Single Handedly

by iluvobiwan91

An elleth of Doriath is violently wounded and taken in by the sons of Feanor, risking confrontation between the Sindarin King Thingol and the "kin-slaying" Noldor should her kin find out. Though peace-seeking Maedhros tries to return the elf maiden, he finds that between her unwillingness to leave and his own draw to her, he cannot let her go. Maedhros/OFC

11. Out of Night Has Come the Day

Title: Single Handedly

Genre: Romance, Angst

Rating: PG-13

Characters: Maedhros/OFC

Time: First Age 346 – Fourth Age

Chapter(s): 11/?

Chapter Summary: This moment was to be cherished: her hand resting against his steadily beating heart, his arms still strong around her even in his slumped posture, the look of a tranquil man upon his chiseled face.

Author: Codi Lyn (a.k.a. i_luv_obiwan91)

Disclaimer: J.R.R. Tolkien and his family are the sole owners of his works including the Silmarillion and his Lord of the Rings series. I'm just inspired by his works and thought of different ways for different things to end as another option. It's his music; I'm just playing it on a ukulele, not a guitar. -_-

Chapter Eleven – Out of Night Has Come the Day

Maedhros had seen her beautiful visage on the wall as he rode away that morning, even heard her voice on the wind that raced after him, though her words were indistinguishable. Yet he kept on, weaving through dense woods that led him northeast. The rain diverted his anger to old scars that screamed at him beneath his armor.

It couldn't make him forget the night before, nor his frustrations. He had determined he would go as soon as light hit his eyes the next day, Kalin's questioning his strength had so perturbed him. 'How can she challenge my own ability? I would pass through flame to protect her!' He raged within himself, now pushing Rúnyadal harder so that he might reach his March as fast as possible.

At last, with the end of the day approaching, Maedhros found the markings leading to his men, invisible to those who knew not what to look for. Calanon greeted him and gave his report on what was to be found with the yrch tracks. "They took great care to cover their trail, and the rain has not helped. This morning we found fresh tracks going southwest for a couple of miles before they got wise and kept to the rocks. We counted something on seven sets of prints."

Handing Rúnya off to another with a nod, Maedhros asked his officer further. "Did you find any tracks leading north or east?"

He shook his head and ran a hand through his wet slicked hair. "I searched everywhere, but the fact is I have no assurances none escaped. Everything around the attack area was washed out from the storm, there wasn't a trace of slot to be found." Displeased, though not with his man, Maedhros dismissed him with a command that he continue searching with a rout before all their light ran out for the day.

The Noldorin prince walked about his huddled soldiers distractedly, thinking and recalculating his guards and defenses. How fast could they ride from here to Himring? How many men could he spare from the fortress to keep the March active? Were the walls deep enough, tall enough? Where was it likely the enemy would attack next? If necessary, what route could they take for retreat? These questions may have seemed premature, as any battle was certainly not to happen so soon, but Maedhros knew that he should have considered more of these questions long ago when Himring was first built.

Only the truth was, he could hardly have done better. The stronghold was built high upon a hill, where those upon the wall could easily see for miles were there to be any great attack. The incline combined with the height of the barricades made breaching them extremely difficult, if not impregnable. Dozens of hidden stores lay beneath the inner keep, filled with food and additional armories. Yet only a thick stone door through the western wall remained as their escape, if such an escape were required. Maedhros feared that if ever that became necessary, the Hill would already on all sides be encroached.

He came to his bivouac and sat with his head back against a tall fir, finding some comfort in the life it emanated through its stock. The rain grieved Maedhros' wounds, old and new, and, with a sigh of resignation, he was certain Ulmo would not let up his onslaught any time soon. Thoughts of Kalin's perfect blue eyes warmed him through soaked clothing, and he found himself closing his eyes to better see her. "Kalin…" His whisper involuntarily spoke her name and the pain in his right arm subsided greatly, adding to his peace.

Yet just as his eyes shut, a vision appeared to him of a large tree surrounded at the base in fire. The tendrils floated up with deceiving grace to catch the branches and new leaves, wilting the plant and causing a pillar of smoke to rise from the tree's pain. Something moved near the top, a figure, and immediately fear gripped him for he knew that it could be no enemy. He could not understand how this person could be so silent, and every time he attempted to call out, his voice was muted. The figure stayed fidgeting high in the upper boughs for an unbearable amount of time before a scream, both of pain and despair, rung out through his mind. In horror, he awoke.

