Lady of Battle

Lady of Battle

~*~*~*~*~Cheese and Wine
by Cheiron

Rating: NC17

~*~*~*~*~

Legal disclaimer:
Characters, places, events from JRR Tolkien's Lord of the Rings and Silmarillion used without permission, no attempt has been made, nor will be made, to copyright these characters and no profit is being made from this work. All other non-Tolkien characters are of my own invention.

Feedback appreciated :) ... Enjoy!


The next morning, Brenauth awakened abruptly, unsure of what had interrupted her sleep. The knocking at her chamber door repeated, this time accompanied by a voice. "My lady, are you in?"

"Y- yes" she replied.

"Lord Celeborn requests your presence in the great hall this morning. There is to be a council with the delegation from Greenwood."

"Very well, please tell him that I will be along in a moment." Brenauth rose from her bed and began to dress. Fragments of the dream she was having floated through her mind. She couldn't quite recall the dream, just basic details, and even though she was sure it was about the same elf, she was grateful she couldn't remember all the particulars.

As she walked, she chastised herself for her behavior lately. She was loosing the edge which she had prided in for so long. The events of late, and her sprawling thoughts, had taken their toll on her and were diminishing her mind. She was distracted and indecisive and knew she had to clear her thoughts. She could not represent the Lady Galadriel in her current state, so as she walked she focused on gathering her wits and reached out to the trees for strength.

She walked on, increasing her speed, determined to focus in on the tasks ahead. With her mental determination growing, her old physical appearance began to return; the usual empty stare, the focused and knowing eyes and stern, confident posture. By the time she reached the center of Caras Galadhon, her usual cold and steel stare had returned causing the guards at the gate to the great hall to stiffen and discipline themselves as they stepped aside to allow Brenauth, Lady Seneschal, to pass.

She climbed upward, toward the high part of the chambers and marched sternly toward her destination. Without hesitation she walked right through the grand doors and into the great hall. All eyes turned toward Brenauth as she stopped and bowed to her Lord and Lady; the meeting had already started. She paused for a brief moment, taking in the room before her. To her right, were seated twelve delegates from Greenwood. To her left were representatives of Lothlorien. Across the length of the oval table, stood the Lord and Lady. After glancing quickly, she only found one seat still free – to the left of the new March Warden. Walking toward the chair, she met his eyes and felt his vacant expression feeding on her strength.

‘Why am I so weak?’

She concentrated on keeping her strict expression. Moving gracefully, she rounded the chair, sat, and turned her attention to the head of the table, nodding to the delegates from Greenwood. Although it wouldn’t have showed, she felt twisted inside. She couldn’t understand why she felt so uncomfortable in the presence of the March Warden. But she held fast, sitting proudly; head held high, her expression that of Highborn, but, in her naivety, and her concern for the March Warden, she hadn’t notice the reaction of the Greenwood delegates.

All twelve showed open curiosity. Upon her entry, all had stiffened after gazing upon such an unusual looking raven-headed Sinda. They, like the elves of Lothlorien, bore the silvery blonde tresses, and although the elves of Rivendell were dark headed brunettes, none bore the locks of black hair as Brenauth did, nor her silver eyes. Although Brenauth had dwelled within the borders of Lothlorien for the past one thousand years, she had not met with the elves of Greenwood before this day, having always kept to herself. And it hadn’t occurred to her to expect this reaction, the elves of Caras Galadhon having accepted her presence in their realm.

Brenauth realized the silence and noticed the elves of Greenwood glancing slightly at each other, slim smiles crossing their faces. One in particular, seated farther down the table, keeping his eyes fixed on hers, smiling brightly. The elf next to him leaned closer to whisper something into his ear, which he answered quietly, keeping his eyes set on her. The March Warden shifted uncomfortably in his chair.

He had noticed the way these delegates were looking at the Lady. Of course, he had always known her to be beautiful, but hadn’t anticipated these elves to be so infatuated with her. Minutes passed, and while Lord Celeborn welcomed the party, Haldir felt his own frustration building somewhat.

“Elves of Greenwood, it is my honor to introduce to you the Lady Galadriel’s Seneschal, Lady Brenauth,” finished Celeborn.

All eyes fixed upon Brenauth who reacted superbly by lowering her head slightly,

“It is my honor to receive you my friends. You are most welcome,”

to which obvious shock appeared on the delegate’s faces, at hearing her voice. Brenauth was confused. She did not know what to say. She looked to Galadriel who smiled sweetly and chuckled once. She did so enjoy seeing her old friend so baffled. It always amused her.

