"I suggest we start our tour at Cerin Amroth," Orophin said to Filanna as they rode out from the city side by side. "It isn't very far, not twenty miles from here, and it is a must-see for every new visitor of Lórien." He smiled. "Are you in agreement?"

She nodded. "I have heard about the mound of Amroth, and about the beauty of the place. I would very much like to see it."

"Very well, Cerin Amroth it is. I know of a path that will lead us there almost directly."

Filanna was nervous, for she found herself in a situation that was alien to her. Her plans for the day had been disarranged when this Galadhel, this elf she barely knew, had volunteered to accompany her, and although she had accepted the offer herself, she was painfully aware of the fact that she now had a companion to entertain. How in the name of Eru was she going to spend an entire day with Orophin without boring him to death? Small talk was not exactly her strongest point. Surely he would regret his offer before this day was even half over, and that thought depressed her already. Oh, why did she have to be such a twit? Why couldn't she just be charming and witty, like everyone else?

She had tried so hard to convince herself that she did not care what the Galadhrim thought of her, but in truth, she did care. A lot. Although it was not something she gladly admitted even to herself, her fondest, most secret dream was all about being liked and loved, admired for her qualities and talents. She wanted Orophin to like her, she wanted to make a good impression on him, and on Celeborn and Galadriel as well. Those two were both so formidable, ancient and wise; in their eyes she was probably a child still, an elfling with no special accomplishments or great deeds behind her name, except a title she had obtained merely by being born. But they were very warm and kind to her, and for that she was grateful.

As for the other warden she had met the day before- she was not sure what he was thinking of her, but she did know that she could do without meeting him again. The memory of his bold gaze sweeping over her still made her shiver. But to her great relief, he had ignored her at the party the night before. She had secretly glanced his way a couple of times and taken note of the fact that he danced little but well, and that he and Orophin seemed rather friendly with one another. This had surprised her, but since the two shared the same profession, they probably knew each other quite well.

"What do you know of Cerin Amroth?" Orophin asked her.

"Well..." She searched her memory for a moment or two. "I know that it was the chief dwelling of the Galadhrim before Caras Galadhon was built, and that the first telain were constructed there by King Amroth, son of Amdir."

"Inspired by his love for Nimrodel, a Silvan elf-maiden." Orophin nodded. "The first millennium of the Third Age was a time of peace and prosperity for us. But the shadow that descended on Mirkwood after that affected Lórien as well, and when in 1981 a Balrog drove the Dwarves out of Moria, the days of Cerin Amroth were over. We were not prepared for the orc-hosts that were drawn to Moria and fell upon our woods. Most of Cerin Amroth was destroyed."

"Do you remember that time?"

"I do, but I was a young elf at the time, not qualified to fight. My brothers did fight at the front, so they have the stories to tell, but those aren't happy tales. My mother and I fled, along with many others, and saw little of the slaughtering."

"And your father?"

"He fought as well." Orophin paused briefly. "He was slain."

"Oh." She glanced at him. "Oh, Orophin, I'm sorry."

"Do not be." He gave her a smile. "It was a long time ago, and he died with honour."

"Do you really find comfort in that?" she asked doubtfully. She knew she would be mad with grief if her father or any of her brothers fell in battle, and she did not think that the manner in which it happened would make much difference.

"Yes, really. But of course our grief was great. Our mother sailed west not long after Caras Galadhon was built, our new capital."

"Oh," she said again, becoming very aware of the fact that while her own family was still very much intact, others were not so lucky. "You are making me sad, Orophin."

"You don't have to be sad. It was her choice, and the three of us managed quite well on our own. I was not of age yet, but I had Haldir to keep an eye on me." He chuckled. "He was indefatigable in his mission to keep me from doing stupid things."

"Who is Haldir?"

"My other brother." He turned slightly to look at her. "You may not realize it, but you have already met him. I believe the two of you had an encounter at the city stables yesterday?"

She stiffened in the saddle at this revelation. "Is he your brother?"

"Yes indeed. Or so our parents have always told us." He smiled. "Is it not obvious that we are related? He is almost as good-looking as I am."

