was so close as if she could just reach out to it.  His breath brushed her cheek with delicate butterfly wings.  Her eyes closed of their own accord before he tenderly pressed his lips against hers.  For a brief second, an unnamed feeling fluttered and struggled to come to life, and then it was gone.  Ice shot into her veins, stealing the warmth from her limbs and her heart.  Every muscle froze as night replaced the day.

Halbarad felt the heart-pounding joy when Elanna started to return his kiss and he felt the stab of fear when it went terribly wrong.  Ending the kiss, Halbarad leaned away from her, frozen by the cold blade of fear that had stabbed him in the heart.  Elanna’s eyes were open, her body rigid.  She didn't move at his touch.

"Elanna," he called gently.  

Her eyes were focused on him, but she seemed unable to move or speak.  Thus encouraged, Halbarad continued to speak soft, comforting words to her while stroking her hair, her face until with a great tearing gasp she regained her ability to speak.

“Hal!” she cried hoarsely, “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry.”

Anything else she might have said was rendered unintelligible when he clasped her to him in a tight embrace.  Without thinking, Elanna clutched at his tunic as the tears came.

“Shhhh,” he said as he pressed his lips to the top of her head, his voice filled with remorse.  “It is all my fault, I shouldn’t have tried to kiss you.  I knew you weren’t ready."  He stroked her hair and laid his cheek on her head.  “Forgive me, my love, I didn’t mean to frighten you.”

Elanna pushed against his chest until she could see his face, her hands still full of the material, tears cascading down her cheeks.  “It’s not your fault, I wanted that kiss and it almost worked,” she tried to reassure him tearfully.  “I felt something, something good and it was so close, Hal.  It was so close and I almost had it.  Please,” she implored him, ”Do not blame yourself, I couldn’t bear it if you did.”

Halbarad wiped away her tears with his fingertips.  “My sweet Elanna, ever concerned for the feelings of others.  I will not blame myself if you promise you will not let this cause you any embarrassment."  Halbarad smoothed her troubled brow.  “I could not bear it if the next time you look at me, you only remember this moment.  'Tis but a fleeting shadow on an otherwise glorious afternoon.  I would have you remember all else and not this.”

Elanna sniffed and her hands loosened their grasp on his tunic.  Though she would never tell him, her lack pained her all the more for his compassion.  

Clearing her throat, Elanna said, “I can’t promise anything but to try.”

“That is all I can ask,” Halbarad replied.  His heart ached for this woman he loved.  He could not even begin to imagine what it would be like to walk the path she did so resolutely.  Every time she fell, she picked herself up, brushed herself off, and then she set her feet on the path again, all the while never knowing if she would reach the destination she sought.  

Hiding his sorrow and his pride in her behind a teasing smile, Halbarad held out his hand and asked,  “Will you allow me to help you mount this time my independent to a fault lady.”

Elanna giggled, forcing the bitter memory of the failed kiss to the back of her mind.  If she didn’t want to be sore and walking funny later, she would be wise to accept his offer.

“Your gallantry is truly overwhelming, my captain,” Elanna held out an imaginary skirt and curtsied.

Halbarad unwrapped the reins and, after bringing them over Dusul’s head, handed them to Elanna.  She placed her foot in his cupped hands and allowed him to boost her to her saddle.  Waiting only until he had mounted Mithraug, she urged Dusul up the trail that led to the road.  Leaving the past minutes behind her in the glade, she concentrated on the future.  'I almost had it. 

'The next time I will,' she promised herself.  

When she reached the road, she glanced behind her.

“'Tis a shame your Mithraug is showing his age,” she teased with a mock sigh.  “He was a fast horse ...  once.”

Laughing, Elanna tapped her heels against Dusul’s ribs, enjoying the rush of the wind against her face as the powerful animal broke into a fast canter.  

Halbarad shook his head and clicked his tongue.  “Are we going to let them get away with that, boy?” he asked and kicked at Mithraug's flanks.  The stallion responded with an abrupt surge of strength.  

Happy that her bad moment seemed to have faded, he threw himself into the race, heart and soul.

Chapter Four

Second Day of Yule
Mid-afternoon 

“You keep your eyes closed now, no fair peeking!"  

Somewhere under the giggles of three hobbit lasses and one red-haired elf, Elanna heard the rustle of paper and fabric.  What on Middle-earth could the surprise be?  All Elanna knew was that Camellia and Pippin had accosted her the moment she walked in the front door.  Elf and hobbit insisted that she come with them to Erin and Meri’s room.  A firmly, if somewhat unevenly, propelled Elanna had no choice but to comply.  

Now she stood with her back to the room, eyes squeezed shut while the conspirators prepared to unveil their Yule surprise.  Elanna suddenly realized that the room had fallen quiet.  The only sound she heard from behind her was that of soft breathing then came a whispered countdown finished with a ’NOW!’  

“SURPRISE!"  cried four voices in unison.  

Laughing gaily, Elanna whirled around and opened her eyes.  

“Now just what do you four think you’re up…” 

Words failed only to be replaced with a startled gasp of recognition.  Limbs trembling, Elanna managed to take the few shaky steps she needed to reach Erin’s bed.  Kneeling, she stretched her arm to run a tremulous hand over the deep crimson silk draped over the bed.  This was no dream; the glowing fabric was cool and smooth under her fingertips.  

She gathered part of the skirt and held it to her breast.  As her eyes closed, the image of a laughing woman filled her mind.  Melin, surprisingly elegant in the red dress with her curls braided up off her neck.  The immaculate image was quickly spoiled by the memory of some of the Nurnen potter’s more earthy comments about what she expected to get with that dress.  But that was as much Melin as the square shoulders that had been framed by this silk cloth and Elanna had loved her.  

Elanna sniffled and swiped at her eyes with the heel of her hand.  “How did you get this?  When I got back, it hurt too much to look at it so I put it away.  I didn’t know anyone else knew where it was."  

As the spokesperson for the conspirators, those both present and absent, Erin answered.  “Meri, Camellia and I took it apart, cut it down and then stitched it back together,” the hobbit lass reported proudly.  

Shaking her head, Elanna tried again.  “That tells me what you did with it, but how did you come by the dress in the first place?” 

“Well," Erin temporized.  "We got the idea after you got better that it would be nice if you could have it to wear for Yule.  Which, by the way, we’re glad we did, because Halbarad told me that he was going to court you special tonight and that means you need something extra special to wear.  So, don't you see?  It worked out perfectly,” the hobbit explained with a firmly complacent smile 

Elanna opened her mouth to ask again, but then, giving up, just snapped it shut.  Ultimately, how they had obtained the dress did not matter.  Bob was probably behind it all, anyway.  What mattered was that she had friends who loved her enough to surprise her with this wonderful thing.  

“Well, don’t just stand there, try it on,” Meri exclaimed when Elanna simply gaped at them and the dress.  The hobbit-lass stood on the bed and held the dress up by the shoulders against her charge.  “We need to make sure that it fits properly and doesn’t need any adjustments."  

Elanna stood and gathered the rest of the dress in her arms.  She let Camellia push her in the direction of the screen in the corner of the room, with Meri's voice following her across the room.

"Though, I almost wish those women in Nurn weren't such good seamstresses.  Such tiny stitches I've never seen!" she exclaimed.

Pippin called from her post by the window, "It was almost as if they expected her to be in a careless hurry when she was putting it on or pulling it off."

Elanna blushed, thankful for the screen.  

Meri continued, oblivious, "And you should have seen the tiny needle-holes left behind.  Thank goodness it's raw silk else we'd never have been able to reclaim some of those seams.'

Erin only interrupted to keep up a running commentary while Elanna changed.  The two sat together on the bed, watching the screen.  

“Remember when you sent that letter about Melin and the dress?” Erin asked though she hurried on and left no opening for an answer.  “Bob told me later that he wanted to get you one for your birthday and asked if we could help since he thought we did such a good job on the package we …Ouch!” 

Erin broke off abruptly, rubbing her arm from where Meri had given her a small pinch, the surprise more painful than the actual squeeze.  Her friend shook her head gravely at her.  Erin's eyes flew open in alarm when she suddenly remembered where most of them were on September twentieth.  Only Halbarad had been brave enough to try and celebrate the young Ranger's birthday, after a fashion.  If Erin remembered correctly, that hadn’t gone as well as Halbarad would have liked, though he did walk away with a little more hope for regaining Elanna’s love.  It was a difficult time for them all.  Silly hobbit, she never should have brought it up.  

“I’m sorry Elanna, I didn’t mean to…” Erin began contritely.  

Elanna quickly interrupted her, "Don’t feel bad Erin, please.  Bob told me about his idea and he was right to ask all of you for help."  A giggle floated over the screen.  “If he hadn’t, I might have found myself dressed in the most elegant horse blanket ever worn by a woman."  

Hobbits and elf joined her in sidesplitting laughter, breaking the worried tension that had settled on them.  The image of Bob trying to dress his sister in a horse blanket was one they could easily visualize.  But soon the laughter from behind the screen changed into frustrated growls.  

“Aarggghhh!  Darn thing!  No wonder Melin got all tangled in these bloody strings,” came Elanna’s exasperated remark.  “Can I get some help here please, or I’ll still be trying to hook this up come spring."  

Meri jumped off the bed and gave Pippin a slight push.  “You’re the tallest, go help her Pip.  We don’t want to see her until she’s completely ready."  

Pippin shook her head but complied with a comment to the effect of, "What does being the tallest have to do with anything anyway."  She soon found out.  Small though she was, Elanna was still too tall for any of the hobbits to properly lace and hook up the dress.  Pippin started by trying to sort out the laces that Elanna had managed to tangle.  

“Sorry, Elanna, but this is a mess!  I need to unlace it and start over, if you don‘t mind?” Pippin asked as she frowned at the back of the dress.  

Elanna stifled a giggle; the tone in the elf’s voice was the mirror of her own when she had provided the same service for Melin.  

“Whatever you need to do, Pip,” Elanna answered.  Her voice sounded odd as she frantically choked back her laughter, an undertaking Elanna was obliged keep up while she listened to Pippin’s mutterings on the subject of unnecessarily complicated fastenings, whoever had thought up such an arrangement, and thank goodness elves were so much more sensible about such things.  But Elanna’s laughter faltered when Pippin pulled the back of the dress apart, attempting to realign it before she laced it again.  The elf’s hands stopped and Elanna heard the soft intake of breath.  Her face colored, for she knew what it was that caught Pippin’s attention.  

Meri’s interruption could not have come at a more welcome time.  

“Did you two fall asleep back there?” Meri asked, straining her neck from the bed in a vain effort to see past the screen.

Pippin’s hands quickly picked their task up again.  ” No, it’s just that there are too many holes for these laces and these hooks might as well be mustard seeds.  Give us another minute?” Pippin asked, trying to hurry.  

When the last hook had been fastened, Pippin turned Elanna around and lifted the girl up to enfold her in a tight embrace.  Elanna returned the squeeze.  Of course Pippin would understand, since she and Carcharien were very close.  The young Ranger had only been given a small glimpse of what the elf must have suffered.

As she set the girl back down on her feet, Pippin asked Elanna softly, ”Ready?” 

Elanna nodded.  “I’m coming out, ladies,” she called out to the hobbits.  

After an encouraging smile from Pippin, Elanna stepped from behind the screen.  The delighted expressions from her friends did much to ease her nervousness.  The hobbits had done an admirable job on the dress.  The neckline still went from the edge of one shoulder to the other, and though it did not dip down quite as low as Melin had worn it, it was still lower than anything Elanna had ever worn before.  The fullness of the skirt had been reduced so as not to overwhelm her petite frame.  With some of the extra material the tight short sheaths that Melin had favored were replaced with long flowing sleeves split along the top length of her arm, held together by bits of ribbon between the open seam.  

Meri drew her brows together critically and approached Elanna, lifting a bit of skirt here, checking a seam there and making the girl turn full circle before she was satisfied.  

Meri nodded sharply to herself.  “It fits perfectly and the style changes suit you much better than the original would have.  Now it's your dress completely,” she announced with satisfaction, beaming up at the girl.  

“Ummm, Meri … the front is, well, is it supposed to be…” Elanna tugged on the neckline and stumbled over her words.  “I mean, it's kind of low down, that is down low, the neck is down low."  

Everyone had a good giggle as Elanna strove to coherently express her concerns about the depth of the neckline with little success.  Finally, Meri took pity on the rattled girl.  

“There is absolutely nothing wrong with the neck,” Meri insisted firmly.  “It’s perfectly appropriate for a young maid’s party dress, and much more conservative than the original was I’ll have you know."  Meri shook her head and said pointedly.  “If you would spend as much time in a dress as you do in britches then you wouldn’t feel so uncomfortable."  

Elanna responded to this rejoinder by adopting a fighting stance and advanced on Meri as if she were some fearsome opponent to be vanquished.  

“Stop that this instant, silly peredhil,” Erin admonished as she stepped in between Elanna and Meri.  She waggled her finger at the girl.  “We didn’t put in all that hard work so that you could spoil it by horsing around."  

Erin grabbed the errant half-elf by the hand and dragged her back to the changing screen.  After sternly telling Elanna to stay put, Erin disappeared behind the screen.  She reappeared shortly, struggling to drag a heavy rectangular object wrapped in an old blanket.  Elanna rushed to help the hobbit-lass stand the covered piece against the wall.  Still, she'd been unable to discern what lay hidden beneath the thick cloth.  

Meri and Camellia clapped their hands together and spoke at the same time.  

“Oh yes, Erin, what a good idea,” exclaimed the excited Camellia.  

“Why didn’t I think of this before,” was Meri’s comment.  

Elanna looked blankly at Meri.  “What are you talking about?  What is it?” 

“How would you like to see how the dress looks on you?” Meri asked excitedly.  

Elanna frowned, tilting her head with a perplexed glance at the hobbit.  “Do what?” 

Meri smiled enigmatically and, with a flourish, pulled off the cloth to unveil the mysterious object.  It was a thin, metal rectangle, about two feet tall and a foot wide, its surface polished to a reflective sheen.  Pippin took a quick look at Elanna and then the mirror, after which she pulled a chair over to the wall and settled it facing into the room.  The metal sheet soon followed, propped on the seat of the chair.  The elf stood in front of the mirror a moment, then leaned forward and adjusted it.  

“There,” Pippin said, eyes gleaming with satisfaction.  She stepped back and around until she was behind Elanna.  “If you stand in front of it like this,” she instructed while steering the girl by her shoulders until she was in the correct position.  “And move back about this far.”  Pippin crouched down until she could just see above the top of Elanna’s head.  “Perfect!  Now you can see everything!"  

Elanna stared at her reflection.  The redheaded elf was right, she could see herself from head to toe.  She spun in a circle, letting the skirt lift and twirl with her.  She grinned at the movement displayed in the reflective surface.  Meri was also right; this style suited her much better and the neckline didn’t look nearly as revealing as it felt.  She stepped closer to the mirror, just to be certain, flipping her hair out of the way.  

The captivated girl preened before the mirror to the pleasantly amused expressions of those who watched.  But their smiles of enjoyment abruptly fell to frowns of worry when Elanna froze, her eyes wide, staring at something in the mirror.  The deep crimson fabric was now too strong against the bloodless face of the girl who wore it.  

Concern raised the pitch of Erin’s voice slightly.  “What is it, Elanna?  What’s wrong?  I thought you liked the dress," the hobbit invited.  

Elanna slowly turned to her hobbit friend with stricken eyes.  

“I love the dress.  It’s beautiful.  It's just that…” Elanna’s voice broke.  

Of their own will, her hands crossed and crept up to her exposed neck and shoulders, spreading out to cover what was displayed by the dress.  

“You’ve all been so wonderful and kind, I’m sorry,” Elanna muttered miserably.  “I just can’t wear it.  Please forgive me."  

Elanna whirled and ran behind the screen before her dismayed friends could either speak or act.  It was Pippin who knelt down and motioned the three stunned hobbits to come closer.  

“Don’t be upset or offended.  It is my guess that this is the first time she’s ever seen how they look from another’s point of view,” Pippin explained in a low voice.  

“But I hardly noticed them and she looks so lovely in that dress,” protested Camellia.  

“Me either,” Erin and Meri claimed in one voice.  

“I know, but she noticed them,” Pippin said.  “But I have an idea that may help, so do not lose heart just yet."  

The three hobbits regained some of their original excitement with Pippin’s words.  Each one hoped that whatever Pippin planned to attempt would work.  Following the elf‘s suggestion, Meri, Erin and Camellia quietly left the room.  In the ensuing silence Pippin could hear the faint sniffs coming from behind the screen.  

“Pip, could you help me please?” came the tearful entreaty.  

She joined the girl who was futilely tugging at the back of the dress, her shaking hands making it impossible for Elanna to make heads or tails of the laces and hooks.  Silently, Pippin laid her hands upon Elanna’s and gently eased them back to the girl’s sides.  Thus stilled, Pippin then took up the cloth that had covered the mirror and used it as a makeshift cloak for the girl.  She turned her until the two were face to face, though she could not see beyond the crown of Elanna’s bowed head.  

“Elanna, I know what troubles you,” Pippin stated and then paused as she waited for some kind of response.  

The young woman slowly raised her head until she met Pippin’s gaze.  Discouragement and distress darkened Elanna's eyes.  She'd had no idea that the scars were so obvious.

“Will you come with me?  I think I know something that will help," Pippin asked.  

Elanna debated what to do.  She wasn’t sure what Pip could possibly have in mind but she trusted the red-haired elf.  

“I’ll come,” Elanna agreed.  

Pippin nodded sharply.  The elf gathered up the skirt and flung it across Elanna's arm and grabbed the surprised girl's hand.  She fairly flew out the door and down the path dragging the girl behind her before Elanna could change her mind.  

********** 
“Now you stay here and promise me you won’t leave,” Pippin insisted after she stopped to let Elanna find her feet.  

Elanna had willingly assented, but now her increasing nervousness was causing her to have second thoughts.  

“I’m not going to promise anything unless you explain what your idea is,” Elanna declared, edging away from the elf.  

Pippin flipped the cloth off of Elanna‘s shoulders and tossed it onto a nearby chair, “I can’t explain yet, but I will promise that, under the circumstances, you'll regret its doing less than the refraining,” she said earnestly.  

Elanna studied the fair elven face.  She knew Pippin would not do anything to cause her more upset.  

“I promise, I will wait,” Elanna assured Pippin.  

Pippin bestowed a quick hug on Elanna before she vanished through the doorway.  While she waited, Elanna walked around, studying the room.  Like all the rooms in Woodhaven, it meshed the light and air of the outdoors with the warmth of shelter.  From each piece of furniture to the moldings about the ceiling, all was created with an individual beauty that came together in a harmonious whole.  However, the rumpled bedclothes and clothing and accessories casually strewn about proclaimed it to be no one else's but Pippin’s quarters.  Elanna found it amusing that the elf still insisted on keeping her old room at the Troll as well as this one, and in the same condition.  But she had to admit that the clutter did little to disturb the serenity that was common to every room in Woodhaven.  As always, the atmosphere worked its magic on Elanna.  By the time Pippin returned, a good portion of the young Ranger’s distress had melted away like the snow she had tracked in.  

During her tour of Pippin’s room, Elanna noticed that the skirt moved fluidly with her every step.  She'd never worn a dress of such rich fabric before and reveled in the soft whisper of fabric, suddenly feeling very pretty and feminine.  She stopped and, standing in place, swayed side to side a little.  Pleased with the effect, Elanna smiled and spun in a quick circle, the skirt rising like a sail and then fluttering to rest when she stopped.  What a delight it would be to dance in such a dress.  Elanna hummed to herself and, when she found the beat, she began to move about the room, first in small simple steps, then larger steps with turns.  Finally, she gave in and whirled around the room with abandon.  In her mind she heard the pipe and the lute and she could feel the warmth of Halbarad’s arm around her waist, fingers laced together as they danced in a great hall lit by hundreds of candles and not another soul in sight.  

“Elanna?” Pippin called.  

Her name jarred Elanna out of her daydream and dropped her sharply into reality.  Surprise nailed her dancing feet to the floor, blushing furiously.  She wondered how long the two elves had been standing at the door.  Embarrassment weighted her tongue.  She had been completely caught up in her fantasy and, now that it was over, she could not think of a single thing to say.  Carcharien leapt in to fill the awkward silence.  

“You dance very well and that dress is stunning on you,” Carcharien complimented, smiling his approval.  

Elanna knew his words to be sincere.  Still, she could not stop her gaze from dropping to the floor.  

“I think she looks beautiful in it too," Pippin said and caught Carcharien's eye.  Little needed saying between them that the other did not know through the glance.  "But she says she’s not going to wear it tonight," Pippin added, more for Elanna's benefit than for her mate's.  

Elanna stood rooted to the same spot, seeming to be enthralled by one of Pippin’s tunics that had fallen to a rumpled mess on the floor.  However, she heard footsteps approaching and soon elven boots appeared beside the fallen tunic.  A hand came into view and lifted her chin.  

“Why will you not wear the dress?” Carcharien asked gently.  

Elanna looked at him, noting that they were alone now.  She was mute in her embarrassment.  Surely the answer was obvious to him.  

“Is this why?”  When he did not receive an answer, Carcharien lowered his hand from her chin and touched two fingers to the mark at the base of her neck.  A thin but noticeable scar slid over her right shoulder, followed the line of her neck and then curved along her collarbone to the hollow of her throat, a permanent necklace.  Two smaller scars climbed over the ridge of her left shoulder side by side.  At his touch, Elanna raised her eyes to his.  In them, he beheld a mix of awkward humiliation and longing.  

“These are merely marks on your body," he urged.  "The tale they tell is but a small part of the full story that is you, Elanna."  He took her by the hands.  “You have nothing to fear from the gaze of others, all here know this tale.  There is not a single soul amongst your friends who would look on you with scorn, distaste or pity."  

Elanna had to admit that she had seen none of these emotions in the faces of her friends, only in her reflection in the mirror.  Still, there was something about the elf’s statement that nagged at her, something that was missing.  

“You are right, the only loathing in that room was mine," she answered.  "Still," she paused, hesitant to continue.  "You once told me that I deserve the same mercy as you.  I want to believe that the healing love and acceptance of my friends just waits for my asking.  But, Carcharien, how can I trust that it waits for me when you, yourself still hide from them?"

When the elf dropped his eyes to the leather tooled wrist-guards that covered his forearms and pursed his lips ruefully, Elanna continued earnestly, "How could you not deserve the same mercy that you say is out there for me?"

When she fell silent, Carcharien let out a small wry laugh and smiled at her.  He'd sought out Elanna to console her in her distress and had instead been confronted with compassion for his own fears.  And she was right.  He had fallen into long habit of hiding that kept an unspoken barrier between him and those he loved.  Gazing into the young peredhel's eyes now, he caught an indefinable glimmer of the stars that he'd not noticed before.  In its light, he couldn't help but wonder what it must be like for her, to live a life with the heart of an elf in a mortal body, knowing there’s a difference that can never totally be reconciled.  

Carcharien's thumb grazed her chin fondly.  “I know the look you are afraid of finding in the eyes of your friends, I have seen it in my own brothers,” he said.  “Indeed the one that was needed most was the last to come.  It took time for Anbarad to find peace enough to forgive me.  And yet, even the love of my brothers could not provide me with the key to free me from my self-imposed shame.  For two thousand mortal years I have clutched that key in jealous hands, holding onto shame as if my suffering would make me more worthy of forgiveness.  I would not want you to spend your life as I have."  

“But you’ve found that key now.  You shared it with me that day on the rock in the pasture.  You’ve started to step out of that dark place,” Elanna interrupted, her voice gaining strength in her sincerity.  “We share the same friends and I want that healing, too, Carcharien.  Will you not join me?” she quietly petitioned.  

“You have not seen these before today, have you?” Carcharien asked abruptly.  He lightly touched the twinned scars that curled across her shoulder, catching Elanna off guard.  

“No, I haven’t,” she said, bewildered.  Doubt crept into her heart.  Was he attempting to avoid her invitation?  Was there reason, still, to fear what their friends would do if they stood before them unguarded?   

But, the elf continued gravely, “Sometimes the thing we fear most is that which we cannot see."

Elanna looked at him, mute in confusion.  He was attempting to make a point.  What was it?  What did he want her to see?  

In silence, Carcharien backed away from her.  He unlaced his wrist guards to draw them off one by one.  Elanna eyes widened, barely breathing as the comprehension of what he would have her know hit her.  She gulped when Carcharien drew his shirt over his head and turned his back to her only to have her breath torn from her.  Thin, white, shining lines endlessly crossed the elf's back, shoulders and arms.  Shaking, she crossed the distance between them and pressed her hand to his back.  What little unmarred flesh there remained was beautifully terrible in its contrast to the maze of scars.  Elanna could not stop the tears that slipped from her eyes.  Pain and torment were the cruel artists of this design on his skin.  He must have been a captive longer than she.  Is this how she looked to him? 

“Carch,” she whispered hoarsely.  

The elf turned around.  His unmarked chest was the day to his scarred back’s night.  

“Is this what my…” she left the question hanging.  

“I don’t know,'" he simply replied.

At his answer, it struck her that Carcharien was right.  A portion of her fear stemmed from not being able to see the result of Ragnor’s handiwork with the lash and rod.  Her eyes glowed as the connection between his point and her invitation became clear to her.  Carcharien had chosen to step into that healing circle.  His first step was to unveil himself to her.  She was a part of that circle of love and acceptance as was he.  She could do no less than he.  Elanna turned and deliberately pulled the long fall of her black hair forwards, baring the part of her back that rose above the dress.  

Carcharien examined the fine, twisted ridges with a light impersonal touch.  

“These have healed well, though that is no surprise.  Belegalda and Sevilodorf put their best efforts into your care,” Carcharien commented matter-of-factly.  “And to answer your question, yes they are similar in appearance."  

Elanna turned back to the elf and smiled.  “The fear we can see is more easily vanquished.  I will wear this dress tonight, I have to."  

Carcharien paused in pulling his shirt over his head and looked at her curiously.  “You have to?” he questioned.  

“Halbarad said he wanted to court me proper tonight,” she said by way of reply.  A shy smile played on Elanna’s lips.  “He wants it to be special and so do I."  The longing shone from her eyes and colored her voice.  “I want to be beautiful for him."  

Carcharien smiled indulgently and pushed his head through the neck of his shirt.  The mortal maid was back in her place.  

“My young friend, I have seen how your Ranger looks at you.  You could never be anything but beautiful in his eyes,” Carcharien said kindly.  

Elanna colored slightly.  Halbarad certainly proved the truth of Carcharien’s words every time her eyes met his.  Maybe tonight would be the night she discovered the key to unlocking her heart to him again, just as Carcharien had unlocked that which barred him from being fully known by those who loved him.  Elanna picked up one of the wrist-guards the elf had let fall to the floor.  

“You will leave these behind tonight and wear your finest tunic regardless of how full the sleeves may be?” Elanna asked with mock severity.  

Carcharien bowed and smirked back.  “As surely as you will catch the eye of every man in that gown."  

Elanna couldn’t help but giggle.  Being the center of attention in that manner was something she could not imagine.  

“Now let’s get you back to the inn before your captain sees you and spoils the surprise,” Carcharien commanded.  He grinned and bundled Elanna in one of Pippin’s cloaks.  To her surprise, he abruptly bent and threw her over his shoulder, ignoring her startled protests.  

“I know you can walk," he said.  "But you don’t want to mar the beauty of your gown before tonight, now do you?” 

Elanna stopped her complaints, though she had one last comment.  “You are as bad as Pippin!"  

Carcharien laughed heartily.  “So I have heard.  Now, quit squirming or I will drop you in the nearest snow bank,” he admonished as he hefted her higher on his shoulder and carried her out the door.  

Chapter Five

Second Day of Yule 
Late Afternoon

The bright afternoon sun gave way to dusky twilight all too soon for Elanna.  Once Carcharien had hauled her back to the inn and she had changed out of the red dress, in the absence of toffee-nut bribed elves the hobbits had imprisoned her with them in the kitchen to help prepare more special treats for the residents and guests.  The second night of Yule brought its own special celebrations.  Elanna couldn’t help but giggle.  It was obvious that Erin and Meri were as excited about the plans Halbarad had for the evening as she was as evidenced by the frequent whispered conversations that took place in the pantry with the door shut.  They knew that her hearing, while not as keen as the elves, was much better than most mortals.  All this furtiveness only served to whet her curiosity even more.  

Halbarad had fed her keen appetite for mystery further when he peered into the kitchen at one point.  In a twinkling, Erin swooped across the kitchen from the pantry and rushed a tightly covered basket into his arms before he backed through the swinging door.  Though she had tried, Elanna could not see what the basket held and had been obliged to settle for a wink from Halbarad, a scant morsel for the meal for which her appetite begged.  Her curiosity was now tinged with more than a little impatience.  

However, a deep sigh, as pathetic as she could make it, got Elanna absolutely nowhere.  Meri and Erin would not give her the slightest hint of what he planned; feigning ignorance as if nothing had changed hands at the kitchen door.  So determined were they, that they would not even let her peek into the common room when they hustled her off to the baths.  Small hands pushed her firmly into the steamy warmth of the room, handed her soap and a towel and informed her that she was not to show her face for at least half an hour, preferably a full hour.  

“Don’t come out until you’re squeaky clean,” Meri, the general, ordered.  

“And take your time.  We want you relaxed and rested,” added her lieutenant, Erin.  

Elanna, the lowly foot soldier, gave them a sharp salute that was spoiled when the bar of soap slipped from her hand and landed on her foot, causing the girl to dance a one-footed Springle Ring before she was able to retrieve the fallen soap. 

“Well, don’t hurt yourself, for goodness sake,” cried Meri.  “How do you expect to dance … OUCH!"  

Meri’s cry was brought on by a quick poke in the side from Erin.  

“You just go on and get into that tub, missy," Erin commanded, grabbing up the other hobbit-lass' hand.  "We’ll be back in a while to fetch you.”  

She tugged on Meri’s hand and led her friend firmly away, shutting the door emphatically.  Elanna grinned, listening to Erin scolding Meri all the way down the hall.  So, then, part of Halbarad’s surprise included some kind of dancing.  Elanna smiled to herself while she readied herself for the bath.  As she ran a finger over a scar that arced over from the back side of her hip to the front, she reflected that she was glad Carcharien had convinced her to wear the red dress in spite of her worries.  'Hmm, I wonder if these ended up in front because I tried to get away from the whip,' she thought and then snorted.  'Like that would have been possible.'  

Dismissing the thought, Elanna realized that time was fast flying by.  She'd rather spend that time soaking in the warm water than shivering beside the tub.  She tested the water with her hand and decided it was not too hot though a bit warmer than what she usually preferred.  Slowly, she eased herself into the tub, taking a full minute or two before completely immersing herself.  'Mmmmm.  Maybe the heat wasn’t so bad once you get used to it.  In fact, it was rather nice.  Wash up first and then soak,' Elanna commanded herself.  She was pretty sure the hobbits had picked one of the nice soaps for her use.  With this in mind, she brought the soap up to her nose and took a big sniff.  Elanna closed her eyes against unexpected tears.  'Jasmine.'  

Elanna's scrubbing released a heady perfume into the room.  When she was reasonably sure she would pass Meri’s inspection, she then allowed herself the luxury of sinking into the relaxing warmth of the bath.  At first, her mind wandered to the evening ahead.  She smiled, her mind roaming over the possibilities of what Halbarad had in store, all of them pleasant indeed.  But soon the familiar scent insistently urged her back to when her mother was alive.  Elena would share her jasmine bath crystals with her daughter when preparing for special occasions.  She would have considered this one special.  Wearing a wistful smile, Elanna closed her eyes and, in her mind, she shared her hopes and fears for the evening with her mother.  

After a time, an eager hobbit voice in the doorway dragged Elanna out of her nostalgia.  

“Have you washed yet and did you get your nails and behind your ears?” Meri asked, firing off her questions in rapid succession.  

Suddenly reaching out of the water, Elanna impulsively heaved her washcloth at the doorway so that it hit the wall just to the right of Meri’s face with a wet slap before dropping to the floor.  The hobbit glared at the wet spot on the wall and then back at Elanna.  

“Very funny, young lady,” Meri chided, her hands on her hips attempting valiantly to suppress a grin.  She scolded Elanna as if she were a hobbit child who had been caught with her hands in the cookie jar.  “You’ve got ten minutes to finish washing up and get yourself out of that tub and dried off.  I left a robe on the chair over there for you."  

Elanna reacted a moment too late and ended up saluting the door instead of Meri.  She smiled to herself; at least the hobbit-lass hadn't slammed it.  'So I can’t be in too much trouble.'  

Still thinking of her mother, Elanna hummed a favorite tune of Elena’s.  Smiling to herself, she added the words as she stepped languorously out of the bath, her lax muscles in no hurry to obey her will.  She sat on the edge of the tub and ran her hands down the length of her hair, wringing the excess water back into the tub.  Leaving her hair to hang forward over her shoulder, she took two steps to the stool that held her towel, and then turned her back to the stool and the door while she toweled her wet hair.  

********** 

The sun was kissing the ever-darkening sky farewell with soft lips of pink and gold when Halbarad walked through the back door to the inn.  Everything is ready, he confirmed in thought.  But just to reassure himself, Halbarad ticked the items off his imagined list one by one: the table was set and ready, Meri and Erin had made some special treats, arrangements were set with Bob on fetching Elanna, and Sevilodorf had come through with two bottles of the plum wine from Nurn.  That was everything.  Now all he needed was a nice hot bath.  His dress clothes awaited him in his room, clean and freshly pressed.  Dropping his hands, Halbarad mused, 'Ahead of schedule.  What to do?  If I just wait helplessly, I'll surely go mad in anticipation.  AH!  Extra time to soak for a bit.'  

Quickly striding past the kitchen, Halbarad inhaled the mouth-watering aromas sneaking through the door.  He took a deep breath and smiled.  The hobbits were outdoing themselves tonight.  But, though tempted to detour, he walked quietly down the hall with a single purpose in mind.  So focused was he on the evening ahead of him that it took a moment for what he was looking at to register.  One of the lamps in the hallway; somehow it had missed being lit.  Wanting everything to be perfect, he paused to rectify the situation when a sweet sound brushed against his awareness, a humming voice that was quickly lifted to song.  Glancing down the hall toward the source of the music, Halbarad realized the bathing room door was ajar.  The voice could only belong to one person.  It was his Elanna singing in the bathing room.  He paused, the tune sounded familiar.  

A mischievous smile spread across his face.  If the door were open, she wouldn't be in her bath yet.  What if he poked his head in and told Elanna he was here to pick her up and pretend affront at her lack of readiness?  The thought of her smile at his jest convinced him that naught could go amiss.  His feet stopped near the partially open door and then his heart followed.  After endless moments without being able to draw a single breath had passed, he willed his stubborn feet to move and forced his gaze to turn elsewhere.  He quickly and quietly made his way to the men’s bathing room.  

********** 

Elanna lazily dried herself and then donned the robe Meri had prepared for her.  Not a moment too soon, for, true to her word, Meri was back exactly when she said she would be, and with Erin in tow.  

“Goodness gracious!  I must have done that!"  Meri exclaimed, shaking her head.  

Elanna looked at Meri, puzzled.  “Done what?”

“I forgot to shut the door hard enough.  The latch hasn’t been working right and it won’t catch unless you shut it hard.  It swings open part ways,” Meri explained, demonstrating as she spoke.  “I’ve been meaning to ask Cel to look at it."  

Erin moved into the room to take Elanna by the hand and pat it reassuringly.  “Well, no harm done.  If we’re going to do a Daisy Goodbody, we need to get moving,” Erin insisted, pulling Elanna out of the room.  “Time isn’t standing still, you know, even though you may be."  

