A/N – Due to a personality clash with Celeborn (him and me, that is), this chapter is a little on the short side. Apologies. Also, chapters from this point on may be a little patchy, because I am on a very intensive college course.

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The peace lasted for many years, and Men made their journey into Beleriand, and so it was that Finrod came among them and played to them the harp, and the first meeting of the Firstborn and Secondborn was made. But the Elves were often mistrustful of these new Men, and called them the Usurpers, and the Entari, which is the sickly, for they were strangely fleeting. Some came close to Doriath and there settled, and ever since the first meeting on the borders of that Kingdom have the children of Men been in awe of the children of the Elves.

Artanis did not meet with the mortals, but she spoke often of them with Finrod, and found them interesting if a frail race. She spent the passing years in Doriath, a handmaiden of Melian and friend of the Princess Lùthien. Still she burned to have a Kingdom of her own, but a new maturity warned her that such was not to be for many years, and she took upon herself a different life, neither ruling nor truly ruled, and there were few who still called her a princess.

One who did was Celeborn, himself a Prince and a distant cousin of hers. They treated each other with a strange formality, yet it was somehow known that a deep bond was joining them at the heart.

The hearts of Elves are not like the hearts of Men, for Elves when still young can recognise love, and their hearts will ever belong to one only. They enter only once into wedlock, save Finwë High King of the Noldor only. The concept of infidelity is all but unknown to them, and should one die then the other can fade and pass away from the heartbreak, something that has long captured the imagination of Men. And so Artanis and Celeborn drew closer as time passed, but both remembered well the first time that they had spoken, just the same day that Artanis and her brothers had entered Doriath.

She had been the one to approach him, and what she saw drew from her an uncommon admiration. He was taller than she, with the fine silver hair that marked him as one of the Teleri, his eyes knowing. She went to him to speak of battle, for the way that he had spoken of the Battle Under Stars had made it clear to her that he had been there. To her surprise Celeborn would not speak of it, and equally strange to her was the farsighted gaze which was settled upon her, then his quiet words.

"You have seen battle also."

It had been as they walked together through the halls of Menegroth, and she turned to him in wonder. He paused, as if awaiting a response, but for the first time in many years she found herself without words to offer him in return. With a hasty excuse, she bowed her head to him with true respect and left, only to leave the question that he had implied unanswered for many weeks. Finally she returned to him, the first time since that day that they had chosen to speak at length, and immediately it was he who addressed her on the matter.

"Princess, there is much that you have not told; I can see as such in your eyes. You have seen some great battle or struggle, perhaps been a part of it."

Both fell silent and still for a moment in that same corridor, then finally Artanis found the answer both had sought. "Prince Celeborn, as young as this world is there have yet been many struggles. I have stood before the Valar themselves to ask permission to leave the shores of Valinor – could this be of what you speak?"

"No." One word, uncompromising and fluent, cut through the artful craft of her response. She felt herself stare; he returned her gaze with years beyond his age in his eyes. His hand sought hers, his sword-roughened palm touching against her own. "These hands have seen blood, have they not? A darkness more than the Hastànovariën lies upon the Noldor people."

"Never will I back down before tyranny," she answered softly, finding herself strangely lost to his words. "I am not meant for captivity."

Celeborn's gaze did not waver. "Perhaps you use for too many things the word 'captivity', Princess."

His meaning reached her easily, but it was to her great surprise, for she had not expected him to hold her in any regard so soon after her arrival in the land that he knew well. The one who had praised her most greatly to that time had been Fëanor, and his attention had been for the lustre of her tresses; that was cut short now by her own hand, and she did not recognise her remaining beauty. But she saw in Celeborn's eyes that he looked upon her far differently, and even as she looked at him in wonder he caught her other hand in his and bent his lips to hers.