She looked at him oddly, but seeing his cheeky, good-humored grin she could not suppress a smile of her own. "I did notice the resemblance, but I simply drew the conclusion that all Geledhil must look similar," she confessed. "I did not suspect a blood bond between you and him."

"You thought we all looked alike?"

His affronted expression made her shrink ever so slightly, and she quickly explained, "I meant no insult. In fact, I think you are all very, er, handsome. In your, er, own unique ways, of course." She blushed and shut her mouth lest she embarrass herself further. Good grief, what nonsense she was spewing!

He was laughing again. "Ah, already you have found my weak spot," he said teasingly. "One compliment from a charming elleth and Orophin is defenseless."

That made her blush even harder. "So... you have two brothers?" she asked, hoping to direct the conversation back to safer waters.

"Aye, it's just the three of us. We have no sisters."

"And you are the youngest?"

"Yes. Haldir is the oldest and Rúmil sits comfortably in the middle."

"Are you much alike? In character, I mean?"

"In certain ways, we are alike. In others, we are not." Orophin paused, apparently pondering the question. "Let me illustrate with an example. Imagine that the three of us find a pie somewhere."

"A pie?" she echoed, lifting an eyebrow.

"I admit it's a rather silly metaphor, but it will serve the purpose. Now, Rúmil will nestle down next to the pie and write a song or poem describing its beauty, its delicate structure and the rich colours of the fruit on top. Haldir, however, will want to find the rightful owners of the pie and return it to them as quickly as possible."

"And... you?"

"I am the one snatching it away from under their noses and cramming it into my mouth before he can do so." He chuckled. "Does that tell you enough?"

A snort of laughter escaped her. "Well, it tells me that you have a sweet tooth, Orophin."

"That is true enough," Orophin said with a grin. "But what I meant to demonstrate is that Rúmil is a thinker and a poet, the most romantic of us three. Haldir is the responsible one, the voice of reason. And I am the most instinctive."

"The voice of reason?" she repeated. "Haldir?" That description did not quite fit her memory of the brash elf she had met the day before.

"Yes, rational and conscientious, that's Haldir." Orophin looked at her, smirking ever so slightly. "He flirted with you, didn't he? You have my sympathies. But, if it makes you feel any better, he doesn't do that with just any female."

"No?" she said dryly. "Then what did I do to be so lucky?"

He chuckled again. "You don't like him very much, do you?"

"Oh, I don't know," she said evasively. "You are his brother, and I only spoke with him briefly, so I am not really in a position to pass judgment. But he had a rather arrogant attitude that rubbed me the wrong way."

"Ah, that sounds like my brother, indeed. No, humility is not his forte; but I should tell you that I am probably just as arrogant." He grinned. "I just hide it better than our proud Marchwarden."

"Marchwarden?" She vaguely remembered hearing the word before but couldn't quite place it. "What does that mean?"

"It means," Orophin said, sighing, "that when we are out in the field, I along with everyone else have to call my own brother 'captain'."

"Really?" A Marchwarden had to be some type of officer, then; the one who commanded the other wardens in battle.

"Well, I have no doubt that he would enjoy it," Orophin said with a wink, "but I say it only to mock him."

"Oh." She laughed. "How wicked of you!"

"Wicked? No, not at all. Personally, I think it is for his own good," Orohin said cheerfully. "But in all seriousness... don't worry about him. I know my brother. As soon as he realizes that the interest isn't mutual, he will stop bothering you." He grinned. "Remember, Haldir can step away from a pie that isn't his, and keep his hands behind his back."

Filanna was silent. Well, of course he could; doubtlessly the females were lining up for an opportunity to satisfy Haldir's appetite. His good looks went a long way to accomplish that, as did his prestigious rank and his obvious talent for smooth talking. Why would he waste time trying to win a grain of her attention if he could fill his bed with others just by snapping his fingers?

Orophin and Haldir, brothers. Not for a second had she considered that possibility. In hindsight, yes, the two clearly resembled each other, outwardly at least, but she found Orophin much more likable and well-mannered. She was glad that he was riding beside her, and not Haldir.

"And you?" Orophin asked. "How many siblings do you have?"