Elanna laughed and questioned the two as they headed up the stairs.  “Would somebody mind telling me what a Daisy Goodbody is?” 

********** 

Stepping inside, Halbarad shut the door with precise care, turned and leaned his back against it.  Piping voices in the hall told him he had just escaped being caught.  The thought of the various methods the hobbits would employ to demonstrate their wrath kept his mind occupied while he undressed and climbed into the bath.  Since the lasses had promised to have the water waiting for him, it was a good thing they hadn’t caught him or he might have found himself climbing into a freezing tub.  Submerged, he unwittingly followed Elanna’s routine of scrub first and soaking second.  

Once cleaned to his satisfaction, Halbarad lifted his arms above his head and stretched.  He then slid down below the water line until only his head remained dry.  Closing his eyes, he let the relaxing warmth soak into his muscles.  His mind drifted to his plans for the evening, trying to anticipate Elanna’s reactions.  They'd worked so hard to come to this point.  'I hope she likes everything.'  

********** 
Elanna sat as patiently as she could, but after fifteen minutes of more towel drying of her hair and another fifteen minutes on a discussion of how she should wear it, she was getting restless.  

“Hmmmmm, I still think it would look elegant with it all up and just a few curls hanging down,” Meri contended, her hands buried in the black lengths of hair she held piled on Elanna’s head.  

Erin frowned in concentration and then moved Meri’s hands to allow the silken mass to fall about the girl’s shoulders.  

“That’s an awful lot of hair to pile up,” Erin declared.  “Why, she’ll end up with a headache or strain her neck or something."  Pulling aside some thin bits here and there, she continued, “What about putting these pieces into braids and then putting them altogether in the back like this?” 

Meri walked around Elanna to examine Erin’s idea from all sides.  

“Well, it is pretty that way, but…” Meri hesitated before she voiced her doubts, “She looks awfully young that way.  She’s a grown woman being courted.  She shouldn’t look like a child."  

Erin peered around one of Elanna’s shoulders and then around the other.  With a deep sigh, she let loose of the hair she had been holding and almost found herself on the floor when Elanna suddenly stood from the stool where she had been sitting.  The girl walked around the room, stretching her legs as she spoke.  

“Ladies, your intentions are appreciated but wouldn’t it be easier if you asked me what I thought?” Elanna said, smiling to make sure they knew she wasn’t angry.  

Both Meri and Erin blushed until their faces were a matched set of a lovely shade of red.  Elanna relented.  She loved both the hobbits dearly and truly enjoyed their motherly fussing.  

Giving them her sweetest smile, she suggested, “I have an idea.  What if we put part of it up and hold it there with these bits braided and those pretty pins you wanted to use, Meri?  The rest we can let hang loose."  

Elanna looked expectantly at the pair, who narrowed their eyes in concentration, picturing her idea.  At the same instant, they turned to each other and grinned.  

“Perfect!" they exclaimed in unison.  

Elanna returned to the stool and the hobbits set quickly to work.  

********** 

Warmth, relaxation and pleasant thoughts lulled Halbarad into a place between awake and asleep.  Immersed in the warm water, he let his thoughts drift outside his control.  It was here that his mind chose to ambush him with the image that, in his frustration, he had diligently tried to avoid, no, not an image, an otherworldly vision.  

She was an enchantress who, rising slippery wet from the warm waters of the mere, bound him to her with her song.  In the mellow glow of the single lamp, Elanna’s skin was warm ivory polished to a sleek sheen.  With each movement, drops of water bid farewell to the spot to which they clung and fell helplessly to follow their new course.  His eyes followed one such drop as it slid from Elanna’s shoulder.  

Completely captivated, Halbarad drank in the entrancing sight, memorizing her every curve and plane.  He started with her clear brow and the delicate line of cheek and jaw.  The graceful column of her neck supported by feminine shoulders that gave no indication of the strength that was possessed there.  The dip of her waist that led to the slender yet softly curved hips and slimly muscled thighs.  

She stepped forward to reach for the towel and Halbarad found himself fascinated with the play of her muscles.  It took little effort to imagine himself before her, his skin as warm and damp as hers.  In his mind he took her in his arms and all but crushed her in his embrace.  They devoured each other in the fierce hunger of their kiss and he slid his hands around to her back, stroking the…

********** 

Erin stood on the stool to take care of the upper lacings while Meri hooked the bottom of the bodice.  Elanna stood quietly; a little surprised that she actually looked forward to seeing her reflection in the mirror that still rested on the chair from earlier in the day.  The blanket had been draped back over it.  When they entered the room, Meri announced that she wouldn’t get the slightest peek until she was confirmed completely ready.  Elanna startled at a thump behind her that announced Erin’s departure from the stool; the two must be almost done.  Meri confirmed her guess.  

“There, that’s the last one,” Meri declared with satisfaction, brushing her hands together.  

Erin had already crossed the wood floor to the mirror, hands on the cloth waiting for the word from Meri.  Her dimples deepened when she smiled at the girl in the crimson silk.  The confidence her friend now displayed filled her hobbity heart with pride.  She had just known Celly and Bele would be able to heal Elanna and she was right.  ‘Don’t forget,’ she reminded herself, watching Meri fuss with the skirt on Elanna’s dress, ‘The loving help of her friends and family played a big part too.’ 

“She’s ready, Erin, go ahead."  

“Close your eyes first,” Erin requested, beaming happily.

As soon as Elanna complied, the hobbit-lass pulled the cloth away from the mirror and stepped away.  Both hobbits held their breath, the memory of this afternoon’s disaster still fresh in their minds.  When Elanna stood still and silent, staring at her reflection, their anxiety welled up in them until they could bear no more.  

Timidly, Erin offered, “If they still bother you, we can let all of your hair hang down and even fix some so it stays to the front to cover them."  

Elanna pulled her gaze from the mirror to look at the hobbits, now huddled together.  She clicked her tongue in sudden remorse at the nervous expressions worn by her friends, her friends who had gone to all this trouble just for her.  

Turning to them, Elanna knelt carefully, lifting her skirts.  “Oh no!  Please.  I’m sorry,” she held her arms open and, when the hobbits flung themselves at her in relief, enfolded them.  “Leave it the way it is, please.  It’s just beautiful,” she said thickly into the twin sets of golden curls.  Letting them loose so that she could see their faces, she added, “It’s just that this time, when I looked in the mirror, I saw me and not the scars.  Thank you so much for everything you’ve done."  

Gigantic hobbit smiles curved from ear to ear.  

“Do you really like it?” Meri asked, just to be certain.  

Elanna stood and spun herself in a circle, almost knocking Meri and Erin down in enthusiastic response.  

Laughing, she asked, “How could I not?"  

She took each lass by the hand and pulled them into dancing around the room, all three giggling together.  Their gaiety was interrupted by a knock on the door and a muffled voice from the other side.  

“Is she ready yet?” asked Bob.  

Smirking at each other, Erin answered for both.  “Why don’t you come in and see?"  

********** 

With his imaginary stroking of her back, the true image as she turned from him forced its way to the surface of his consciousness and abruptly shocked Halbarad from his fantasy.  The glimpse he'd inadvertently stolen into the women's bathing room was the first time Halbarad had ever seen the healed results of Ragnor’s dedicated skill with his whip.  How easy it was to forget the extensiveness of the hurt done to her when it was kept covered by her clothing.  All down her back, the thin, raised threads wound all directions, crossing over each other multiple times as they wove their way past her waist and almost to her thighs.  

Standing suddenly, Halbarad leaped from the tub at the heart wrenching thought of how self-conscious the scars would make her.  His thoughts scattered as he toweled himself dry, but two came through more clearly than the others, a keen protectiveness that vowed he would do everything in his power to make sure she was never harmed again and a mental reminder of loving compassion, that he would never show the slightest hesitation or abhorrence of any inner or outer scars that Elanna bore.  Finally, with his thoughts and body firmly under control again, Halbarad quickly donned his clothes and hurried to his room with one purpose in mind.  He had a lady to court tonight.  

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

Elanna’s gaze was riveted to the pendant in Bob’s hand.  The clear gem winked at her and the mithril chain gleamed.  

“Elanna, are you all right?” Bob asked anxiously.  “If it causes you pain, I’ll put it away.  I just thought you might want it back,” he said and closed his fingers over the necklace.  

Elanna placed her hand over Bob’s.  Finally able to tear her gaze away, she looked up to her brother’s troubled expression.  

“Nay, it causes me no pain,” she said softly.  “It’s just that, I never expected to see it again.  The last time I saw it, he was wearing it."  

Elanna’s eyes grew dark as she recalled the sight of her mother’s pendant displayed on Parcus in token of his claim of all that was hers.  The delicate chain had been too short and every move strained it against the muscles of his neck.  She wasn’t sure which she hated more, him for taking that one link to her mother’s past or, by virtue of him wearing it, making her mother a silent witness to what he had hoped to accomplish.  In her heart Elanna knew that her mother would never know what had befallen her at the raider camp, but she still felt Elena’s presence and that had been Parcus' purpose.  

“By the time I remembered he still had it, it was too late,” she continued quietly, now stroking the pendant gently in Bob’s hand.  “I asked Dilly what they did with Parcus’ body and he told me of the burning.  I assumed that he still had the necklace on and that it was lost forever.  How did you get it?” 

“Do you remember us finding you?” Bob asked, wanting to know how much she could recall before he proceeded.  

Elanna furrowed her brow in concentration.  “I remember him being killed.  I remember wanting Anoriath.  She was there and I thought I saw some of his men in there.” 

Bob grimaced.  It had been a mad and anguished moment when she had not recognized him or Halbarad.  

“Once Anoriath was with me, I couldn’t face what had happened and I retreated," she continued carefully.

Bob’s puzzled look turned grim once he recognized that of which she spoke.  “The dark place.  If it hadn’t been for Celebsul, I might have stayed there forever, lost in my own mind.  I’m glad I didn’t."  

Bob’s heart stopped for a moment when she said she might have stayed forever, unwillingly revisiting old fears.  It only started beating again with the reappearance of her loving smile.  

“I’m glad you didn’t, too,” Bob said huskily.  He cleared his throat before he answered her original question.  “After Cel asked us all to leave, I walked by the body and saw your necklace."  He smiled grimly.  He would not so much as name that devil.  “I was so furious that I almost ripped it from his neck.  But I thought that later, hopefully, you would want it back, so I didn’t.  Now I understand why you never asked for it."  

Elanna threw her arms around Bob’s waist, pinning his arm between them.  

Her words were muffled against his chest.  “I wish I would have known sooner, but I am so glad you got it back and saved it for me."  Elanna lifted her face from his chest to peer up at him with damp eyes.  “As glad as I was to find it in that package I received in Nurn."  

Stroking her hair as it hung down her back, Bob grinned happily.  “I thought you could use a little something special to remind you of home."  Bob disentangled himself from Elanna’s embrace.  “Here, turn around and let’s put this on you."  

Elanna turned and lifted her hair out of the way while Bob clasped the pendant around her neck.  This done, he stepped back and waited for her to face him again.  A thick lump made an unexpected appearance in his throat when he noticed that, on one side, the chain mimicked the path of one of her scars.  

Forcing the lump back down he said a bit gruffly, “You were already beautiful but something was missing, I think this was it."  

Elanna looked down; a blush staining her cheeks a pretty pink.  Such compliments from Bob were a rarity, making this one all the more dear.  Her reaction helped him regain his composure.  Bob lifted Elanna’s chin until her eyes met his again.  

“You know, someday you will have to learn to take a compliment and remember to say thank you,” he prompted teasingly.  

Elanna pulled away from him and put her hands on her hips in mock anger.  “It’s a good thing I’m in this dress right now or I would have to make you take back that statement."  

Bob chuckled.  “Be that as it may, I notice you did not deny my charge in any way."  

Elanna smiled sweetly at Bob.  “Brother dear, bite me!" she declared and then joined him in his laughter.  

The knock at the door startled them and, for some absurd reason known only to them, made them laugh harder.  

Halbarad's voice drifted through the door.  “Is this a private jest or will you let me in on it?" he asked.  "Or, should I say, are you going to let me in at all?”  

Bob quickly motioned to Elanna to stand behind the door where Halbarad would not be able to see her when he entered.  

Opening the door and following it with an inviting gesture, Bob said, “Yes, it’s private and no I’m not going to explain, so you might as well come in."  

Halbarad stepped into the room, looking around as he did.  

“Where’s Elanna?” he wondered aloud.  

“Right behind you,” Bob replied with a grin, eagerly awaiting his friend’s reaction.  He was not disappointed.  

Halbarad turned around to discover Elanna standing in front of the door she had closed quietly behind him.  Immediately his heart swelled with love and pride until he was sure it would burst.  The glimpse he had stolen through the open door earlier had promised much, but to find it fulfilled in such radiance was beyond such poor hopes.  Her dark hair curled about her shoulder, framing the star pendant sparkling at her breast, picking up occasional red glints from the fabric of the dress.  He knew Bob had rescued it and was pleased that she chose to wear it now in spite of what memories must come with its wearing.  Yet, she had other more permanent accoutrements that would bring those memories to the fore, reminders that were revealed by the generous neckline of the gown.  Elanna seemed not to notice and, as for Halbarad, he had already made his decision as to how he would respond.  

His thoughts were interrupted by her concerned question.  “What’s wrong?” 

Halbarad heard the hidden doubts in those two words and hastened to reassure her.  “Nay, there is nothing wrong."  He closed the small distance between them and held his hand out to her.  Only after she put her hand in his, did he continue.  “I am merely at a loss for words.  We came so close to losing you and, look at you now…  How do I tell you how beautiful you are?  How do I explain my happiness and pride in seeing the woman you have become?"  

The sheen of unshed tears brought by Halbarad’s words sparkled in Elanna's eyes.  For the first time, she did not blush and hide her eyes from a compliment, not this one.  They all knew the battles she had fought to reach this point.  Halbarad’s acknowledgement of her victory touched her heart in a way nothing else could.  Oh, how she wished she could find her love for him again.  In the face of his noble pride, she was more frustrated than ever at her inability to return his regard.  

Try though she might to hide her dismay, something of what she was thinking must have shown in her face, for Halbarad gently touched his fingers to her lips.  “Not a word," he whispered intimately.  "You will find what you seek when you least expect it.  Until then, let my love be enough for both of us."  

Biting her lip, Elanna nodded.  

“Uh, excuse me,” interrupted the forgotten brother.  “I’ll go on ahead.  Take whatever time you need and I’ll hold that spot for you, Hal,” Bob said with a wink and slipped quickly out the door.  

Elanna never took her eyes from Halbarad’s.  

“I will let it," she answered, oblivious to her brother's removal.  "But it still grieves me that I cannot -” 

Halbarad returned his fingers to her lips and silenced her protest.  

“You push too hard Elanna.  It will come,” Halbarad said gently, shaking his head a little.  

“But what if…” her words trailed off.  She could not give voice to her greatest concern.  

Halbarad smiled softly.  “What if it doesn’t come back?  Then my love, we will forge whatever bond we can between us.  It will be enough for me."  

Elanna returned a tremulous smile, though her heart ached for him.  He was willing to live with the idea that she might never love him in that way again, that they might never be more than close friends.  And he declared this all with a smile.  

'Dear Eru, help me,' she prayed silently.  'I want to return his love.  If I cannot find it the way it was before, then lead me to where I can find it anew.'  

“I know Bob said to take our time, but I think, knowing your brother, his imagination may run away with him if we take too long,” Halbarad said with a wink as he held out his arm.  “May I escort you to the party, my lady?” 

Elanna took his arm and hoped Eru would answer her prayer.  

“Yes, you may, my good Captain."  

********** 

Elanna abruptly stopped a foot from the door.  The rise and fall of voices, mingled with the occasional eruption of laughter and merry song of old friends and new, burst into the hall from the other side of the door.  The common room was full with residents and travelers happily trapped at the inn by roads clogged with snow.  Joyful though the noise may be, yet Elanna stared at the door, unable to take another step.  Her pulse pitted itself in a race with her breath to see which was faster.  The blood pounded in her veins, drowning out every other sound.  Light-headed from the lack of air, she could faintly hear someone calling out her name as if from a great distance.  A face filled the field of her vision, its features blurred.  She could only discern dark hair and the eyes, a brilliant blue-green.  

Halbarad stopped when Elanna did, at first puzzled by her still silence.  He shook her gently by the shoulders and called her name, but received no response for his efforts.  This was the first time in weeks that she had retreated into herself, the first time since the healing with Belegalda and Celebsul.  He pushed aside his concern and concentrated on the healer’s instructions for such an event.  

What triggered her this time?  He glanced over his shoulder.  'The door, she’s staring at the door.  But it's not the door.  The party, all the people?'  He bent his knees and wrapped his arms around Elanna; she was stiff as board.  Holding her tightly in his arms, he straightened his legs and lifted her unyielding body from the floor.  Though not heavy, her rigidity made walking difficult, but walk he did.  Gently, Halbarad carried Elanna to the stairway and carefully set her down on the first step.  Despite the extra height, she was nowhere near being eye to eye with him, but the few extra inches made it easier for him to examine her face.  

Patiently, he called her name, over and over, and gently massaged the cold taut cables in her shoulders until they softened into warm muscle beneath his hands.  After a few minutes, his efforts were rewarded in full.  The dull stare focused.  She could see him.  

The pounding in her ears faded as pulse and breathing returned to their normal pace.  She looked around, the wooden walls, the steps beneath her feet…  How did she get to the stairway?  Panic rose in her throat but a gentle, commanding voice overrode it.  

“Look at me Elanna.  Do you see me?” 

She concentrated on Halbarad’s voice and the terror melted away.  

“Aye, I see you,” she said, returning his gaze, finally knowing him for who he was.

“What is it?” 

“I can’t go in there, I can’t," she protested, shaking her head in negation.

Without her knowledge, her hand crept up to her shoulder and rested over the scars there.  The gesture touched him and told him what it was she truly feared.  

“Elanna, all who are in the common room are your friends.  You have nothing to fear from them or be ashamed of in front of them.  Not them, not me."  

Carcharien had said much of the same thing earlier, but doubt still worried holes into her courage.  Elanna searched Halbarad’s eyes and found only truth and compassion there.  She could always find love in his eyes, his voice.  How she longed to return that warmth.  But that part of her heart was still closed to her.  She had yet to find the key to open it.  If only … 

Elanna took a deep breath and let it out slowly.  “You’re right.  I’m sorry, I thought it wouldn’t happen again."  

“Shhh," he whispered.  "It doesn’t matter.  Only tonight matters."  Halbarad gave her a rakish grin.  “I am the lucky man with the honor of escorting a beautiful woman, in a gown that only enhances her beauty, to a Yuletide party where I will earn the envy of every man there."  

As Halbarad sketched a courtly bow and could only grin in relief at Elanna’s giggle of delight.  Standing upright again, at a sudden inspiration, Halbarad turned his gaze to the landing above his head; sure enough, Milo had been here too.  He pointed to the gray-green leaves of the plant hanging above them and Elanna followed his eyes.  

“Milo has been busy with the mistletoe,” Halbarad observed lightly and dropped his eyes to meet Elanna’s.  “We’ve both seen it and as such we are bound by its rules.  I believe, my lady, that I now owe you a kiss, with your permission, of course."  

Elanna’s heart beat a little faster.  Twice before they had attempted a kiss.  And twice before, the shadows crept back, stealing the blood from her bones and leaving her cold, frozen and fearful.  Twice before, Halbarad comforted her, telling her it was all right, too soon, and not her fault.  Would this one end the same way?  But his eyes drew her in; promising such tenderness that she could not refuse.  She nodded.  

Halbarad took her face into his hands; she could feel the warmth soaking into her skin.  He gently pressed his lips to hers.  She barely had time to notice the grateful absence of shadows before the kiss ended.  A pang of regret struck her heart with a metallic click, not unlike the sound of a key in a lock.  Passion spread its honeyed heat through her heart, spilling into her veins.  

Elanna’s eyes widened in awe.  At first, dismayed, Halbarad thought her fear had claimed her again.  But a familiar something made him pause. 

“Elanna?” he asked in whisper, barely able to hope.

Trembling fingers touched his face, tracing his features as if seeing them for the first time.  

“It’s you!  I remember!" she murmured in amazement.  

A light grew in her eyes until it illuminated her whole face.  The last time he saw that light was … 

“Hal?” 

“Yes."  He hardly breathed for fear the slight movement would cast this moment to the floor.

Tears shimmered in her eyes.  “I love you.  I remember.  I can feel it.  I love you."  

Halbarad’s knees weakened beneath him and he grabbed at the wall.  The words he had begun to think he would never hear, how sweet they sounded coming from her lips.  He could not stop the moisture from flooding his eyes and his throat from closing.  So long, he had waited so long.  Holding his gaze, Elanna saw his tears.  They pooled in his eyes and one spilled over onto his cheek.  She brushed it away with her finger, knowing what she wanted now; she wanted to remember … everything.  

She slid her hands into the silk of his hair.  She pulled him to her and slowly pressed her lips to his, how soft and warm his lips were!  She felt his arms wrap around her, drawing her to him.  And she returned the embrace, leaning toward him in her effort to be even closer.  

Their kiss deepened.  Elanna felt his hand tracing arabesques up her back, each one adding to a hunger that would not be appeased; that only left her wanting more.  Though how much more her heart could hold she didn’t know, surely there had to be a limit, but if there was, she had yet to reach it.  Then his hand reached the marred skin that lay bared by the low back of her dress.  His fingers did not falter at the raised lines that crossed the open flesh.  The heat of his touch drew a gasp from her, startling her from the kiss.  Elanna reveled in the warmth of his hand and buried her head in the crook of his neck as Halbarad continued to hold her and stroke her back, his touch igniting a matching heat deep inside her.  This was her love, as real as the stairs upon which she stood, not a dream, nor a nightmare.  He held her cradled in his loving embrace as she had dreamed of so often in Melin’s house.  

“We should go in.  They’ll be wondering where we are," he murmured low into the crown of her hair.  

Elanna lifted her head from his shoulder.  “Not yet, please."  

“Elanna, I’ve waited for this moment too, but I don’t want to take it too far and have the shadows spoil it for you.  Not now, not after you’ve remembered,” Halbarad reasoned cautiously.  

But he made the mistake of looking into her eyes, and was hooked.  It only took her impassioned whisper ‘Please, kiss me as you did then’ and he was lost.  He knew the August morning of which she spoke, and remembering her pledge to return to him, Halbarad loosened the reins of his self-control as much as he dared.  He swept her up in a powerful embrace and poured some of his pent up passion and yearning into his kiss.  Elanna was washed away in his hunger and his longing, and it happened again; her world fragmented deliciously around her, each moment, and each sensation taking on a life of its own.  

Her hands savored the velvety softness of his deep green tunic, a contrast to the hardness of the muscle beneath it.  She twined the silken strands of his hair around her fingers.  His arms encircled her, and his loving caress brought forth indescribable sensations that took her breath away and fanned the flames of her desire.  She could no longer tell where her heartbeat ended and his began.  She thought she could bear no more until she felt his kiss on her cheek.  He brushed her hair back and kissed the tender hollow spot on her neck, just under the delicate line of her jaw.  Elanna’s hands tightened convulsively and her back arched as a husky cry was torn from her.

Halbarad thought he would never again taste anything as sweet as her kiss.  Her slim body next to his only spurred him on.  His fingers did not shrink from the thin ridges on her back, nay if anything, he saved his gentlest caress for that place of which she was most anxious.  His mind vainly cautioned him to not let his ardor take him too far.  Reluctantly, he lifted his lips from hers only to find that his mouth had a will of its own.  He could not stop.  He tenderly kissed her cheek and then her neck, inhaling the heady fragrance of jasmine.  At her cry he pulled her closer.  

“No more, love.  I can take no more,” Halbarad exclaimed hoarsely, breaking their embrace.  “I am only a man and my self control has limits.  Aye, and your kiss has tested it sorely."  

Her voice was low and full of the ardent fervor he created within her.  “My kiss! “ she exclaimed breathlessly in return.  “What of yours, Sir Ranger!  You dare to awaken my heart and take away my very breath.  Then you cease and I am left to yearn for what should come next, that moment of becoming one heart."  It was a testament to the depth of her response that her fingers shook as Elanna traced his brow, the planes of his cheeks and the curve of his lips.  “A time I now desire beyond all reason.  I still fear the shadows that could arise, but I would brave that fear to have that moment with you."  

Halbarad pulled her close again, whispering in her ear, “Aye my precious love, a moment, nay, a night that I desire to spend with you in my arms.  I promise you will have that moment and together we will chase away any shadow that dares to linger.”  He softly kissed her ear, then pulled back and gazed tenderly into her eyes.  “But now is not the time nor the place.  My vow has been kept, we shared the first taste of passion and was it not sweet?” he asked and she answered him with a kiss.  

“Aye, you have kept your word and this taste has only whet my hunger.  So be fair warned, Sir Ranger, I will hold you to that promise,” she said softly, accepting that this moment must end but it would come again.  

The open invitation in her eyes pulled Halbarad in.  An invitation he dared not accept or what little self-control he had left would break.  He drew back.  No, it was time to go and join their friends.  Hopefully, he would have a few minutes before he saw Bob.  The woman whose kiss had the ability to set him afire was still the man's little sister.  Halbarad wasn’t too sure how ready Bob was to see his sister as a woman with desires of her own.  Better to leave that introduction for another time.  

“Shall we, my lady?" he asked, offering her his arm with a loving smile.  

“Yes, I’m ready now,” she replied, her eyes shining as she took his arm and Halbarad began to escort her to the common room.  

They did not even make it through the door before Bob came bursting through.  

“I was wondering where you two had gotten to,“ he said, suspiciously eyeing Elanna’s flushed countenance and sparkling eyes.  

Elanna let go of Halbarad’s arm in order to wrap her own arms around her brother’s waist.  She squeezed him tightly and peered up into his face.  

“I remembered, Bob!  I found it!  I love him!" she exclaimed jubilantly.  

Gazing at the joy on his sister's face and seeing it mirrored in his friend's, any misgivings Bob may have had about Halbarad and Elanna’s doings quickly evaporated.  Did it really matter if it was Halbarad’s kiss that gave her back the thing she wanted most?  Nay, this was the man who loved his sister as much as Bob did himself and now that she once again loved Halbarad in return, Bob had his family back.  If only Anardil were here, then the holiday would be truly perfect.  

“Let’s get you two in," he urged abruptly.  "I don’t know how much longer I can keep the others from that table,” Bob insisted with a smile, holding the door open for the two people closest to his heart.  
Chapter Six

Second Day of Yule 
Evening

Her love's warm hand clasping hers as they wound their way through the common room, Elanna battled to keep her eyes closed, beside herself with curiosity.  What kind of surprise could Halbarad have waiting that required her to keep her eyes shut?  She slipped upstream through voices that flowed around and then past her, occasionally brushing against someone’s arm or clothing.  A strong hint of sulfur from the bartender wafting past her confirmed that the bar was behind her.  The front door closed with a loud clunk, shutting out the bracing whirl of wind that threw softly rattling ice and snow against the windowpanes.  Overheated sap in the great logs of firewood whined in the humming flames until a loud pop from the hearth startled a small jump from Elanna and a reassuring squeeze from Halbarad.  By the sound she guessed that Halbarad must have led her almost to the big windows at the front of the Troll.

“Just a few more steps,” Halbarad reassured her, guiding Elanna by her shoulders.  “There," he prompted when he stopped.  "Now you can look."  

Elanna opened her eyes, but her glimpse of what lay before her soon blurred beyond recognition when her eyes immediately filled.  The light from the beeswax candles danced and shimmered in her tears.  Snowy white linen blanketed the tabletop, adorned by a pair of beautiful silver candlesticks, the small flames atop the tapers twisting in the light breeze brought by her passage.  Bits of pine and holly lay lightly in an intricate design around the candlesticks as if they had been caught up in a dance she did not recognize and had stopped in place, frozen with the sudden cessation of music.  The Troll’s best dishes sat stacked in place, flanked by silver whose design matched that of the candlesticks.  

'Where did all this silver come from?' she wondered.  Like so many tiny moths, flows of snowflakes flung themselves to a watery end upon the candle flames reflected in the glass of the night-darkened windows.  Flickering rainbows danced in the multi-faceted crystal glasses that she hadn’t known the Troll owned.  Two bowls and several platters overflowed with every delicacy imaginable.  The aroma that wafted from them set her stomach to growling, reminding her that lunch was a long time ago.

Elanna turned to Halbarad.  “It’s beautiful.  You did all this?” she asked in a hushed voice.

Halbarad nodded but acknowledged, “I couldn’t have done it without the help of our friends.”  He grinned, going on to state enigmatically, "And a willingness to eat my words." 

He had sworn everyone who had helped him to secrecy.  Pulling out a chair for the puzzled young woman, Halbarad wondered if he would ever tell her the whole of it.  It had cost him most of a month’s pay to find, purchase and arrange for delivery of most of the items needed for tonight; from the special ingredients Meri required for her baking to the cut-glass, crystal flutes that came from Minas Tirith.  But, one item required from him more than just well earned coins.  That one he had cost him his pride as well.  But the enchanted look on Elanna's face was worth every ounce of crow he had forced between his lips.  Seeing it light her face, he would have gladly paid the price twice over and more.

After seating her, Halbarad joined her and waited on Elanna as if she were a queen, asking her if she wanted more to eat, refilling her glass and, when they weren’t talking about vital matters such as the state of affairs in Harad, he looked at her with glowing eyes and a tender smile that made her heart flip.  Acutely aware of his every move, the slightest brush of his hand against hers sent tingling chills up and down her spine.  To have her love reawakened and her passion ignited all at once, and so quickly, was, at times, almost more than she could stand.  So much time lost, so much life to make up.

When she finally fell silent, overwhelmed by the thought, Halbarad studied her over the rim of his wineglass.  Throughout the dinner, he had noticed her distraction and the telltale sheen in her eyes that glowed in the candlelight every so often.  From Carcharien, he had heard of her trepidation concerning the dress and what it revealed.  Indeed, he had seen the evidence of her fear himself.  As much as he would wish it away if he could, Halbarad had to admit that he was indebted to this very same terror.  It was by this strange agent that they had been led to the stairs, the mistletoe and his heart‘s desire.  Now, examining her, he worried that the emotional ups and downs of the day had been too much for her.  He set the glass carefully atop the white linen. 

“What is it, Elanna?” Halbarad asked tenderly, taking her hand and stroking the back with his thumb.

Elanna tried to speak, but everything she wanted to say halted helplessly, the flow of words stuck in the lump in her throat.  She could only shake her head mutely.

“My love?” 

He leaned closer to her, his breath mixing with hers.  Elanna raised her free hand to his face and she traced his features much as she had done earlier on the stairs.  Over the weeks since her return to The Burping Troll, how many times had she begged Eru to help her regain her love for this man?  She'd lost count; each time dismayed that the answer had not made itself known to her.  But, now it was as if her Creator had withheld his responses only to answer each and every prayer all at once, filling her with her newfound love over and over again until she could hold no more.

“I am so happy, painfully so,” she whispered to Halbarad.  A tremor traveled from voice to hand.  “I feel as if all the love we missed has filled my heart to the point it could burst at any moment.  It’s almost more than I can bear.”

Halbarad captured her hand in his and, turning his head, kissed the palm and then slowly kissed the tip of each finger until the shivering stopped.

“The love we missed,” he repeated.  He too had thought of the time they had lost.  

The most desperate of that time had been the weeks before the healing when they were unsure if her mind would survive the torture she had endured.  To lose her without ever rediscovering the love they had shared!  Yet, to dwell on that missed time would be to become snared in a watery trap of grief for what was lost.  Yesterday's tide had swept the beach clean, dragging the day's debris deep under cold midnight currents away from light and life, where he was content to leave them lie.  He had no desire to attempt to swim against that tide.

“Our love has known rough waters, my love, and yes, the tempest in Nurn blew us off course for a time, we can’t change that,” Halbarad admitted reluctantly before he brought her hands together and sheltered them in his own.  “But we’ve found our way clear again.  Aye, it is a slightly different course than what we had originally set out on.  Still, is not our life together found in the voyage, not the final port?”

Elanna smiled warmly, “And the safety of the voyage is dependent on the skill of the ship’s pilot.  I guess I chose well … Captain.”

They laughed easily together at her play on words; Halbarad again touched by her faith in him.  He withdrew his hand to pick up his glass and touch it to the side of hers with a lucid peal.

“As long as we stand together, we can weather any storm," he toasted.  "Here‘s to enjoying the voyage regardless of the condition of the sea."

The crystalline music of the glasses and the claret tint the wine lent to the clear glass captured Elanna's attention.  She contemplated the liquid as she swirled it around in her glass.  There was something very familiar about it.

“I may be mistaken,” she said thoughtfully, “but this plum wine, why I would swear it was Frewulf’s.”

Halbarad grinned at the memory of the effort it took to obtain it.  “Then you would be right.  It is Frewulf's of Nurn's.  ‘Twas difficult, but I managed to acquire some.”

“And just how difficult was it?” Elanna asked, her curiosity piqued by the odd smile he wore.

Halbarad shook his head and winced at the memory.  His concern for Sevilodorf’s safety before she left for Pelargir had crowded out every other rational thought from his mind.  He wasn’t trying to be obstinate or overbearing, he truly considered Sevilodorf his friend, not just a charge or even just his friend Anardil’s beloved.  He never should have used that argument with Sev.  The verbal explosion that caused should have been heard from Russ’s lodge to Henneth Annun.  

His timing could not have been worse.  It was unfortunate he had not asked about the possibility of obtaining the wine before he had set the Rohirrim woman's back up.  After that, it had taken every bit of politic persuasion he had possessed to convince Sevilodorf that only Frewulf’s plum wine would do.  She had reminded him that, at the time, Elanna's thoughts and emotions had been slowly sliding into chaos.  Sevilodorf hadn't been sure that a distinctive regional wine from southern Mordor was something the young woman would welcome.  It was only his solemn promise that he would save it for Yule, and then only if Elanna was up to it, that she grudgingly accepted the assignment, and that only after exacting payment.

“I assume that smile means you’re not going to tell me?” Elanna asked and Halbarad, startled from his reflections, nodded in response.  “Well, since you won’t answer that question then I have another for you.”

Elanna licked her lips nervously.  She had wanted to ask him this for over a week now, but always lost her courage at the last minute.

“It’s been almost two months since the healing and,” she paused.  “ I, I want to resume my duties.”

Halbarad’s heart dropped to his feet.  He had known this day would come but had held out a foolish hope that her experience in Nurn would lead her to reconsider.  'Idiot,' he thought.  'She’s her father’s daughter and her life as a Ranger was the one thing she had left to hold on to when she lost all else.'  He knew better than to try and change her mind, but that didn’t mean he had to give in easily.

“You’re right.  You’ve healed in mind and body.  I will send a recommendation on to the Prince, but you will need to spend some time brushing up on your skills first,” he conceded, setting his glass down.  Noting the blank look on her face, Halbarad went on to explain.  “It’s only natural for a blade to rust and lose its edge when it has not been used for some time.  You will need to regain your edge and it may not happen as quickly as you would like.”

Halbarad wondered why his words brought such a large smile to her face instead of the disappointment he had expected.  Watching her narrowly, he was suddenly struck by the feeling there was something to this request that he was missing, something that had been under his nose all along.

“I agree and I know you would want to make sure my mind would remain clear under pressure."  Elanna's smile faded as she continued soberly, “Anoriath warned me with the story of how badly she reacted when she and Elros first sparred.  I’m aware that I could face a similar difficulty.”