Maedhros panted in shock and clutched his sword hilt with white knuckles. 'That was Kalin's scream… it could be no other's.' His mind raced, sending beads of sweat to fall from his troubled brow and mingle with rain still falling from an early morning sky. Reaching blindly for the tree behind him, the elf pulled himself back against it and desperately sought its comfort, trying to take deep breaths. "No. She cannot die." He calmed himself enough at last to deny it. "The vision is false. It won't happen, just as the other hasn't happened. They are the plagues of Morgoth." Shaking the thoughts of her from his head, Maedhros grasped his right arm and winced at the familiar throbbing where his hand had long ago been attached.

"My lord, Maedhros." A soldier called him away, and quickly he resolved not to think of the fair elleth he had left behind in Himring.

Taurvantian jumped and played tug-of-war with the elfling children as Mîrluiniel watched on from her seat near the sparring field. A ghost of a smile graced her pale face at the sight, but no more than that.

Remethiel, beaming with the joy of her pregnancy, approached her with a basket of dried cherries and offered her some with a smile that soon faded when her friend declined the fruit. "Kalin, are you well? Your cheeks have lost all color."

The maiden sighed and lifted her shoulders in a shrug. "He's been gone a month as of two days, Remethiel. I don't think he wants to come back while I am yet here."

The mother set aside her basket and sat next to her forlorn companion with a hand on her arm. "Nonsense, lass. If I know aught about Maedhros, it's that he is not one to rush into anything. He will come, and you will talk, and this will all be behind you." Her attempts to cheer Kalin did little in that regard and she remained silent as the children came to eat the cherries their mother had brought for them.

Once they had gone to play and Vant came to stand by his ward, Kalin rose with Remethiel and told her. "I'm going for a walk. Taurvantian and I will go to see about exploring beyond the north wall."

She began to walk off with her loyal hound when the expectant mother called out to her. "Kalin, have you not seen the sky? The storms are back, and I would not have you both wet and lost!"

"I do not mind the wet! And Vant can lead me home if that's needed." Without allowing another qualm to be voiced, Kalin's feet raced the long-legged canine out of the gate, soon flying down the Hill and out of sight within the trees.

Mîrluiniel ran for some time until her legs began to ache and large droplets of rain caught her shoulders and crown. Her ribs hurt as she tried to catch hr breath, but she refused to stop moving, still walking forward determinedly. It grew dark with threatening clouds overhead and the dark of evening close on their heals. She passed through ravines and spurs of the surrounding hills, paying little heed to where she turned or which hill she chose to skirt around or pass over. At length she looked up to find that the rain had gotten denser and thunder rippled through the air, trembling through the ground. In her depth of thought, she still did not consider it time to turn back.

Kalin began to sing with the thunder as it approached more loudly, nearly shutting out every sense but her song when Taurvantian barked and left her side to go ahead. She stopped singing to follow him, but he turned quickly with a soft bark at her, almost bidding her to stay put as he galloped forward. In a moment she understood. She heard yrch voices coming. Looking about frantically for someplace to hide, for she had no weapon, Mîrluiniel turned and crawled swiftly up a great cypress with close boughs to hide her.

She reached the top as the sound of Vant's stressed barks and growling met with the orcish hollering and arguments. "Kill 'im, ee's makin' a fuss to any'n close." One of them grunted while another replied in the Black Speech, pulling out a bow. Kalin flinched as the arrow made its mark and she heard her precious guard's last whimper. "Ay it smells, agh, smell lik'n elf!"

"There moit be 'n near'bouts." Another began sniffing suspiciously and came to the base of her tree, looking up into the opaque canopy in disgust. They communicated in the Common Tongue and Black Speech intermittently, preventing her from understanding any of it. They began then to tear the dead dog apart, making her weak to the stomach to hear their bone cracking and chewing. Tears of anguish and fear streamed down her face though she dared not make a sound to give away her hiding place.

Maedhros returned to Himring with some trepidation. Could he really apologize for defending his men? Would she apologize? Or did she still believe herself in the right? Would she embrace him warmly, or shrug him off and forsake him?

Yet as he galloped into his keep that night, those thoughts fled his mind as his recovering brother gimped toward him urgently. "Maedhros! Kalin has gone and not returned!" The fear from his dream returned to the eldest son and choked his heart with this one statement. Rúnyadal danced in place, sensing his master's agitation. "She told Remethiel this afternoon that she was going for a walk, and took only your hound with her."