“My Lady, Brenauth,” the one who still had his eyes fixed on her, the only one who didn’t look shocked, spoke, “your accent, is it Doriath?”

It hadn’t occurred to Brenauth that her accent would arouse such curiosity. She had lived here for so long that the elves of this realm had simply gotten used to it. But to these newcomers… she hadn’t thought of it. She smiled to herself, slightly amused at her own ignorance.

“Forgive me, my presence today must be surprising,” her pure voice softly began to explain, “My accent is that of Valarin.”

“Of course!” One of the younger delegates, excitedly exclaimed. He turned to look at the one who kept his stare still fixed upon Brenauth.

“Could it be?” he asked under his breath, “Tell me, can you speak our mother language?” The others, even elves of Lothlorien, eagerly awaited her answer.

“High-Elven, Quenya?” a smirk had formed on her face and suddenly she felt powerful again, “Of course.” She said it as if they had asked a tedious question.

A couple of gasps filled the air and the great hall seemed to freeze. The same elf of Greenwood spoke again.

“Please, my Lady, tell us. Of which was your home realm?” Brenauth immediately turned her head in an inquisitive manner. She wondered why this elf had interest in her background. She had never been asked these questions before. The elves of the Golden wood had always respected her confidentiality. Galadriel had seen to this personally, but Galadriel’s interest was peaked now, as well.

Brenauth could feel the entire room’s curiosity and on any other day it would have annoyed her. She would simply have refused the question and insisted the affairs moved on but, for some reason, reasons she wasn’t sure of herself, she wanted to tell.

‘Why not?’ She thought as she chose her words carefully and nobly began to speak,

“After my home, Gondolin, fell many years ago; after the many trials and battles which followed, the Valar chose that my fate lead me here, to Caras Galadhon.” She had managed to say it with complete and utter control.

There wasn’t an elf in the great hall that wasn’t in shock, except Galadriel who was still somewhat surprised. Never had any of the others been in the presence of one as ancient as Brenauth, besides Galadriel, but none were as surprised as the March Warden. Besides all the air leaving his lungs upon this revelation, no one would have noticed his shock.

All of the delegation relaxed back into their chairs with stunned expressions of esteem on their faces. The elf down the table, eyes still fixed on Brenauth, continued to appraise her with a luminous expression. He was making it no secret that he admired her.

“Were you there?” He asked softly, almost to himself, while most of the others attention had turned back to the Lord and Lady. His eyes beaming of kindness, he waited for a reply. He only received a last look of notice from Brenauth who then joined the others. He continued to look at her for some time before his view of Brenauth was interrupted for the first time since she had entered the room. The silver haired March Warden had leaned farther into the table, obstructing the admirer’s view. This act followed by a slight turn of his head, allowed Haldir to roll his eyes back to meet the other’s gaze.

‘You have looked long enough.’ Haldir thought.