Halbarad’s face twisted, shaping his features into a grimace of painful regret.  He remembered another, later, practice encounter that had ended in confusion, remorse and a bloody nose.  Anoriath had sported a swollen nose and black eye for days after that.  He still carried the shame of that encounter when Elros finally revealed what had occurred during the first time his friend had sparred with his sister.  He had unwittingly mimicked Parcus’ attack against her and Anoriath had become so lost in memory that she fought back with full force.  Only Elros’ rapid assessment of the situation had kept him from being strangled by the woman.  'And what kind of memories would visit Elanna during serious sparring?' he wondered.

“Hal?” Elanna urged softly.  “Do not worry yourself on my account.  I already know the answer to how I would react.”

Halbarad’s surprise registered on his face in the form of raised brows and a steady, expectant stare.

“I’ve been working with anyone who would work with me since the middle of November,” she informed him and raised a finger as she ticked off her list.  “Firnelin has taken me hunting to help with my bow work.  Anbarad has been helping with hand-to-hand combat, Carcharien with the sword and Dimereg is teaching me knife fighting.  He said that, with my size, there are ways I could use it to my advantage.”

Halbarad sat there staring at her blankly for a moment, stunned and flipping wildly through memories of the past few weeks.  This is what he had been missing.  All the pieces suddenly fell into place; the amount of time she had been spending with the elves, the times he had gone to her workshop to find the Balrog tending the kiln with no idea of where Elanna had gone.  Halbarad remembered the dark hulk of a demon saying that she would be back soon; she was never gone for too long.  Never gone for too long.  Halbarad chuckled and shook his head ruefully.  So she had made a habit of it, then?  He should have known.  

“You do realize I will need to verify this for myself?" he responded.  "Just to be sure you have reached the correct level of prowess and, of course, make sure you haven’t picked up any bad habits,” he added mischievously.

Before she could stop herself, she responded to Halbarad’s teasing the way she had always had.  She stuck out her tongue at him.  In their amusement, neither of them noticed the silver-haired elf that appeared at their table until he spoke.

“I’m not sure that is terribly convincing of your fitness to return to duty,” Celebsul remarked dryly.

Elanna glared at Halbarad, who unwisely assumed that Celebsul was allying himself with the captain and so bestowed a smug smile on the girl, a tactic that the elf recognized immediately.

“As far as verification goes, Captain, I am willing to give you my word that Elanna would meet any reasonable standard you would care to set," the elf went on to state coolly.

“I should have known you were involved too,” Halbarad commented ruefully, patently ignoring Elanna’s renewed jab of her tongue into thin air.

“Not involved as the others were.”  Celebsul smiled serenely.  “I was merely a spectator.“

Halbarad threw back his head in laughter.  "Ha!  A case of Cherry B says you are never a mere anything.”

With a tilt of his head and a smirk more reminiscent of the apprentice than the master, Celebsul asked, “How arrogant would it make me if I told you there was a case in the cellar with my name on it?”  

“Does this mean you’ll recommend in my favor then?” Elanna asked, impatiently tapping her fingers against the crystal glass in her hand.

Halbarad contemplated the eager, if somewhat impetuous woman next to him.  Celebsul’s readiness to vouch for her weighed heavily in her favor.  If she had been any other Ranger, he would have agreed in a heartbeat, and in all fairness, he could do no less for her.  He would, however, make sure he strongly recommended that she be assigned to the Troll.  He let the silence linger just long enough to remind her that lover or not, he was still her captain.

“After the holidays, I will draft a recommendation and send it to Emyn Arnen.  Will that be soon enough?” he asked with an impish grin.

Sitting rigidly on the edge of her chair, Elanna’s eyes, alight with happiness, darted from man to elf and back.

“Oh yes,” she exclaimed breathlessly.  “Did you hear, Celly, I’ll get to be a Ranger!”

Celebsul lifted a single eyebrow in a question mark.

“You mean to tell me, you were not a Ranger before?”

“Celly!"  Elanna squealed while giggling helplessly.

“Surely it couldn’t be that funny!" commented a new voice, drawing their eyes from the one elf to another.

“Trust me, it's not,” replied Halbarad, standing to clasp Carcharien’s wrist, never once glancing down.

Carcharien did not cringe or ignore Halbarad’s gesture but returned it with a cool certitude.  Elanna’s giggles tapered off.  The elf had kept his end of their bargain.  His wrist guards had been left behind, allowing the loose sleeves of his fine silk shirt to glide off his wrists with his movements.  Carcharien made no effort to hide the scars that were now exposed with every gesture.  Their eyes met and Elanna raised her glass imperceptibly in a silent salute.

“Aerio is looking for you,” Carcharien prompted, turning to Celebsul.  “I promised him that I would find and tell you."  

Turning back to Halbarad and Elanna, the elf continued, “Now that I have fulfilled my duty, I can turn my attention to more important matters.  I believe the Balrog has just tapped a new keg of ale."  Carcharien bowed and after a quick grin and wink to Elanna, put his arm around Celebsul and led him away.  

The two watched Celebsul stop before the bar with Carcharien, joining Bob at his post guarding the spirits lodged there.  The elder elf appeared to have asked the Ranger a question to which the man shook his head in reply.  A hand was laid on Bob’s shoulder while Celebsul spoke to him.  Whatever the elf told him seemed to help only while he was at the man's side.  For, as soon as the elf walked away with Carcharien, who had acquired his ale, Bob went back to whatever held his interest deep within his mug.

“Bob seems to be a little out of sorts,” Halbarad remarked, his voice soft and pensive.  The usually gregarious man had not moved from his seat the whole night.  

Elanna glanced again to the bar where her brother sat on a stool, appearing to be lost in thought.  'Or something in his mug has hypnotized him,' she thought.

She turned her gaze back to Halbarad, a worried frown wrinkling her brow.  “He does and I‘m not sure why, but I believe he would confide in you, as always.”

The lines at the corners of Halbarad’s eyes crinkled up as he smiled.  Glancing over her shoulder as he stood, he kissed her on the cheek.

“I won’t be long,” he promised.

Concerned by Bob’s uncharacteristic quietness, Halbarad joined him at the bar, pulling up a stool and nodding at the Balrog who huffed an affectionate puff of smoke in greeting.  Before he could even say the word, the Balrog had an ale ready for him in the maroon mug that dripped aquamarine icicles from its rim, his mug, the one Elanna had made for him in Nurn.  Halbarad glanced over at the man.  Aye, Bob was using his indigo one, his gift from his sister.  

Waiting out Bob's silence, Hal let his eyes roam over the shelves behind the bar.  One row held ale mugs, ivory background emblazoned with a troll in the midst of a glorious burp.  Elanna had made good use of the small pottery shed they had constructed upon their return from Lake Nurnen.  These in particular were from the first batch that had been pulled from the stone kiln.  

Halbarad smirked a little in amusement.  The roar of the fire through the cold nights had surprised and intrigued him, but much less so than the Balrog, who had stared at the white hot glow that seeped through the cracks between dark stone as if he were gazing at a long lost love.  The idea that intense heat and flame could be used to create, rather than destroy had boggled their bartender.  The demon of shadow and flame had pinned Elanna with questions until, in an attempt to stem the flow of unanswerable queries about temperature, flux, and resistance, the poor woman had finally suggested that he check the pottery inside the kiln himself.  At her answer, the Balrog had blinked over a slow spreading smile.  It turned out to be a mutually beneficial arrangement since Elanna preferred to keep her eyebrows in their original shape, unlike the potter who had taught her the skills.  The Balrog was a natural.  It bothered him not at all.

In that first batch, Elanna had also made some plates and bowls, but not nearly enough for everyday use, according to Meri.  They were stored in the pantry until enough pieces had accumulated; though according to whose standards were still unsure.  It took at least a full month between raw clay and hard stoneware, but Elanna was constantly in the shed.  It was only a matter of time.  

His gaze lifted to the top shelf where the mugs Elanna had made as gifts for her friends resided.  His eye was first drawn to Anoriath’s, and rightly so.  The vivid red, yellow and orange made the mug appear to be on fire, a passionately alive piece, much like its owner.  The one next to it was a deep blue ringed with faint ripples of slightly lighter shades of blue.  It made Halbarad think of a pond, deceptively still but with a hidden depth that could only be found by those willing to take the time to plunge below the surface.  Halbarad smiled, a better description of Elros he could not think of.  Elanna had captured it perfectly in the mug.  

Enough time had passed Halbarad decided.  He turned to Bob.  The Ranger was staring deeply into his mug with his elbows resting on the bar, oblivious to the merry-making around him, as if he would find an answer to the meaning of life in its depths.  He had not even acknowledged Halbarad’s presence, a sign that something was amiss.

Halbarad clasped Bob by the shoulder and, giving him a small shake, asked, “What troubles you my friend?”

Bob slowly raised his eyes from his almost empty mug, the gray iris darkened by shadows.  'Clouds before the rain,' reflected Halbarad.

Struggling to put his thoughts into words, Bob finally muttered, “Nothing important … that is … it is important but it is my trouble and not yours.”

Halbarad eyes narrowed slightly.  He had an idea of what ailed his friend.  

“Elanna?” he shrewdly guessed.  “Elanna and me?”

Bob grimaced.  Was he really that easy to read?  

“Yes.  And no," he explained reluctantly.  "I mean it's not that I disapprove or anything like that."  Bob’s tongue twisted and tripped over itself, unable to make himself plain.  “It's just that, she’s my sister, my baby sister, at that.  I remember diapering and burping her, for pity's sake.  And she‘s been through so much.  It’s not that I’m not happy for you both, I am, it's -” He faltered.

Halbarad interrupted, keeping his voice as low and empathetically private as he could, “Bob, you don’t need to explain.  Don't forget, I have a sister too.”

Bob couldn’t stop the grin that quickly spread across his face.  Long ago, Halbarad had given him an earful when her brother first heard of Anoriath's venture into the forbidden.  If Bob remembered correctly, Halbarad was fit to be tied, indignantly repeating the entire conversation with Anoriath for him word for word.  Bob snorted, remembering.  What was it Hal had said?

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

“No sister of mine is going to conduct herself in this manner!"  Halbarad had thundered, standing eye to eye with his sister.

“Tell me Halbarad," Anoriath hissed, her hands firmly planted on her hips.  "Just how did I become a 'camp follower' as you so quaintly put it?  Because I chose to seek out the same pleasure you assume that only a man has a right to?”

“You CHOSE to seek this out?" Halbarad exclaimed.  This was news to him.

Anoriath threw up her hands in exasperation and backed off to fold her arms across her chest and glare at her brother narrowly.  She was a woman nearing the end of her third decade.  She was around men all the time and had remained unmarried.  What did he think was going to happen?

"Do you have any idea how unseemly it is for a maid to do such a thing?  It is one thing to assume that you were seduced-” Halbarad sputtered to a stop, utterly appalled that, on top of finding out that his sister was no longer "pure" as he had put it, it was Anoriath and not the man in question who had arranged the assignation.

“Seduced?" she exclaimed, surprised.  Anoriath's brow rose to a sardonic tilt while her words dripped with a honeyed sweetness.  "Why brother dear, I do believe you still hold me to the standards of maidenhood.  I would have thought by now you would have learned differently.  I'm afraid that you are slow to see what has always been in plain view before your eyes.  As adorable as that sentimental illusion is that you're holding onto so desperately, I’m afraid I’m going to have to shatter it.  You see Halbarad, this was most definitively not my first - ummmm - tryst, shall we say.”

Halbarad stood frozen, stunned to speechlessness.  This was not some loose woman of the city that took money in exchange for her company, this was his sister, the woman closest to his heart and she sounded pleased that she had … He drew a quick hard breath.

“And you dare to wonder why I compare your behavior to that of a trollop’s?” he demanded.

Anoriath angrily snorted at him, her hands back on her hips.  “Really?" she demanded.  "And tell me, Hal, what name would you use for yourself?  While you’re railing at me for something that is, to be honest, none of your business, tell me that you‘ve never availed yourself of a willing woman’s invitation to share her bed?”  She glared at him, daring him.

Halbarad’s chest swelled, puffing with righteous fury.  “Any dalliance I’ve had in the past has nothing to do with your -” He stopped abruptly and gritted his teeth, to put a name to what she had done aloud was unthinkable.  He inhaled sharply and chose a word.  “…behavior and is altogether a completely different matter.”

“And why is that, Hal?” asked Anoriath mockingly, flushed with sudden fury.  “Because you’re a man and I’m a woman?”

“Aye," he exclaimed loudly.  "You cannot conduct yourself in this manner and expect to retain any sense of honor among men,” Halbarad said grimly, grinding his teeth.  Why did she always have to make things so difficult, refusing to adhere to standards of behavior, whether transmitted by the society in which they lived or her family?  Even a child could have told her why it was different.  

Anoriath stared open-mouthed at him.  He truly believed in the rightness of his position.  'Oh Halbarad,' she thought wearily, 'I no longer need you to take Father’s place anymore.'  Her anger softened a bit under the thought.  Halbarad had stepped in after their father died, which had been fortunate for her or else she would not be wearing the silver star that adorned her breast.  Only Halbarad had believed in and encouraged her.  Now he just needed to learn to let her go and be her own person, as all parents learn.  She sighed.

“Did it not occur to you that I don’t care a flying fell beast about that kind of honor or respect?” she asked him softly.  “I don’t plan to marry any more than you or Bob or Elros or Anardil do.  If our mother waits for grandchildren, she is in for a grave disappointment because I, for one, have no intentions of providing her with any.”

“You don’t plan to marry!"  Halbarad echoed her words in disbelief.  “You are just going to seek your pleasure with whatever man takes your fancy without a single thought of ever marrying any of them?”

Poor Halbarad.  The concept of a free woman appeared to be a difficult one for him to grasp.  He looked so thoroughly frustrated with and befuddled by her that Anoriath felt her lips twitch.  Try though she might, biting down on the inside of her cheek was of no help.  

Still irritated, Anoriath’s sudden burst of laughter caught Halbarad off guard.  Though it dispelled her anger, it did little to soothe his ill temper.  He snorted in disgusted exasperation and turned away briefly.  

“Hal, if you could only hear yourself,” Anoriath finally said as she struggled to contain her laughter.

Halbarad’s whole being was as stiff as his speech.  “I fail to see why my concern for your honor is so amusing to you.  I must warn you, if you insist on this course of action, be prepared to be propositioned by all and every man you meet.  I can only protect you so far."  He thought perhaps this warning might, if nothing else worked, control her behavior.  

Anoriath snorted, wryly amused.  "In that case, dear brother, you may wish to protect them instead, as they may find that certain body parts vital to their plans have suddenly gone missing."

Halbarad exploded in shock, "ANORIATH!"  

Chuckling, Anoriath threw her arms around her brother’s unyielding body.  He grunted in exasperation and pulled futilely away, turning his head.

Anoriath clucked her tongue at his intransigence.  “Forgive me, I know you only speak out of love,” she said, pulling her head back and attempting to catch his eye.  “When it comes to my honor, I am not and will not be promiscuous, that I can promise you."  She snorted softly, thinking of her frustrations with the opposite gender.  "For that matter, I'm not sure I'd have the opportunity, much less the inclination.  As for the respect of others, those who would judge me immoral are not the kind whose opinions matter to me."  She sighed and sobered, waiting until she caught his eye before speaking again.  "At this moment there is only one opinion that does.  Do I have your respect Halbarad?”  

Gazing at the face of the most important woman in his life thus far, Halbarad wrestled with his love for Anoriath and his ideas of honor and propriety.  He hated to admit that she was right; but if he followed his own actions to their logical conclusion, it was a truth he could not avoid.  He had aided and encouraged her in her desire to follow his footsteps into service as a Ranger.  It had not been an easy road for her and she had had to fight for the respect of the men she served with.  Now she was a seasoned warrior and recognized as such.  She had long ago earned the right to lead a soldier’s life.  'In every possible way if half of what I’ve heard is true,' he thought wryly.  He was in no position to chastise her for behavior that mirrored his own.  

“Aye Ani, you have my respect,” Halbarad returned her embrace and smiled ruefully.  “Though I don’t know how much it’s worth.  It comes from a pot with the nerve to call the kettle black.”

“Must you insist on calling me by a pet name?" she sighed, torn between annoyance and relief.  "How many times do I have to tell you not to call me that?  I’m not a child anymore.”

“No, you are most definitely not,” Halbarad had laughed.  “And I‘m not sure if that‘s good or bad.”

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

Sitting before the bar at The Burping Troll, Bob was rousted abruptly from his reverie by Halbarad’s cuff to his head.  He turned his eyes to that of his captain's, still grinning in remembered amusement.

“I know what you’re thinking Bob.  You should just be glad that this is a totally different situation,” Halbarad said dryly.  It had been a challenge to make peace with this view of his sister and he still struggled with it occasionally.

Bob grinned even wider.  “And you don’t know how grateful I am for that.”

Halbarad shook his head.  “Go ahead and pour salt on old wounds, my friend.  I will allow you to get away with it just this once and only because this a new experience for you.”

Bob’s face sobered as he recalled Anoriath’s words from that long ago summer day.  

“And how would you feel about her?  What images would come to mind whenever you saw another man look at her?  What would you do?  Would you be able to let her out of your sight?  You can barely tolerate the idea of her with your best friend and you know him to be an honorable man who would be tender in his love."  

Halbarad, misinterpreting the crestfallen expression on Bob’s face, hurriedly sought to reassure him.

“I promise you Bob, I will do nothing to bring any dishonor to Elanna.  I will love and cherish her always.”

Bob shook his head abruptly.  “I know Hal.  I can’t think of anyone else I would rather see her marry and,” Bob hesitated for a long second, “I know you will be gentle with her.”

Halbarad clasped Bob to him in a quick embrace.  He understood how difficult it was for Bob to voice his deepest concern.

“May I add another promise?” Halbarad asked but did not wait for an answer.  “I will do everything in my power to dispel any lingering traces of her experience in Nurn and ensure that she knows nothing but the pleasure every woman deserves.”

Bob reddened slightly, but he was in the position of having to be both father and brother.  Any father would wish for his daughter to know only love and tenderness at the hands of her husband and Halbarad had just promised that this would be so.  

Relieved that his uncomfortable duty to his sister’s welfare had been accomplished so easily, Bob turned and called out.  “Balrog, I think we could use another round here."

Chapter Seven

Second Day of Yule
Evening

Elanna’s eyes followed Halbarad’s every step across the room to her brother's side.  Raising her hand to the cheek he had kissed, she fancied she could still feel the soft warmth of his lips.  She should have turned her head and then the kiss would have landed on her mouth, where she wanted it.  Smiling to herself, she ran her fingers over her lips, remembering the kiss on the stairs, oblivious to the laughter and voices around her.

“So that is how the land lies," a familiar masculine voice asked gruffly.  "And are you so smitten by your Captain that you can’t even spare a glance for an old friend?” 

Elanna jumped in her seat, startled by the unexpected voice behind her.  She reached forward and grabbed for the glass that she put into motion when her knees banged against the underside of the table.  After setting it to rights, she turned to the owner of the voice that had started that chain reaction.  Her eyes widened upon recognizing the tall blonde man.  She leaped from the chair and catapulted herself into his arms.

“Sewulf!" she shrieked happily.  "When did you get in?"

Sewulf raised his arms, vainly attempting to defend himself from the onslaught of affectionate kisses only to be utterly overwhelmed.

“By all the kings of the Mark, girl, spare me from this mauling,” Sewulf grumbled loudly as he tried to hold her and pull his face back all at the same time.  “It’s only been a few months since we last met, not years that need making up for.  You would have seen me earlier if a certain elf-maid hadn't been spending the entire afternoon closeted in her room upstairs intent only on frippery.”

Elanna ignored his patently disgruntled outburst.  She knew Sewulf was teasing her and that his brusque manner was more an old habit than because he was truly displeased, else he would not be holding her so tightly in an embrace for all his protesting.

“If you wish me to cease my 'mauling,' as you call it, then you will have to put me down,” Elanna demanded laughingly, half-heartedly pushing herself from his grasp.

Sewulf gave the lopsided grin that was all the smile his half-scarred face would allow, an expression he would have been loath to display before setting up trade in Nurn.  At the smile, Elanna was suffused with gratitude that the man had not crawled back into the sardonic shell that had been his home before meeting Melin.  The exuberant ex-slave had lived her free life to its fullest and insisted that those around her did the same.  It was she who had broken past the trader’s bitter armor, for she had set her cap at winning his heart and had not relented until she freed the good man hidden inside.  Even after her death, her memory dictated that he follow the course upon which she had set his feet.  

“Nay, my girl, this is the only method I know to keep you where I can see you and yet spare myself any other assaults you have brewing in that elven head of yours,” Sewulf asserted.

Elanna’s wide grin softened into a loving smile.  “I’ve missed you too.”

Sewulf made no comment but held her tightly before depositing her on her feet.

“It’s good to see you well again,” Sewulf said quietly, “and wearing her dress, if I’m not mistaken.”

Elanna ducked her head and smoothed the skirt of the crimson silk dress that had been Melin’s.

“I hope you don’t mind?” she asked the trader nervously, remembering his history with the dress.  The potter had laid her plans well.

“Nay, why would I mind when she wouldn’t have?  You were as a daughter to her,” Sewulf maintained firmly.  “From what I’ve seen so far you are doing her memory and the gown justice.  The widow woman will be pleased to hear this.”

“Therelin?” Elanna asked eagerly, remembering with fondness the old widow who had befriended her in Nurn.  “She’s asked about me?  How is she?  What about Frewulf and Silgrid?  Has the trading been helpful to them?  Has it helped the whole settlement?  Did they ever build the tavern that Anoriath was talking about?  And how is-”

“Quiet!"  Sewulf interrupted loudly.  “I don’t plan to spend the whole night trying to answer questions that would require a lifetime to do so, my young blatherskite."  He smiled to take any offense from his words.  “But I will pass along the good Therelin’s message to you."  When she rose eagerly on her toes, he amended, "But only if you will sit and quit jumping around as though someone dropped a wasp nest down your back.”

Elanna chuckled, sitting still when she was excited was a difficult task for her, as Sewulf knew full well, but if she were to get anything out of him she would have to at least make the attempt.  She gracefully sat and composed herself into a picture of serene calm.

“Please, sit,” she asked Sewulf sweetly with a courtly gesture to the chair Halbarad had occupied, “and tell me her message.”

Sewulf shook his head as he sat.  The young woman should have been an actress or a chameleon; either would have sufficed.

“Therelin sends her regards and hopes you are doing better now,” he began.  “She said that sometime after you’ve healed, in all ways, you will have to come back, not just because it’s your home too, but because you have to.  She said you would understand."  

Sewulf finished delivering the message and then sat back in his chair, watching Elanna’s face mold itself into a variety of expressions.  

Healed, in all ways.  Yes, Therelin knew that it was more than Elanna’s physical self that had been hurt.  The settlers had claimed her as one of their own before she had been captured by Parcus and for her, and themselves, they had rallied around the outsiders who had come to rescue her.  Once found, she was bound to them even more so by the hurts she had suffered.  She had become one of them, and while the silken whispers that still haunted her could be stifled here at the Troll, they had not been erased.  She had been told of the burning of the hut with the body inside.  She believed it to be true, just as she knew that someday she would have to go back and see the spot for herself.  Then, and only then, would the hated whispers in the dark be silenced forever.

Elanna abruptly realized that Sewulf was watching her with interest.  Her thoughts must have been visible on her face.

She cleared her throat.  “Forgive me.  Thank you for the message, Sewulf.  She’s right, I do understand and someday I will go back,” Elanna mused thoughtfully.  “But for now," she said, brightening.  "I want to know what took you so long to come.”

“I came when you were ready,” Sewulf replied enigmatically but quickly took pity on the confused girl.  “I saw Sevilodorf in Henneth Annun, let’s see, after the first week of November.  She said that you were not doing well then and that, though I may be stuck in Ithilien for a while, it might not be a good time to come out of my way to visit.”

“She was right.  It wasn’t,” Elanna acknowledged.

To say that she had not been doing well was an understatement.  Though every cut and bruise had healed completely, the wounds to her heart and mind had only grown worse.  The burden of memories she carried from her captivity had become too great for her mind to bear.  Yet, with the guidance of Celebsul and Belegalda, and the help of her kin, she had survived the process and had indeed been healed, a pleasant surprise for Sevilodorf upon her return from Pelargir.

“I saw her a few days ago and she said you were much better,” Sewulf said, smiling gently but quickly replacing the warm gesture with a mock scowl.  “But don’t you for a minute think that I plowed my way through all that snow just to inquire about your welfare.  First, I have something to give you before returning to the road tomorrow.”

Dismayed that his visit would be so short, Elanna burst out, "But you just got here!"

"Not to worry, girl!" the trader replied, reaching deep inside a hidden pocket in his clothes.  "This is merely a stop along the way.  The dwarvish colony from the Ash Mountains is meeting us at the Black Gate to collect their supplies, but it will be a short trip and I'll be back in time for the last day of Yule."  He pulled out a small leather pouch.  

It landed with a heavy thump and a jingle.  Elanna stared curiously at the purse Sewulf tossed onto the table between them.  She could not imagine what it held.  

“Well, are you going to open it?” he prompted sourly.

Elanna, undisturbed by his mock displeasure, picked the sack up.  It was as heavy as it sounded.  She shook it.  The sound was distinctively familiar, but she just couldn’t place it.  Her fingers picked stiffly at the knot, nervous curiosity making her clumsy, but she finally got the leather lace undone.  Poking fingers into the opening, she yanked the purse's neck in opposite directions until it was as wide as it would go.  With a quick glance to Sewulf’s impassive face, she peered inside.  Mouth agape in surprise, Elanna picked up the bag and dumped part of its contents onto the linen covered surface.  The silver and copper discs of varying sizes fell, jingling against each other as they tumbled out.

Elanna stared at them, dumfounded.  “What is this?”

Sewulf’s face now reflected his pleasure.  “It’s yours.  You earned it.  Melin taught you well, your pots fetched almost as much as hers did,” he added with relish.

Elanna was stunned.  This was her money.  It came from the pots that Sewulf had taken.  It did not surprise her that Melin’s had been bought at a good price, but hers?  Elanna picked up a small handful of coins and let them run through her fingers.  Someone had given up his or her hard-earned coin for something she had made.  Try as she might she could not believe it, though the corroboration lay before her.  Wait, what was Sewulf saying?  Elanna glanced guiltily up at the man.

“-the circumstances I only felt right taking a smaller profit than what we agreed on, for this batch anyway,” he corrected himself.  “I will take my full share on the next, mind you.”

Elanna couldn’t help but laugh.  It was such a Sewulf comment.

“I would be careful, if I were you," she leaned over and whispered conspiratorially.  "It wouldn’t do for folk to hear that the mighty trader Sewulf went easy on a bargain,” Elanna teased, her eyes twinkling merrily.  “Speaking of next time, when you come back again, could you bring Beregrid with you?" she urged, suddenly aware that the trader's younger partner and cousin had not appeared.  "I would dearly love to see him again." 

Sewulf’s expression sobered suddenly.  His eyes glanced over her shoulder before they dropped to the bright settings on the table.  Elanna’s heart sank at the sight.  Something was terribly wrong.  Fear laced itself through her lungs and pulled itself tight, cutting off her breath.

“What is it?” Elanna asked hoarsely.

“I won’t be able to bring Beregrid back with me next time,” Sewulf said quietly, not raising his eyes.

Elanna closed her eyes and forced herself to stay calm and listen to Sewulf.

“I won’t be able to because,” Sewulf paused, his eyes still cast down.  “He needs to stay with the stand the next time.  I can’t have those I employ gallivanting all over Middle-earth just to chase down a pretty face.”

“And just what name would you give to what you’re doing?” a deeply warm and strangely familiar voice chuckled.

Elanna opened her eyes to Sewulf’s unrepentant grin.

“And just what kind of daft tales have you been filling her ears in my absence?” asked a handsome blonde man as he came out from behind Elanna.

“You!" she managed to croak before the jaw dropping to her chest made coherent speech impossible.  

Beregrid laughed and asked, “And who else would it be?  Were you expecting King Elessar or mayhap King Eomer?”

“N-N-No, no one, not them.  The kings, I mean,” she stammered, not believing her eyes or her ears.  “It's just that he said…” She turned abruptly to her tablemate.  "Ohhh Sewulf!  That was terrible!  How could you be so cruel?” Elanna accused him.  

She reached out to swipe at him but Sewulf merely tipped his chair back, placing himself out of her reach.  After a couple of half-hearted swats that missed, she took up the more important task of trying to crush Beregrid’s ribs in her arms.

“What a beautiful voice you have!" she exclaimed, squeezing the affectionately grinning man tightly.  "I am so happy you have it back, though I will miss the other language,” she said, referring to the moving voice he had created with his hands.  “I don’t know how it happened but I’m just glad it did.”

The men's eyes met over her head.  His younger cousin answered Sewulf’s unspoken question with a firm shake of his head.  He had never told Elanna of the circumstances that had forced him to find his voice.  Beregrid had not been able to bring himself to describe the details of finding Melin dead to anyone other than his kin and partner, and the elf Aglaran had been the only witness.  Beregrid's desperate gestures attempting to communicate his fear for Elanna's fate had meant nothing to the blind elf and, in his rising terror, the Rohirrim trader had eked out the first words he had spoken since the War of the Rings.  Afterwards, slowly but surely, with much toil and effort, Beregrid had regained his ability to speak.  

Though he now had the voice to do so, he never told anyone how his heart shrank from the idea that Elanna had been captured and possibly killed.  He knew her heart belonged to another, but he still could not withhold his own foolish attachment to the slip of a girl with the laughing eyes.  She was the first woman since his voice was lost in blood and fear that had treated him as if he were really there, not just a dumb beast to be ignored.  The thought of her light gone from his life had done what no healer had been able to do, but the price that had been paid … Upon reflection, he knew it was irrational, that the one had nothing to do with the other.  Elanna and Melin did not pay with their lives so that he could speak again, but that did not stop him from feeling guilty that they had lost while he had gained.  

It was this guilt that caused him to stop Sewulf's telling of the tale.  He did not wish for Elanna to know.  Instead he just returned her embrace and, with a glint of amusement in his eye he said, “I’m glad to be able to speak again too, if for no other reason than Sewulf can no longer pretend to misunderstand me when it suits him.” 

Beregrid released the young woman, sharing chuckles if no longer an embrace.

“Hmmmph,” Sewulf huffed as he pushed back his chair from the table and stood.  “Give a man back his voice and all he can think to do with it is give his elders cheek."  Sewulf thumped Beregrid in the chest.  “You, my young friend, can now fetch your own ale.”

Laughter followed Sewulf as he stumped off to the bar and joined Halbarad and Bob.  Elanna wiped her wet eyes with the back of her knuckles, but her attempt at speech was cut off by a sound somewhere between a hiccup and a cough.  A grinning Beregrid tried to pat her on the back but she twisted away from him.

“Please don’t,” she managed to say in a choked voice.  “It only makes it worse.”

Beregrid waited beside her, his hand on her shoulder until the sputtering stopped and when it finally did, he held out Elanna’s glass to her.

“Here, but just sip it, not too much or you’ll start all over again,” he advised solicitously.

Elanna accepted the glass and the advice.  She sipped slowly and her color returned to normal.

Looking over the table and sniffing experimentally, “That smell’s like Frewulf’s brew,” Beregrid commented.

“That’s because it is,” Elanna reported happily.  “Halbarad plotted with Sev behind my back to get some for tonight, along with just about everything else on the table."  She gestured with a sweeping motion of her hand.

Beregrid felt a small tug at his heart when he recognized the source of the light in her eyes.  It appeared that Elanna had recaptured her lost love for her Ranger captain.  The pain only lasted a moment, for he loved her enough to be happy for her.  It was a gift from Eru to find what you had thought was lost forever.

He covered the momentary ache with a smile.  “It seems, then, that your Halbarad has spared no expense.  A guaranteed sign that the man is in love,” Beregrid assured her wryly.  “So, have you set a date for the wedding?”

Elanna’s face colored to match her dress.  “Well, umm, no, umm, n-not yet,” she stammered.  Though, at the lift of Beregrid’s brow she stated defiantly, with a thrust of her chin, “I pledged myself to him moments before I left for Nurn.  You know everything that happened after that."  She paused at the thoughtful silence that greeted her pronouncement.  "Besides," she continued, softer.  "It was only tonight that I finally found where my love for him had lain hidden from me, so there has been no time to speak of the matter, much less set a date or make a formal announcement.”

Beregrid replied with a white-toothed grin and nothing else as he sat down.

“Well, it's not like everyone doesn’t know already,” she rationalized, and followed his example.  “I mean there’s almost no point in being formal about the whole thing.”

Beregrid folded his arms across his chest as he leaned back in the chair.  He shook his head and tutted disapprovingly.  “Tsk, tsk, tsk.  No formal announcement.  No notice posted.  Why, I’ll wager that he hasn’t even proposed properly either, has he?”

Elanna chuckled at Beregrid’s silliness.  “Of course he hasn’t!  Just when was he supposed to?”

Beregrid placed his palms against each other, tapping the fingertips together with his eyes staring at the ceiling.  

“I’m at a loss for words," he said.  "Imagine that, a captain of the Rangers who is well versed in military protocol, yet shows such a blatant disregard for proper social etiquette.”  Beregrid gazed enigmatically at Elanna, and then sat up straight with his hands flat on the table as if to propel his body up off the seat.  “I believe I will have to talk to that man of yours, in fact, I’m surprised, my dear cousin, Sevilodorf hasn’t said anything to him yet.  I suppose it falls to me to right this matter.”

An outraged Elanna gasped, “You wouldn’t dare!”

“Oh wouldn’t I?” Beregrid grinned wickedly, lifting himself halfway off the chair as if to fulfill his threat.

Elanna crossed her arms in front of her and pouted.  “I’m beginning to think I liked you better when you couldn’t speak.”

Beregrid’s shoulders shook with laughter as he sat back down.  “I have a bargain to offer you,” he acquiesced.

Elanna glared at him suspiciously.  Beregrid’s sense of humor had not changed and she wasn’t sure if she really wanted to know what the bargain was that he had in mind.  He could be an awful tease when he wanted, but she knew he would say something to Halbarad for sure if she didn’t at least hear him out.  He was just as much a trader as his cousin, ever able to sell what the listener had not known was needed until he opened his mouth.  

“Oh, all right, what is it?” Elanna sighed in defeat, uncrossing her arms.  She planted her elbows on the table and rested her chin in the cup of her hands.

“Come now,” Beregrid chuckled.  How he had missed this part of their friendship.  “I promise it won’t be as bad as all that.  I will not say a word to Halbarad if you will promise to sing the song with me once before I go.  And that means here, in this room, with other people around to hear.  You had promised you would when we were back in Nurn,” he reminded her.

Elanna recalled the last time she had sung in the common room.  A magic ball and an inverted stance had been involved, if she had her facts straight.  A giggle burst forth and swelled into laughter at the memory of Erin and Sev holding her dress up around her legs while she stood on her head.  When she saw Beregrid’s baffled expression, it only made her laugh harder.

“I p-promise!" she sputtered, squeezing her words in between burst of laughter.  “Whenever you choose.  I know which song.”

Beregrid wondered if he dared to ask what she found so funny, but decided to travel the safer road at the moment.  “I will hold you to that promise,” he warned.

“Hold her to what promise?” Halbarad asked curiously, having noted Elanna’s frantic struggle to contain her laughter from across the room.

Beregrid replied, “A promise she made in Nurn that I only now reminded her of.”

Halbarad’s brow slanted upwards as he asked pointedly, though not without humor, “Is this a promise I should know about?”

Elanna sat tongue-tied.  It was an innocent enough promise and she couldn’t understand why she suddenly felt so uncomfortable about it.  She was saved from answering by a miniature cyclone that appeared without warning in their midst.