A frown of determination etched itself upon the eldest's chiseled face and he dismounted long enough only to remove the- now cumbrous- saddle from his flame-foot's back. "Did she say anything of her direction?"

"North. But…" Maglor could not finish before his brother turned and bounded off with his high-tailed stallion.

"I won't come back without her!" Maedhros called behind him and the younger nodded woefully. He knew this to be true.

Maedhros galloped north through the dark at a surprising speed for as close as the forest was for maneuverability. Leaning forward to his horse's keen ears, he spoke in his mother tongue beseechingly. "Please find your strength, my Rúnya. I must find her." At his urging, the majestic horse eagerly obeyed and sprinted through the well-known landmarks. With a fortunate streak of light from the dense clouds above, he saw the imprint of Kalin's running feet in the soft earth, accompanied also by Taurvantian's paws not far from them.

Kalin trembled in her disgust. The smell of raw flesh and waste wafted from below up to her nostrils and sickened her. Never had she believed yrch to be so much more repulsive than she'd been told in stories. She wanted nothing more than to be back in Himring.

As the beasts finished their small feast, a few smaller ones began sniffing her tree once more, and with some unknown communication, they drew their bows and shot aimlessly into the close foliage. In terror, Mîrluiniel held fiercely to the trunk and barely breathed in her stillness. The increasing downpour of rain camouflaged dark arrows, and she prayed her flinches were masked by the wind swaying the tree.

"Ya blugs! Stop yer ar wastin'. Burn tha thing out!" An orc ordered indistinctly and they hurried under the thick branches to find dry tinder. Kalin gasped inadvertently when she realized what they were going to do, drawing only one creature's attention who still could not discern where she was located and therefore only laughed something in confirmation to his cohorts. The flames started easily with the dried needles they had found and, to her dismay, she found the fire completely surrounding the girth of the tree.

Her voice muted now against the loud crackling below her, Mîrluiniel apologized for bringing harm to the living tree and prayed that the Valar would grant her strength. Looking everywhere and anywhere for escape, she panicked that the other trees were too far for her to jump to, and if she were to flee she would be seen and shot before any progress could be made. Arrows randomly flew through the greenery and came closer to her as the haphazard aims were directed higher. One grazed the back of her leg, exposing flesh through the tear in her dress.

Smelling her blood, the yrch began hooting and shouting below her, sending Kalin into a panic when she realized they would certainly not cease until she was dead. Climbing to the opposite side of the trunk, she clung to it and dodged many more arrows penetrating the wilting tree's defenses. Smoke strangled her lungs as all clean air left her reach and the heat of stoked flames beneath began to sear her feet and back.

Between tears of dread and tears of fume, she could not see, but hear, galloping hooves nearing swiftly between thunder and rain pounding into her ears. Lightning bolted dangerously close on a nearby tree and cracked the wood loudly, masking momentarily the clang of swords on the ground now far below her. An orc shriek chilled her to the bone as her feet blistered with the rising blaze. Pain and fear now became an onslaught to her from every direction, too fast for her to register keeping silent any longer. In desperation she screamed to combat the roar of the storm and the deafening fire that surrounded her.

"Kalin!" A masculine voice called to her above the tempest and she cried in thanks to hear it. "I can see you! You must jump, I am ready to catch you!"

Sobbing with eyes shut tightly, Mîrluiniel shook her head. "I can't!" She called back; frightened of the height she had climbed to.

"You can! You must trust me!" His words saved her life as she obeyed and slowly released her grip on the branches and leaned backwards with a nervous cry. She fell long and at last landed in his open arms, causing him to fall back with the momentum, but otherwise unharmed. Lightning angrily struck the old tree and split it in two, the large half dropping some ways from where they laid flat. "We have to get to a safer place!" He told her and helped her up, only to have her collapse against him with a sob of pain. "You're hurt." Maedhros quickly assessed and lifted her into his arms, carrying her at a run as he made their way to a clearing.

She clung to him gratefully and wept in a kind of relief against his shoulder. "It's all right." He murmured to soothe her and pressed his cheek to her brow. "You're safe, I have you. I'm here." Kalin didn't know how he had known she was in danger, or even how he had found her, but at that moment she couldn't care. He rescued her, he had her in his arms, and they were alive.

"Maedhros…" The elleth whimpered weakly but he shushed her gently, knowing full well she was in shock. It was likely she had never seen an orc in her blessedly young life, not until that evening.