Haldir returning his attention to the head of the table, relaxed back into his chair, obviously pleased with himself. The elf behind him merely chuckled to himself as his smile grew larger.

~~~~~~ ~~~~~~


After the meeting concluded, Haldir walked briskly toward the training grounds. Now alone, he wore his frustration on his face; his movements jerky, his brows rutted, his steps inconsistent. He marched onto the training field and began to make his way through the sparring pairs of soldiers. He paid them no mind and continued farther into the barracks; a few pausing to stare in curiosity toward the unusual mannerisms of the March Warden. Once inside he began to tear his wrist guards off forcefully, throwing them as hard as he could against the wall. His armor followed quickly, then his tunic. Only his leggings remained as he stood in the open panting uncontrollably. He would rip his own skin off if he could.

So many feelings coursed threw him at once. He didn’t know where to start in order to deal with these personal conflicts. First and foremost, he knew his anger was mostly turned inward. As the child of a warrior and defender of this realm, he had been raised amid the stories of the ancient ones, their struggles, their victories and the amazing honor that they had shown in the worst of times. Once in training himself, he had wanted to model himself after these great warriors and since then, had behaved as honorably as he could in every situation. But what he had done on that day… He could not stand it! What could have been a truly admirable deed – the rescue of this powerful and revered Lady, he had tainted with his criminal act.

‘I did not know’

But what did that matter, he thought. It shouldn’t have mattered who it was. What he had done was not an act of honor. It was a disgrace, and yet, he had lain awake every night since, remembering the pleasure he had felt from it. Her skin, her softness, her warmth, her full hips, her breasts, her smell – a smell that had tormented him all morning during the assembly. He had strongly desired to lean forward in order to clasp a lock of her hair and raise it to his lips, to better catch the scent. It had driven him insane during the course of the meeting.

During those first few nights, he had thought he was satisfied with what he had managed to take, and he truly was, for he had never felt such contentment from his past conquests. That is, until he remembered one vision of that day; she had opened her eyes. Until then, his appetite had felt completely satisfied but one glance of her diamond eyes had taken it away.

Still on his knees, his face had rested on her shoulder as he held her in his clasp. In his arms he could feel the smallness of her waist as he rested her long body atop of him in order to enjoy being inside her for those few moments. He had raised his head to begin moving again when his eyes had met hers.

‘They bewitched me’

It was at that moment that he had needed more. He had thrust harder and harder, faster and faster. Even changing position, but to no advantage. He just could not be satisfied at that moment.

Standing in the center of the barracks, Haldir let his head fall back, remembering her eyes- the eyes of this great Selda, a Lady of Gondolin. He truly felt sick, but illness turned to anger as he remembered the looks the delegates had been giving Brenauth, especially the one elf. Until then, he had thought himself indifferent, but the longer that wood elf had gawked at the Lady, the more and more Haldir had felt he had no right to look. He did not want them near her. As a matter of fact, he did not want anyone near her. He felt protective and wanted to shield her from any further acts against her, but there was one thing he could not protect her from – himself.

“What ails you, brother,” Orophin walked up behind the March Warden and placed his hand gently on his brother’s shoulder.

At this, Haldir quickly snapped around and glared at his younger brother. He flexed harder and breathed heavily while his brother gently raised his hands up in a surrendering manner. Haldir turned and reached for his sparring sword, walked to the door, turned, and motioned for Orophin to follow.

Orophin let his head fall to one side, apparent puzzlement on his face. He truly had never understood his brother’s closed manners, and honestly, was getting a little tired of it.

‘I’m tired of trying to figure you out. I’ll just batter you in this session and put you in your place,’ he thought as he removed his clothing and picked up a sword. He walked to the door where Haldir waited and paused,

“Gerich thû úan,” (You smell like a monster.) He whispered it directly into Haldir’s ear, knowing provoking him weakens his sport, and walked calmly and confidently toward the field.

“Not this time,” Haldir, showing no expression, followed.

~~~~~~~~ ~~~~~~~~


The sun glinted high above the magical waters of the great Anduin River. The wind was soft and cooling but the sun warmed making this the perfect day for bathing in the river’s pools. Many were about the banks and islands of rocks within the river; elves swam and dove in the depths while others sun-bathed and laughed in conversation. The others had acted a tiny bit surprised to see Brenauth there. She had usually avoided going there when others were about but today she had not minded their presence, besides, the glances had changed somehow today. They actually made eye contact with her and smiled toward her, which served to help make her more comfortable. This and the meeting that morning had helped to create her fair mood.

As she laid out over one of the large rocks, just aside the bathing pool, she twirled her fingers in the water as she debated why she had avoided meetings such as this morning. It had been exhilarating and she had enjoyed talking with the wood elves. She had usually avoided them when they would visit her realm and wondered why she had done so.

‘It really was silly.’

They had a casual manner about them; a way of making all the protocols and fancy ways of the highborn unnecessary. They seemed to bring their realm and merry traditions with them no matter where they traveled and, above all, they loved to laugh. She thought on all the rumors she had heard about them; Recluses, paranoia, suspicions, and mistrust – even of the elves of other realms, but these elves acted no such way. They were direct and open and it was a relief to Brenauth who, after only minutes in their presence, had told more about her own past to these strangers, than she had told anyone since she arrived in Caras Galadhon.

She laid back and stared into the sky. She felt relieved and uplifted. She thought that maybe this was due to her letting something of herself out in the meeting. Maybe this was what she had needed to do long ago. Maybe friendly faces and sharing a small part of herself had been helping her, but this change in her mood had all started after she awoke after her attack. Although she could still feel Tulka’s warmth enveloping her, even at this moment, she knew there was more to this sudden realization. She had been thankful to awake that morning in the camp and even more thankful to see Rhokrist’s face later. That morning was the first time she remembered feeling that way about her young friend.