“Halbarad, you don’t mind if we borrow Elanna for a few minutes do you?” asked Erin without waiting for an answer.  “We have Cammy and Milo, Meri and Aerio, me and Esgallyg and now we just need someone for Gambesul.  You can’t have a proper Springle-Ring with an odd number of people, now can you?  I promise I will bring her back when we’re done,” the animated hobbit offered in a rush.

Elanna was allowed just enough time to look questioningly at Halbarad and receive his light brush of lips before Erin tugged urgently on her hand and led her to the aforementioned group of dancers.  Halbarad watched the ensuing discussion that was sparked by the half-elf’s addition.  Did he really want to know what it could be about?  Having become well acquainted with hobbits these past months he knew that that question had little chance of escaping the purely rhetorical.

“She has come back all the way, hasn’t she?” Beregrid asked, watching the partners step into the dance.

“Yes, she has,” Halbarad agreed, his gaze followed Elanna's light steps and whirling form.

“Forgive me," Beregrid hesitated.  "But, I asked her if you two had set a date.  She said you hadn’t?”

Halbarad's attention snapped to the man seated below him.  He was aware that Beregrid carried the burden of an unrequited love for Elanna, so he couldn’t help but wonder to what purpose his inquiry tended.

“No, she wasn’t ready before," Halbarad stated with deliberate care.  "Though, after tonight I believe we may finally be able to.” 

Beregrid watched his motives being weighed in the blue-green eyes of Elanna’s beloved.  

“Forgive me if I’m wrong, but shouldn’t the proposal come before you set the date?” Beregrid asked innocently and turned his eyes back to the dancing.

Halbarad peered at him blankly, unable to comprehend the man's purpose.  'The proposal first?'  His thoughts jumped from memory to memory like stepping stones in a river, until he reached the beginning.  It had started with three arrivals.  His own with Elros was first; this was quickly followed by the arrival of Tempus Thales.  The last was Anoriath, wounded in body and spirit from her encounter with the raider leader, Parcus.  Three arrivals in a forty-eight hour span, three separate points converging in one place to start a chain of events that led to this very moment.

His mind kept returning to one particular moment, the morning Elanna left for her assignment at Lake Nurnen.  Her swearing-in had been a hasty affair.  The Prince had commanded that she leave for Henneth Annun the next morning, after which she was to travel immediately for Nurn.  Halbarad would never forget that morning.  It was a day marked by his greatest joy and deepest heartbreak.  After weeks of confused feeling and mixed signals, Elanna opened her heart and pledged herself to him just as she was about to leave.  They only had seconds to….  Pledged herself….

Halbarad beamed at Beregrid, the man’s motives becoming clear and immediately laying to rest any suspicion the Ranger might have harbored of the man of Rohan.  

“Why my good Beregrid," he said.  "I do believe you are absolutely right."  Halbarad placed a hand to his breast and said sorrowfully, “I am a knave with no honor.  I have been terribly remiss in my courtship of the fair Elanna.  As you have so graciously pointed out there was no proper proposal.”

Beregrid shook his head from side to side and laughed.  Halbarad’s theatrics reminded him of Elanna.  It would seem that the two were well suited in more ways than one.  Hmmmm, maybe her promise to him could be put to good use.

“If you don’t mind, may I offer a suggestion?” Beregrid offered.

Halbarad came to perplexed attention, dropping his playfulness.  To point out his lack was one thing, but to offer help seemed … well, odd.  He searched the younger man’s eyes but found no guile or deceit.  Yet, there was something there, a peacefulness that had been missing in Nurn.  Halbarad’s eyes widened at the thought of the one possibility that made sense.

Smiling gently, Halbarad seated himself across from Beregrid and asked, “What is her name?”

Beregrid released a small rueful laugh before he spoke.  “Her name is Lethwin,” he replied, his love warming his voice.  “She saw in me that which Elanna had, the man behind the stuttering and web of hand movements, a whole man worthy of a woman’s love.”

Halbarad reached out to Beregrid and the two men clasped hands across the table.

“I am truly happy for you, my friend, and I’m sure Elanna will be,” Halbarad offered warmly.  “A loving woman who sees only the best in her man is a rare treasure.”

“You are right,” Beregrid agreed with a smile, “and I have had the good fortune to have known two.”

“You’re a lucky man, Beregrid.  Now," Halbarad stated, his voice turning brisk.  "You said something about an idea?”

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

Later, Elanna flopped breathlessly into her chair.  What was supposed to have been one Springle-Ring turned into a half hour of vigorous dancing.  She was reasonably sure that the only people she hadn’t yet partnered were the Balrog and the small company of Gubbitch's orcs.  Still, she shouldn’t complain, not when each minute had been a pleasure.  Come to think of it, she had so far enjoyed every minute of this evening.  All her worries and concerns from earlier in the day had melted away with Halbarad's kiss and the energetic dancing, leaving her happy and, for the moment, exhausted.

She refilled her glass and, as she sipped, looked around for Halbarad.  The last time she had seen him he had been talking to Beregrid and, though she saw the trader at another table with his cousin, Sewulf, she was unable to find any sign of Halbarad.  Her eyes scanned the room.  The hobbits remained, three lasses and a lad, plus Dimereg, though Esgallyg was apparently missing.  Sevilodorf crossed the room, joining Beregrid and Sewulf under Elanna's watchful eye.  Bob sat at a table full of laughing elves, including Firnelin and his brother, Belegalda, Anbarad, and Celebsul's two young apprentices, six people and only seven bottles of Cherry B between them.  Celebsul must have been sitting there at one point.  Gubbitch and Hooknose were playing cribbage off to the side, but no Titch.  Pippin and Carcharien sat near the fire, leaning in close to each other, very close.  Elanna smiled.  She and Halbarad weren’t the only ones in love tonight.

“Hmmm, that smile looks just like the one you were wearing when you came in tonight,” Anoriath drawled dryly, grinning.

“Ani!" Elanna exclaimed by way of surprised greeting.

“There was something different about that smile," the older woman mused in mock puzzlement.  "You wouldn't care to share your secret, would you?” 

Elanna wrinkled her nose at the other Ranger and grinned.  “Been to the privy again, Anoriath?” she asked sweetly.

Anoriath snorted, her eyes twinkling merrily in the candlelight.  “Nay, my girl, you’re not distracting me that easily.  Besides, you already know the answer to that question,” Anoriath retorted as she sat down and leaned over the table as far as her swollen belly allowed. Her brow quirked expressively.   “Now, back to that smile and your secret…”

Elanna sighed and allowed her Halbarad-induced euphoria to fill her once more and be reflected in her expression.

“I remembered, Ani.  I love him,” she said dreamily, “and it was just wonderful, nay, more than wonderful.  Oh, it felt so good to love him again, to be able to say those words to him."  Elanna paused.  “There were tears in his eyes, Ani.”

“That's just too bad.  Must have completely spoiled the moment,” Anoriath stated dryly, clucking her tongue.  

Elanna stared open-mouthed at the Ranger.  Surely Anoriath knew how long Elanna and Halbarad had waited for this moment, how it meant more to them than all the dragon’s hoards in Middle-earth!  Elanna was about to tell her so when she saw the twinkle in the older woman’s eyes and the suppressed twitching of her lips.

“You are so awful, Anoriath,” Elanna declared, resorting to the familiar pout, her bottom lip extended as far as it would go.  “I have half a mind not to tell you anymore, humph.”

Anoriath laughed silently.  Shaking her head, she wondered if Elanna knew she lost half of her twenty-one years every time she adopted that expression.  Snorting, she decided this might not be the best time to point that out.  Instead, she rested her arm on the table with her open hand extended to the young woman and grinned at her.  After a moment she deliberately dragged out as long as she dared, Elanna capitulated and put her hand in the other woman's.  

“Tell me,” Anoriath urged as she gently squeezed and gave her a quick shake.

Elanna’s gaze softened and focused elsewhere.  “He held me close and stroked my back."  She focused on Anoriath and spoke with wonder in her voice, mimicking Halbarad’s gesture in the air in front of her with her free hand.  “He ran his fingers over my skin as if it were as smooth as silk, as if the scars didn’t even exist.”

Anoriath was quietly pleased.  The sense of self-worth her brother had gifted the young woman with that simple gesture was priceless.

“And that’s it?” Anoriath prompted, provocatively tilting her brow upwards.

A delicate shade of pink stained Elanna’s cheeks and she quickly found an interesting treat on her plate that demanded her immediate attention.  It didn’t help that her skin tingled with the memory of his touch.

Anoriath grinned wickedly.  “I will assume from the lovely color of your face that there is more and it only gets better.”

The pink deepened to rose and then red.  Elanna prayed that no one would notice or find the need to join the women at that moment.

“ANORIATH!" she whispered fiercely, trying for outrage and falling far short.  She'd not known this side to the Ranger and was suddenly struck by her similarity to Melin.  The potter had teased her unmercifully about her innocence.  No wonder the two had been friends.

Anoriath gave Elanna’s hand another quick squeeze.  “You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to.”

A wistful look appeared in Elanna’s eyes.  As embarrassing as it was, she did enjoy the teasing.  It was something her mother would have done before settling down to listen to the whole tale, the mother who could no longer listen.  

Softly, Elanna stated, “But I don’t have anyone else I can tell.”

The simple declaration clutched at Anoriath’s heart and she sighed in response.  Though, Anoriath’s mother lived, she had never been able to share her hopes, dreams and concerns with the woman.  Most often she had shared them with Halbarad, but there were some thing she'd never be able to tell her brother.  It had cost Elanna's mother time and patience to draw Anoriath into her confidence.  She had been careful to treat the young Ranger as another daughter, recognizing the longing she had had for a mothering heart even before the young woman knew it herself, a craving that Elanna must have felt more than once over the years since her mother's death.  Anoriath added her left hand to the right that had Elanna’s in its grasp.

Anoriath's face was soft with a half-smile under the glimmer of unshed tears.  “I am not your mother in any stretch of the imagination.  I have no illusion that I could ever replace what she was.  But, she was kind enough to give me what I most needed and I would pass that on to you, if I could.“

Her voice thick from the lump in her throat, Elanna answered, “I would like that.”

The two women sat together in silence for a short time, lost in their thoughts of mothers and daughters.

“I asked him to kiss me again,” Elanna finally said.  “Like he did the day I left for Nurn.”

“And?” Anoriath prompted when she fell silent.

“It was wonderful.  It was…  I don’t know.  I’ve never felt anything like it before.”  Elanna paused; a faint shadow crossed her features.  “Well, maybe once, but that wasn’t real.”

The girl did not elaborate and Anoriath didn’t ask her too.  She knew what Elanna meant and her heart burned just thinking about it.  'He’s dead and gone.  Parcus has no hold over you and soon he won’t have one over her,' she reminded herself.  Anoriath was just pleased that Elanna’s love and passion for Halbarad had been awakened without the same difficulties she herself had encountered with the King's messenger who had chanced upon the Troll late in the summer.  Even so, she reflected, she had to admit that all turned out well in the end.  She had chosen her man well.

Anoriath came out of her musings to find Elanna’s attention had wandered to where Halbarad had reentered the room.  She followed the young girl’s rapt gaze as it was held immobile by her brother‘s eyes.  Preoccupied as she was, the girl withdrew her hand without knowing it.  Anoriath glanced between the two with interest.  Oblivious to the laughter and gaiety flowing around them, they existed only for each other.  Anoriath’s brows rose as she watched Halbarad smile at Elanna.  In this unguarded moment, she perceived the depth of his love for the half-elven maid and her heart pounded in grateful awe.

The moment was lost when Halbarad raised one brow and winked at Elanna.  Anoriath quickly turned her attention to the girl and watched the flush spread from Elanna’s face to the neckline of her dress.  She also noticed the look in the girl’s eyes, the lips that parted slightly and the breath that came more quickly.  'Ah,' she thought, 'I think she has found her passion for you with a vengeance, brother dear.  Unless you’ve set a wedding date, be careful which fires you stoke.'  

Anoriath made a mental note to talk to Halbarad.  There were a few things he needed to know before he proceeded any further down this road with his beloved, certain pitfalls that had to be avoided at all cost.  She was reasonably sure she could bring the subject up with him in such a way that he would listen.  Anoriath smiled.  She knew he would find it difficult to discuss such matters with her.  Her brother was not in the habit of sharing this area of his life with his sister.  But if he wanted to do right by Elanna, he would just have to.

“You know, if you keep looking at him like that, you’ll just eventually melt into a puddle of butter on that seat,” Anoriath commented archly.

Elanna forced herself to look at the woman and immediately regretted it.  The look of shrewd amusement in the older woman’s eyes caused her blush to deepen.  'Was it that obvious,' she thought?

As if she had heard the unspoken thought, Anoriath answered, chuckling, “Yes, it was that obvious.  But it was a delight to see."  The Ranger reached back over and patted the girl’s hand and said softly, “You both have waited long for this.”

Elanna smiled, toying with her glass.  “We have, haven’t we?  Oh Ani, you were so right, his love was waiting there for me to find all along.”

“Well, what are you going to do with it now that you found it?” Anoriath asked.

With sudden shyness Elanna lowered her eyes.  “I’m not sure, umm, can I ask you something?”

Anoriath grinned at her embarrassment.  She had a fairly accurate idea of just what kind of questions lurked unanswered in the girl’s mind.  'Good!'  Waiting, she remained silent until Elanna raised her eyes.  

“I believe I may know a little about what you wish to ask."  Though her voice was kind, Anoriath couldn't resist teasing the young woman.  She glanced about the crowded room before returning her attention to the blushing woman before her.  "I would rather we meet tomorrow, when we can be alone and have more time to answer your questions.  Would that be acceptable?”

Elanna had so many questions that she felt she could almost burst if she had to wait to have them answered.  But she was aware that they were of a nature that would be better served by privacy.  She just prayed that she wouldn’t lose the courage to give them voice.  If she couldn’t bring herself to ask Anoriath, then she might never know.

“Tomorrow morning?" Elanna offered after thinking for a moment.  "I’m supposed to be getting some pots ready for Sewulf to look at.  We could meet then.” 

“Tomorrow in the potting shed it is."  Anoriath nodded.  "At least it will be warm in there,” she added wryly.

Elanna laughed.  “Only because we loaded the kiln today.  I’ll make sure to start fire it up early,” she glanced pointedly at Anoriath’s stomach.  “We wouldn’t want someone to be cold.”

Elanna watched open-mouthed as a small bulge rolled under Anoriath’s shirt where it was pulled tight.  Anoriath glanced at it ruefully.  Why did this child insist on moving about only when she was at rest?  Most of the time Anoriath was irritated by the fascination her pregnancy held for everyone, if nothing else because, inevitably, they wanted to touch her growing belly and not all had the decency to ask first.  But the excitement in Elanna’s face touched her heart.  Someday the girl would carry her niece or nephew.  Anoriath smiled and took Elanna’s hand, placing it over the source of the movement.  She watched as awe took its place in the girl’s eyes.

“Oh Ani,” Elanna whispered.  “He’s beautiful.”

Anoriath looked sharply at Elanna.  The girl spoke as if she could somehow see.  She shook her head slightly.  Ever since the healing, Elanna had insisted that the child was a boy, just as Aglaran had.  This was just getting too strange.  Now all she needed was one more person to be that certain and she would be looking for charms against enchantments.  But for now, she would enjoy the pleasure on the girl’s face.  Anoriath brushed the back of her hand against Elanna’s cheek.

“Someday it will be Halbarad’s child that stirs within you,” Anoriath said gently.

Halbarad’s child, a joy Elanna could scarcely imagine.  Another hand joined the girl’s on the twitching babe that seemed to know he was being discussed.  Elanna raised her eyes to Halbarad’s loving smile.

“Someday,” he promised.

Elanna rose from her chair into Halbarad’s embrace.  Holding her close, he kissed the top of her head.

Looking over her, he said to his sister, “I believe Esgallyg needs to speak with you.  He’s over by the bar.”

Anoriath stood a little awkwardly, pushing herself off the chair and the table.  As she walked past, she placed a hand on her brother’s arm and squeezed.  No words were exchanged, but none were needed between brother and sister, she found her thanks in his eyes.

Halbarad held Elanna a little longer, stroking her hair, at peace with himself and the world while he was in her arms.  He could have stood that way all night but he had one more surprise for her.  He broke off the embrace and held her at arms' length.  Repositioning his arms, he bowed to her.

“My lady, may I beg you for the honor of this dance?” he asked in his most formal manner.

Elanna curtsied and held her hand out to him.  “The honor is mine, my good Captain.”

As he led her back to the space that had been cleared for dancing, Elanna noticed something different.  Clustered about the open floor were Esgallyg, Anoriath, Celebsul and, no, could it be, yes, it was Titch.  Celebsul and Titch each held a pipe. The orc rather nervously as he twisted the instrument in his gnarled hands and rocked on his feet from side to side.  Celebsul leaned down and laid a calming hand on the hunched shoulder, slowing the swaying movement until Titch stopped.  Some whispered words from the elf calmed the creature further and he settled down and held his pipe properly, fingers in place.  Titch gave Celebsul an appreciative grin and a hoarse ‘thank you’ through the broken fence of his teeth.  Esgallyg plucked a low note on his small lap harp and Anoriath twisted the knobs on her borrowed lute, tuning the two instruments to the same voice.  When done, they glanced at Celebsul who nodded a slow beat of three.

The quartet began to play as the couple set foot on the dance floor.  Elanna stopped to listen for a moment, enchanted by the tapestry of music woven by the varied notes of lute, harp and pipes.  It brought to mind her earlier daydream while she waited in Pippin’s room.  ‘Only better,’ she thought.  Her hand tightened on Halbarad’s arm, causing him to glance down at her upturned face.  With his eyes holding hers, Elanna lost all interest in those who made the music.

“Shall we dance?” Halbarad asked but was immediately caught in her incredibly blue eyes, pausing as he drowned in their depth.

“Isn’t that what we’re supposed to do to the music?” she countered and laughed softly, breaking his bemusement.

Halbarad took her right hand in his and positioned himself facing her with their clasped hands between them.  Elanna held her skirt with her left hand and Halbarad placed his behind his back at his waist.  Moving together as one person they found the rhythm of the music.  One-two-three, one-two-three, they stepped lightly about the dance floor, unmindful of the other dancers, drawing gentle smiles from those who watched.  One by one the other couples dropped out, leaving the floor until Halbarad and Elanna danced alone.  The room grew quiet as conversations ceased and all attention was turned toward the Ranger captain and his lady.

For Halbarad and Elanna, all that existed was the music and the dance.  Lost in their small world, the custom that kept the dancers apart became a hindrance to Halbarad.  Flinging convention aside, he drew their arms in an arch above her head and, thus unimpeded, brought his left hand from behind his back and set it at her waist, pulling her closer.  Reveling in the freedom, they discovered that they could now spin and move around the dance floor in ways they had been unable to before.  

The musicians shared a silent signal and increased the tempo of the music.  Halbarad and Elanna eagerly matched their steps to the new rhythm.  Dancers and musicians fed the momentum until it built to a dizzying whirl.  When all had reached their limit, the music peaked with a crashing chord and then stopped.  

A three count rest and it resumed at the original tempo.  The melody gentled into a sweet tenderness.  Halbarad and Elanna imperceptibly swayed, upheld and uplifted by the music.  Their eyes locked, so lost in each other that they could not have looked away even if they had wanted to.  With a breathlessness caused by more than the dancing, Halbarad leaned down.  Elanna held his eyes until the last possible moment, closing only as he pressed his lips to hers and the world around them vanished.

Camellia squeezed Milo’s hand as she whispered in his ear, watching from their seats at the edge of the dance floor,  “Oh Milo, that was so beautiful.”

And another kiss was started.

Chapter Eight

Third Day of Yule
Morning

The night before, Halbarad, Captain of Ithilien Rangers, had fallen asleep happier than he suspected he would ever deserve.  If all went as planned, by Yule’s end his life would be one step closer to complete.  His heart filled to breaking with the love Elanna now returned, he lay down in the shirt that he had worn that evening, reluctant to part from even the scent of his love that still lingered in its fibers.  His mind on the softness of her lips and the heady perfume of her hair, her name was the last thing he murmured before falling into the gentle light of dreams.  

But his awakening was not so kind.  In the midst of his sleep, a pillow boxing his ear rudely roused Halbarad.  Instantly awake though not yet totally aware, he thrashed under the covers, fighting off the foe that covered his eyes.  His bunkmate's laughter brought him to full consciousness, revealing that his limbs lay tightly tangled in his blankets.  He flipped them off to find Elros in stitches, lying back on his bed and laughing breathlessly, the pillow he had used to assault his captain knocked to the floor.  

“And just what is so funny and why did you throw the bloody thing at me in the first place,” demanded the irritated Halbarad.  He abhorred being the brunt of a joke, particularly when he had no clue as to what he had done to earn the honor.  

Elros grinned wickedly at his friend and plucked his pillow from the floor.  To Halbarad's wide-eyed dismay, the man held it in his arms and stroked it with one hand while moaning in pleasure.  It only took a second for him to grasp the meaning behind his friend’s mockery.  Halbarad groaned and pulled the blankets back over his head.  

“Oh nooo!" he lamented.  

“Oh yeeesss!" Elros retorted gleefully. Delighted that weeks after having been teased himself by the man, he could finally return the favor.  

Recovering his dignity, Halbarad emerged from his cocoon once more.  He sat up resolutely, plumped his pillow, lay back again and squirmed into a more comfortable position.  

Smiling ruefully, he laced his fingers behind his head and commented with a glance to Elros, “I guess I had that one coming.” 

Elros returned the smile.  “Aye, that you did,” he agreed and then sobered.  “To be honest, though, it was good to hear you happy, visiting good dreams for a change.” 

Halbarad could not stop the color from rising in his face and he stared at the softly lit ceiling without seeing it.  How many times had he been heard?  Had Elros been outside their door on those nights when his stern façade had crumbled and his fears for Elanna reduced him to tears?  Those nights had certainly occurred often enough while his love faced a danger he was powerless to combat both in Nurn and after they had returned to the Troll.  He'd hated those nights, when the activity of the day abandoned his thoughts and he was unable to hold back the fear and helplessness, and yet was unable to find relief in their release either.  His weeping had only left him feeling disgusted with his weakness and resolute to remain strong, until the next time.  

And what about those first days after Elanna’s healing, those times when he found himself startlingly awake in the night, heart pounding, skin slick with sweat and mouth dry with fear?  Nightmares in which a silken voice whispered its soft lies and his love’s helpless plea for his presence filled his ears and his body burned from hands that had never touched him.  

Halbarad apologized stiffly, staring at the ceiling, “I am sorry if I disturbed you.  I never meant for you to hear.” 

Elros shook his head quickly.  “Nay, no forgiveness is needed.  The hardest part was not what I heard.”  He paused, a small reassuring smile on his lips as he caught his friend's gaze.  “It was being unable to do anything for you.  Helplessness in the face of a friend’s pain is never easy, is it?” 

Halbarad blew a sigh through pursed lips.  “No, it never is.” 

“Anyway,” Elros continued, “from what I saw last night and what I heard this morning, something good has happened between you two, has it not?” 

Halbarad’s joy suddenly beamed from his face and warmed his voice.  “Aye, it has!  She loves me again El, totally and with her whole heart.  I was able to kiss her and hold her in my arms without her shrinking from me in fear!  Ah!  And her response, Elros!  All I could ever hope for."  Halbarad basked in the memory and then swallowed hard, only able to speak his darkest fear aloud now that he knew it would not come to pass.  “I was beginning to think I would never have her love again,” he admitted softly.  

Elros regarded his friend silently for a moment.  ‘At least one of us has the love he has longed for,’ he thought wistfully.  But to Halbarad he said with emphatic warmth, “I am truly happy for you, my friend.  It gladdens my heart to see you together again.  But, I do have one question.” 

Halbarad brought his brows together in a confused frown and turned on his elbow to see the Ranger.  “And your question is?” 

Elros painted a carefully solemn expression on his face before he asked, “What could she possibly have done last night for you to call her an 'enchantress from the mere?'  Neither of you went outside in the snow last night, hmmm?  So why is it you associate her with wat-” 

When his friend froze guiltily, Elros’ eyes opened wide and the only other answer came to him.  He leaned over the edge of his bed and peered at Halbarad through playfully narrowed eyes.  

“It couldn’t have been the bathing spot in the river that’s frozen over" he considered, tapping a fingertip to his lips, to Halbarad's amused exasperation.  He waggled his finger at the Captain in mock censure.  "That only leaves one other place where you would find a woman in enough water to haunt your dreams, my friend, and that place just happens to have a faulty latch, does it not?” he shrewdly guessed.  

Halbarad closed his eyes, yesterday’s accidental glimpse of Elanna in the bathing room replaying itself on his eyelids.  Controlling himself was so much harder when his imagination was given such vivid food for thought.  That image of her was one that had made such an impression that it would surely remain untarnished until his dying day.  Coming out of his reverie, Halbarad realized suddenly how much harder it was.  He quickly rolled to his stomach on his bed and buried his face in his pillow, causing Elros to flop back on his mattress and roar with laughter once more.  

Halbarad, his face hot, groaned into his pillow, "Enough!  El!" 

“Oh, my friend,” Elros chuckled, wiping his eyes as his laughter subsided.  "What is it about the sight of a woman’s wet body that hits you right in the gut and takes your breath away.” 

“I don’t know,” Halbarad said, his voice muffled by his pillow.  “Why don’t you tell me?” 

This comment elicited another chuckle from Elros and then a mock sigh.  “I think they must do it on purpose.” 

Halbarad snorted lightly in agreement.  In control of himself again, he rolled onto his back and pushed himself abruptly out of bed.  It did him no good to dwell on such things.  Best to get the day started.  Rifling through the clothes hanging off the shoulders of the chair, he found his pants and stepped into them.  

“Aye, as if they weren't already winning that battle," Halbarad sighed.  "Any more and I'll be laid to waste, Elros.” 

“Then take my advice, my friend, wed your lady as soon as possible,” his friend counseled as he strained to reach across the room to the chair without rising from his bed.  Elros snagged the shirttail between two fingers and whipped the cloth off the back of the chair.  Holding it in his hands, he grinned mischievously.  “My own dreams are bad enough, I don’t know if I can bear to have to listen to yours.” 

“Ha!" Halbarad exclaimed while he pushed through the last button on his trousers and leaned down to pick up a boot.  "And yet I have had to listen to yours these past months!  How ungenerous of you!" he protested, shaking his boot at the man.  

Halbarad dropped heavily to the edge of his bed and pushed his foot into the boot.  How many nights had he had lain awake, not sure whether to be irritated by Elros’ soft moans or to be envious?  Before last night, he had not dared to dream of what he may never possess.  But now it was as if that one kiss had opened a dam and the visions flooded his sleeping mind.  Hal shook his head imperceptibly.  He would be forever grateful that the return of Elanna's love came the same day these dreams of her began.  He didn’t know if he could tolerate dreaming about a woman who might never be his.  He didn’t know how Elros could stand it.  His thoughts were interrupted by his friend's voice.  

“Aye, and just who will be the first to no longer need to find their release in dreams, I wonder?” Elros teased, a rare lecherous twinkle in his eye.  

“Humph, at this rate it will be me," Halbarad swiftly retorted without thinking, his heel thumping into place in his boot.  

Alerted by the sudden heavy silence, Halbarad looked up from his task to find the strangest look on his friend's face.  He couldn’t fathom what thoughts could have twisted Elros' features into such a position.  Examining his last statement from another angle, Hal laughed heartily when he realized how his last declaration much have been interpreted.  

“Nay, my friend, I value Bob’s friendship too much to give in to my passion for Elanna before the wedding."  Halbarad paused a moment and turned his attention to his other boot, his voice growing sadly pensive.  "I’m worried that road will be difficult enough for her without my haste complicating matters." 

Elros nodded soberly and leaned over to grab his britches.  He knew that path.  It was the same one Halbarad's sister had traveled after her own encounter with Parcus.  Though, if he had to guess, Elros thought she had completed that journey with good results.  Nothing had been said, but all knew about the King’s messenger who had turned The Burping Troll on its ear with news of their long-lost friend, Anardil, and the emptiness of his assigned room in the morning.  It was no secret where he had spent the night.  Anoriath had been in a fine good humor that next morning and had teased Elros playfully for the first time since arriving at the Troll.  No doubt some of her tension had ridden off the grounds on the King's Man's horse.  Halbarad had taken a dim view of the proceedings at the time, but Elros remembered feeling relieved, grimly satisfied that she'd not let Parcus destroy that part of her.  Pulling on his pants, he wondered idly what her brother thought of the man now.  

While the Ranger was lost in his thoughts, Halbarad studied him.  He knew his friend to be a very private man.  Elros’ feelings may run deep but he allowed little to show on the surface.  He was not given to easy confidences, even with Halbarad, his friend for over twenty years.  To get as much as he had on the subject of his dreams out of the tight-lipped man had surprised him.  Halbarad shook his head.  He had not believed Elros when the man had irritably blurted out the name of the woman that had crept into his dreams.  Not at first, anyway.  But, the slip had inevitably piqued his curiosity and so he had bided his time and watched. 

Halbarad frowned.  It had been heartbreaking to watch his sister weep in the reflected light of the pyre that was Aglaran's boat as it burned on the Nurnen Sea.  A love wasted in the unbridged silence between the two, unacknowledged until too late.  How would he have felt if Elanna had not lived through her healing?  Shaking off the thought as intolerable, Halbarad stood and stepped over to the chair to get his shirt and belt as he tried to gauge how far he could go without offending Elros.  Surely the man saw how Anoriath's eyes followed him across any room they shared?  Two hearts scorched by the same fire of lost love, they were just as likely to lose each other if the silence between them stretched any further.  How much longer until that fragile tie broke under the strain?  

“Why haven’t you told Anoriath?” Halbarad asked just before he pulled his shirt over his head.  

“Told her what?” Elros echoed while buttoning his trousers with what seemed to be a genuine air of confusion.  

Halbarad’s eyes narrowed as he gazed at the man who coolly returned his glance.  Elros seemed just a bit too innocent.  Not upset, but he was definitely trying to fend off the question.  

Halbarad said slowly and pointedly while tucking in his shirt, pausing between each word as if Elros were hard of hearing, “Told her about you." 

“And just what am I supposed to tell her about me?” Elros responded, now frowning and adroitly sidestepping the issue one more time.  

‘He’s determined to make this difficult, isn’t he?’ Halbarad thought and resisted the urge to slap his friend across the back of his head.  ‘We’ll just have to see who is the more stubborn.’ 

“It's not Sira that haunts your dreams, my friend," Halbarad stated firmly and threw the man's tunic at him.  

Catching it, Elros let loose an explosive laugh.  "Now there you are correct!" 

But before he could go on, Halbarad shook his head in warning and interrupted him.  "Nor any other woman!" 

"No?" Elros challenged with a wry grin, though he immediately leaned over, apparently examining the hem of his wool tunic, searching for the back before throwing it over his head.  "I could say it is another, Sevilodorf for example." 

Halbarad let out an amused snort, grabbing up his own tunic from where it had lain beneath his roommate's.  "Aye, only if you no longer valued your life.  But, who do you fear more, my friend, the strong-willed woman of Rohan who could easily take your head off at the neck at your unwelcome attentions or is it the fierce retaliation of a certain one-armed man, should he hear about his beloved entertaining you while you sleep?” 

Ignoring the smirking man, Elros continued, “Our lovely elven ladies, perhaps."  He drew the folds of his tunic into his hands, having found the front.  "I do not mind my women older, but then older by several hundred years is a bit too much for me.  There are, of course, our hobbit lasses," he considered aloud and then pulled his tunic over his head.  

"Hmm, as much as Meri seemed to be awed by your chest," and here Halbarad paused to chuckle at the dark look his friend shot his direction.  "I doubt the hobbit-lasses would appreciate the, umm, compliment of being the source of a man’s dreams." 

"Aye," Elros agreed and pushed his arms through the sleeves.  "I would suffer the consequences in the worst way possible.  I, for one, do not wish to have to travel to Henneth Annun for my meals.” 

“Oh, but you wouldn’t need to, my dear Elros,” Halbarad snickered and followed his friend in his dress.  “I’m sure Gubbitch would be ecstatic to have you join 'im and the lads for meals.” 

Elros closed his eyes and shuddered.  He had overheard the orcs once describing their favorite foods.  His stomach churned a warning for him to change the direction of his thoughts.  Elros settled the tunic about his waist and yanked his belt from the floor where it had fallen during the night.  But, if he had thought this to be the end of the subject of his dreams, he was mistaken.  When Halbarad noticed the other man looking slightly green around the gills, he attempted to take advantage of Elros’ distraction.  

Without preamble he said, “For a while, I thought Anoriath might be one of your broken-winged birds.” 

Stunned at the disclosure, Elros turned his belt over in his hands, sitting on the edge of his bed and gathering his thoughts.  Halbarad turned, searching for his comb among the hastily piled effects after last night's festivities.  His friend was obviously thinking.  Let him.  The man kept more of his thoughts to himself than was good for him.  

Elros held the belt so that the rays of the morning sun filtered through the holes in the end.  The small points of light called to mind the first time he had felt the desire to kiss Anoriath.  She had been punching holes into her belt when she thought no one would find her.  He had expected to surprise her, silently stealing up on her from behind.  But it was he who ended up bewildered, set adrift by the revelation of the aftermath of her violation and just how much he was moved by her determination to save Elanna from the same fate she had suffered.  

And then that kiss in the midst of pounding thunder and rain!  Her lips had been so hot against skin chilled by wind and wet.  The agony of hearing another's name whispered in his ear.  Before he knew the impulse, Elros' head dropped to his palm and he swiped the heel of his hand against his hair, still mortified despite the cushion of spent time.  He'd not felt her lips since.  Dismayed, he listened distantly to his friend's soft movements in the room they shared and crushed the belt upon itself, the edges of the leather biting into his hands.  'One of your broken winged birds.'  

Not that he complained after each woman left, but his silent grief no doubt affected his friends.  Elros blinked, remembering Anardil's distressed and exasperated words after yet another fair love had flown from the nest he had made for her of his heart.  ‘Why don't you just take up wearing sackcloth and hand over your wallet and your common sense to the next woman who walks through the door?  You'd get the same results with half the trouble, if you ask me.’ 

'One of your broken winged birds.'  Arguing with her in the common room over her indulgence in sweets over more sustaining fare.  Firmly escorting her to her room when she nodded over her plate.  Scolding her for attempting to lift heavy burdens.  Pounding cushions until they were the perfect width to support her back.  He was certainly being obvious about it, wasn’t he?  'There he goes again,' a small voice inside him whispered.  He might as well shout it from the roof of the stables.  

Elros stared grimly at the belt in his hands, blood pounding in his ears.  He didn't think he could take his friends learning of the disappointment of his rejection.  How could he admit to feelings for Anoriath when he had no idea where her heart stood?  The humiliation he would suffer should his friends watch his heart being abandoned yet one more time was more than he could bear.  'Poor Elros," his mind told him in the voice of his friends, 'when it comes to women, he doesn't have the common-sense Eru gave sheep.' 

Elros quickly wrapped the belt around his waist, his face sober, well aware that, though Halbarad may have been moving about the room, his eyes had not wandered from his friend.  No, the man was fishing.  He knew nothing for certain.  Halbarad would say nothing until he was given permission, but the man definitely had opinions on the subject of his friend's dreams.  

Resolved to be more private with the attention he was showing Anoriath, Elros snorted lightly and pushed the tongue of the buckle through his belt.  "You don't fool me, Hal.  I know your true intent."

Halbarad, surprised, twisted back to the center of the room to see his friend.  "And what is that?" he prompted once he found his voice.