"I am the youngest of seven," she replied. "I have three brothers and three sisters. My sisters have visited Lórien in the past; perhaps you remember them."

"I do, now that you mention it. But you do not remind me of them, I must say."

"No, I am the odd chick in the nest," she admitted with a half smile. "They are graceful and feminine and I am neither. They often say that I should have been born a male; I have always been closer to my brothers, and enjoyed things like climbing trees, building huts and so forth. I have a brother, Legolas, who is not much older than I am, and we often played together as children."

"And which one of your brothers is the Orophin of the family?" Orophin asked, his eyes glinting mischievously. "Who would eat the pie?"

She smiled as she thought about it. "They all would, I'm afraid, but you remind me the most of Darwain. He is always in a good mood, just like you."

"That is a dangerous assumption. You have known me for only one day now; tomorrow I could be the most insufferable grumbler you have ever seen."

"I find that hard to believe," she said with a chuckle. "Besides, you make me laugh; and Darwain is particularly good at that, too." Her voice faltered a bit at the end. The praise was sincere, but she did not wish to embarrass him.

He bowed his head slightly, acknowledging the compliment and apparently pleased with it. For a while neither spoke, and Filanna took a moment to study the surroundings more attentively. It was a truly beautiful morning, clear and sunny, and it promised to be a lovely early spring day. Here, outside the city, mellyrn shared the soil with more common trees like oak, chestnut and birch. They were different from the trees she knew in Mirkwood, though; healthier and stronger. No giant spiders lurked in their canopies, no shadow had crept beneath their bark. They breathed freely. She heard birds that had left Mirkwood long ago – cuckoo, woodpecker, magpie – and when she spotted a squirrel she was surprised to see that its fur was red, instead of black.

These woods felt strangely... alive, compared to Mirkwood. It was a revelation for her, and not a very pleasant one. She knew Mirkwood had once been like this, in the time that it had still been called Greenwood, but that was in a distant past. Her parents had lived long enough to remember that time, as had Rínion and Darwain, but she had never known her homeland other than as a dark, dangerous, spider-infested place. No person in their right mind ventured into Mirkwood if it wasn't absolutely necessary.

"So, I have to ask: what it is it like being a princess?" Orophin said, interrupting her rather gloomy thoughts.

"Why? Would you like to be one?" The counterquestion slipped out before she could keep herself in check, and she blushed yet again. This was how she usually spoke to her brothers, not to some stranger she had met only the day before.

He grinned. "Actually, I would consider trading with you if it were possible. You would make quite an impression as a warden of the border, I am sure, and I would get the lazy life of luxury. Or is that a misconception?"

She shrugged. "I suppose not. It is a very uneventful life. I would even describe it as boring most of the time. There is nothing romantic or enviable about it, as far as I am concerned."

"Is there a strict protocol to follow?" he asked. "I have heard that in some monarchies, royals aren't allowed to choose their own spouses. Is it true?"

"It is partially true," she replied. "There was a law once that allowed the sitting King and Queen to arrange a marriage for the heir to the throne, but it fell into disuse and my father got rid of it completely. He says the whole concept is ridiculous, and hopelessly out of fashion." She smiled. "Of course, one could argue that he had personal reasons for abolishing the law."

"How so?"

"Well, my parents had to keep their love secret for quite a while. My father was the King's only son and my mother wasn't even nobility, which was still an issue at that time. My grandfather was a conservative monarch, and they knew he would make objections if he found out about it, so they kept their attachment private for several years."

"And how was the issue resolved?"

"Ada eventually confessed the truth and announced that he would marry my mother, whether Oropher gave his blessing or not. And he did. It took a while, but in the end Grandfather came around, especially after Rínion was born."

"This all happened before the war, then?" Orophin asked. "Your grandfather fell at Dagorlad, did he not?"

"Yes," she said, "as did many of our people. Rínion is the only grandchild King Oropher ever saw in life. But he doesn't remember much; he was still a child when our grandfather went to war in Mordor, never to return."