She heard a splash to her left and turned her head to see Rhokrist heading her way. She smiled to herself and turned back toward the sky.

‘Isn’t it strange that she seems to appear when I’m thinking on her’

“I’ve been hearing strange rumors about you,” Rhokrist quickly and in an animated fashion flinched as if to prepare for an attack and then ducked under the water. Brenauth giggled and waited for her friend to surface.

Rhokrist came up laughing and pulled herself along side Brenauth so she could lie next to her. Once settled Brenauth spoke,

“I can’t wait to hear what they are saying now.”

Leaning up onto her elbow, Rhokrist continued with a serious look on her face.

“Were you really there?” She had spoken in a humbled voice.

Rhokrist turned to face her, rising up onto her elbow as well and gave her a look of understanding. She thought for a moment and decided what better time to start trying her new theory on being open, than now.

“Ai, Rhokrist, I was there.” She had said it as neutral as she could.

Rhokrist looked around for a moment, obviously taking it in. She then turned back to Brenauth.

“I hadn’t realized you were that old,” she laughed out loud as Brenauth pushed her onto her back and, with a grumble laid down herself, both looking at the sky now. A few moments passed.

“I was to reach my majority that following summer. I wasn’t much younger than you are now. I was beautiful and full of life, just like you. Only, because of my station, I was not free to enjoy it as you do,” she laughed a little at this, “I loved my home and only thought of my silly personal conflicts until the horrid moment I heard their coming.” Brenauth even surprised herself at how peaceful she was sounding as she said this.

“I lost my entire family that day; father, mother, my younger sister and little brother, still an elfling. Even my older brother, who I loved dearly, fell that day,” she smiled to herself at his memory.

‘No, Ecthelion, I have not forgotten you, dear one,’ she thought.

“What was his name,” Rhokrist was on her elbow again, listening with awe, holding onto every word.

“Ecthelion,” Brenauth said it with pride.

Rhokrist took in a short breath and held it. Her eyes batted as she looked at the sky to find the right words.

“Ecthelion?” She paused, “Of the House of the Fountain?” she asked carefully.

“Ai. My people had said he was the fairest of all the city, and he was.” Brenauth was finding that talking about him made her happy, her pleasure clear on her face. Rhokrist, seeing this smiled truly and continued,
“So you were of his house, and are a descendant of the High Elves?”

“Ai, we were called Tareldar. I was of the second generation, descended from the Amanyar, Elves of Light. My father had said it was why the trees loved me so, for our ancestors had looked upon the Two Trees of light.” It became apparent to them both that she was thinking aloud.

Brenauth was content as she lay there. She couldn’t remember feeling more at home since she had arrived in this realm and she was happy that she had told her friend this. For a brief moment, she allowed herself to think of ‘him’ but, feeling sadness creeping in; she pushed it aside and was content for now. She turned to glance up at Rhokrist who was still on her elbow, leaning above her, smiling. Brenauth smiled back at her and closed her eyes.

Rhokrist had never seen Brenauth like this. She wondered what had brought on this sudden change but, nevertheless, was happy for her. Brenauth was her mentor, her guide, and her friend and she wished her joy. She relaxed back next to Brenauth, raising her arms behind her head to rest.

“You know, you are beautiful too. I wonder if you know this.” Rhokrist’s usual playful tone was back.

“I was considered fair in my home,” Brenauth was beginning to feel drowsy from swimming and the sun. She felt that she might even doze right there.

“Many of the males think this as well. I have heard them comment on how your light outshines many of us in this realm.” Rhokrist peeked to see Brenauth’s reaction.

Brenauth’s eyes had flown open and her smile had quickly disappeared. She slowly turned her head to look at her friend only to find Rhokrist laughing quite hard and trying to muffle it with her hands. Brenauth quickly pushed her off the rock and into the water. She slipped in after Rhokrist and began to playfully wrestle, splashing the water into Rhokrist’s eyes, causing her to loose her footing and tumble over one of the small water falls. At seeing this Brenauth laughed loudly. Her voice echoed through the gorge, freezing all who were present to their spot.

When her laughter died down, she realized that all eyes were on her, including Rhokrist’s, who stood below her, looking up at Brenauth with a bright smile but a baffled brow. Brenauth stopped and gave a questioning look toward her friend.