Standing to lace the length of leather about itself, Elros pulled the end into a knot with a firm jerk and bent to drag his boots from beneath his bed.  "You've made a good start with Bob, but I know you'll not rest until you've made brothers of all of the Rangers in Ithilien.  Too bad you don't have more than one sister to marry off," he said, shooting a smirking grin at his friend.

An abrupt laugh erupted from Halbarad's chest.  "So, that's my motive, is it?" 

Elros grinned slyly at the man.  "Aye, and establish a dynasty of which your mother would be proud."

Halbarad threw back his head and roared with laughter.  His mother was an ambitious woman who had wept copious tears of joy at his promotion.  Over the years, every letter he had received from his family's home had dutifully listed his title and responsibilities in a carefully clear hand.  No doubt the whole village into which he had been born was kept strictly updated on the activities of one Halbarad, son of Arahad, Captain of Rangers in Northern Ithilien, Prince Faramir's Man of The Burping Troll, Servant to Elessar Telcontar, King of Gondor and Arnor reunited.  

The son of Arahad came to his senses only to hear a quick click of the door and a call from the hall, "Better hurry, Hal!  The lasses promised special Yule pastries this morning.  Anoriath's already down there and you know her taste for sweets lately."  

He snorted and, shaking his head, hastily wrapped his belt about his waist.  He'd fallen for Elros' ploy hook, line, and sinker, distracting his captain so he could slip out the door and away from admitting his attraction to Anoriath.  'Ah, well.  You've won this sortie,' Halbarad thought and grinned, 'but it means nothing for the battle, my friend.' 

Buckling his belt as he strode from the room, Halbarad followed closely on Elros' heels as they rattled down the steps to the common room where their friends awaited them.  

Chapter Nine

Third Day of Yule
Morning

Elanna stepped into the potting shed, grateful for the warmth that greeted her.  It seemed that the temperature outside was dropping instead of rising with the sun.  That could only mean another storm was sweeping up from the sea, the only question being would it bring rain or snow?  Putting her hand to her nose that had chilled in the scant minutes it had taken her to reach the shed, she was ready to guess snow.  

She crossed to the back of the room and held her hands out to the squat, black brazier that stood in the corner.  It was sweet of the Balrog to start its fire for her.  He'd certainly have had no need for the extra warmth it provided.  At the party last night, she had told him that she would be in the shed tomorrow sorting pots for Sewulf to look at.  The demon was unlikely to have forgotten and must have lit the small fire when he was checking on the kiln early this morning.  

Elanna was grateful for the exasperated impulse that had prompted her to explain the workings of the kiln.  It had not only put a halt to his incessant questions, but the Balrog had become a welcome assistant in her endeavors.  He had gladly taken over watching the baking clay, a task he seemed to relish.  Since a Balrog’s sleep requirements were similar to that of the elves, he had set himself an around the clock schedule to check on proceedings whenever the kiln was in use.  In return for her trust, he often did little things for her when he could, such as thoughtfully starting the brazier on cold mornings when he knew she would be going to the shed.

Humming to herself, Elanna began looking over the finished pots along the wall.  She ran a finger over the smooth lip that each shelf wore to help keep the pots from accidentally sliding off.  Aerio had been most insistent on that point.  It was just one of his many ‘improvements’ that he deemed necessary after he examined Melin’s work shed from top to bottom.  She counted herself blessed by her friendships at the Troll.  They had built it for her when she was still held by the bonds of darkness, without knowing if it would ever be put to use.  Every time she passed within its door, the small shelter comforted her with their love and faith in her.  

She was almost done sorting through bowls and platters when she heard the door open behind her.  

“Come in Ani, I’m pretty well done here,” she invited without taking her eyes from the shelves.

But Elanna turned around at the sounds of more than one pair of feet coming through the door.  Anoriath was first in, but to her surprise, Sevilodorf accompanied her.  Unsure of the woman Ranger’s reasons for bringing her, Elanna decided not to comment on the other’s presence, at least not yet.

Seeing the younger woman’s sudden discomfiture, Anoriath cast about for a way to ease into the conversation that awaited them.  After giving the girl a small smile, she paced the walls of the shed, leaving Sevilodorf, after inspecting the surface carefully, to lean against a worktable.  Anoriath's eyes wandered from the carefully covered leather-hard pots awaiting trimming, to the small bucket of slip that was slowly separating into muddy curds and silty whey, to the finished pots behind Elanna.  She took a deep breath, drinking in that cool underground smell of wet earth and smiled, strongly reminded of Melin.  

Anoriath had spent many contented hours in Melin's shed, working under the close guidance of the potter and constantly searching for those rare moments when clay and hand become inseparable.  They'd not come often, but she'd been spared the frustration of their elusiveness by the distraction provided by the potter's banter.  Melin's talk was as earthy as her wares.  No subject was sacred as far as the potter was concerned.  She grinned.  Indeed, the woman would have enjoyed today's topic.  She picked up a finished piece after receiving a nod from its maker, and turned it over in her hands, admiring the dark glow of the ruddy glaze.

“I'm afraid I never quite mastered the wheel the way you have, Elanna.  But, you can imagine that my time with Melin would pass pleasantly enough despite that,” Anoriath reminisced.  “Can you guess what her favorite topic of discussion was?” she asked, glancing at the girl with a twinkle in her eye.

Thinking back to her own memories of Melin and the woman’s bawdy sense of humor, Elanna could recall one subject that was guaranteed to be brought up day after day, much to her embarrassment.  And as it always did then, a hot blush colored her face prettily, much to the other women's amusement.  Anoriath snorted a soft laugh and replaced the pot on the shelf.  Sevilodorf smiled and chuckled silently at the toe of her boot.  

“Ah.  I see our dear potter had not changed a whit since I left," drawled Anoriath fondly.  "Did she know about Halbarad?”

Elanna answered with a strangled, "Yes."

The corners of her eyes crinkling with laughter, Anoriath stood beside Sevilodorf to face Elanna fully.  She crossed her arms and leaned back against the worktable that lined the wall below the shelves.

“She would have loved that.  I’ll bet she teased you at every opportunity and then some, didn't she?”

Elanna shook her head and groaned, remembering.  How Melin's eyes had shone with amusement at her shocked reactions to the potter's sly comments about what the young woman could look forward to when she and Halbarad finally shared a bed.  The girl's discomfited smile faded as one warm statement stood out from all the others.  'Your turn will come.  The first time only comes once, and I hope it matches your dreams in every way.  The waiting truly only makes it sweeter.'  

At that thought, Elanna knew exactly what she wanted to ask.  She opened her mouth to speak but snapped it shut.  Suddenly shy, she glanced awkwardly at the Rohirrim, a gesture that didn’t go unnoticed.  

“I asked Sevilodorf to come, if you don't mind," Anoriath blurted.  "I have a feeling I can help you with some questions, but there may be others that need a different touch.”  She twisted her mouth into a wry expression.  “A touch my mother didn’t have with me and that I am well aware I did not inherit.”

As a healer for her family, Sevilodorf had gained ample experience in readying young women for their wedding, but she had been surprised when the Ranger had first described her plans for the morning.  Yet, when, over breakfast, the woman had explained what precipitated the need and confessed her reservations about her fitness to answer all of Elanna‘s questions, the Rohirrim had volunteered, blessedly ignoring Anoriath's reticence in asking for help. 

Walking into the shed, Sevilodorf reflected that the young woman, for good or ill, knew more of the physical act than most at her age would.  So unless there was something specific Elanna wanted to know, this talk would head in another direction, down a path Sevilodorf was not entirely certain she wished to walk.  Sternly she told herself, 'How many times did you wish you could have spoken with someone who would understand?'  Whether she wanted to head down that road or not, Sev determined she would do what was needed to help.

Pulling herself to standing, Sevilodorf added, “Elanna, if I make you uncomfortable, you only have to say so."  She smiled to underline her point.  “I won’t be offended and I would rather leave and let you two talk than to stay and have you not speak what needs to be said.”

Elanna nervously searched the dark blue eyes and found sympathetic warmth there that calmed and encouraged her.

“Nay, don’t go,” Elanna said to Sevilodorf, gesturing to the Rohirrim woman to sit as she brought her stool from around the wheel.  

With Melin’s words still heavy on her mind, Elanna turned to her fellow Ranger.  “Anoriath, Melin spoke to me once about first times.  Can you - what was it - ummm,” she looked at the woman pleadingly.

For a brief moment, Anoriath wondered just what she had gotten herself into and then shook her head in a short jerk.  'You know exactly how important this is and why are you embarrassed.  You’ve lived, worked and joked with men for almost twenty years.  Cannot you treat this topic with respect?'  She grimaced ruefully to herself.  One of the many crude songs she'd heard about the campfire would be easier to tell than the tale Elanna had requested.

“You want to know about my first time with a man?” Anoriath prompted pointedly, extracting the question from all the hemming and hawing coming from the young woman.

“Y-yes."  Elanna stammered awkwardly, dropping her eyes to her hands that clenched the seat of the stool.  It wasn’t the only question she had but it seemed like a good place to start.

“My first time,” Anoriath mused, rubbing her chin and staring at the floor for a moment.  She stood abruptly and turned to the shelves, letting her eyes wander over the various bowls, plates, tumblers and tureens that filled them.  

“I suppose I was lucky in my introduction," she reflected.  "I was older than you by more than seven years and had been a Ranger for longer than that.  Enough to have lost much of the innocence my mother and family attempted to foster.  Working that closely among men where privacy is a precarious thing, you can't help but hear and see things.  But up to that point, I knew more than I had experienced first hand."

Anoriath reached up a finger to gently trace the lip of a dark oval platter, recalling the bitter taste of adrenaline like copper on her tongue.  

"By that time, as a Ranger in what remained of the Northern Kingdom, I had fought in many small skirmishes.  But, on that night, the next dawn was to be my first big battle."  Visions of a small valley alive with points of light arrayed before a city at siege filled Anoriath's thoughts, a living carpet of fire skirted its stone walls.  Her hand dropped to her side, but her eyes remained fastened on the dark glaze.

"The outcome was decidedly uncertain.  We were woefully outnumbered, but no help was within reach and we must attack with the first light or lose those that we wished to defend."  

The shed was deadly quiet.  Sevilodorf stared blankly at the white glow of the brazier and Anoriath shifted on her feet uncomfortably before continuing.  

"In the dark hours of the night, you start to feel your mortality and remember the price your oath may ask you to pay.”  She'd never seen a foe so vast before and never again until Helm's Deep.  Under the weight of her dread, she knew for certain that she would not live to see the next sunset.  

Elanna raised her eyes, recalling the first time she had felt the same weight of a Ranger's oath.  She fully understood the terror that had lain like lead in her belly.  On a warm July night, she had accepted the responsibilities of the oath she had grown up with as their small troupe readied themselves to follow Tempus into battle.  It was this very night that she had felt the change in her feelings toward her brother’s best friend.  He had kissed her.  How completely her life changed after that.  Had the same thing happened to Anoriath?

“And I was certainly not the only one to feel thus," Anoriath continued.  "That is one reason why you will find so many camp followers at the fringes of a large host of men.  They would scavenge what was left behind the next day.  But before then, they had other ways of eking out a living, providing a refuge from fear, if only for a brief time.” 

She paused and turned to see if the young woman had understood.

Elanna gazed at the Ranger pensively.  She had heard men at the station speak of this.  Only a few times, and only when she was where she wasn’t supposed to be, listening to the men talk of battle and peace, reminiscing the good and the bad.  She hadn’t the life experience back then to comprehend the feelings that drove them at those times, but she did now.

Seeing that she understood, Anoriath nodded and continued, leaning back against the bench and gripping its edges for balance.  “I didn't have that option, however," she said and shrugged.  "I could only think of all the things I'd wished I'd done, that I was sure I'd never have the chance to do.  Being around the men I knew was no help.  All I saw was my own thoughts reflected in their eyes.  Luckily, there were those who knew to shore up our resolve else we'd crumble before the first wave of our attack.  One of these was our captain.  We'd followed his lead more than once already and he was well liked and trusted.  He knew it was my first battle."  She paused again, her eyes losing their focus.

***

“Anoriath?” Aneirin called softly, putting a question mark at the end of her name.  His eyes had followed her when the young Ranger had sought out a spot hidden from the rest of the company.  Though he understood her need for solitude, it would not be good for any of their company to relax their guard.  He found her perched upon a flat boulder that jutted at a gentle angle from the ground.

“Aneirin."  She nodded sharply, answering more curtly than she had intended.

She released a small sigh of relief when he ignored her shortness with him and simply came to stand by her.  But still, she stiffened when he set a hand on her shoulder.  She sent a quick silent prayer to Eru.  'Please do not let him try to comfort me.  It is the last thing I need right now.’  Any tenderness would break through her attempt to control the fear that roiled in her stomach with her last meal.  Meeting his gaze she saw no sign of the feared consolation that she expected, yet she still could not relax under his grip.

“You are ready?” was all he asked, to her grateful surprise.

“Aye,” she replied, dropping his eyes, hoping it to be true.  If she could not survive the onslaught, she wished only that she would not shame herself in meeting her death.  

Aneirin lifted his hand to unpin his cloak, spreading it on the boulder next to her before sitting down.  In companionable silence, they watched the dark shapes of men around their unlit camp, some as they moved about, restless, and some as they readied themselves for bed in an attempt to get some much-needed sleep.  Sentries melted into the trees, their eyes occasionally glinting in the dark.  Others were conspicuously absent, though Anoriath was painfully aware where they lay.  Murmurs drifted to them on the night breeze.  Each prepared themselves for the next day’s battle in the way that suited them best.

After a while, Aneirin spoke again, reflecting in a soft voice.  “Oft times, before a battle such as we face when the sun rises again, I find a place where I can sit and think away from everyone, like this rock you have chosen,” he said, patting the hands-breath of stone surface between them.  “I search my mind for something I have not done, something I would regret not doing if I were to fall to an enemy’s sword.  When I find it, I promise myself that when the fighting is done, I will do that one thing,” he paused and shifted his seat to face Anoriath who turned at the whisper of cloth on stone.  “What would you wish to do when you are through?”

She regarded the man beside her.  Dark hair liberally sprinkled with well-earned gray that shone silver in what little moonlight there was.  Clear gray eyes that remained calm even in combat, a trait many wished to emulate.  She knew from living in close quarters that the body beneath the clothes was long and lean but well muscled with only an infrequent scar to proclaim his profession.  Anoriath turned away and swallowed hard.  The fear of battle to come or the fear of what she was about to do, she wasn't sure, which she could tolerate least.  She'd hidden any sign, but this was not the first time she'd thought of him thus.  Until now, she had resolutely pushed such images away.  She knew that the question was not what she wished to do after the battle but what she wished to do before.

She offered in low voice, “The one thing I would regret not doing would have to be done before I face the enemy, not after."  

Puzzled by her answer, he searched for her eyes.  Comprehension dawned when she placed her hand on his chest.  The beginnings of desire stirred in the eyes she lifted to his.  He did not answer but neither did he remove her hand, his mind racing through the possible ramifications of his actions should he allow himself to answer her wish.  Racking his memories, he could not recall hearing of a single incident between this Ranger and one of the men to guide him.  He, like most of the men, respected Anoriath for the passion with which she pursued her duties and thought of her as one of them, many times forgetting that she was a woman.  

But looking at her now, he could see her longing clearly pooling in her eyes, the light blue-gray irises had widened to resemble rings of polished steel, wet steel.  Suddenly, he saw the woman, no beauty by any man’s standards but desirable in a way that he had never noticed before and, to his surprise, he found himself responding to her.  It was in that glimpse that he discovered his answer.

Aneirin covered her hand with his and leaned in.  “May I help you make sure you do not have cause to feel that regret?” he asked, eyes still locked on each other, lips almost touching.

“Aye,” she breathed as she closed the distance between them, pressing her lips to his.

***

Anoriath smiled in remembrance.  “When he asked what I wanted to do most when the battle was over, I could only think of one thing.  Fortunately, I didn’t shock him too much when I told him what I wanted needed to be done before, as I was sure there would be no 'after.'”

This admission shocked Elanna so badly that she almost fell off her stool.  “You mean you told him you wanted to … you said it out loud!”

Laughing in delight at the expression on the young girl‘s face, Anoriath explained, “No, no, even I’m not as brazen as that.  But a look and a gesture were all that was needed."  She wiped her eyes free of the amused tears she couldn’t control and settled back down to her tale.  “He understood without much prompting and, indeed, he was most cooperative, at least, at first.”

********

Aneirin had unbound her hair as they kissed, running his fingers through her tresses to unwind the plait.  She'd started off just simply opening her lips to his caresses, but slowly had come to return his kisses with an unanticipated insistence.  He pulled his hands from her hair and curled them around Anoriath, under her arms.  With her securely in his embrace he slowly stood, lifting her with him until they stood face to face, never releasing her lips.  Now the awkwardness of sitting was gone and he held her to him as she planted her arms around his back.  She seemed not to know what else to do with them.  Warning bells rang in his head.

Aneirin pulled back and held her away from him.  He took in the pronounced rise and fall of her chest, while she awaited his next move.  She was certainly not one to approach encounters passively.  Yet, could he be mistaken? 

“Never?” he asked simply.

Anoriath jerked herself from what was left of his embrace.  She took a step back, though her ardor was not dimmed in the slightest by his reaction.  It was sure to be only a temporary setback.

“And what difference would that make?” she asked with her arms crossed and chin tilted at an insolent angle.

He gazed coolly back at her.  “Because I am not in the habit of taking from a maiden what should be saved for her husband.  Regardless of the age of the maiden,” he added when Anoriath opened her lips to protest.

***

Sevilodorf raised a brow, amused.  She could easily imagine the older man’s initial unexpected thrill and then dismay upon discovering that the willing woman in his arms had not been with a man before.  The confusion between the two must have dampened his ardor as well as his cooperation.  Sevilodorf grinned softly at her reflections.  How that must have aggravated the younger Anoriath.  It likely had only stubbornly strengthened her determination to rid herself of her maiden status.

Elanna, however, couldn’t imagine what would make a man change his mind so abruptly.  Did he suddenly find Anoriath repulsive?  Was he married and had an attack of conscious thinking of the wife he had left behind?  Or was it as simple as he had heard someone coming?  

To her surprise, the puzzled look on the young woman's face gratified Anoriath, and she paused in the telling of her tale to wink at Sevilodorf.  So much of the girl's innocence had been stolen from her, yet she had somehow managed to retain a small portion for her own.  The knowing grin on the Rohirrim woman's face for the Ranger could only mean that Sevilodorf, despite her appreciation for the character of the man Anoriath was describing, knew the man stood no chance.

‘And she would be guessing correctly,’ Anoriath thought smugly.

Glancing back and forth between the two women, Elanna lost her patience.  Her curiosity could wait no longer.  She prodded Anoriath to continue, “What do you mean he was cooperative at first?  Why did he change his mind?”

“Why did he change his mind?” Anoriath echoed back, a mischievous smile on her lips as she slowly walked across the room to her seat, teasing the girl for her eagerness.  “I believe he thought it would not be an honorable act to take what was not his by legal right, no matter the woman's lack of innocence and her willingness.”

Elanna was more confused than ever.  She now understood why he would no longer wish to go through with the act.  But then how could he have been Anoriath’s first?  There must be more to the tale or there wouldn’t be a tale to tell.

“But, you said he was your first," Elanna prompted, trying to make sense of it all.

“Let’s just say I convinced him to change his mind again,” Anoriath said, grinning saucily and sitting with her arms crossed and legs stretched out in front of her.

Sevilodorf snorted and shifted her position on her stool with a toss of her head.  “I bet.”

***

Anoriath glared at Aneirin, matching him brow for brow.  A silver-gray line of defiance smoldered from beneath her eyes and smote him in the chest.  He shook his head imperceptibly.  If she continued to stare at him like that he'd have no chance, no matter what his principles.  He couldn't help but wonder if she knew that.  Catching the small twitch at the corner of her mouth, the lines about Aneirin's eyes crinkled just below that of a smile.  So, she did, then.

She lifted her chin.  “Since I have no plans to marry," she said.  "Tell me just what the point is of withholding your touch.  My body is mine, to save or give as I choose,” she reminded him, stepping back towards him and placing her hands on his chest once more.  “I will not risk death without experiencing that which you men take for granted.  And if I choose to give it to you, certainly I have that right.”

Considering her words, he allowed Anoriath to draw him into a light embrace.  As much as he hated to admit it, Aneirin had to acknowledge the truth of what she had said.  She lived with them and fought with them, sharing the same risks as they.  Did this not earn her the right to find her comfort and courage as they did?  He smiled, staring into the pale blue eyes before him and thinking how right he was to compare their color to steel.  The color was a dead giveaway to the strength and determination of the woman who owned them.  

“Forgive me, you are right," he said, smiling ruefully as he returned her embrace.  Was she right?  Or perhaps she had done nothing more than to help him find an honorable path around his principles.  Either way, he was finding it difficult to consider such deep matters.  

"We - I do take that for granted" he agreed and leaned forward.  He didn’t have to bend far as tall as she was, and lightly brushed her lips with his.  “I accept your gift, but understand this, it is a gift I do not take lightly.”

Anoriath withdrew her arms to slide them around his neck.  “I understand,” she breathed into her kiss.

***

"Oh," was all Elanna could think to say, greatly torn.  Part of her desperately wanted to ask just what means the woman had employed to change her Captain's mind and another part sat in shock, barely resisting the impulse to run from the shed with her hands clapped over her ears. 

“Eru must have been watching over me,” Anoriath mused, contemplating the ceiling of the shed.  She watched out of the corner of her eye to see if Elanna would take the bait.  

She did.

“Why do you say that?” Elanna asked, puzzled.

Anoriath switched her gaze to Elanna.  “I say that because the man I chose made it his responsibility that I should know the full joy of womanhood.  He said I deserved to feel as if it were my wedding night and he was my groom, not just a man to serve the purpose.”

She paused at Elanna’s rapt expression.  ‘Good’ she thought, ‘now she’s thinking of what Halbarad‘s goal should be.’ 

“He was a man of his word,” Anoriath said finally, standing again.  “He taught me things that I would not have known but for his patience and delight in my response to him.”

Her hands on her hips, she stretched and then absentmindedly paced the small room.  It came as a bit of surprise that Aneirin’s memory had brought a warmth with it, a pleasant surprise.  Pleasant enough that she dared not let her thoughts linger on that long ago night.  Her body appeared to have its own memory and its reactions were beginning to be a bit uncomfortable for her.  'Who’s the idiot who thought pregnant women lost all their desire?'  

Elanna closed her eyes to Anoriath’s movements and thought back to the kiss on the stairs.  In the flush of her love, there had been no room to think of anything but the music Halbarad had played on her.  His touch and his lips brought forth a tune of exquisite delight.  No minor chords or shadowed notes had sounded in the music they shared.  She wished the song had gone on forever.  But, still, a dark thought troubled her in the clear light of day.  Could it have gone further?  What guarantee did she have that ghosts of her past would not come back to haunt her when her love's touch unwittingly mirrored that of Parcus?  Hadn’t she said as much to Halbarad last night?  Her eyes snapped open.

“Ani, what about the first time after…” Elanna’s voice trailed off and she had to clear her throat before she could go on, "after Parcus ra-, after what he did to you?”

The question nailed Anoriath’s feet to the floor in mid-step.  She shivered involuntarily as all warmth from Aneirin’s memory fled, leaving her cold.  The Ranger gritted her teeth, irritated that even now the thought of that soulless elf could produce a physical reaction in her.  She should have realized that Elanna would make the connection fairly quickly between one first time and the other.  The girl’s worries and fears would demand it.

Sev clasped her hands together tightly.  Memories long walled away burst free with Elanna's strangled words.  The sharpness of stones beneath her back.  The overpowering smell of stale ale.   The coppery taste of blood.  Her hand crept up to tough the faint scar on her left cheek.  Closing her eyes, Sev willed herself to remain seated, displaying none of her internal anguish.  ‘Nmad Anoriath for bringing me here.'

Slowly, Sev gained control over her thoughts and forced herself to focus on Anoriath's words.

“I take it this means you heard about the King's messenger?” Anoriath inquired, idly curious where Elanna gained this knowledge, though she guessed it didn’t really matter.  She grimaced pensively.  This story would reveal much that she'd not shared before.  Taking a deep breath, she dove in.  

"When he first rode up to the Troll, I was surprised to find that wanting there.  Desiring and feeling that pleasure were parts of me I honestly thought were lost forever."  She resumed her pacing.  " But, Elanna, the desire was not enough,” Anoriath warned.  “I desired the pleasure I found at his touch, but it was not enough.  I wanted it but I feared it just as equally.  To fully experience the pleasure, I would have to trust him and leave myself completely vulnerable in his hands."  She stopped and turned so that she could see the young woman watching her.  "You can imagine the difficulty that presented.”

Though she may attempt to keep her thoughts firmly attached to the present, Sevilodorf heard the echoes of a low voice and the ghostly feel of a gentle touch, 'I told you I will not hurt you.  I am not some overeager young fool.  Will you not trust me in this?'  Plainly spoken words.  But her late husband had ever been a plain-speaking man.  Still, they had served their purpose of allowing her to begin to move beyond the fear of pain.  Such words would do little comfort Elanna.  What words had Anoriath heard?

“You mean, you thought the messenger was him at some point?” Elanna asked, not quite understanding.

“No, no."  Anoriath shook her head and stood still for a moment, rubbing her chin and thinking.  “But it didn't seem to matter.  I was perfectly balanced between the wanting and the fear, and for a short time the fear won out.”

“What did he do?” Elanna asked, intently curious.  She was completely immersed in Anoriath’s tale, Sevilodorf’s presence forgotten for the moment.  Somewhere in here were the answers she needed.  If Anoriath could break the bonds of the past then there had to be hope for her.  She didn’t want to be the source of any more hurt for her beloved.

“Aye, well, he was clever enough to avoid sweet comforting words.  I'm not sure I would have reacted to them well,” Anoriath turned her head sharply to Sevilodorf at the sound that was somewhere between a muffled cough, a snort and a comment.  “He teased me, instead.”

“But you did?” Elanna asked attentively.

“I did?  Oh, aye, I did.  I was able to find a way past the fear,” Anoriath replied.  “It didn’t hurt that he used almost the same words Aneirin did so many years ago.”

“What were those if you don’t mind me asking?” 

Two dark heads swiveled towards the voice.  So engrossed had Anoriath and Elanna been that they had almost forgotten Sevilodorf’s presence as she quietly listened. 

Anoriath cleared her throat, coloring a little before she responded, puzzled by the intimacy of the question she had been asked.  “I still remember Aneirin's exact words.  He said, ‘As you would trust me to lead you into battle, trust me to show you your desire. Let me see your passion.'" 

“Oh, how romantic,” Elanna breathed, to Anoriath's amusement.  The young woman's eyes glowed.  "And what did the King's messenger say?”

Sevilodorf winked at Anoriath, who blinked in sudden understanding of the reasoning that lay behind the woman's uncharacteristic breach of privacy.  Anoriath strode across the small room until she was directly in front of Elanna.

She cleared her throat again and, this time, caught Elanna's eye steadily.  “I want you, Lady Ranger.  I want to see your passion.  Show me your desire.”

“Ohhhh Ani,” Elanna whispered, her eyes filling.

Sev gave a small smile in remembrance of another man and a walk along a dock in Pelargir.  Did all of the King's Men have such glib tongues?  Was flowery language something they took lessons in along with the Sindarin tongue and the history of Numenor, or did it just come naturally?

Brushing the back of her hand along Elanna’s cheek and smiling at the girl's reaction, Anoriath recognized just how grateful she was to have had both men at times when she needed them.  The experience could easily have been very different. 

“Ani,” Elanna whispered again, her eyes still brimming with unshed tears but of a different kind now.  “I want Halbarad.  I want to hear him say pretty things like that.  I want … but … what if…” 

Anoriath clasped the young woman's shoulder for a moment, trying to think of a way she could help the upset girl see how it would be different with Halbarad.  

Releasing her, she asked, “Do you remember what Halbarad said to you, the first thing he said when you came back from that other place with Celebsul, when you were healed?” 

“Yes,” the young Ranger said softly, swallowing hard.  “He said … that was not how it was supposed to be.”

Anoriath nodded quickly.  “He was right.  Parcus took every kiss, every caress shared by a man and a woman and turned them into a sick travesty of the act of love,” she said, brushing back a lock of Elanna‘s hair.  “How did it feel when Halbarad kissed you?”

“Wonderful!"  Elanna burst out, her smile chasing away her tears.

Anoriath grinned in return.  Though a heartfelt answer, it wasn‘t the one she was looking for.  “Hmm, let me try this again.  How did it feel, physically, when he kissed you?”

Elanna chewed her bottom lip while she thought.  “You mean like that his lips were soft and warm?” she questioned in return.

Nodding, Anoriath said, “Aye, if that’s how it felt, that’s what I meant.”

“Oh, I see,” Elanna exclaimed.  “Well it did feel like that and his breath was warm, almost hot, against my cheek,“ she said, raising her hand to that place.  “I remember that.”

“Sounds nice,” Anoriath teased gently.  Sobering, she prompted, “Now, tell me, what did it feel like when Parcus kissed you?”

Shocked, Elanna started to ask, “But how did you know he kissed-” But her words failed her when she realized that, having had her own encounter with the raider, of course the woman would know.

Alarmed by the expression on the young woman's face, Anoriath quickly sought to set her aright.  “Nay, he relied on physical power to overcome my defenses.  He had no time to toy with me as he did with you.”  She smiled grimly.  “Not to mention that he had no desire to lose his tongue, lips or anything else he was foolish enough to put too close to my teeth.”

It took a moment for what the ‘anything else’ might be to register and when it did, she suddenly felt ill.  Her eyes closed and her stomach clenched as she thought.  ‘Ani, oh Ani, what did he try to do to you?’ Elanna swallowed heavily and she opened her eyes, the picture forming on the back of her eyelids was more than she wanted to see.  

“Elanna?” Anoriath questioned worriedly, placing a hand to the girl’s shoulder and giving her a quick shake.

Elanna looked up at Anoriath, realizing the woman was still waiting for an answer to her question.  Resolutely throwing off her morbid thoughts of a moment ago she gave her reply.

“His kiss.  His lips were hard and he hurt me with them.”  Elanna unconsciously held her hands together, fingers tightly clenched.  “When he tried to be tender, they felt slimy, like a snail crossing my skin and leaving a trail.”

Anoriath‘s heart dropped, sickened, but pressed on resolutely.  Recovering from her assault, the older Ranger had had the advantage of prior experience of a passion based on mutuality of affection.  Elanna had not.  “So, the same act, a kiss but with two entirely different results.”

At her words, Elanna examined the two very different sensations and began to comprehend the truth Anoriath was attempting to bring to light.  When Halbarad kissed her, there was no comparison with Parcus' lips.  The difference between night and day could not have been more striking.  

Sevilodorf witnessed silently.  Her sympathies were with the struggling girl.  As difficult as it was for Elanna, it was best done now.  Like all young women before they marry she needed to be prepared, but in such a heartbreakingly different way that Sev had to keep her jaw clenched against the impulse to cry out to stop.  Oh why did she agree to come in the first place?  She had been of little use so far.

Holding her hands behind her back, Anoriath pressed on.  “You said Halbarad stroked your back, the bare skin with the scars?”

A dreamy expression stole across Elanna's face.  She needed no prompting as long as it concerned her Halbarad.  “Yes, he did.  He was ever so loving and his hands, his fingertips were warm and gentle.”

“And Parcus?”

Elanna closed her eyes and bit her lip, all peace gone from her face.  While remembering no longer brought her the pain it once had, she still didn’t care to do it.  If anyone else had asked her these questions, she never would have answered no matter what the aim of the interrogation.  She took a deep shaky breath and slowly let it out.

“His touch was … cold, no, not cold but cool,” she corrected herself.  “A serpent slithering over my skin, cool and dry."  Elanna held herself while she spoke as if to fend off the remembered unwanted caresses.  “Especially when it was just his fingertips."  She shivered and held herself tighter.  “The only time his hand felt truly cold was when he,” she stopped abruptly and squeezed her eyes tightly shut.  She couldn’t say it.

Elanna groaned in frustration.  She couldn’t go on.  She could only pull her legs up and wrap her arms around her shins and squeeze for all she was worth.  Her breath came in ragged gasps and she shivered violently from a cold chill that spread from the inside out.  Arms stole around her and Anoriath’s warmth seeped its way through her skin to the frozen core.  Gradually the tremors stopped and Elanna found that her arms ached when she let go of her legs, she had held on so tightly.

“I’m sorry, Elanna,” Anoriath apologized into her hair, sighing contritely.

Because Parcus had not accomplished what he had hoped to with the girl, she had thought that Elanna had been spared other indignities as well.  Obviously she had thought wrong.

“Nay, don’t be sorry.  It’s not like it was before, but still, every now and then he touches me from beyond the grave before I can stop him,” Elanna said with a wan smile that came and quickly slid away.  Her gaze strayed from Anoriath’s as she pulled back from the older woman‘s embrace and pleaded with her, “Ani, please tell me it won’t be like that, promise me it won’t.  Tell me that Hal will make it different, please?” 

Anoriath swallowed heavily.  “Halbarad’s kiss, his touch, they may at times seem like a mirror to the other’s, but in your heart, your love and your passion for him will only need a spark to burst into flame and then, I promise, it will only be you and him.”

At a loss for how to convince the girl, it was pure frustration for Anoriath to see the doubt that still swam in Elanna's eyes. 

"I know you want to believe what Anoriath is saying, but a voice inside is telling you how can she know when it was so different for her, am I right?" Sevilodorf asked, standing and walking to the two women.  "She had to regain what she had already known, while you have never experienced it."

At Sevilodorf's voice, Anoriath released the young woman and stepped back.

Elanna nodded and Sevilodorf continued, "You fear that when the time comes, your mind will know it is Halbarad but your body will only remember that beast's touch?"

"Yes," Elanna whispered, unable to meet the eyes of either woman.

'That beast's touch!'  To bring such shame and dread into this young woman's life!  Sev fought to keep from betraying her inner turmoil.  Nothing would be served here by giving the girl more examples of beastly behavior.  She must be pointed to the future.

"You already know that is not true," she alleged to Elanna's surprise.

The girl raised her startled eyes and fixed her gaze on the woman.  She did?

"Think on what you just said and you will see that your body and your heart recognize the difference already."  As the girl's face turned inward, Sev added softly, "Allow them to convince your mind that it need not be unpleasant.  Also, with the right man, it can be quite nice."

With that, Sevilodorf turned to glare at Anoriath who had suddenly broken into a smug grin over the girl's head.

But before the Rohirrim could draw herself up to reprimand the Ranger, Anoriath interrupted her with a chuckle, "Aye, I do happen to remember a few nice moments between you and a certain wayward Ranger on the road back from Nurn."

"Quite nice!" Elanna exclaimed happily, her features brightening as if a sun emerging from behind clouds.  She too remembered the quiet moments between the two, a hand that met and lingered just a little too long, a look that contained more warmth than friendship allowed, and a dawn that illuminated blanketed forms that had drifted toward each other in their sleep.

Elanna giggled.  “I think Dilly would rather be referred to as wonderful, manly, strong, anything but nice!”

Anoriath grinned at Sevilodorf's discomfort.  She'd thought the woman had given up attempting to hide her regard for the distant Ranger since she had returned from visiting him in Pelargir.  Should Anardil ever come to see his love at the Troll, knowing Hal or Bob, she'd likely find herself the butt of a fair amount of teasing if she kept this attitude up.  Ah well, unless they wanted more than a passing acquaintance with the many knives Sev kept secreted about her person, perhaps they could use the opportunity to learn some much-needed discretion.  