The conversation between Orophin and Filanna continued to evolve from there, flowing naturally from one topic to the next, and Filanna wasn't even aware of the passing of time until they reached Cerin Amroth, shortly after noon. It was a site so beautiful that Filanna was rendered speechless for a few moments: a wide open space with a great mound at its edge, all covered by a soft carpet of spring-green grass dappled with elanor and niphredil. Upon the mound were two rings of trees; white trees, somewhat similar to birches, formed the outer ring, while in the center mellyrn stood proud and tall, their canopies bearing the yellow blossoms of spring.

"Oh, Orophin, it is lovely!" she enthused, dismounting. "Are those the mellyrn that bore the first telain?"

"Yes," replied Orophin, who slid out of the saddle as well. "In fact, there is still one talan up there, high in the branches of the tallest mallorn in the center. It offers a spectacular view in all the wind's directions. Would you like to see it?"

"Oh, yes!"

"Then let us climb. The horses can walk free here in the meantime."

He started walking up the hill, but stopped and turned around when he realized that she wasn't following. "Is something wrong?"

"I do not want him to eat the flowers," she said sheepishly, still holding Mithrenfin by the rein.

He smiled. "Don't worry, Filanna. Horses do not eat the elanor and niphredil of Cerin Amroth."

"They don't?"

"No. Trust me, these lovely flowers are quite safe." He smiled again and continued to ascend. "Are you coming?"

After a long climb, Orophin and Filanna reached the flet from that offered a panoramic view of the surrounding lands. To the west lay the snow-topped peaks of the Misty Mountains, to the south a great green forest which she knew to be Fangorn- an ancient forest that was rumored to be inhabited by mythical creatures.

"Have you ever been to Fangorn?" she asked him.

"No," Orophin replied. "But if you want to hear about it, ask Haldir. He has travelled more and farther than Rúmil and I ever have, and he has seen Fangorn at least once." He pointed towards the east. "And there lies of course Southern Mirkwood."

"Where Dol Guldur, the dark fortress stands." She nodded. "It has been an evil place from the day Sauron founded it. Even now that he has left it, evil is drawn to it. We do not venture into that part of the forest anymore." She sighed and turned her gaze away from the distant vastness that was Mirkwood. It was true that she had lived a relatively sheltered life, but she was no ignorant; she knew very well what was happening in the world outside the palace walls, and it both worried and angered her. The Wood-elves had already been forced to retreat to the northeastern part of the forest; if the evil forces kept growing, would they one day have to leave Mirkwood altogether? It was not unthinkable... And what would happen then?

"Well, do you reckon this is a good site for a little picnic?" Orophin said. "I can smell the cake all the way up here."

She giggled. "Orophin, does conversation with you always revolve around food?"

"I admit it's another weakness of mine," he said with a grin. "Eating is a hobby."

"I'm surprised you have managed to stay so trim, then."

"A warden of the border does not get the opportunity to become overweight," he said with a sigh, and he gestured at the rope ladder hanging down from the flet. "Shall we?"

xxx

After a picnic at Cerin Amroth, Orophin took Filanna to see a few other places of beauty in the eastern part of the Naith. The afternoon went by quickly and pleasantly, and Filanna was in the best of moods when at length they returned to Caras Galadhon in the waning light of day. If she had known how easy he was to talk to, she wouldn't have been so nervous in the first place. And although she didn't dare ask him, she fervently hoped that he had enjoyed himself also.

"Thank you very much, Orophin," she told him shyly before they parted ways. "You have been a wonderful guide."

"It was my pleasure," was his reply.

At dinner that evening she told her father and Rínion about her day, growing more and more enthusiastic in the telling, and very aware that Celeborn and Galadriel were listening with great interest. Galadriel especially seemed pleased for some reason.

"So you had a Galadhric escort, eh?" Rínion said with a wink. "Good for you, little sister. I hope he behaved like a gentleman, though."

Filanna glowered at him. Curse older brothers and their suggestive jokes! "Of course he did. He is respectable and kind."

"I concur," Galadriel said reassuringly. "Filanna was in good company today. You have my word for it."

Filanna left the table early, for she wanted to take advantage of the last hour of daylight and shoot a few arrows before night fell. She enjoyed the sport and practised every day; she saw no reason to change that routine now that she was away from home.