“I have never heard you truly laugh like that, Brenauth.” Rhokrist stood still waiting for her friend to respond while Brenauth looked around and realized that everyone was watching them. For several moments she looked back and finally turned back to her friend who still had the most humorous look on her face. Brenauth turned around so that Rhokrist could not see her face. Rhokrist stopped smiling and, concerned, started to walk up to her when she heard a slight wheeze. She stopped to see that Brenauth had turned back and was fighting to control her laughter.

Brenauth felt that this whole situation was ridiculous and at that moment, had realized that it was entirely her own doing. She could not help but laugh at all the elves present at the river, including her friend who had just plummeted into the water. The looks on all the other’s faces was absolutely hysterical and the tears began to swell in her eyes from laughing so hard. She leaned over the fall and offered her hand to help Rhokrist up which she accepted of course, but only to have Brenauth shove her back over again. To this, Brenauth bellowed harder than before and the other elves at the river joined in. Rhokrist came up angry at first, but upon seeing her friend’s state and all the others, joined the laughter, grabbed Brenauth’s feet and pulled her in.

The sounds of the small waterfalls were drowned out by all the elves laughter, including Brenauth’s, who came up laughing and tackled her friend. She truly couldn’t remember having this much fun in a long time. They played like younglings, for how long, Brenauth did not know. Their laughter and screams could be heard by all the bewildered spectators, laughing at the Lady Seneschal’s good humor; even some of the Greenwood elves who had accompanied the Delegates from their home realm, had witnessed these events, but what neither Brenauth or Rhokrist knew was that some of them had even heard their entire conversation.

~~~~~~~~ ~~~~~~~~


The scrolls were swarming upon her desk as she worked late that night. She had come back to her quarters and started work immediately on the scrolls the Greenwood elves had brought with them. The mess had forced her to move to the floor, on the rug, next to the mantel. She had thought what better way to end this day than to do what I love - history. She was renowned for her historical knowledge and their guests had explained at the meeting, word of Brenauth’s knowledge was even known in their forests. Again, they had honored her.

Her quarter was filled with light from the fireplace and candles. She had drawn back the curtains to better allow the moonlight in as well; the gentle breeze blew through her room making her extremely comfortable. She had brought with her a bottle of the Greenwood wine which Rhokrist had insisted she try and a plate of cheeses and fruit to complement it. Despite her recent changes, she still couldn’t think of a better way to spend an evening – wine, food, and good reading.

She lay on her stomach, propping her torso up on her elbows, chewing on a large piece of cheese, and reading the scrolls. This one, in particular, was an intercepted message the Greenwood guards had fought from a party of Orc cutting through their forests. It was written in the black speech, which she could easily decipher, and contained instructions for the Northern orcs to prepare for battle, giving strategic battle plans for them to follow; they were being told to move south and wait for further instructions. She sat up suddenly upon seeing the name signed above the seal of Mordor It was the same name she had seen on the documents, sent from Gondor, she was currently translating – Thrakthenin .

She continued on, feeling her eyes start to burn. She took a large sip of the wine and then rolled over onto her back, holding one of the scrolls up so as she could continue to read, but her mind rambled a bit, maybe because of the wine but mostly because of recent events. The March Warden’s image in the Meeting that day kept creeping into her mind. Although the day had turned out very fulfilling, it still concerned her that she felt so uncomfortable in his presence. Maybe it was because deep down, Brenauth knew that she owed him something. After all, he had saved her life. But how to repay him and eliminate this nervousness she had around him, she did not know.

After the meeting had concluded, she and the Lady Galadriel had taken private counsel. Galadriel had made it clear that Brenauth and Haldir would be working closely together in the future. Brenauth knew then, that she had to overcome this awkwardness she felt toward him.

She leaned over and took a few more sips of wine.

‘It is good, this wine.’

Laying back, Brenauth thought about how she had sensed the March Warden’s eyes burning into the back of her head during the meeting, but every time she had turned, it had not been him, but the golden-haired wood elf looking at her. She chuckled a little at the thought of him. He seemed harmless enough but she could tell that he had been slightly infatuated with her that morning. He had not appeared to be a young elf, but seasoned and experienced. His easiness was very relaxing and, above the others, had seemed very kind and sociable. His disregard for protocols made it apparent that he remained at ease no matter who enter his company and he had a way of making those in his presence feel the same way. His companions appeared to respect and feel at their leisure around him. She wondered about his station in his realm; soldier, advisor, or maybe even a captain. He had a build of a soldier but possessed the manners of a court member. She was unaware of their customs or dress, so unable to determine any rank among them.