Sevilodorf frowned at the girl in mock seriousness, sliding from her perch to her feet with her hands on her hips.  “Don’t sass me, young lady, just because you’ve known him longer!" she admonished.  “When you’ve been with your captain, stubborn man that he is, then you can be as descriptive as you want.”

“When I’ve been with my captain,” Elanna whispered to herself as she wiped tears of laughter from her eyes.

“Elanna," Anoriath said when their amusement died down.  "If there comes a time when you find yourself in Halbarad’s arms as you did last night-” She paused, searching for the right words.  “If you find that you are both being carried away by your passion, let it happen," she advised urgently.  "Sev can tell you.  I can tell you.  But it is only words."  Anoriath cupped the abruptly quiet girl’s chin in her hand.  “Only when you feel the pleasure that is to come at his hands will you truly understand.  When you find yourself crying out his name without Parcus’ shadowing your joy, you will know.”

Elanna stared into Anoriath‘s eyes.  “His name,” she said softly and blinked back the returning threat of tears.  “I do trust him completely and I will remember your advice, all of it,” she emphasized.  “Thank you both for your patience and your honesty.  I don’t know what I would have done without you.”

Feeling better about having come than when she entered the shed, Sevilodorf started to say, “Your time will come and it will-.”

The door abruptly swung wide without so much as a knock upon it and Sev bit down on the words that had been about to pass her lips.  All eyes turned to the door to find Halbarad with Sewulf behind him, ducking his head beneath the low lintel.  

“And it will be what?” Halbarad interrupted, wondering, now that his Elanna had turned the color of a ripe strawberry, what the women could possibly have been talking about. 

Sevilodorf jumped in to fill the gap with the first thing she could think of, hoping it was close enough to the truth to serve.  “It will be a blessing for her to be able to return to her uniform and the work she loves," the Rohirrim blurted to the amazement of the two female Rangers beside her.  

Halbarad’s brow slanted upwards and a rakish grin lifted the corners of his mouth.

Elanna found it difficult to find words to advance the covering story under that look, but she was not about to confess the true nature of their conversation.  

“Uh, I, uh," she fumbled.  "I was asking Anoriath if there was any way I could start working again sooner without having to wait for Faramir’s permission,” she said nervously, but with returning vigor.  “I know I’m ready.  You know I’m ready.  I told you last night.”

“True,” Halbarad agreed easily, “ but I only have your word.  I haven’t seen you spar, so I don’t know for certain that you are physically ready.  To know if your mind is free of shadows, I may need another test of just how clear it is, such as I had last night,” he drawled and smiled sensuously, his desire shimmering in his eyes.

Elanna was instantly lost in the smoldering passion of his gaze, much to the amusement of the two women.  They turned their heads and discretely hid their smiles in polite coughs and a scratch behind the ear.  It took a moment for the intent of his words to register in Elanna's thoughts.

“Halbarad!"  Elanna shrieked, jumping from her stool when it did and turning an even more violent shade of red.

“Be careful what you ask for, brother dear,” Anoriath smirked behind crossed arms, her eyes dancing.

Halbarad glanced sharply at his sister, his comprehension of what he had interrupted just starting to take shape.

Gaining back a semblance of control Elanna said pertly, “If you want me to spar with you to prove I’m fine, you just name the time and the place."  With just the hint of a smile, she threw Halbarad a sidelong glance that sent a spine-tingling thrill running through him.  "Any other demonstrations will have to be negotiated on an individual basis."  

Halbarad reminded himself to breathe.  The fact that she had no idea of how provocative she looked when she did that only made the kick more intense and focusing on her words that much more difficult.

“Until then, couldn’t I at least make perimeter runs with someone?” Elanna implored in an anxious attempt to rationalize why he should comply.  “I wouldn’t be by myself so it's not like you’re leaving me on duty or anything.  Call it training, refreshing or say it’s a chance to evaluate me out in the field.  I don’t care, just please let me do something.”

“Elanna…” he said, shrugging his shoulders and spreading his hands helplessly.

“Please understand, Hal, I don’t mind doing the paperwork.  It's better than nothing and,” Elanna gave him an impish grin, “at least you can read my handwriting."  

Halbarad clucked sharply at her.  “Now wait just a minute, there is nothing wrong with my handwriting!"  he insisted, feigning indignation.

“I know,” she hurried to placate him even though she knew he was teasing her.  “And it was kind of you to make that excuse to let me have something to do, but I would truly like to do more."  

“She’s got a point, Halbarad,” Anoriath interjected.  “If you can document that you’ve evaluated her in whatever ways are necessary, your word will weigh heavily in her favor with Faramir.”

Halbarad‘s smile seemed out of place with the grimace that twisted the rest of his features.  "I’ll admit I had hoped that this would not come up for a little while longer.  In truth I am loath to allow you to return to duty, but that is just my selfish heart wanting to keep you near me and safe."  The Ranger captain sighed, knowing when to give in.  “After Yule I will start the evaluation and yes, you can start short perimeter runs with someone.”

Elanna catapulted herself into his arms.  “Oh, thank you, Hal!  Thank you!  Thank you!  Thank you!” she cried, punctuating each exclamation of appreciation with a kiss on various parts of his face until the last one landed on his lips and seemed to stick there.  Their embrace tightened as the kiss deepened.

“Ahem,” Sewulf growled, inserting his comment into their consciousness.  “I thought I was coming out here to look at pots not view a one-act play about a lovesick couple.”

Halbarad and Elanna broke apart, grinning sheepishly.

“I should say I’m sorry, but I won’t,” Elanna retorted as she stepped back to the shelves, “because I have some things that just might interest you.”

“Don’t be too confident, my girl.  How do I know that last batch wasn’t just a lucky fluke!"  Sewulf shot right back, vainly trying to suppress a smile.

Elanna laughed heartily.  “Sewulf, a swelled head is something I will never need to fear as long as I have you.”

“And what do you find so funny, cousin?” Sewulf asked Sevilodorf who had joined Elanna in her laughter, as had Halbarad and Anoriath.

“Always the trader, aren’t you,” Sevilodorf clucked her tongue at her younger kin.

“No more than you, cousin,” Sewulf countered.

“Now this sounds like a family argument if I ever heard one,” Halbarad concluded, holding his hands up to separate himself from the cousins.  “I only came out to show Sewulf where the shed was.  With that done, I think I’ll make my escape back to the Troll.”

Anoriath strode quickly to his side.  “I’ll join you.  Elanna and I have discussed all we were going to.  Sevilodorf?” she asked, glancing back at the Rohirrim woman.

“I think I’ll stay here a bit longer," she answered.  With a deceptively straight face she added, “I need to make sure this is a fair bargain.”

Halbarad and Anoriath hurried out the door but could still hear Sewulf as he roared, “What do you mean make sure it is a fair bargain!  Elanna, did I cheat you on the last one?”

It wasn’t until they entered the kitchen that they lost the sound of his raised voice.

Chapter Ten

Third Day of Yule
Mid morning

“Halbarad!  Stop that!"  Anoriath exhorted indignantly, taking a swipe at her brother’s hand and missing completely.

Halbarad laughed at the ease with which he was able to dodge her blow and finished propping his sister’s feet on the thick feather pillows he had placed on the chair facing her.  He reflected on the changes her advancing pregnancy had wrought.  A couple of months ago she wouldn’t have missed him but now little things, like leaning forward while sitting, had become so difficult that they verged on the impossible.  

“Anoriath, shut up and don’t argue with me,” Halbarad retorted genially, unperturbed by his sister‘s glare.  “Don't forget Faramir's command that you prove that you can comply with your superior's wishes without protest."

'Ha!" she protested.  "I think he hardly had this in mind when he put that expectation on me."  She glowered sourly at him and snatched up the napkin her brother had just lain across her lap and smoothed it back into place, dropping the linen only slightly higher than he had set it originally.

Halbarad plopped heavily onto a chair, seating himself next to his sister at the table in the Ranger's office.  He pulled the plate of corner-filling snacks, as Camellia called it, across the table.  After a moment of watching his sister shoot surreptitious glances at their second breakfast, he pushed it closer to her.  She grunted with a toss of her head to let him know she had seen the gesture and gave the napkin another unnecessary tug.  Acting as though he hadn’t heard her, he commenced with the pouring of the tea.

“Honestly, you’d think I had broken all my limbs and lost my mind the way everyone constantly fusses over me!" she insisted forcefully, attempting unsuccessfully to bend forward enough to reach the plate.  “As much as Sevilodorf tries to be discreet, I just know she's watching me closely.  And the hobbits have been relentless!  Truly I am grateful for their attention.  But, if I thought the Daisy whatever-her-name-was treatment was preposterous-"  

She rocked on her spine, attempting to put some momentum into her forward movement.  

"The elves, of course, know more about my pregnancy than I do.  Belegalda has been asking me to set aside some time for him.  Eru knows what he'll have to say.  Did I tell you that Azaelia's little one seems to think that the child is Aglaran's?  Or something like that, I'm not really sure what she sees."  

Halbarad serenely pulled a mug toward him and poured a second cup of tea, watching his sister's efforts from the corner of his eye.  No, she hadn't reached the plate yet.  He suppressed a chuckle.  Giving up, Anoriath attempted to lift her legs off the plush cushions, figuring that, maybe if she could just get her feet on the floor then she could lean forward enough to get some breakfast.  

Halbarad turned his head to hide his laughter and, covering quickly, muttered thickly, "Sugar?"

"Yes, please," she shot back, mercifully aware only of her efforts to reach the platter of food.  "Not that I mind you or Elanna or our friends touching me, but you'd think I was a mascotted cow for as often as my belly has been petted.  And by complete strangers!  I'm beginning to understand why our mother loathed carrying us and reminds us of the indignity so often."  

She gripped the sides of her seat for leverage, struggling again to lift her legs from the high mound of pillow on which they were apparently pinioned, effectively shackled as if she had been in irons.  The metallic clank of spoon against the mug echoed below Anoriath's voice as, without losing a breath despite her exertions she continued, "And we have to do something about Elros.  He can't seem to leave me alone!  The man would follow me into the privy if I let him.  I swear, Halbarad, I will not be responsible for my actions if he keeps hovering over me like this."

Unable to lift her leg from her position, Anoriath shifted her hands to the front of her seat and attempted to scoot her hips forward, hoping to be able to at least bend her knees if she got closer to her makeshift footrest.  Then she might be able to slide her feet off the pillow and onto the floor.

"Now it seems I must add you to that list of mother-hens,” she complained, scowling at her legs.

Halbarad took a quick sip from his mug while setting his sister's down on the edge of the table within her reach with a thump.  The cushions slid across the smooth seat with Anoriath's shift in her chair, impeding her ability to shorten the distance between her belly and her feet.  

She finally let out an annoyed huff of breath and exclaimed, "Oh, sweet Eru!"  She turned to her brother and, finding him grinning silently at her over his mug, shouted, "For pity's sake, Hal!  Help me!"

The man exhaled an abrupt laugh and, sputtering his tea, plopped his mug to the tabletop and leaned out of his chair to resettle his sister in her seat.

"There, there, now, Anoriath," he soothed, chuckling when she swatted at his hands.  

She snorted, clearly annoyed.  "Am I that incapable?" she demanded and rested back against her chair and fussed with her napkin.  

“Did I ever say you were?”  Halbarad smiled at her and picked up a small plate.  "But I am enjoying myself at the moment, so relax.  Take your tea.  I'll fix some food for you."  A teasing grin spread across his face and he winked at her.  “You may never get this kind of attention from me again.”

He almost mentioned that she need not mourn the lack, as his were not the only attentions she enjoyed.  But, recalling Elros’ reticence this morning to admit to the obvious, he kept his silence.  He had done what he could but the next play was up to his friend.  Picking through the treats, he selected thin slices of smoked ham and pickled peaches, adding them to her plate along with a thick slice of hot dark bread and a pat of butter.  He smiled to himself, reflecting that, since Elanna was now sure to return his attentions and Anardil had lost himself in Sevilodorf's arms, if Elros and Anoriath ever saw past their foolishness that would leave only Bob to keep the pact of their youth to remain unattached.  

“Right,” Anoriath snorted at him, “and I’m the Queen of Gondor."  She took a small sip of her tea and added as she looked over the rim of her mug, “Some of the pastries, too."

"After you finish this," he commanded and held her plate toward her.

She pursed her lips and jerked it from his hands with a shake of her head.  “You are incorrigible!  You know that, don’t you?”  She set down her mug, none too gently, on the table.

Halbarad grinned and turned to fill his own plate as he answered her.  “I believe our mother was fond of telling me that."  

She couldn’t stop the expression of painful distaste that quickly flew across her features.  Halbarad understood its meaning at once.  

“You haven’t written to her yet,” he stated bluntly.

Anoriath groaned, praying he wasn‘t going to lecture her, not now, not on this subject.  

“No.  I must have started a dozen letters but haven’t finished a one,” she reluctantly admitted.

Halbarad looked up from the plate he was preparing.  “You’ll have to tell her sometime,” he said gently.

Contrarily, the understanding he offered irritated her more than the expected lecture would have.  Anoriath shoved a recalcitrant slice of peach across the plate with her bread.  She hated that part of being pregnant.  The most idiotic of things annoyed her and her control over her emotions was almost nonexistent.  She tried hard for a calm tone of voice … and failed miserably.

“Aye, I know that,” Anoriath blurted crossly and dropped her bread abruptly onto the plate.  “But whether or not I’ve informed our mother of the impending grandchild she never expected to have is not why we’re here,” she declared as, forgoing manners in her pique, she picked up the slice of peach between her fingers.  “You said you wanted to talk to me, so talk.”

She popped the peach slice into her mouth and chewed deliberately, thus keeping her tongue occupied and forcing her brother's hand.  Halbarad took a slow sip of tea from his mug.  He was perfectly aware that she was trying to change the subject.  But since she was right in saying that he wanted to talk to her, he decided not to force the issue.  'Besides, getting my head bitten off was not on my list of things to do today,' he reasoned wryly.

Swirling the liquid around in the half-empty mug in his hand, Halbarad asked, “Why did you say what you did?  You know, being careful what I ask for.  What were you three discussing out there?”

Anoriath, deciding to ignore the impertinence of his last question, responded, “Because, Halbarad, you and Elanna have started something that will have to be finished sooner or later." 

He shook his head and set down his mug. 

Seeing his puzzlement, she continued to explain as patiently as possible, “Aye, the love and passion between the two of you has been rekindled.  But you and I know where it will ultimately lead and what problems that may pose for her.”

Halbarad frowned in concentration as he ran his hand through his hair.  ” But what does that have to do with your comment, I’m not sure I understand what you’re trying to say.”

Anoriath growled under her breath in exasperation and, balancing her plate on her belly, pulled off a bite- sized portion of bread while she thought.  She should have just been candid with him in the first place instead of worrying about his bloody feelings.  

Raising her eyes back to his she said steadily, “Very well, I’ll be blunt.  She wants you as badly as you want her, yet she’s also scared to death.”

She groaned to herself when her brother's unyielding mask slipped into place, hiding his own fears and doubts that she was sure were beginning to take hold.  As much as she hated to cause him pain, she chose her words for their ability to force him to face what needed to be done to help his beloved.

“She fears that when the time comes, her heart will know it is you but her mind will only remember his touch," she warned flatly.

“But if she can see that it’s me, then how can she confuse the two?” he asked, stubbornly obtuse.  His fingers clamped themselves tightly around his mug, dreading the answer he already knew in his heart.

"Halbarad!" Anoriath blurted, impatient with his deliberate dimness.  "She has known no other touch but his.  There is very little you can do that he has not done first!"  

Anoriath paused when her brother clenched his eyes shut and his face grew pale, surprised that his tightening grip did not crush the clay vessel in his hands.  In his mind, he saw Elanna as she had been yesterday in the bathing room.  Halbarad struggled to draw in a shaky breath.  The thought of Parcus’ hands on the ivory porcelain of her skin made him physically ill.  His sister’s point became dreadfully clear.

Fighting the rising of his gorge, he swallowed heavily.  “I understand."  His voice grated sharply in his own ears.  “If he has been there before me, is there nothing I can do?” he asked with agonizing care.

Anoriath’s heart twisted at her brother’s impotent pain and she shoved her plate precariously onto the table, having lost her appetite.  But, he was not powerless in this, if anything; he was the only one who held the key to release Elanna from the prison of Parcus’ memories once and for all.  

“Do what you promised her at the healing, Hal.  Show her the way it is supposed to be!"  Anoriath urged him, staring grimly at his mug, her own hands clenched into fists now.

“But you just said…” Halbarad began, his pain giving way to bewilderment.

Anoriath interrupted sharply and opened one hand to grab him by the wrist, “Did you not kiss her last night?”

“Aye," Halbarad answered shortly, his mind spinning with what seemed to be his sister's random changes in direction.

“This morning she and I discussed the difference between your kiss … and his."  She released his wrist and continued less forcefully.  “How your caress is the warmth of the summer sun to the cold winter night of his touch, but she still has much to learn.”

Halbarad closed his eyes to review his sister’s words without distraction, trying to find the message he needed in them.  Hope.  That was his sister’s underlying theme.  This is what happened, this is what you face and here is how you can conquer it.  'Eru, you know how much Elanna has been through and how far she has come.  Grant me your wisdom and show me the way,' he swiftly prayed.

After she let Halbarad have a moment to ponder what she had said, Anoriath continued.  “It’s up to you to take every opportunity to show her the difference.”

His eyes flew open at her voice and his lips twitched as Halbarad thought of the means by which he could follow her advice.  All of them were pleasant indeed.  His spirits rose with every new thought.

Halbarad attempted to present a somber mien.  “You mean, kiss her as often as possible."  He tried but he just could not stop the rakish grin that spread itself across his face.

Anoriath grabbed up her napkin and threw it at him.  “That’s only one way, you dolt," she exclaimed.  “Hold her hand, hug her, whisper sweet nonsense in her ear, even tease her with your words as you did in the potting shed.  Eru knows you can charm any woman you wish with your flowery language.”

Halbarad pressed his fingers to his head as if in pain.  “It is a difficult charge you give me, but somehow I will endeavor to do my best and throw myself into this task."  He grinned at the absurdity of his jest and laughed silently at the sour look his sister shot him.

He sobered quickly when a new thought, a dark cloud loomed on the horizon.  “Yet, it could still happen, couldn’t it? That his shadow may still fall upon her, no matter what I do?”

Anoriath lifted her mug only to put it back down when she discovered that at some point in time she had finished her tea.  

“I wish I could promise you it won’t, but I can’t.”  She sighed deeply and crossed her hands across her belly.  “All I can do is give you some ideas for what to do if it happens.  The most important is to stop whatever it is you’re doing that seems to be frightening her.  If you can, get her to talk to you and if she does talk, you must listen to her.”

Anoriath read the change in his features and stifled, just barely, the impulse to remove herself from her chair by whatever means necessary and take Halbarad by the shoulders and give him a good shake.  He always managed to provoke a reaction from her when he wore his condescending I-already-know-that look.  But she would not give him the satisfaction now, there was too much at stake.  Anoriath forced her features to remain neutral and lowered both the tone and volume of her voice.

“If you ever hope to take your passion to its natural end then you will heed my words and listen to Elanna.”  She paused and trapped his gaze with blazing eyes.  “And I mean LISTEN, Hal!  If she chooses to bare her soul and speak, you will listen to every sordid detail that she can bring herself to share without so much as flinching, regardless of how distasteful you find it.”

Any smugness Halbarad had felt melted under the heat of his sister's stare.  He couldn’t help but remember what he had learned about his love's ordeal in the elven healing ceremony.  His heart had nearly broken with the lightning-flashes of humiliation and shame that had washed over him - not his, Elanna's.  Anoriath was right, it would not be easy to listen to the woman he loved speak of the atrocities inflicted on her.

Seeing that her brother was beginning to understand just what he was being asked to do, Anoriath relented.  

“I know this will probably be the most difficult thing you’ve ever done,” she acknowledged, “yet when you listen without prejudice and let her see nothing but love in your eyes, you will have given her a gift beyond measure.”

Halbarad shook his head slowly; he remembered how his own mind had teetered under the weight of her memories.  He could in no way imagine how she lived with it for as long as she had without going mad.  Oh, how it had taken every last bit of his self-control, at the time, to bar his anger behind walls of iron.  'She needs your love, not your hate,' he had reminded himself then, repeating the words to himself now.

He pushed his plate away from him, no longer thirsty or hungry.  “I don’t deny I would rather not know any more than I do now, but I will listen to whatever she needs to tell me,” he stated quietly. 

Anoriath smiled her approval and placed her hand over his to give it a quick squeeze.  “Good."  She increased her grip on his hand.  “Don’t forget that whether she talks to you or not, she may still need you to bring her back from whatever dark place she may be remembering.  Comfort her, cajole her and if those don‘t work, tease her, make her laugh.”

Halbarad looked dubious, he couldn’t help but wonder if he would be able to find the right words.  His tongue seemed to stumble the most with those he cared for.  'With my luck,' he thought wryly, 'I’d comfort when I should be teasing.' 

Sensing his doubt, she said softly, “Trust me.”

Though, at Aglaran’s funeral, Anoriath had confirmed her liaison with the King’s messenger and the force that had driven it, the stiffening of her hand underlined her words and gave him a glimpse into a very private part of his sister he had not seen before.

“The King’s messenger… Dergil?" he corrected himself, recalling her irritation at his dismissive attitude toward the man.  "You needed his help?” Halbarad asked awkwardly, sandwiching her hand between his.

It embarrassed him no end to ask his sister about these intimate matters.  He had more of their mother’s sense of propriety than she had inherited.  Matters of such a nature were just not discussed between a man and a woman who were unwed.  But he loved Elanna beyond all reason and would gladly walk through the fires of Mount Doom if it would help her.  Embarrassment seemed a small enough price to pay to acquire any knowledge that might set her free from the shadows once and for all.

Anoriath gently pulled her hand from his.  “Aye, I did."  

Halbarad unsuspectingly repeated Elanna’s question.  “You thought Dergil was him?”

“No, it was not necessary to be that specific."  Anoriath paused and searched her brother’s eyes as she tried to decide what she needed to tell and what she could leave unsaid.  “When you’ve lost more than just your dignity, when you've been held powerless to stop whatever is to come, you can only promise yourself that you will never allow yourself to be in that position in any way, shape or form, ever again.”

Halbarad remembered Elanna as they found her, wild-eyed and gaunt, weakened and defenseless.  It was too easy to picture his sister in the same manner.  Remorse that he had not protected her either in Nurn or when she had first come to The Burping Troll welled up in his heart yet again.  He fought the emotion down; he'd made his apologies and obtained her forgiveness, it did neither him nor Anoriath any good to dwell on the emotion.

“And yet you still…” he faltered momentarily and then, clearing his throat, reworded his thought.  “So you panicked?" 

She nodded without looking at him.  

“You say to tease Elanna, is that what Dergil did?  Teased you out of your fear?” Halbarad asked, suddenly grateful for the King's messenger, no matter how arrogantly self-assured the man had seemed.

“Aye," Anoriath replied tersely.

Halbarad was unable to stop the hot color from creeping up his neck though his mind was focused on what she had said.  "Did it work?" he asked softly.

"Aye, it did," she acknowledged and finally lifted her eyes to look at her brother.

“Then there is hope, for Elanna and I?” he continued earnestly, grasping her hands for the needed physical reassurance as well as that of her words.

“Aye, there is hope," she responded.

“Thank you for that."  Halbarad smiled gratefully at her belief in him and they sat for a minute thus.

“Uh, Hal?” Anoriath said uneasily, sliding her eyes away from his.

Halbarad’s hands loosened their grip on Anoriath as his brows lifted to a peak above his eyes.  Considering the matters they had just discussed he was unable to guess what his sister wanted to say that would cause the sudden change in her demeanor.

“There is something else I should tell you," she said and then stopped. 

“And that is…” Halbarad led her.

“I told Elanna that if there came a time when she found herself in your arms as she did last night,” she said, straight-faced, “and if the opportunity was such that it seemed that she could easily be carried away by her passion, and yours, that she should let it happen.”

“Anoriath!” Halbarad exclaimed and jerked his hands away from hers.

She knew she shouldn’t be enjoying her brother’s indignation, but he was so like their mother about these things.  That she was advocating a perfectly legitimate solution to the problem at hand probably galled him as much as the solution itself. 

She continued, trying to keep her tone as neutral as possible, “I told her that only when she feels the pleasure that will come at your hands would she truly understand the difference.  His shade will be banished for good when she finds herself crying out your name as you consummate what he did not.”

“ANORIATH!”  He was thoroughly appalled.

Poor Halbarad, she knew that this went against everything he had been taught.  Anoriath chuckled and eased back in her chair.  

“Halbarad, you know I’m right!" she contended.  “In this instance, the timing is important enough that if the moment is ripe, then it shouldn’t matter if it is your wedding night or next Wednesday.”

To consummate the marriage before the wedding?  Maybe with another woman, but not his Elanna!  She deserved nothing less than the best, which to Halbarad meant a wedding with all the trimmings that any young maid might desire, as well as a formal wedding night to look forward to and dream of.  

When doubt still clouded his features, Anoriath scolded sternly, “Hal, the object here is to help Elanna finish breaking free of the chains of the past that still bind her.  Don't you think that is the higher priority?"

“You’re right, again," Halbarad admitted reluctantly, lifting his hand in defeat and dropping it to his lap.  “And I will go so far as to own that following your advice would not be difficult."  He shook his head sharply in disbelief.  "Elanna can set my blood afire with but a single look."  

After the initial affront to his sensibilities had faded and he had a chance to perceive the wisdom of his sister's suggestion, Halbarad voiced his thought out loud.  “It would just be so strange."  He saw Anoriath’s smirk and shot back, “Not that, woman, I meant about Elanna and not yet being wed.”

“She is no longer the sheltered young maid of your fantasy marriage,” Anoriath said.  “You know as well as I do that there are some places where she would be considered undesirable, impure.  People would look at her sideways and whisper behind her back."  Her voice took on a sharp, hissing edge.  "‘They say she was a captive, but the condition they found her in!  Of course I don’t believe it when they say she was rescued in time, I mean, would you ever admit anything else?’”

Halbarad ground his teeth in anger.  He knew nothing like that would be said here at the Troll, but he was forced to admit that it would not be that way in many other places.  Cruel and unfair as it was, it was still the way things were.  In fact, this was the kind of woman Bob usually chose.  A fallen woman who would not be considered a ‘proper lady’ but one who was not ready to lower herself to the role of harlot.  Halbarad considered it a credit to Bob that he treated each and every one as a woman worthy of respect.  He would give them almost anything, including the shirt off his back.  Yet there was one thing no woman, of any kind, had been able to lay claim to, his heart.

Halbarad smiled grimly, men like Bob were few and far between for these women.  For a vast majority marriage was an unattainable dream and for those who chose lovers, too often they had to settle for a man who considered it an act of charity to lay with one of them.  Halbarad’s blood ran cold at the thought of something happening to him before he and Elanna were able to wed.  For her to be left to face public condemnation for something that was not her fault was unthinkable.  

His reflections loosened their grip on him and it took him a moment to realize his gaze was focused on the rounded belly near him.  He raised his eyes to Anoriath‘s, his pain reflecting beyond words.

“Ani?” he said hoarsely, holding his hand out to hers.

Though touched by the empathy and concern that were clearly etched on his features, she held up her hand in quick warning, shaking her head at him.  “I know what you’re thinking, but please, don’t pity me Hal.  I can’t bear it from others and from you most of all.”

“It’s not pity, Ani,” Halbarad remonstrated gently and took his sister's hand in his.  She was surprised to find it trembling.

“If there is anyone in this world who could force people to reexamine their narrow views, it would be you," he stated emphatically and swung his legs out from under the table in order to stand.  He leaned over his sister and wrapped her in his arms, flooded with his affection for her.  “Remember what I said in Nurn, do not hesitate to come to me if you are in need of anything, anything at all.”

Anoriath squeezed his arm gratefully.  “I haven’t forgotten.”

Halbarad smoothed her curls.  Now that he had a good idea why she had cut it initially, he wondered why she continued to keep it clipped so short.  His heart ached at the thought.  “Have I told you how much I love you and how proud I am of you?” he said in a low voice and kissed the crown of her head.

“Ah, Halbarad,” Anoriath whispered hoarsely, so taken by surprise by his affection that tears swam in her eyes and thickened her voice.

He dropped to kneeling beside her, took his sister's face into his hands and lovingly held her eyes.  “I am so proud of you, Anoriath."  He pressed his lips to her brow and said tenderly, “I only wish our father could know of what you have done with your life.”

She dropped her head to her palm.  Her brother knew how much she had striven to please their father and regretted his confusion at her choices.  In recalling him, Halbarad had completely blindsided her and she could do nothing about the tears that streamed down her cheeks.  

Hal clucked his tongue in sympathy and did as he always had done and held her close, smoothing her hair as she wept.  Clutching her brother to her, Anoriath buried her face in his shoulder.  He couldn't help but recall the night after they had buried their father.  Despite their age, she had sought the comfort of his arms as she wept the tears her mother had deemed inappropriate to shed in public.  That was the night he had told her, ‘I will always be here for you, heart of my heart.’  Many times their separate assignments had put miles between them, but he'd never forgotten that promise.

After a moment, he asked, "Have you decided whether or not to accept the Prince's offer to attend his family in Emyn Arnen?"

She shook her head.  "Not yet."  

The ties of love and duty pulled her in opposite directions, confusing her choice of the path before her.  Stay within the circle of the small family that she loved, support Elanna's return to herself, live in the first place that truly felt like home, but have no real role as a Ranger that she could perform and meet her obligations to her child.  Go and leave the Troll and her family behind, but provide the security that her child would need under the mantle of protection offered by her Prince.  She felt impossibly torn in two.

At her silence, Hal kissed her hair affectionately, "Don't worry so, Ani.  Never forget, I will always be here for you, heart of my heart."

Chapter Eleven

Third Day of Yule
Just before midnight

Near the turning of the night, Anoriath eased herself down the back stairs, gingerly skipping the third to last step.  She reminded herself, again, that she really should let Celebsul know about that step.  She had learned over assorted midnight trips to the privy that the wood had dried to such a curve that the wrong foot in just the wrong place and the wood suddenly sinks and sends out a loud report sure to wake up every resident in The Burping Troll.  Her toes padded softly on the wood, bare feet cool on bare floors, for tonight she wasn't headed for the privy, but had come in search of something else.  

Between intensely intimate talks with her brother and his beloved to the unexpected return of their friend, Anardil, emotions had run high this day and she'd found herself nodding off in her chair as her family and friends gathered about the hearth.  Elros had firmly ordered her to bed, fending off her complaints with warnings that they would have no sympathy the next morning if her stiff and aching back kept her from rising from her bed.  She'd complied and took his proffered hand and let him pull her from the deeply cushioned seat, though still reluctant to remove herself from their company.  Their circle was complete with the return of their prodigal brethren and his obvious devotion for Sevilodorf only added to her affection for him.   

Now, at this hour, the common room was empty of folk, the abandoned furniture glowing in the light of the hearth.  Thin drafts from the windows and door swept along the floor, raising the hairs along Anoriath's arms and legs.  She wrapped her blanket around her tighter and rubbed her hands along her arms briskly to get rid of the chill as she headed for the chairs and couches circling the hearth.  The fire was banked for the night yet the coals nestled in beds of feathery ash gave off a dim shifting light.  Light and shadow passed outside the shuttered window.  Elros must not have finished his rounds, she observed idly.  

In the flickering light of the hearth, Anoriath examined the stuffed chair she had been sitting earlier this evening.  She yanked off cushions and stuck her hands into the crevices between seat and arms, cursing under her breath.  She'd awoken from a brief sleep with the sudden clear thought that she could not recall where she had put Anardil's gift.  However could she have lost it?  What was she going to tell Anardil if he asked for kaffe in the morning?

A soft scrape from the kitchen caught Anoriath's attention.  She glanced over and caught a light sweeping beneath the kitchen door and intensified her search, unwilling to be discovered in the common room at a time when all others were abed.  The light beneath the kitchen door suddenly winked out and the door eased open.  Anoriath cursed softly.  She'd hoped not to involve anyone else.  If she were to lose a gift given only hours before, she'd hoped to keep her lapse a secret.  

Elros stepped through the door, letting it swing lightly closed behind him.  He set the now extinguished lamp atop the bar and tossed his gloves and hood after it.  The trees were laden with snow, the boughs bending to the white earth under their downy burden, creating odd glacial caves and bowers.  He had almost felt as if he must beg forgiveness for the clumsiness of his footsteps as they cut paths through the perfection of that frozen world.  The night had been so quiet that he had stood under the eaves of the wood, closed his eyes and listened to the falling snowflakes whispering through the trees for a long moment.  Quiet was an unusual thing for the Troll and the beauty of the glittering crystalline carpet had enchanted him into lingering outside until his feet and hands were numb.  

Elros shook his head of the last remaining snowflakes and smoothed back his hair with an abrupt gesture before swinging off his cloak, shaking the heavy wool with a snap and dropping it to drape over a nearby chair.  His head was still heavy with the awed stillness of the night when he yawned and stretched vigorously before dropping back to his heels.  The doors were locked and his bed called him.  He rubbed his chilled hands.  But then again, maybe he'd warm himself at the hearth first.  His bed was as likely to be just as cold as he.

Elros was halfway across the floor before he noticed Anoriath sitting on the edge of couch, her chin in her fists, staring at the chair narrowly, racking her brain, resigned to being found.  His brow tilted in mild surprise and she glanced up at him.

"Tired, Elros?"

"Mmmm, more cold than tired, I think," he mused as he crossed the room.  "What about you?  I would have thought you long gone to bed," he stated, pinning her with a playfully pointed glare.

She snorted lightly, but before she spoke, Elros stopped abruptly, snapped his finger and pointed it at her, "Ah!  I know why you're here!"  He turned about sharply and returned to the bar.  Leaning over and reaching out, he scooped up a small bundle in his hand.  He smiled on his return to the hearth, holding out his hand and dangling the embossed leather bag of fragrant kaffe beans from his fingers, the beaded fringe jangling softly.

"Thought you might miss this," he said as he crossed the floor.

Anoriath smiled wryly and lifted her hand to receive the bag, "Ah.  Thank you, Elros."

Elros replied with a smile, "I found it on the floor just before the stairs, you must have…"

But his smile fled and his voice suddenly fell silent as their hands touched in the transfer of the small gift.  Her fingers slid gently along his palm and it was as if an electric shock had traveled between them, exploding in the pit of his stomach.  He'd been so careful to keep his distance after their return from Nurn and avoid putting his promise of not pressing his suit upon her to the test.  Some days were easier than others, but this was not one of them.  Anardil's return and the obvious affection between their old friend and Sevilodorf had been a joy to see, but Elros couldn't help but feel the odd twinge of frustrated longing watching them.  

Anoriath dropped her eyes and seemed absorbed in straightening the fringe of tangled silver and lapis beads.  But a flush crept up from the collar of her nightshirt to her jaw.  Elros watched her; a little pleased by the usually self-possessed Ranger's discomfiture.  So, she had felt it as well.  

Elros cleared his throat and crossed in front of her to pull a log from the full wood cradle, valiantly suppressing his grin.  Squatting before the grate, he lay it atop the brittle pile of charred logs and orange gleaming coals.  The scorched wood cracked, settling the log among them sharply and sending a shimmering and crackling shower of sparks up into the chimney.  He raised his hands over the embers' warmth for a moment.  Anoriath had lifted her eyes and was watching the play of amber light on his face.  