When she arrived at the range with her archery equipment, though, she found it was occupied by at least a dozen elves, all of them Geledhil and all of them male. And one of them was Haldir. She groaned inwardly when she recognized him; just her kind of luck! What was worse, he saw her before she could decide what to do; and to her astonishment, he lowered his bow and came in her direction. He simply left his spot in spite of the fact that several archers were standing at the sidelines, waiting for one of the targets to become available; and none of them seemed even inclined to step in and take his place. But then, surely Lothlórien's Marchwarden could step out for a cup of tea and still no one would have the audacity to use his target without his permission.

She stood as if rooted to the spot, waiting in apprehension for him to reach her. What did he want from her?

"Good evening," he said once he stood in front of her, and he bowed slightly.

"The same to you," she said, keeping her expression blank.

He wasted no time on empty pleasantries. "I wish to apologize for yesterday. I do realize now that it was not correct of me to ask for your name without offering you mine. Therefore, I would ask for your forgiveness as well as for an opportunity to introduce myself properly, as I should have done yesterday."

She was stupefied. Was that all he was going to apologize for? It was the very least thing that had bothered her!

"An apology is not necessary," she said coolly. "And it so happens that I already know your name, Marchwarden."

Valar, what was it about this elf that irked her so? Even now, although he was polite and kept his eyes on hers instead of letting them wander all over her body, she felt an antipathy towards him she could not quite explain. Orophin was obviously fond of his eldest brother, so she felt she should give him a chance at least, but his presence did nothing to make her feel comfortable. There was a powerful masculine quality to his personality, intruding her senses like a heady perfume. It was intimidating, overpowering almost.

"I see. And I know yours," he said, seemingly unfazed by her curtness. "I suppose that negates the need for introductions, then." He glanced at the arrows behind her back. "You came to practise?"

"I did, but since I seem to have chosen a bad time, I think I will leave."

"That won't be necessary," he said. "You can share my target."

Filanna blinked, distrusting her own ears. "Excuse me?"

"You can share my target," he repeated. "Come, we will take turns."

Filanna was speechless. She could not believe he was actually talking to her in this authoritative manner, as if she were one of his wardens. Was he expecting her to fall at his feet in gratitude? She did not need his charity!

"I cannot possibly," she blurted out. "Others have been waiting longer… it isn't my turn yet."

"Don't worry about the others," he said. "I'm offering you a chance to practise. Do you accept or not?"

She opened and closed her mouth like a fish on dry land, her mind working feverishly to form an intelligent response. She would have to refuse, that much was certain.

"I am surprised." He smiled. "You did not strike me as the type to back down from a challenge. Have you no confidence in your skills?"

At that, her mouth fell open again. The nerve of that elf!

"How dare you!" She straightened herself to her full height and glared at him, unconsciously balling her hands. "I am an elf of Mirkwood, no less skilled or trained than any archer here, and I am not afraid to prove it." She looked him straight in the eye, trying hard not to show how much she surprised herself with her own proud declaration.

"Indeed?" He lifted an eyebrow, looking mildly amused. "Now my curiosity is roused, daughter of Thranduil. I insist that you share my target with me and show us how a princess of Mirkwood shoots."

"I accept," she said between gritted teeth, squaring her shoulders. "Your bow against mine, Marchwarden."

He stepped aside with a theatrical sweep of his arm. "Ladies first."

But even as she stepped onto the shooting range Filanna felt her courage seeping away from her. Her pride was a weak spot, and Haldir had cleverly used it against her. But there was no turning back; several Geledhil had heard their conversation and were waiting to see what would happen next. She felt their eyes tracking her. She would have to prove that she was indeed a skilled archer, or fail and undergo public humiliation. The prospect was rather daunting, especially since she had never performed in front of such a crowd before.

"I can move the target closer, if you wish," he said once they reached the shooting line.

"The distance is just fine," she replied, meeting his eyes with a challenging look of her own.

"Very well. Give me a moment to collect my arrows before we begin." He went to the target to retrieve the arrows he had fired earlier and returned with a full quiver, indicating that she could take the first shot.