She reached up and rubbed her eyes with her thumb and index finger, yawning and stretching, releasing the parchment. She was tiring. She sipped more wine and lay to her side, facing the fireplace. As Brenauth stared into the dancing flames, she pictured the golden-haired wood elf’s bright and friendly smile. As she yawned again, she closed her eyes and thought to herself,

‘He is quite fair.’…

She was standing in the large field, a rolling sea of tall grass grazing the palms of her hands as she walked slowly through the waist high meadow; the moonlight providing a highlight of shimmer over the trees and plant life throughout the land and into the forest ahead. She continued turning in her spot and glancing all around. It was a peaceful night.

She began to twirl, faster and faster, laughing and playfully dancing in the moonlight. She was feeling like a young elleth again when she heard his voice.

‘Salda,’ an unfamiliar voice sang softly.

She stopped puzzled, and began to look around the field. She turned to face the open plain.

‘Salda,’ his voice was soothing and clear inside her mind. She turned calmly and saw him. Far across the large glade, at the forest edge, he stood in front of the moonlight, his silhouette appearing tall and broad, his cape whipping in the wind. Walking toward him, she could not make out any of his features. She advanced faster, her walk opening into a jog. Still he waited at the forest edge, patiently.

‘Salda,’ His voice continued to guide her to him. She had almost reached him when he suddenly turned and dashed into the forest. She stopped at the forest edge and glanced momentarily before slowly walking through its threshold. She began to run again, dashing around the large trees when she caught a glimpse of him far ahead. Following in his direction, she broke into a strong run, faster and faster, she tried to catch up to him, only catching brief flashes of him as he led her farther into the dark trees.

‘Salda.’ She could not catch him. She ran and ran, stopping and turning, trying to decide which direction to go, running in random directions now that she had lost sight of him.

‘Here, Salda,’ His whispers led her to walk when she enter the small clearing, the moonlight shining down through the trees. Across from her he stood, his back turned away from Brenauth, his silhouette only several steps away. She stood still and waited.

“It’s all for you, ‘Salda.” His voice carried across the clearing as she stood for a moment. She decided to advance, walking slowly, she closed the gap between him, when only a couple steps away he stepped aside, revealing a smaller figure standing in front of Brenauth.

Looking closer she could see that it was a feminine figure and she was crying, her head leaned forward into her own hands, her body shaking as she was sobbing uncontrollably.

“Why do you cry?” Brenauth asked as she came closer. The elleth took one step into the moonlight, dropping her hands, allowing Brenauth to see.

“I cry for you,” she replied as she revealed herself.

Her eyes were missing, bloodied tears poured from her emptied sockets. Her body revealed, ragged chunks of flesh hung from the vicious wounds, covering her naked body.

The figure before Brenauth barely resembled her friend, “Rhokrist!”…

Her eyes flew open, yet she hadn’t moved. Brenauth was still lying on her back, next to her mantel, in her quarters. She took in a large breath and released it, glanced around and relaxed her head back into the rug, exhaling loudly. She turned her head and looked at the empty bottle of wine and shrugged.

‘Greenwood wine is strong,’ she chided herself for drinking the entire bottle.

She sat up and began to gather the scrolls all about the floor, all the while shaking her head.

‘Salda,’ a quick whisper.

Her head flew up and she glared out through the curtains of the room. Slowly, she stood and walked out onto her flet. Frantically, she searched the grounds below, nothing to see. She turned and walked toward her room.

‘Salda,’ It sounded like the same voice from the dream.

Quickly, she ran back out and down the stairs to the grounds. Once there, she yelled,

“Who is that!” She was extremely angered. She could only deduct that whoever it was, had been doing it while she was sleeping.

“Who is there, I say! Show yourself!” She waited but there was no reply. She continued to walk through the garden loudly, mumbling curses to herself. She stopped, seeing the moving limbs on the path’s edge.

“Is someone there?” She finally asked.

When she twisted to face a noise coming from behind her, she turned to find the March warden standing in the center of the path.

“My Lady, is all well?” his face full of concern.

“Uh…well… ,” she turned back to look at the limbs, confused she faced him again.

“I thought there was someone…” she trailed off, realizing she had been mistaken. It was probably just her imagination from the dream.

Haldir could tell she was somewhat distraught, stepping aside; he motioned for her to walk with him. He would escort her to her quarters. Still baffled, she accepted, and walked ahead, her confusion still apparent on her face.

TBC...