She'd made no move to go, despite the unease of the moment, trapped in reflection as she attempted to make sense of what had just occurred between them and why she couldn't drag her eyes from his warmly-lit features.  He'd been his usual attentive self lately.  He'd worn down her resistance slowly over time, simply ignoring her objections that she could take care of herself as he fetched, carried, tucked and guarded her through the day.  It was he who had sent her to bed for a nap this afternoon after he found her nodding over her whetstone and sword.  Eventually, she gave up her complaints about being mothered to death in weary resignation, and then, lately, had grown to enjoy it.  Though, a show of protest now and again was still warranted, she deemed.  Her lips twitched a little, glad that Elros had decided to keep that trim beard that framed his lips.  

Aware of her gaze, Elros turned on the balls of his feet to meet her slight mischievous smile.  He returned it with eyes that twinkled in the rising dance of the fire at his side, the lines about his eyes crinkling in shared amusement.  Yes, they really were far too old for such foolishness of unspoken words and awkwardness.  He glanced back at the fire that was taking hold.  Perhaps now was as good a time as any.  

"I got something for you," Elros stated as he rose.  His dancing eyes dared her to challenge him.

Anoriath lips twisted in wry amusement.  He was certainly pushing the limits of their agreement.  Yet, she couldn't decide between holding him to his word or satisfying her curiosity.

She shook her head at him over her rueful grin, "No fair, Elros.  You know I'm not able to refuse."

He grinned back at her, "I know.  In fact, I was counting on it."  

When she threw up a hand in amused acquiescence, Elros strode quickly across the room to disappear behind the bar.  Anoriath twisted about on the couch, drawing her toes up under the blanket and frowning at the scraping and muffled banging sounds coming from across the room.  

"Whatever is it?" she called in a loud whisper.

Elros' head popped up over the top of the bar.  "Shhhh!" he hissed.  "And no peeking, turn around!"  

He disappeared again as Anoriath sighed and turned back to face the fire.  Every hair on the back of her neck prickled as the sound of his footsteps approached from behind her.  She quickly reached back to rub against the tickling hairs but then froze at the sight of Elros standing before her with a tightly wrapped bulky object in his hands.

"Oh, Elros," she breathed, "You didn't!" first staring at the object and then his face.

"It seems that I have," Elros returned, holding it out to her before settling onto the opposite end of the small couch.  

Anoriath turned the item over in her hands, feeling its weight and the rough rub of the oilcloth in which it was bound while Elros watched on solemnly.  Laying it across her knees, Anoriath untied the bindings, slipped the contents out from the stiff cloth and dropped the casing to the floor.  The firelight reflected sharply off the varnished honey-blonde wood of the lute's soundboard and glowed in the mahogany of the fingerboard.  She ran her hands over the neck of the instrument and the strings whispered back to her in questioning hums.  

Finding the low note as best she could, she tuned the remaining strings to its guide, finally strumming a chord or two to learn the instrument's voice.  No matter how similar, each instrument spoke with a different tongue, its song resonating in a different chest and vibrating in wooden bones and air filled hollows that are only its own.  Anoriath struck an arpeggio modulating it to a minor chord and frowned in awed appreciation.  This particular lute had a warm voice, with deep notes of summer honey and broad chested bees and high notes of rippling drops falling in hidden silver pools.  She stopped the sound suddenly, muting the vibrations with her hand across the strings.  

She tilted her head and looked at Elros, her brows puckering.  

"What is it?" Elros asked, sitting straight, puzzled and anxious.  "Is it acceptable?  I don't know anything about musical instruments.  The trader said it was well-made, but if it's not a good quality, I can always take it back and trade for another if you like?"

Anoriath interrupted him with a quick shake of her head and shrug, forestalling anything else he would have said with eyes that filled with warm tears.  "It just absolutely lovely, Elros.  Thank you."

He sighed with relief, relaxing back to the seat, and then grinned at her reaction.  He'd touched her heart.  He couldn't have hoped for a better effect.  

"But, Elros," she continued, awkwardly, gripping the neck of the instrument.  "I can't accept this.  You've already given me something for the season and this far outweighs what I gave you.  This must have cost you dear!"  

"No!"  Elros warned and lifted his hand abruptly.  "Don't start that with me."

She shook her head and drew a breath as if to speak.

"No!" he insisted, "Listen to me!"  He continued softly, "I am free to spend my money where I will.  Unlike you and Hal, I have no other obligations.  It is my choice to do this.  You played beautifully for your brother this summer, but then I've heard his voice raised in ale-inspired song often enough."

Anoriath snickered, "Has he ever completely made it through the Lay of Luthien, do you think?" 

"It's your voice that I would like to hear now," Elros stated pointedly.

She grimaced, suddenly uncomfortable.  It had been years since she'd sung before anyone and she felt shy of lifting her voice.  

Elros smiled at her.  "Consider it as a gift in exchange for the lute, if you must."

Nervously, Anoriath temporized, idly plucking the strings.  “What do you want to hear?”

He grinned.  “One of your more mournful tunes perhaps?” he suggested, recalling Halbarad's complaints of Anoriath's repertoire.  

She tsked at him.  "Keep that up and I'll play you a tune all right.  I'll shove your head in the rose and beat on the wooden belly like one of Nik's drums."

Elros chuckled but Anoriath fell silent and continued to fiddle with the pegs.  He leaned over and gave her hand a quick squeeze.  “Would you sing for me?”

He grinned, a winning flash of white teeth, teasing her for her shyness.  

She responded with a disgusted exhale.  "Very well, very well.  Give me a minute.”

He settled back in the corner of the couch and let her take her time gathering both her thoughts and courage.

Elros' teasing had put her in mind of the family life they had shared in Mateon's house.  When she began, he smiled, recognizing the tune as one Elanna's mother sang for the girl when she was very young.  Turning his head, he pressed one ear against the couch, waiting for the low notes to resonate in her chest and vibrate against his cheek.  Her voice echoed softly off the walls about them and harmonized with the crack and hiss of the fire before them.  The tawny light shifted and caressed her features and the warm wood in her hands as she played, at first picking out the slow melody on the strings and humming a counterpoint before gently easing into song.  

Slumber my darling, thy mother is near
Guarding thy dreams from all terror and fear
Sunlight has past and the twilight has gone
Slumber my darling, the night’s coming on.

Sweet visions attend thy sleep
Fondest, dearest to me
While others their revels keep,
I will watch over thee.

Slumber my darling the birds are at rest,
Wandering dews by the flowers are caressed,
Slumber my darling I’ll wrap thee up warm,
And pray that the Ainur will shield thee from harm.

Slumber my darling till morn’s blushing ray
Brings to the world the glad tidings of day
Fill the dark void with thy dreamy delight
Slumber, thy mother will guard thee tonight

Thy pillow shall sacred be
From all outward alarms;
Thou, thou art the world to me
In thine innocent charms.

Slumber my darling the birds are at rest,
Wandering dews by the flowers are caressed,
Slumber my darling I’ll wrap thee up warm,
And pray that the Ainur will shield thee from harm.

She ended the song, humming the last lines over again and plucking a simple harmony from the arpeggios that swept across the strings.  

When the last notes faded, Anoriath rested her hand along the back of the couch and leaned her head against her arm, clasping the warm curved wood to her with her free hand.  They sat a while longer in silence, gazing at each other and listening to the crackle of the wood in the fire and the occasional snap and whine of boiling sap.  As the night waned, the light of the flames lapped like waves against the couch and their still forms like a gentle tide that pulled them into a quiet place of contentment and peace.  

The soft silence was broken by the whisper of fabric when Elros stretched out his arm and, for a long moment, slowly ran his fingers over Anoriath's as they lay on the arch of the couch between them, caressing them tenderly as if they were the only thing that existed in a world that was immortal, where time meant nothing.  

He couldn't remember when she had looked so dear to him.  He whispered to her, his eyes intent on her face.  "When last we spoke of this, Anoriath, you said your heart wasn't yours to give yet.  That you still mourned what you had lost.  Where do you stand now?  Is your heart free?"

She gazed at him silently for a long moment.  "No," she whispered, her voice made tight and hoarse by the tears that had filled her eyes while he touched her.

Elros' heart pounded in the hollow that was his chest and filled his ears with a rushing, whirring sound.  Ah.  He was a fool.  He should have known.  

Anoriath withdrew her hand from under his along the back of the couch and carefully placed the lute on the floor away from her.  His limbs felt like cold leaden weights holding him fast to the couch, unable to move or think.  As Anoriath turned back to face him and eased herself along the plush seat, he looked at her in confusion, his brain stubbornly sluggish.  

She lifted her eyes to his and the shock made him blink and swallow.

"Elros, I cannot give you my heart," she whispered softly and ran warm fingertips along his temple to his jaw, her touch playing a warm bittersweet music across his skin that stole his breath.  Her own breath caught and a tear trailed down her cheek as she continued, "For I cannot give you something that you have already stolen away from me."  

His breath escaped him in a sudden surprised rush when he caught her meaning.  He bent over her, following her lips as she leaned her head back against the circle of his arm, and pressed in to capture their sweetness as his own.  

Poised between night and morn, the old and the new, with one kiss, two hearts opened to each other.  Not to leave what had been behind, but to add to it, to give it new meaning as new memories shed light on old, ever deepening the well of understanding.  

Chapter Twelve

Third Day of Yule
Just before midnight

Elanna lay sleepless in her bed.  She had been tired when she had first climbed the stairs.  It had been an eventful day, starting with her conversation in the potting shed with Anoriath and Sevilodorf, the spirited trade for her pots with Sewulf, the afternoon spent at Woodhaven and culminating in the joy of Anardil’s arrival.  So much emotion had finally taken its toll on her that it had not been too difficult to take her leave from the common room.  She had just started to edge towards sleep when a soft knock at her door and a familiar voice asked if she was still awake.

She never should have let Halbarad enter her room to kiss her goodnight.  Though it had been a chaste kiss compared to the one he had given her earlier in the day, it had still been enough to drive away her desire for sleep.  Now she lay wide-eyed, listening to the sounds that drifted up the stairs and through the floor.  With Celebsul, his apprentices and Anoriath already in their rooms, there weren’t too many people left to belong to the heavy tread coming up the stairs.  Elanna hoped it would be Sevilodorf.  Then at least she would have someone to talk to until she found drowsiness again.  But the solid thumping of boots climbed the far staircase.  That meant they could only belong to Bob.  A door closing at the other end of the hall confirmed her guess.

Still it was not long before she heard Sevilodorf’s familiar footsteps on the stairs closest to their room, but the sounds indicated she was not alone.  Elanna smiled and wondered if the woman would get a good night kiss like hers.  Her smiled widened into a grin when it occurred to her to wonder if either Sev or Anardil would be willing to settle for a mere kiss after the long absence from each other’s company.  Listening closely she thought she heard Sevilodorf speaking quietly, but could not hear Anardil, if it was Anardil.  She could be wrong and it could be Elros.  But when the footsteps entered the same room and the door shut quietly behind them, Elanna knew she had been right the first time.

Sighing, Elanna rolled over on to her stomach and buried her face in her pillow.  As happy as she was for them, the thought of them together only increased her own restlessness.  Her narrow bed suddenly seemed as large as the room, leaving her to feel small and alone.  She groaned aloud.  What was wrong with her?  She was distracted from her frustration by the sound of a new set of feet.  Her ears pricked and she lifted her head from the pillow.  If she heard right, these were bare.  Her curiosity was heightened when she realized the steps came from the direction of Anoriath’s room and were headed down the stairs.  She dropped her head and let her mind roam over the various reasons why the older Ranger would be up again, though the obvious one was her usual late night trip to the privy.

Elanna managed to pass a good bit of time fantasizing about Anoriath’s doings and whereabouts but in the end, sleep still eluded her.  With a discontented sigh, she rolled to her back and sat up, pulling her knees up to her chin.  Maybe if she went downstairs she could find something to eat or drink that might help.  Even if it didn’t, it was better than staying to toss and turn in her bed.  Elanna swung her legs out from under the covers and set her feet on the floor.  Her toes curled at the chill.  Standing quickly she whipped the top blanket off the bed and wrapped it around her.

She had just opened the door when she heard voices drifting up the stairs, two people speaking softly together.  Elanna quickly shut the door until there was only a small gap through which to see.  Even in the dim light, Anoriath’s pregnant form was easy to recognize and the tall man beside her, holding her close to him could only be Elros.  Elanna held her breath, fearing that they would hear her.  Now if only she could stop her heart from beating so loudly.  The same heart was at once pleased and saddened when they stopped a moment near her door for Anoriath to pull her blanket up from the floor where she had nearly tripped on it.  When Elros patiently waited for her, Anoriath lifted her hand to gently tuck a wayward hair behind the Ranger's ear.  Elanna watched Elros' light and tender kiss in response before they walked down the short hall to Anoriath’s room.  She was pleased that the two Rangers had found love with each other and saddened by the overwhelming aloneness that settled over her after watching them.

Subdued by the feeling, Elanna stepped quietly into the long hall to make her way to the stairs closest to the kitchen.  She was halfway down the hall when she heard sounds.  She froze; unsure of whom it was but then relaxed when she recognized the voices.  Though she couldn’t hear what was being said, still she recognized the tone.  It reminded her sharply of her mother and father talking to each other when they thought they were alone.  With extra care, Elanna forced her limbs to move and she walked to the stairs, where she paused yet again.  A cyclone of emotions whirled around inside her.  She didn’t know what to feel or think.  The walls of the inn faded as images and sounds danced around her.  

When the winds subsided, Elanna found herself staring at Halbarad’s door.  It was as if her hand was no longer under her control.  She watched it push the door open and her feet took her over the threshold without her permission.  Though the moon was far from full, the snow through the two windows of Halbarad’s room reflected what light was cast.  Captivated by the play of silver light and ebony shadows on her beloved’s face, the sight drew her to him.  She took another step forwards onto a board that announced her presence with a loud creak.

The sleeping man was instantly awake with a knife in his hands and steel in his voice.  

“Don’t move!"  Halbarad ordered in voice that was both quiet and deadly.

Elanna froze, she knew the slightest movement would cause him to send the knife flying in her direction and she knew his aim to be dangerously accurate.

“I-It’s me, Elanna,” she said, her voice quavering.  “I’m cold.”

The creak of the floor had brought him out of a deep sleep.  He knew instantly that the weight on the wood was too light to be Elros, and so he had responded as if to a threat while he shook off the last bit of sleep.  At Elanna’s nervous words, he lowered the knife and replaced it, trying to figure out why she was here and Elros wasn’t.  He needed the few steps it took for her to come to his bed for his mind to comprehend her words.  Cold.  She said she was cold and he saw her shivering under the thin blanket.  It looked like the one from her bed.

Elanna stood by his bed and looked down at him uncertainly.  “Hal?”

The uneasiness when she spoke his name spurred him to action.  

“Come here,” he said and lifted the covers to let her in.

Elanna dropped the blanket she had brought with her to the floor and climbed, shivering, into his bed.  She rested her head on his chest and slowly, in the warmth of his embrace, the tremors subsided.  The circle of his arms made her feel more than safe, it felt right to be there, it was where she belonged.  The steady beat of his heart in her ear told her this was so.  She sighed contentedly and snuggled closer.

Halbarad knew by the softly exhaled sigh that she was warm and relaxed now.  He kissed the top of her head and asked, “What’s wrong.”

It was a long, quiet moment before she replied.  “I didn’t want to be alone.”

“Elanna, my love, it isn’t seemly.  What do you think Bob is going to say when he finds out?” Halbarad asked with gentle amusement.

He smiled to himself.  He could feel the stubborn set to her chin against his chest.  Curious to see the expression that went with it, he shifted her at his side and raised her head until it rested on the upper part of his arm.  Ah, now he could see her face.  There was that determined expression he knew so well.

“I only want to be close to you,” Elanna retorted emphatically.  “I want to fall asleep in your arms and wake up by your side.  And I don’t care if it's seemly, appropriate or anything else.”

“And Bob?” Halbarad reminded her.

Elanna thrust her chin out further and a decidedly mutinous light appeared in her eyes.  “I don’t care what Bob would say,” she insisted though she immediately softened her stance.  “Besides, he won’t find out if I wake early and go back to my room."  

“That is true, though I care about what Bob would say,” Halbarad admitted.  “That aside, how will I explain this to Elros when he notices that I’ve grown two heads.”

Elanna giggled softly.  “Elros won’t notice anything, I promise.”

“And why is that?” Halbarad asked as he smoothed a small lock of hair that had escaped her braid from her face.

“Because he is sleeping elsewhere tonight,” she informed him smugly.  “Just as we both know Sev will never notice my absence for the same reason.”

Halbarad’s hand hesitated before returning to its task of stroking her hair while his thoughts raced.  Sevilodorf and Anardil were of no surprise to him, but Elros?  Did this mean that his friend had taken his advice?  Have he and Anoriath finally opened their hearts and found that they were as one?

“And just how do you know Elros will not return?” Halbarad questioned closely.

Elanna wondered if she should mention the kiss she had seen and decided not to.  “I saw him and Anoriath go to her room."  Elanna smiled as she spoke.  “He held her so close and tender like.  Oh Hal, it was so sweet to see.”

A slow satisfied smile spread across his face.  Like Elanna, Halbarad rejoiced to know that Elros and Anoriath had found each other at last.  As her brother, he couldn’t help but feel the man was so much better for her than that flamboyant King's messenger.  Though he would admit, grudgingly, that Dergil had helped his sister in a way no one else could have.  Still, he knew Elros as well as he knew his sister.  Anoriath would never have cause to question his love or his loyalty and for Elros, this was one bird who would help build the nest rather than fly from it.

When he reached the end of the trail of his thoughts, Halbarad noticed the melancholy that replaced the happiness on Elanna’s face.  

He lightly stroked her cheek.  “Elanna, what is it?”

She was unsure how to answer.  How to explain the tangled mix of emotions in her heart?  But if she could not sort them out with Halbarad, then who with? If she wanted to spend the rest of her life at this man’s side, then she couldn’t be running to his sister every time she didn’t understand her own heart.  When Anoriath had told her to trust Halbarad, they had been speaking of something else but she had understood that the trust had to extend into all areas.

Elanna took a quick deep breath before she began.  “After you left, I couldn’t sleep.  I felt alone and bereft, of what I couldn’t say."  She paused.  Nestled in his arms she had a better idea of what had been missing.  “I had intended to go downstairs to get something to drink when I heard a voice and footsteps on the stairs.  That’s when I saw Elros and Anoriath."  

She paused again, a soft smile on her lips, remembering the kiss she had witnessed.  It was then that the aloneness became overwhelming and stirred up other vague, unnamed feelings in her breast.  Was that when the idea of going to Halbarad started to form without her awareness or consent?  She wasn’t sure.

“I was halfway down the hall when I heard voices."  

Even in the moonlight, Halbarad could see her thoughtful smile.  

“It reminded me of my mother and father.  You could see the love they had for each other.”  Elanna‘s smile faded.  “They often went to their room or someplace where they could be alone.”  A soft sigh followed.  It made me feel … I don’t know,” Elanna struggled.  How was she to find the words to explain when she didn’t understand how she felt?  “I kept going but stopped at the stairs.  The next thing I knew, I was outside your door.”

Halbarad saw in her eyes what she had been unable to put into words, the longing to be able to express her love as freely as the others did, which went hand in hand with the envy of the same.  He understood her feelings completely.  He had held himself to a simple gentle kiss good night when what he wanted to do was to take her in his arms and whisk her off to his room.  In spite of Anoriath’s urgings, he had only wished to have Elanna by his side, close to his heart.  It seemed that Eru had heard and answered both of their prayers.

“Hal?”  Elanna interrupted his thoughts.  

“Please let me stay?” she asked shyly.  

When he had remained silent, she began to fear that he would insist that she sleep in her room.  She knew that it was the proper thing to do and she couldn’t fault him for caring about what was best for her, but she didn’t want to go.  Elanna waited anxiously for Halbarad to answer her plea, anxiety that was gone in an instant when her answer came in the form of his lips pressed against hers.

When she returned his kiss, Halbarad heard the echo of Elros’ words in his mind.  ‘Take my advice, my friend, wed your lady as soon as possible’.  He tightened his embrace on Elanna even as he debated the wisdom of letting her stay.  How would he sleep tomorrow night without her after having her by his side tonight?  His bed would merely seem emptier than ever.  ‘Elros, my friend, you spoke more truly than you could ever possibly know,’ he thought.

“Sleep now, my love.  I will wake you at first light,” Halbarad told her and then kissed her brow.  “May your dreams be sweet ones.” 

Elanna smiled sleepily.  “They will be with you here,” she said softly.  “I love you, Halbarad.”

Those words again, he would never tire of hearing them from her lips.  It reminded him strongly of her family ritual.  Dare he take the place that had always belonged to Mateon and Bob?

Thickly he said, “I love you more.”

Lids heavy with sleep lifted and the quiet joy in her sapphire blue eyes captivated him.  Elanna slid her hand up his chest and brought it to rest, her palm on his cheek.  The next night would find her back in her own bed but with the promise that it would not be that way for long.  Any lingering doubts of his place in her heart were banished when she spoke.

“I always come back to the one I love,” she whispered in his ear.

Side by side, in the haven of each other’s arms, they slept.

Chapter Thirteen

Sixth Day of Yule
Afternoon

It had been a busy day for all.  The hobbits had coerced everyone in sight into helping in some way or another.  They were determined that this, the last night of the Yule season, would surpass the delights of the previous five.  To the halflings, the other residents of the inn were more than just friends; they were family.  As such, Erin, Meri, Camellia and Milo wanted to show them how much they were loved in the best hobbity fashion possible, and that meant food, in such bountiful amounts that it overflowed the kitchen and pantry until the lack of counter space forced Meri to grudgingly acquiesce to co-opting their bedrooms for extra storage.  The poor hobbit-lass stood over her stove, shaking her head at the distressing thought of warm buns nestled in a basket atop Erin's bed.  Food in rooms for sleeping!  Crumbs on her blankets and steam gathering on the windowpanes!  And yet there was no other choice, for the kitchen burst with warm yeasty odors and still there was more to come.  

So after lunch, everyone who had not managed to flee was given a task.  Nellas, Pippin, Aerio and Gambesul were assigned to peeling, cutting and chopping the vegetables and fruits.  'Enough to fill the hold of several elvish ships,' according to Aerio.  But when threatened with the punishment of gruel and water for dinner, the young elf deigned to finish the task with any other complaints locked behind his lips.  Meri turned to fix a baleful eye on Gambesul, Nellas and Pippin who were taking delight in Aerio’s comeuppance and mentioned only two words “chickens” and “spirit."  Instantly, the three elves were all meekness itself.  

Meri grinned as she made yet another trip down to the cellar, chuckling over the recalled sight of four awkward elves blackened with soot and molting chicken feathers onto the hearth.  Celebsul and Esgallyg's inspired retaliation for the foursome's brazen snowball attack on them had come in handy.  She wasn’t sure how long she would be able to hold the “spirit of Yule” incident over the mischievous elves’ heads, but until their embarrassment faded, she would do just that.  

Humming an old Shire tune, Meri scooped more flour from the bin and, letting its lid drop with a muffled wooden bang, headed back up the stairs.  Carcharien had been set at cheerfully sweeping and dusting out the upper rooms.  His brother, Anbarad, was not so cheerful.  Nonetheless, under the pain of restrictions from toffee nuts for a full year, the elf had tied back his hair and was resolutely scrubbing out the long beaten copper tubs in the bathing room, muttering imprecations under his breath in an obscure Silvan dialect not even Celebsul could make out.  Meri muttered under her breath, climbing the last of the stairs.  She'd have to keep an eye out for those two.  Put them together and their tomfoolery could easily match that of the youngsters of their race. 

Meri closed the cellar door with her elbow.  Erin and Camellia's voices drifted from the pantry where they were taking a last minute inventory.  A stern glance from the hobbit-lass as she passed and the four young elves quickly bent their heads over the growing pile of vegetables, silently dropping peels into the compost bucket occasionally.  

Dimereg and Firnelin would return soon with the fresh evergreen boughs for the common room, she reflected.  She had hoped to have the Rangers help replace the dried-out boughs with fresh, but they seemed to have disappeared; well, most of them anyway.  Anoriath had headed for Woodhaven with Esgallyg and Celebsul right after lunch.  Thick as thieves and plotting something is what they were doing, in her opinion.  She plopped her burden into a large stoneware bowl on the counter, holding her breath against the poof of flour until it settled.  

Beregrid and Halbarad were just as bad; as soon as they made sure there was enough wood for the stove and the fireplace, they wandered off on some kind of Ranger business.  At least that’s what Halbarad had said it was.  A bit of sauce, that’s what it was.  More like they were up to some funny business by the telltale twinkle in their eyes.  Picking out a tin cup, she shoved the drawer closed with her hip and then measured out the flour, carefully scraping the excess back into the bowl.  

Thank goodness Bob and Elanna had volunteered to help with the redecorating and straightening up the common room.  Where was that butter Cammy just brought in from the back porch?  It's surely thawed enough by now.  And then there was Milo busily running, fetching and doing whatever was asked of him.  Why, if it were not for him, Camellia and Erin, there would not have been enough help to prepare the feast she and the other lasses had in mind.

Meri was still shaking her head over the odd ways of the Big Folk when a gust of cold air blew in through the kitchen's back door.  Shivering, she turned to reprimand whoever had let the door swing wide in this weather but caught herself at the sight of Dimereg shaking his long flaxen locks free of snowflakes and his younger brethren Firnelin kicking the door shut with the back of his heel.  Firnelin grinned at the foursome who dare do no more than shoot a glance at their entrance.  

The warm look in Dimereg's and the twinkle in the Firnelin's eye lent such a joyful look to the pair that she just didn’t have the heart to scold them.  Besides, it was she who had sent them out that door on their errand.  And fulfill their charge they had.  Long elven arms burst with evergreen branches of varying sizes.  Glossy holly leaves so dark green they bordered on black.  The fine fur of sea green pine.  And bittersweet!  Clusters of bright ginger berries nestled in crimson coats hung heavy on gnarled branches.  Wherever had they found them?

“Where would you like your greenery, little one?” asked Dimereg with an affectionate wink for the hobbit lass.

Not wholly immune to his charms, Meri stammered before collecting her thoughts.  “Umm, go ahead and take them into the common room,” she instructed, wiping her hands on her apron.  

She ignored the sly whispered elvish coming from Firnelin and Dimereg's following, "Shush!  Leave them be," and ushered them through the kitchen, opening the door for their passage.  

“If Bob and Elanna aren’t in there yet, they will be soon,” she called back to them.

Following her, the two elves lay their offering across a long empty table for Meri to inspect.  

The hobbit lass sifted through the greenery, inhaling deeply, and said, “I just love the scent when they are fresh cut."  

Having been relegated to indoor tasks long enough.  Firnelin backed up slowly and eased his way through the kitchen door.  The snowfall had made conditions for hunting so effortless and he could forego the dried corn he had set as bait in the forest no longer.  He had planned to attempt tracking wood mice, a hopeless challenge under any other conditions. 

Meri sighed, satisfied, and turned from the table.  "Dimereg, do you think you could…"

The hobbit lass blinked at the empty room.  

"Humph!" she muttered, hands on her hips, staring at the kitchen door narrowly.  

But before she could investigate the fortuitous disappearance of her elven friends, Bob and Elanna came through the other door, arms full of cloth and ribbon.  

Meri’s eyes grew to saucer size as she asked, “Now what in the Shire do you think you’re going to do with all that flummery and where did it all come from?”  Her eyes narrowed suspiciously, for although she didn’t mind Elanna using her supplies, Meri thought that she should have at least asked first.

“It’s for decorating with the greens,” Elanna explained with a grin.  The hobbit‘s thoughts were clearly mirrored on her face.  “It’s something my mother used to do and both Sev and Erin gave me the cloth and ribbon to use.  I just can’t cut it up too much.”

As Meri watched, the siblings exchanged excited grins.  Giving up, the hobbit-lass conceded, 'Well, as long as Elanna is in charge it should come out quite nice.'  Everyone had been asked to add some kind of tradition to the Yule days.  These two hadn’t done so yet and this was obviously their contribution.  At least it seemed to carry many happy memories with it and Meri was reluctant to dim their delight.  Indeed, upon closer examination, the seamstress in the lass began pairing swathes of cloth with the holly and pine in her mind's eye. 

Becoming excited herself, Meri commended, “I’m glad you both found a tradition to contribute.  I can’t wait to see the results; I’ll leave you two alone so you can start."  But, she couldn’t resist a parting shot.  “Now you do whatever your sister tells you when it comes to the decorating, Bob.”

The hobbit scurried through the kitchen door, snickering, before the Ranger had a chance to say a word in return.

“Should I tell her that you used to help mother long before I was ever allowed to?” Elanna giggled, looking up at the wry expression on her brother's face.

“And ruin my reputation!” he exclaimed, horrified.  “I think not!”

When the young woman continued to grin wickedly at him, Bob abruptly dropped his load on the nearest table.  Elanna squealed as he picked his sister up, Yule trappings still in her arms, and dropped her on a table.  She squirmed and laughed and, as Bob tickled her relentlessly, she desperately gasped for air, any chance of defending herself gone the moment his fingers touched her sides.

“Aye!  I give!  I won’t say a word!” she spluttered and hiccuped.  Ribbons and cloth went flying in colorful cascades to the floor as she ineffectively beat at his chest.

At last Bob relented and helped Elanna to her feet where her legs buckled.  Alarmed, he reached forward and attempted to support her in his arms when she bonelessly slid right through them.  His knees popped out from under him and suddenly found himself flat on his back.  Now it was Elanna who stood over him with her hand out.

“May I help you up, my dear brother?” Elanna asked sweetly, batting her eyes at him.  “I do believe you have fallen down, you poor dear.”

Deciding that caution was the better part of valor, Bob accepted her hand without trying to retaliate in any way.  She had never been able to knock him to the ground so quickly before and he was suitably impressed by her feat, though he thought he needn’t let her know that just yet.

Shaking his head, he grinned ruefully, “I guess I asked for that one, though I would like to know where you learned that move.”

“Dimereg taught me that one,” Elanna replied proudly and she bent to gather the scattered finery.  

Bob paused with gold ribbons in his hand and scratched his head.  “I thought you said Anbarad was helping you with the hand-to-hand fighting?”

“He was and he did,” Elanna replied, arching a brow in amusement at the sight of her brother with ribbons dangling around his black hair.  “It was who Dimereg oversaw all of the training I did with the elves.  It was his idea to emphasize building skills were I could use my height to my advantage."  She turned away from him and set her armful of material and ribbons down along with his share as she spoke, trying to sort the tangle they had become.  “I think I learned that rather well, wouldn’t you say?”

Her brother looked up from his sorting and merely smiled.  

“If you’d like,” Elanna grinned wickedly.  “I can show you what Dim has taught me with the knives.”

“I think not,” he retorted immediately.  “I’ve already heard from him about your ability with that particular weapon.  He seems to think it is where you are strongest."  

What Bob didn’t tell her was Dimereg’s detailed opinion.  The elf had said that, though effective with a sword, her size was a disadvantage, given her a shorter reach, but with the knives speed and agility were more important.  At the elf’s invitation, Bob had come to see one of her practice sessions without her knowledge.  He watched with admiration the flexibility with which she moved; a feat he knew would have been difficult for him.  He also saw how she used her size to her advantage to slip under her opponent’s guard.  By the time the session was done, he heartily agreed with the elf that Elanna had found her weapon of choice.

“Meet me with a sword and I will take you on,” Bob drawled, throwing a red ribbon her way.  “Otherwise you’ll just have to find someone else to play with when it comes to those knives of yours.”

“Humph!  You’re just lucky I don’t have any of my own yet!” Elanna snorted good-naturedly.  “Or I’d show you how I like to play!”

True to form, she punctuated her remark by thrusting out her tongue at her brother.  He laughed heartily, for as annoying as that habit of hers was, it was something she had retained from before her assignment to Nurn.  Still, he made a mental note not to anger her when there were knives handy.

“If you’re done making threats to my person, what about the dark red over there with some of the gold ribbon and green whatnots?” Bob asked, holding up a length of scarlet cloth in his hands.

Elanna looked at the cloth and then at the windows with narrowed eyes, imagining the combination he suggested.  Swagged over the windows and held at the corners with ribbons and evergreens, the cloth would frame the clear panes beautifully.

“That sounds wonderful, Bob,” she nodded in agreement.  ‘Why don’t you stand on that bench and I’ll use the table and hand you the material.”

So begun, brother and sister spent the next couple of hours arranging the decorations around the room.  Deep rich folds of scarlet held by gold and silver draped the mantel above the fireplace.  Warm ivory silk shot with gold fell in a rich curtain above the back of the bar, tied with ribbons of red and gold.  The fresh boughs of green hung from the swags and lay along the larger tables.  Bows of ribbon twisted from sconces along the wall.  Crowns of bright bittersweet berries wove through the dark iron boughs of the hanging candle lanterns.  Holly grew in the foothills of the Ephel Dúath and it had not been an easy ride to get it, but well worth the effort as its glossy leaves reflected the light and caught the eye amongst the matte green of the pine and juniper.

When not consulting with her brother on the arrangements, Elanna hummed to herself and let her mind wander over the events of the last few days.  Next to the moment her love for Halbarad flared anew, she kept returning to the night she had slept by his side.  She smiled to herself, for she understood now why her mother often let her sleep with her when Elanna‘s father was away.  How empty that big bed must have been to Elena, without Mateon next to her.  At least when her daughter was with her, Elena was not so alone.

Elanna faced a similar difficulty when she spent the next night back in her own bed.  Back in her own bed that was how she awoke the next day.  She vaguely recalled Halbarad wrapping her in the blanket she had brought the night before and carrying her to her room.  After depositing her gently in her bed, he had tucked the blankets around her and kissed her forehead.  When she first woke, she thought it might have been a dream but she was still wrapped in the thin blanket with the others set over her.  Sev’s bed had not been slept in either, thus convincing her it had been real, wonderfully real.

“What has you smiling like a cat that got into the cream?” Bob asked teasingly, knowing full well that she was thinking of his friend.

Elanna tried to will away the red that stained her cheeks, but it was hopeless and she knew it.  Still, she did not have to tell him the true reason.

“I was just thinking how happy I am,” she replied thoughtfully.  “I think I know how mother and father felt.”

Her smile drooped slightly with her last words.

Bob came up to her and held her by the shoulders.  “I miss them too,” he whispered softly and gave her a quick squeeze.  He swept his arm in the direction of the windows as he said, “Is it the decorating or not being able to tell them about Halbarad?”

“Both, I think,” she replied wistfully, her gaze lowered to his chest.  She plucked at one of the laces on his tunic.

Bob brushed the back of his hand down her cheek to her chin and cupped it, lifting until he could see the sapphire of her eyes.  “They would have been happy for both of you.”

The corners of Elanna’s mouth lifted.  “I know.  At least I have you to share in my happiness.”

He gently tweaked her chin.  “And you always will.”

She poked him in the stomach affectionately.  “Until the day I have to share you with some lovely woman who steals your heart."  

“I don’t think you need to worry about that."  Bob laughed gently and reached to grab her hand

“Why?” Elanna asked curiously.  Her assault on his mid-section came to an abrupt halt.

“Because I will never marry,” he said simply.

“Never?” She fell into the nearest chair in stunned amazement.

Bob lowered himself into the chair next to hers.  “Aye, little sister, never,” he confirmed.

She wasn’t upset with her brother, but she was definitely bewildered.  It was an answer she had not expected and it left her with only one response.  

“Why?”

Bob turned his chair until they sat knee to knee.  He reached for a lock of hair that had come loose from her braid during her labors and tucked it behind her ear.

“Many years ago I met a very special woman who could never be mine.  I loved her with all my heart and she loved me.”

Elanna’s face screwed itself up in confusion.  “But that doesn’t make any sense.”