Well aware of the fact that he was watching her every move, Filanna pulled an arrow from her quiver and nocked it carefully, taking a moment to concentrate. She then raised the bow and pulled back the string, found her aim and released. The arrow sped away, crossing the distance in a steady course and imbedding itself powerfully in the innermost circle of the target. There were a few approving murmurs from the spectators, and she felt strangely satisfied as she stepped aside to give Haldir space.

Haldir said nothing as he took position and readied his bow for the shot. She used the opportunity to study him with a critical eye, but failed to detect even the tiniest flaw in his technique. His movements were fluent and efficient, and his long elegant fingers gripped the feathered end of the arrow confidently, drawing it to his anchor point and making the solid wood of his bow bend as if it were a mere reed in the breeze. He had an impeccable stance. Release and follow-through were also perfect. She was not surprised to see his arrow drill itself into the red central area of the target, close to her own.

He lowered his bow and glanced at her. "Your turn again."

She lowered her eyes, realizing that she had been staring at him openly. Now that she knew what to look for, the resemblance to Orophin was indeed obvious. Haldir was as tall and broad-chested as his youngest brother if not more so, they had the same chins and similar noses. He is almost as good-looking as I am, Orophin had quipped, but Filanna had to grudgingly admit that it was in fact the other way around. Haldir was by far the most attractive of all three brothers, and for some reason, this annoyed her greatly.

For a while they took turns shooting until their quivers were empty, each arrow finding its way to either the red circle in the middle of the target or the ring directly around it. The white feathers marked Haldir's hits, the green ones were Filanna's. White dominated slightly in and near the center, but it was a marginal victory for the Marchwarden.

"Good start," Haldir said mildly. He leaned casually on his bow, one hand planted on his hip. "Would you like to try a longer range?"

She lifted her chin, acknowledging the challenge. "Yes, I would. A hundred feet extra?"

"As you wish. Would you be so kind as to hold this while I go and take care of it?" Without waiting for a response, he pressed his bow into her hands and made for the target to move it further away and pull out the arrows.

Filanna was on cloud nine, holding Haldir's bow with a feeling that bordered on reverence. Oh dear, it was even more gorgeous up close! She let her fingers trace the beautiful carvings, a credit to the craftsmanship of the Galadhrim. From tip to tip it was practically as tall as she was and it felt heavy when she lifted it with both hands. Oh, if only she had the strength to wield such a powerful weapon!

She was still admiring the bow when Haldir returned with her arrows and she had to hand it back to him, doing so with reluctance. Another round began. This time Haldir was clearly at an advantage, for his arrows travelled the extended distance to the target with more speed and in a steadier course than Filanna's, but as before she did not miss the target once. By the time they had emptied their quivers for the second time, there was again quite a lot of green to be found near the center.

"Very impressive," Haldir said calmly. "You shoot like a true warrior of Mirkwood. Many of my wardens would not perform so consistently."

He seemed sincere, and Filanna smiled in delight. Her personal opinion of this elf regardless, such a compliment from the Marchwarden was meaningful and flattering. She had not expected to beat him, but she was pleased with her performance. She had certainly not lost face tonight.

"You can continue practising here, if you wish," he said. "I am calling it a day."

"So am I. It is getting too dark anyway."

This time she accompanied him to the target, and they both gathered their arrows. No words were spoken until they had both finished and were ready to go.

"Shall I walk you home?" he asked.

A little warning bell jingled in Filanna's head at that. The shooting competition had kept her well occupied and entertained, but his offer caused her suspicions to instantly resurface. She knew next to nothing about him, and the fact that he was a more than decent archer did not mean that she could trust him, even if he was Orophin's brother.

"There is no need," she replied. "I know the way to my talan."

"All the better," he said with a smile, "for I do not."

"Are you mocking me?" She folded her arms in front of her chest, looking at him with a frown. "I do not need an escort."

"I am not offering an escort. I am offering company. Can I persuade you to take an evening walk with me?" He smiled subtly. "An innocent little stroll, in public. Very safe."

"No, thank you. I am quite tired and wish to retire. But," she sighed, "if you must, I suppose you can accompany me to my talan."

"You are too kind," he said with a slight, mocking bow.