Bob chuckled softly.  “It does when I tell you that it was not a romantic love such as you and Halbarad share.  She was much older than I was but she always treated me with love and respect,” he explained.

Elanna’s eyes grew misty.  “Oh Bob, who was she?”

He drew the moment out before he answered.  “Elena.”

“But-but,“ Elanna sputtered.  “That’s my mother!” 

“Don’t look so shocked, Star Girl,” Bob said and leaned back in his chair, lifting the legs from the floor, enjoying her reaction.  “I watched our parents love each other for seventeen years.  I know our father loved my mother, but she died so long ago."  He laced his fingers behind his head, tilted his chair back and gazed at the beams in the ceiling.  “I don’t remember her much.  Mayhap if I did remember more, I would have set my sights lower.”

“I’m not sure I understand."  Elanna sighed as she turned to set her elbows on the table and propped her chin in her hands.

Bob let his chair hit the floor with a thud.  “It’s simple, I wanted a woman who would love me the way Elena loved my father.  I knew that it would have to be a woman with the same qualities as your mother.  If I could not find a woman like this, then I would not marry.”

“And you’ve never married,” she said softly, staring at the grain of the wooden tabletop.

“Nay,” Bob said softly.  “Don’t look so sad, Elanna, I’m not.”

“But…” she turned to face him again and still, she could not think of what to say.

“I have all the family I need, right here, right now," he urged her to consider.  "You, Halbarad, Anoriath, Elros, Anardil have always been family, and now the people I’ve come to cherish here at the Troll."  Bob insisted.  He pushed his chair back and stood.  “So you see, I have no lack of relatives.”

“True, yet, you will have no children."  Elanna pointed out as she also rose out of her chair.

“Ah, not true.  I have no doubt that you will provide me with all the nieces and nephews a man could ever want,” he declared.  “Not to mention Anoriath’s little one, though I think I will have to fight Anardil on the spoiling of that child.  Still, I have first rights as far as indulging your children.”

Elanna wrapped her arms around her brother’s waist and squeezed for all she was worth.  Regardless of what he said, she couldn’t help but think that there was something terribly sad about the life he had chosen for himself.  

“My home will always be your home too,” she promised, to him and herself.

“I know.  Halbarad said much as you did, oh, sixteen or so years ago."  Bob grinned.

Elanna gaped at her brother in surprise.  “Halbarad knew back then that you had no plans to marry?  How?”

Bob patted her on the head and laughed only to find himself quickly dodging the hand that expressed her displeasure at his gesture.  

“Silly girl," he said  "I told him and he promised me as you did."  He sobered.  “And now the two people who made the same promise will be able to keep it together.”

She considered the coincidence for a moment.  “Odd isn’t it, how life turns out sometimes.”

The Ranger started to gather the leftover bits and pieces from the tables.  “Come, we had better clean and put these extras away or we’ll be banned from dinner tonight.”

Elanna was instantly roused out of her musings.  “Aye, if I get banned from the common room tonight Beregrid will be after my head.”

Now it was Bob‘s turn to ask with puzzled curiosity.  “Why is that?”

“Because I promised I would sing with him,” Elanna answered and smiled slyly.

Bob’s brow tilted suggestively.  He drawled, “Do tell.”

After thumping him on the arm, she explained Beregrid’s request and her promise as they cleaned.

Chapter Fourteen

Sixth Day of Yule
Dinner

The common room nearly burst with guests and friends, their laughter ringing softly across the tables that nearly groaned with their burden.  Though the food was wonderful and the atmosphere most conducive to consuming it, Elanna’s secret had her excited and keyed up to the point she could hardly eat.  The hobbit’s efforts went for naught as she picked and pushed the food around on her plate.  Concerned, Halbarad had tried to cajole her into taking a few more bites with his sweetest talk.  It took all her powers of persuasion to convince him that she was not ill, that, and she finally allowed him to feed her a few morsels.  

Just when Elanna thought she was saved from being forced to try to finish her dinner, a stern hobbit voice hit her ears.  

“Why Elanna, you’ve hardly eaten anything!” Erin exclaimed and pursed her lips.  “Does everything taste alright?  Are you feeling well?”  In response the girl rolled her eyes.  The hobbit tsked and demanded, “Now why are you doing that?”

“Forgive me,” Elanna apologized sheepishly.  “It’s just that I finally convinced Hal that nothing is wrong and then you ask.”

Erin patted the young woman’s arm.  “I forgive you then, but it seems a shame, when everyone worked so hard on making only the best dishes.”

Under the new weight of guilt, Elanna picked up her fork and took another bite, doing her best to ignore Halbarad’s wink and grin to their hobbit friend.

“There, better?” the young woman asked brightly, relieved when Erin nodded.  “Everything really is delicious and I promise I’ll eat more later.  I’m just so excited right now."  An impish grin spread over Elanna’s face.  “But Erin, you haven’t mentioned a word about how the common room looks tonight.”

The Ranger couple laughed as the golden-haired hobbit lass turned in a circle and guiltily glanced about the room.  Elanna followed Erin’s gaze in satisfaction.  The warm light from the hanging lamps and sconces accentuated the rich fabric and evergreens around the room.  The decorations added a bright festive air that had drawn appreciative compliments from their friends.  Her heart warmed all over again as she recalled their exclamations of delight upon entering the room.  They had been right, she thought, to share this tradition with their adopted family here at the Troll.  

“It’s beautiful, Elanna,” Erin pronounced stoutly after she finished her tour of the room.  “I’ll bet your home was a wonderful place to be on the holidays.  Elves are just so good at making everything they touch seem special.”

Elanna and Halbarad’s eyes met as they smiled.  That would have been a good description of Elena.  

“I only know our elves and my mother, but I would have to agree with you."  Elanna turned her eyes back to Erin.  “Our elves have made the Troll more than just an inn and my mother…” She paused and in that moment Halbarad took her hand in his.  “Mother always made everyone feel special.”

Erin recognized the misty shadow that passed over Elanna, for she, herself, had felt it often enough.  “You miss her, both your parents,” the hobbit stated, holding the girl‘s gaze with her own.

Her generous hobbit heart warmed as she caught a movement out of the corner of her eye.  Halbarad gently stroked the back of his beloved’s hand with his thumb.  He also understood her kind of loss.

Erin moved a little closer to Elanna and her round face lit up with remembered love.  “My da used to tell me that even when I was old and he was long gone from the Shire, he would always live in my heart.  'Always see things as if you were seeing them for me, because you will be.'  He didn’t know that I would have to follow his advice much sooner."  

'Is it that we’ve all known loss and sorrow that brings all of us here closer than we would have been otherwise?' Elanna wondered briefly.  It was a question that needed no answer, for the reasons that brought the residents to the Troll mattered naught beyond the unspoken ties that they forged about them, binding them gently into friendships that sustained them beyond words. 

“What do you think he would say about us?” Elanna asked.  She would have loved to have met the parents who had shaped the loving hobbit who had become as close as a sister to her.

Erin’s dimples appeared quickly.  “He would be happy for me, glad that I have found a place with good, true friends."  The lass could not resist a snicker or two.  “Even if a lot of them are Big Folk of one kind or another.”

Elanna pretended to take a swat at the hobbit-lass before adding, “My mother and father would have agreed with him.  My father always said you measure a man by his heart not by his looks."  She hugged her hobbit friend.  “He would have loved the people here as I do.”

“Ah, if we are handing out hugs, I believe I am overdue for mine,” a musical baritone interrupted.

Elanna smiled wistfully as she watched Erin being scooped up by Esgallyg.  His grin teased her as he bundled her up and held her under another sprig of Milo’s mistletoe.  The hobbit-lad had hung them about the room in unexpected corners.  She and Bob had agreed not too move them.  It was just too fun to watch everyone who did or did not get kissed under the gray-green leaves.

“Come now, no melancholy tonight of all nights,” Halbarad said, squeezing her hand that he still held.  “Else I may have to see what happens if I hold you under those sprigs again.”

At the smile that slowly spread across his face, Elanna felt a heat rising inside her in what was becoming an all too familiar response to that particular expression of his.  Remembering Anoriath’s advice only made her response worse, or stronger, she wasn’t sure which.

Elanna replied to his first comment in order to avoid thinking about how much she would like to follow his suggestion.

“I’m not melancholy, really I’m not."  She smiled, which wasn‘t difficult in the affection of his gaze.  “I was just remembering."  She let her eyes rest on the holly at their table.

Halbarad gestured to the room.  “Elena could have done no better.”

She smiled her thanks, basking in the warmth of Halbarad’s love.  'Never again,' she promised herself.  She would never again allow anyone or anything come between her and her beloved.  Lilting notes of the lyre and pipe caught her attention and drew her gaze away from Halbarad.  The same quartet from the other night had been pressed to play again on this last night of Yule.  She smiled.  Knowing that Anoriath, Esgallyg, Celebsul and even the little orc Titch were going to provide music tonight made it that much easier for her to arrange her surprise for Halbarad.  A hand brushed her cheek.

“And what thought is it that brings such a lovely smile to your face, my love,” Halbarad teased gently.  “Dare I hope it is for me and me alone?”

“Ah, my good Captain, I would that I could give you that solace, but I fear not,” she returned in the same spirit.

“Then show me the knave for whom you smile that I may challenge him for that honor,” Halbarad protested gallantly, pretending to search the room for the offender.

Elanna spoiled the picture by dissolving into hysterical giggling.

Halbarad gently tapped her on the nose.  “’Tis a good thing I love you, else I would have to be offended by that reaction.”

“I’m sorry,” Elanna hiccuped, not in the least bit deterred by his feigned disapproval.  She quickly looked for another door at which to lay the blame for her reaction.  Leaning in to him, she whispered, “I’m sure you’re aware that Ani and Elros have scarcely kept their eyes off each other tonight, a welcome change.”

Halbarad chuckled and whispered back,  “Indeed I have and actually, I’m amazed that they have restrained themselves to simply sitting across from one another, though I haven't had the courage to sneak a look at what may be going on beneath the table.  Their eyes certainly tell of something hidden.”

“More than their eyes speak when they think they‘re alone or that no one is watching."  The girl scooted her chair until it rested next to Halbarad’s.  “I’m so happy for them,” she said and slid her hands up his arms and around his neck.

“I too,” Halbarad said softly and embraced his love and kissed her hair.

It was quite possible that he was not the only one who had noticed the change in the two Rangers.  Anoriath and Elros did their best to present a friendly façade when in public, yet when their eyes met, they smoldered with an unbridled passionate love.  Having been forced to spend the last few months keeping the lid on similar emotions, Halbarad understood how they felt.  He smiled, remembering Elros’ words from just a few mornings ago.  It would seem that his friend had followed Halbarad's prompting and found his release first.

Elanna pulled back from Halbarad and gave him a smile that he could claim as his own.  “I love you, Hal.”

He kissed her brow tenderly, resisting the temptation of her lips.  He did not want to worry about self-control on this night.  He was sure that Anoriath’s advice did not include the common room as a trysting place.  Though from what he saw across the room, it looked like the thought had crossed his sister’s mind.

Elanna turned her eyes to see what he was looking at and giggled.  “That’s what made me smile in the first place,” she pointed out.  “See how he sits close while she plays and never takes his eyes off of her?  Yet, she won’t look at him.  I think she’s afraid that if she does, she’ll throw herself into his arms and then they would be forced to leave the room,” Elanna finished smugly.

Halbarad’s brows rose to exclamation marks above his eyes.  “She has told you this!” he blurted, wondering again what else the women had discussed in the pottery shed.

Elanna laughed.  “No, silly, but she told me enough that I understand what I see,” she said enviously and turned to watch the couple again.  “Lucky Ani!”
 
Ah, this filled in a blank or two that Anoriath had left when the siblings had talked the other day.  It seemed that he was not the only one with desires that were being thwarted by holding to convention.  He took Elanna’s hand in his and kissed its back.

“Our turn will come, my love,” he promised.

Yet, his breath was ripped from his lungs when Elanna brought her eyes back to his.  The innocent desire that warmed them pulled at his gut.  How was he supposed to resist her call when she looked at him like that?  He couldn’t.  He held her face and leaned forward.  Breaths mingled and lips touched as the room grew silent around them, until -.

“Are you kissing my sister in public?” a loud voice boomed.

They pulled apart abruptly, Halbarad wearing a wide grin on his face while Elanna’s cheeks matched the scarlet cloth at the windows.  Bob laughed and turned the chair backwards and straddled it.  He moved it slightly back when a sound slap on his arm led him to realize he was sitting too close to his sister.  He was smart enough to have sat out of Halbarad’s reach to begin with.

“Tsk, tsk, “ Bob clucked his tongue and let his voice rise to a falsetto.  “Such behavior in public for an unmarried maid.  Am I going to have to lock you in your room, young lady?”

Elanna glared at him, though they both knew she was not truly angry.  

“If you think you are strong enough to do so, go right ahead, my dear brother,” she said sweetly, with enough sugar in her voice to choke a man.  “I know where you keep your extra knife or, if you like, you believe you can best me in a contest with the weapon of my choice ...  “

She let the challenge hang in the air.

Bob roared with laughter.  “Nay, my sister, I am not so foolish as to accept that offer.  I know which weapon you would choose; ‘twould be the only you have already bested me with.”

Elanna and Bob had sparred once when she had been working with the elves to regain her skills.  He was curious about the two-knife technique she was being taught, as he didn’t think it would match up to a sword.  He learned differently.  Sword fighters, for the most part, kept some distance between them to keep out of range of their opponent while parrying, coming in close only to maim or kill.  Once Elanna was in close, she stayed there, effectively out of reach of his sword and able to inflict quite a bit of damage.  Her small stature aided her in this.

This admission nabbed Halbarad’s attention.

“You mean she actually beat you?” he asked incredulously.  Such a thing had never happened before unless Bob had allowed it.

Slightly shamefaced, Bob answered, “Aye, and more than once.  She has always been reasonably good at the sword, though she is much better with a bow, but with this two knife method, I think she has found her medium.”

Coloring slightly, Elanna hastily added, “I know it won’t be right in every situation.  Dimereg explained all that, but he said that I should use it whenever I had the chance.”

Halbarad tilted an eyebrow in amusement and stroked his bearded chin.  “I believe I have said this before, but it is worth saying again, you must show me.”

“I feel compelled to warn you,” she needled him good-naturedly as she ran a finger along his jaw.  She loved the feel of his short beard under her fingertips.  “That there is every possibility you will lose.”

“Ah, but it is not the victory I seek, it is the battle.  Even defeat at your hands would give me pleasure,” Halbarad drawled suggestively.  He captured her hand and placed a kiss on the palm.

The pink in her cheeks deepened to red and spread over her face.  She tried to drop her eyes from his but could not.  Whenever he looked at her in that way, his eyes caressing her, she would swear that she felt his touch and could do naught but place herself in his hands.  How did he do that?  She seemed completely unaware that his reaction to her was almost identical and just as strong.

Bob cleared his throat.  “Ahem!  If this is how you two intend to act towards each other, take my advice and get yourself wedded as quickly as possible."  He smiled broadly then hit the table with both hands and used the force to push himself up.  “I don’t know if the rest of us can take too much of this brazen display.”

Halbarad shook his head and laughed.  “I believe I was given that advice just the other day.”

“Well, since you can’t take it right now, may I suggest you two work off some of that passion in a manner that fits your unwedded status, such as dancing,” his friend offered, grateful that he had moved out of his sister’s reach.

“Bob!” Elanna exclaimed indignantly.  “You are so awful!”

“Awful or not, he is right,” Halbarad agreed.  He pushed back his chair and stood.  He held his hand out to Elanna.  “May I have the honor of this dance?”

Bob played the gentleman and pulled Elanna’s chair back as it was rather close to Halbarad’s.  She rose and took her beloved’s hand.

“Yes, my good captain, you may,” she said sweetly.  Without looking, she took a couple of steps backwards - and stepped down hard.  “Oh dear, forgive me, Bob, did I hurt you?”

Her brother made a great show of hopping on one leg, hunched over with his foot clutched in his hand.  “Suffering Sauron’s nose hairs, woman!  You’ve maimed me!  I’ll be crippled for life!”

Elanna laughed and proceeded to push him.  He lost his balance and, lucky for him, fell right into the chair behind their table.

“You are such a big baby,” she said unsympathetically, her hands on her hips.  “You only got what you deserved for saying such a thing!”

Sprawled untidily in his seat, Bob looked to Halbarad for aid, but found his friend smirking as he stood with his arms crossed, watching the unfolding comedy with interest.  Nor was Halbarad the only one, he soon realized.  Glancing about at the smiling faces circling them, Bob decided that he had provided enough entertainment for one night, but was not about to leave the stage without having the final word.

“You’re right,” Bob said contritely, his eyes cast down.  “Come here,” he asked, standing and holding out his arms.

Elanna eyed him suspiciously.  It was not like him to give in so easily but then again; maybe he really meant it.  She walked into the ambush of his arms, only to find them tighten around her and lift her from the floor.  Then Bob placed his lips against her neck and blew noisily against the skin.  The resulting sound could be heard by most of the room, along with Elanna’s shriek.

“BOB!”

With a satisfied grin, he set his little sister down, and then he turned his back to her and walked away.  Elanna continued giggling after her scream, for it had been a long time since her brother had done that to her, knowing how she hated it.  

“One of these days...” Elanna threatened vaguely and plucked a napkin from beside her forgotten plate and wiped her neck.

“I know,” Halbarad laughed and finished her sentence for her.  “You’re going to kill him.  If that fate had befallen him every time someone wished it on him, he would have died a thousand times before he turned ten years.”

“And deprive me of that chance,” she huffed in mock ill temper.  “I think not!”

“I believe I have a solution to soothe my lady’s ruffled feathers,” Halbarad said gallantly.  “Again I ask you, may I have the honor of this dance?”

“And again I say, yes you may,” Elanna replied, placing her hand in his with a smile.

***

And dance they did, as did many for love and friendship and joy of the season.  From the dark of winter came days that grew into sunlight; from the dark of hurt and heartache sprang hope for new days to come.  Lovers and friends let the music carry them away, and laughter rang among the fragrant boughs that festooned hall and hearth.  Hobbit feet danced as elves lightly spun, ranger boots thumped as hands clapped time, and the eyes of all shone with merriment and delight.  Nor in that place was it entirely unexpected when a tall Rohirrim trod the boards with elf maiden for one dance and a hobbit lass for another, whilst a great warg sat with a crimson ribbon about her shaggy neck and her tongue lolling in silent mirth.

If hand lingered in hand longer than perhaps was warranted, or if gazes held to each other as if constellations shone within, there was none to say them nay.  It was Yule, that was all, a time for friendship and happiness and celebration, and what better way to send out the old year than to leave it whirling in the tiny motes of dust from joyfully dancing feet?  So people danced, and those who did not dance smiled and sang and kept time, and the cold of winter whispered about the eaves and at last went away unwanted.

***

“Are you sure?” Halbarad asked, concern shadowing his eyes.

“I promised Beregrid in Nurn that I would sing with him when he got his voice back,” Elanna explained.  

He covered her hand resting on the table with his, unappeased.

“I realize that, but.”  Halbarad paused, seeking what he hoped were the right words.  “I also know how that song has been used to hurt you.  I remember what happened when -.”

“When we were mucking out the stable and you started humming it,” Elanna finished for him.  She turned her hand under his in order to grasp it, tracing the tender path of his veins with a finger from her other hand.  “I know I reacted badly and I’m sorry.”

‘Reacting badly‘, Halbarad thought grimly, ‘was the understatement of the year.’  

Upon recognizing the sweetly melancholy tune, she had begged him to stop, shaking like a leaf in a winter storm.  He'd twisted about on his feet in Mithraug's stall to find Elanna clutching the post as if it were a buoy and she were in threat of drowning on a turbulent sea.  Stricken by the pale ghost of his beloved that he beheld, Halbarad had thrown down the shovel in horror and run to catch her before her knees buckled.  She couldn’t breathe and her heart pounded so hard she felt as though it would explode from the force.  He had held her to him and could feel the truth in her words against his chest.  

Panicked, she had begged for reassurance that the arms she felt about her were truly his and she would not wake to find herself in Parcus' hut in the hills of Nurn, the last month a mere figment of feverish dreams.  When it was over, Elanna had been so exhausted that she'd barely crawled into her bed and had slept through dinner, the evening chores, and into the next morning.  Halbarad had not slept.  Instead, he had tossed and turned, fighting nightmares of a soft voice singing just below his comprehension interspersed with long periods of wakefulness in which he raged at how his love for Elanna had been used as a weapon against her.  He wasn't sure which of the two of them had been more frightened by the incident.  

To be fair, this had happened barely two weeks after her healing and Belegalda had warned them she would still have to work her way through the shadows as the came up.  Two weeks and it was now Yule, six weeks since that day.  Had it been long enough?

“Hal, please don’t worry."  Elanna let a small sigh escape.  “Until that one, terrible day, that song was what kept you close to me and gave me comfort.  Did I ever tell you that I sometimes used to hum myself to sleep with it after my beatings?”  She smiled at the surprise in Halbarad’s eyes.  “I did, truly.  Sometimes it was the only shield that stood between the darkness and me; the only thing that reminded me that somewhere in this world light and love reigned.  Hal, it is just one more thing he took from me that I want back.  I have to try.” 

“But here, in public?” he asked, still worried by his doubt.

She gripped his hand tighter.  “Yes, here.  In my home.  Where I know I’m safe and surrounded by my friends who love me and understand.”

A lump formed in his throat at her words.  Bob had confided in him just before the healing about how he had tried to tell Elanna about those who loved her and how the telling had fallen far short of her despair.  Poor Bob.  Halbarad now understood why his friend had wanted that perimeter run so badly that day.  Truth be told, if he had heard her words, he would have been fighting Bob for the opportunity to escape for a short time.  ‘What if it’s not enough?'  Praise Eru and all the Valar, it had been enough and Elanna had come to realize it.

“You’re right,” Halbarad said simply.

Elanna smiled.  “Did I tell you that Beregrid taught me his hand signs to the verses?”

“Nay, you didn’t."  Halbarad chuckled as he recalled how intrigued he had been by the Rohirrim man‘s silent language.  “Then let me say that I look forward to hearing and seeing you both.”

She leaned over and shyly kissed his cheek, although initiating the affectionate gesture was something she was not yet completely comfortable with.  Halbarad understood this and brushed his fingertips along her cheek, keeping her hand in his.  A gentle squeeze and he let her go.

Elanna met Beregrid along side the quartet of musicians where they held a hurried, whispered discussion.  When all were satisfied and ready, Beregrid and Elanna took their places in front of the window, beside Celebsul, Titch, Anoriath and Esgallyg who had already arranged themselves in a semicircle only a few feet from the hearth.  Before them, the floor had been cleared once again to make room for those who might care to dance.  While they waited a moment for the room to quiet down, Elanna quickly glanced to the table she and Hal had occupied, but he was no longer there.  Alarmed, she scanned the room, her eye alighting briefly on one beloved face after another, but not his.  Relief when she spotted him at the bar calmed her racing heart and removed it from her throat.  

She had told Halbarad that she had wanted to reclaim their song and she had meant every word of it, but now that the time had come she had to admit that she was nervous.  Nay, not nervous, terrified was more like it.  Parcus had taken the song and used it for his own twisted purpose, something she now remembered with sickening clarity.  She couldn’t help but think that sometimes amnesia had its good points.  

Yet, at the sight of her beloved, Elanna stiffened her resolve.  She wanted this.  With his dying breath, Parcus had asserted that she would never find release from his claim on her.  She would do whatever she could to prove him wrong, to wrest back those things he had stolen from her.  She wanted it all back.  She would sing this song with Beregrid and she would sing it for Halbarad, for herself and for their love.  Turning towards the shining faces watching her, man and elf, hobbit and warg, aye, even Titch the orc and every one of them her friends, the girl lifted her chin and spoke in a clear voice.  

“Tonight, my friend, Beregrid, and I fulfill more than one promise with the song we would like to share with you.  At one time, my friend was only able to speak with his hands, for war had stolen his powers of speech, and while in N-nurn -” Elanna stumbled slightly on the name.  “He taught me his word-signs to this song.”

As soon as she stopped speaking, Beregrid gave a nod and like a soft breeze rising, the music began.  The pipes spoke first, gentle woodwind voices flowing in a minor key through the first stanza.  Then, as smoothly as water flowing into water, the mellow tones of the twin lutes joined them building on the melody and harmony provided by the pipes.  The instruments alone told a tale of love, longing and hope, the slow, haunting spill of notes rippling through hidden rooms of the heart and whispering of infinite longing.  A tale told at last in words as Beregrid's mellow baritone lifted in the tenderly wistful melody of the first verse, while beside him Elanna's sweet harmony wove into the music like threads of silver.

'Black is the color of my true love's hair
Her lips are like some rosy fair
The purest eyes and the neatest hands
I love the ground whereon she stands.'

Yet wonder lay as much in the graceful movements of her hands, while music carried the silent, strangely elegant language taught to her by a man once stricken mute, by evil akin to that which had so marked her.  Images ran through Halbarad’s mind as he listened and watched.  Elanna hearing him argue with his sister from the porch on a hot summer night and the unvoiced words she had mouthed at him before disappearing into the inn's shadows.  A bittersweet kiss in a barn.  The light in her eyes that had been quenched when he had been the one singing on a makeshift stage on the Troll's grounds and that same light renewed on the morning she had left for Nurn.  So many memories wrapped in and around a simple tune.

The verse ended and lutes and pipes sweetly entwined a bridge between verses.  Elanna was not sure what Halbarad was thinking about while he threaded his way back to their table, but judging by the soft smile that rested on his face, his thoughts were pleasant ones, as he again took his seat.  She caught his eye as she claimed the melody from Beregrid.  Each slow note she sang flowed as cool and true as silk in the hand, and Halbarad scarcely breathed.

‘I go to the shore for to mourn and weep
But satisfied I never can sleep
I'll write to you in a few short lines
I'll suffer death ten thousand times.'

The emotions that the words stirred gave her voice a haunting quality and more than one eye grew wet as she sang.  Bob’s heart skipped a beat, as he thought how all too close to the truth the last line in the verse was.  Of all the verses in the song, it was this one that was the most difficult for Elanna and also why she was determined to sing it.  Beregrid had offered to trade verses with her, but she had stubbornly refused.  Now she let the visions that were conjured come, for not all were sad or evil, and she clung to Halbarad’s gaze as she sang.

Halbarad felt the intensity of her regard and did his best to return it.  He was one of the few people who knew intimately the Herculean effort that was required for her to sing those four simple lines.  He did not realize he had been holding his breath until she had finished and found there was an uncomfortable tightness to his chest.  The imprisoned breath was released slowly and shakily.  He caught a glimpse of the tears that filled her eyes as she dropped her gaze to the floor and stepped back to let her partner take the next verse.

'I know my love and well she knows
I love the grass whereon she goes
If she on earth no more I see
My life will quickly fade away.'

Elanna automatically signed the words that Beregrid sang, letting the warm, gentle flow of his voice be her anchor, her guide.  She did not try to sing with him, but kept her eyes glued to the floor in front of her while she worked at regaining the composure she had lost.  Thus she was caught by surprise when another voice, a familiar rich baritone, joined with Beregrid’s, a voice singing as he had sung only several months before, and yet a lifetime ago.  

A hand appeared and lifted Elanna’s chin.  Once Halbarad captured her gaze, he plucked her hands from the air in mid-word and held them to his breast while he sang the verse to its end with Beregrid.  Once again lute and pipe cast their brief, gentle spell.

“Sing with me,” he whispered to her as Beregrid smiled and silently stepped away unnoticed.

Together they sang, and the unhurried harmony they wove was true as starlight on a clear-flowing stream.  

'A winter's past and the leaves are green
The time has past that we have seen.'

The room that had been quiet to begin with fell into a silent hush.  

'But still I hope the time will come.'

’Twas not often such love between a man and a woman blazed for all to see.  While Halbarad and Elanna openly shared the depths of their hearts, here and there a hand crept to find its mate.

'When you and I will be as one.'

In the common room, promises renewed were sealed with a kiss as Halbarad placed his finger on Elanna’s lips.  With her hands still clasped to his breast he sank to one knee.  Tears began to spill one by one down her cheeks, as the voice of the man who loved her cast out the one who had tried to turn the song into a mocking travesty of what she now heard.

‘Black is the color of my true love's hair
Her lips are like some rosy fair
The purest eyes and the neatest hands
I love the ground whereon she stands.'

The last note rippled away, the musicians fell silent and for a long moment, the soft crackling and popping of logs in the great fireplace were the only sound in the room.

It was Halbarad who punctured the silence when he spoke.  A captain of Ithilien Rangers he was, but this night simply a man, kneeling before the diminutive, beautiful young woman who had forever captured his heart, who had never been lovelier than on this night.  

“My dearest Elanna, for years we both tried to deny our love.  But love won out and you pledged yourself to me ere you departed for Nurn.  Since then our devotion has passed through fire and shadow, it has been tempered with pain and sorrow.  Still our love survives."  Halbarad paused to clear his throat that had suddenly become thick with emotion, but his eyes never left hers.  “Do you remember what you told me, just before you mounted Dusul and rode out of the courtyard that day?”

Elanna made no move to wipe away her tears; to do so would have meant taking her hands from Halbarad’s grasp, a move she was not willing to make.  The wet ribbons that decorated her face gleamed and sparkled as they caught the light of the lamps and candles scattered around the room.  She, too, found it necessary to clear her throat before she was able to speak.

“Aye, I remember, I will always remember,” Elanna answered, and Halbarad nodded, encouraging her to go on.  “I said that I always come back to the one I love and you said … you said that when I came back, it would be to you.”

“And though the journey was harder and longer than either of us expected, you’ve come home and you’ve come home to me."  Halbarad suddenly stood and turned one of Elanna’s hands loose as he spun away from her and around to her side, making a sweeping gesture with the hand not still clasping hers.  “Family, friends and august guests, in your presence I would declare to all of Middle-earth that I love the fair Elanna and no other.”

The room broke out in cheers and hurrahs, and somewhere, someone began to thump on a table.  In seconds the whole place thundered and crockery jumped, as their friends boisterously expressed their agreement in the same manner.  Finally, smiling and shaking his head, Halbarad held his hand up.  It took some moments, but at last the room again fell quiet.

At their silence, the Ranger sank once more to his knees after taking back possession of Elanna’s hands.

“Elanna, daughter of Mateon and Elena, you are my one and only love.  With all in this room as witness I would ask that you give your consent to wed with me, to cleave only to me as I to you.  One heart…” Halbarad paused, lifting one of her hands and twining their fingers together, palm to back.  He lifted their entwined hands towards her.

In a daze, Elanna finished the gesture by placing her hand on his breast, completing the circle.  “One heart.“

She fancied she could feel the beat of Halbarad’s heart beneath her hand, as it was echoed by her own under his.  Her mouth was dry and she had to lick her lips, and her voice seemed scarcely a whisper.

“Aye, Halbarad, son of Arahad.  I will wed you and cleave to no other but you.”

Bob had to strain to hear her soft reply from the middle of the room before the bar.  He was sure that there were those who had missed her answer.  She would probably want to kill him tomorrow for what he was about to do, but it was a fate he felt he could live with, no matter how short that life might end up being.

To the Balrog’s dismay, Bob vaulted up on the bar and stood.  “’Tis not a binding answer unless it is heard by all who would bear witness,” he cried and added with a mischievous grin.  “I’m afraid you will have to repeat your answer a little louder.”

Bob’s voice broke the spell as Elanna turned her puzzled glance his way.  He laughed heartily and repeated his demand.

"Elanna, the witnesses could not hear you.  You have to state your pledge again."

It still took her a few seconds to comprehend what he had asked her.

With a tear-dampened face and shining eyes, Elanna turned to Halbarad once more and in a firm, glad voice said, “Aye, the answer is aye, I will.”

With a broad, foolish grin plastered across his face, Halbarad swooped Elanna up in his arms and spun her around.  

To one side a certain tall Rohirrim smiled, for Beregrid's heart rejoiced for his friend.  He would have been happy for her regardless, but having a love of his own made it easier to watch Halbarad spring his surprise.  A tap on his shoulder took his eyes away from the couple.

“The song thing, that was your idea, wasn’t it?” Sewulf asked knowingly.

“Yes,” Beregrid answered simply.

“You’re a good man, my friend,” Sewulf complimented the younger man as he clapped him on the back.

“No, I’m a selfish man,” Beregrid disagreed and then chuckled softly at Sewulf’s sudden frown.  “Fear not, I love my Lethwin, but you cannot deny the power of first love.”

Sewulf grimaced and the stretching and twisting of his scar made his expression all the more menacing.  “No, I cannot, whether its power is good or ill, but then again…” And his face relaxed into a nostalgic smile for the memory of Melin the potter of Nurn.  “There is much to be said about the power held in the heart of a second try at love.”

The two men raised their tankards in silent accord and then turned at Bob's voice.  The Ranger leapt back to the floor from the bar, clapping his hands and calling for a toast.  Ever one to accept the challenge of such an occasion with his flair for dramatics, Aerio lifted his glass and with the elven grace that Bob lacked in his performance, he leapt on top of the nearest table, scattering holly leaves and ribbons to the floor - but notably not spilling the drink in his hand.  

“ATTENTION!  May I have your attention,” Aerio called out loudly, turning slowly as he spoke to both survey the crowd and command the crowd's surveillance.  “Everyone, raise your glass with me in a toast!  A toast to love!”  The elf paused for a beat for effect.  “To love we have lost…” His eyes met with Sewulf’s and he tilted his glass in the man‘s direction, then to his master, Celebsul.  “And love we have found…” His glass tilted to Anardil and Sevi and to their hobbit couple, Milo and Camellia.  “And to love we have yet to meet!”  The elf gestured to the entire crowd.  “May the star of Elbereth shine brightly o’er all.  To Love!”

And, lifting mug and glass, in one voice they answered, “To Love!”

The Balrog moved from his place behind the bar to plant himself in front of his hobbit friends, giving them the privacy he thought they ought to have.  Glancing quickly behind him, Balrog smiled as Milo and Camellia chose to toast to love with their lips, their glasses dangling uselessly from their fingers, the contents spilling to the floor.  No one heard the sizzle as drops of wine snaked across the floor to meet their steamy end at the Balrog’s feet.

Hidden by the rim of his drink, Elros shot a glance at Anoriath.  Her eyes were lowered to her hands resting on the lute he had gifted her and a small smile played at her lips.  Bereft, he longed to share this moment with her but could think of no way to get her attention without betraying their regard to their friends.  He stared at her, hoping to catch her eye.  But in the intense shock when she abruptly lifted her eyes to his, he wished he had not.  If he had any hope of being discrete, he had better suppress the impulses that flooded him with that half-lidded look she gave him.  Impulses that would, alas, have to wait until they were no longer in a crowded common room surround by their friends and guests.

In their booth on the wall opposite to the large hearth, Anardil and Sevi laugh gently at Aerio’s performance.  Two dark heads turned to each other as one.

She shook her head and smiled at Anardil.  “We are a fine bunch.  Nmad fools, every last one.”

Anardil lifted her hand to his lips and kissed the palm.  “As am I your fool, meleth nín.”

For those whose loves no longer existed in this plane, there were misty smiles of remembrance and for a few perhaps there was wistful envy in the eyes of those who possessed no such memories.  But there was no envy or sadness to be found in Bob’s eyes, only quiet acceptance for what must be, and joy for what was.

And so Yuletide ended.  Many a haunting past had been laid to rest and for all, new hopes were raised for the future.  To the New Year.

~finis~

When the night has been too lonely
and the road has been too long
and you think that love is only
for the lucky and the strong

Just remember in the winter
far beneath the bitter snows
lies the seed that with the sun's love
in the spring becomes the rose.

Amanda McBroom