They walked most of the way in silence. Filanna felt awkward the whole time, but she knew that the lack of communication could not be blamed on Haldir, who attempted several times to engage her in conversation. It was her concise responses that nipped each of these attempts at dialogue in the bud.

She was fully aware that she was not being very kind. In fact, compared to the Filanna she had been with Orophin today she found herself chilly and not likable at all. He did not deserve this treatment. But she simply knew of no other way to make it clear that she was not interested in whatever he was offering. She couldn't possibly say the words in his face; she would die with embarrassment! Keeping him at an arm's length and hoping that he would get the hint seemed like the best way to go.

"We're here," she said once they arrived at her guest talan. "Thank you for tonight. I, er... I have enjoyed myself." There, that was kindness enough; and it wasn't even a lie. She had had a good time shooting, and his company had been more bearable than she would have expected.

"Likewise," he said, looking down at her with those dark, enigmatic eyes. Again, his closeness intimidated her and made her feel uncomfortable. She could not quite comprehend what this elf wanted with her. And why. He doesn't flirt with just any female, Orophin had said. What did that mean? Did this count as flirting, his standing so close and looking at her as if he could kiss her any moment? And if it did, why was he doing it with her? Oh, she wished he would just turn around and leave!

Last night, she had seen him leave the party scene together with a pretty elleth in a stunning dress. He had led her with an arm around her waist and it didn't take a genius to figure out what had transpired after that. The thought alone, with him standing so close to her right now, made her blush and fidget. He, however, looked completely at ease and confident.

She was not interested in this elf! But even if she had been, she wouldn't think of joining his doubtlessly long list of conquests. Not a chance!

"Do not look so scared," he finally said, still with that little smile. "I am not asking you to invite me inside."

"Then... what are you doing?" she asked, praying that her voice would not betray how nervous he made her.

"Testing the water," he replied. His piercing eyes did not leave hers even for a second and seemed to study her. "But I find it rather chilly. I wonder if there is any chance it will warm up to me."

"I..." She began to stammer. Her heart thudded almost deafeningly, and she was sure that her face was looking bright red by now. "I– I think you are wasting your time. Please go. I am sure you will have more success elsewhere."

Instinctively, she clapped a hand over her mouth, but she had already blurted it out. Oh Varda, she had not meant to say that! One of his dark, arched eyebrows rose slightly.

"Oh, are you?" he asked in a peculiar tone.

She blushed even harder, inwardly cursing her own big mouth. "Yes, I am. Will you please just go now?" She could not look at him, staring at the toes of her boots instead. "Please, Haldir."

For a few long, dreadful seconds, nothing happened. Then, at last, he took a step back. "If you wish me to take my leave, then take my leave I shall," he said. "Sleep well."

She peeked up at him, wondering if she had offended him, but there was no anger in his eyes. Nor was there warmth. He wore a calm, perfectly blank expression.

"Good night, Filanna," he said courteously, and he turned and walked away before she could say anything in return. It was the first time he said her name, and it suddenly occurred to her that he had never addressed her with her title, either- not even once. He had just skipped that phase entirely.

She stared after him for a few moments, then turned abruptly and walked to the door, trying to do so in a dignified fashion but aware of every step she took. She did not look back at him, and once the door was shut behind her she leaned against it, feeling tired and a bit shaky all of a sudden. She couldn't quite grasp what had happened just now. Had she interpreted Haldir's words correctly? Would he really have bedded her if she had given him the chance? The idea was greatly unsettling. Oh, how was she going to react the next time they met? How could she even look him in the eye after this? Oh dear! She felt so green and inexperienced right now. The more she thought about it, the more she became convinced that she had handled the matter in the worst possible way.

It was an unsatisfying and disconcerting ending to an otherwise perfect day.

xxx

A/N: I am aware that I have strayed from canon with regard to the concept of elvish marriage. Arranged marriages, a topic briefly touched upon in this chapter, would probably not have occurred at any given time in the elven culture as described by Tolkien.

'Naneth' = mother (S)
the Naith = the part of Lórien between Celebrant and Anduin
anchor point = an archery term. It's the place you draw back to for the release of the arrow, usually the cheek or a corner of the mouth.