He'd found the remains of Taurvantian and guessed rightly that she was close by when that had happened. It was a horrific experience to go through, this night she'd had. "I know… I have you, I'll protect you now." When Kalin opened her eyes they were trudging through a low meadow dispersed with mud from the hard rain. Maedhros soon knelt in the slough to lay them down in a rutted out area.

"Wait, is there nowhere to find shelter?"

Sitting up she protested, but with a shake of his head he carefully pulled her trembling form back down, holding her close in an attempt to ease her quivering. "Lying beneath anything tall, now, would only direct a strike toward us. Here, the lightning will pass over. I promise we are safe." Willing at his words, Kalin burrowed deeper into the mud with him and let the comfort of his presence enfold her.

A loud clap of thunder scared the on-edge maiden and she quickly clung more tightly to the elf, hiding her face in his neck as he held her securely, her cries causing her to shake violently with unleashed tension. "I'm so sorry! I should have stayed where I was…" Between sobs, the current of her withheld emotions began to rush out in a tremor-filled voice.

"No, no I am to blame, Kalin. I should not have left you so suddenly. I was wrong to argue with you." His body tensed as he apologized, irritated with himself for having so rashly dealt with her on what now seemed to be such an insignificant subject. After a few moments of feeling his fingers thread her wet hair, Mîrluiniel realized that he, also, was crying, even as steadfast as he was being. His hold on her was amazingly stronger than hers upon him, and a great part within her rejoiced at this subtle assertion of his feelings. That this impenetrable warrior openly humbled himself in her presence, it was a broken barrier into his heart that she would always treasure.

She lay huddled against him all night, frightening herself awake with every rumble of the storm, but always in Maedhros' arms. Cradling her, he murmured of pleasanter things until the steadiness of his voice and warmth of his embrace contrasted enough against the harsh elements around them so that she was lulled once more to sleep. It was a long, restless cycle for her champion, but vigilantly he kept his watch over the damsel whose protection occupied his every thought.

The worst of the storm passed on a few hours before dawn and Maedhros felt it safe at last to seek refuge more suited to keeping dry. Rising from the soup of mire they had sunken into, he calmly lifted the sleeping elleth to hold against his chest and walked through the sodden field towards a haven of thickly leaved trees ahead. He sat down under a bowed sugar maple and crossed his legs with Kalin curled sweetly in his lap, her head lying unconscious upon his shoulder. With something resembling solace, he allowed himself at last to rest back his own head and, in every way exhausted, quickly found rest in the impromptu position.

Mîrluiniel awoke as the faint light of day slowly seeped through residual clouds, allowing her eyes just enough dawn to see the sleeping and sullied face of the Noldo above her. With his wet hair tousled in mud, she could only see streaks of the natural red color that had been rinsed clear by droplets through the canopy they resided under now. Noticing only then that he had moved them, she was surprised the transition had not woken her up.

Amazingly enough, soaking her blistered and burnt feet in the cool muck all night had served to soothe that sting which had kept her from walking. Kalin for a moment thought to assuage her other injuries now that she could see, but decided against it when her eyes again found Maedhros' quiescent features. This moment was to be cherished: her hand resting against his steadily beating heart, his arms still strong around her even in his slumped posture, the look of a tranquil man upon his chiseled face.

A cool draft leftover from the night's storm blew through her wet clothes and Kalin could not repress the chill that shivered through her, unintentionally waking up the soaked elf above her. His weary eyes opened and surveyed the perimeter around them instinctively before those clouded emeralds settled on her sweet, slough-smeared face. His striking smile made her heart flutter to be the recipient, and she smiled softly in return, carefully brushing her palm against his brow and temple where some of the dirt gave way to the action. A deep chuckle resonated through his chest and broadened their smiles as he brought a hand to her face, also, gently wiping the mess off her chin and just above her gem-like eyes.

Mîrluiniel closed her eyes to allow him easier access, not expecting him to take advantage of such a state by kissing each fluttering lid affectionately. Her breath caught as he nuzzled her cheek endearingly and then pulled back enough to focus their gazes upon one another. His hand stayed near her ear and jaw, fingers just barely teasing the sensitive lobe as her hand gripped the collar of his doublet. Maedhros glanced quickly at her rosy lips and slowly lowered to touch them with his own, encouraged as she opened them to grant his tentative admission. Her hand slid into his hair and pulled him closer into the kiss, deepening their first taste of each other.

Once they parted there was a beautiful silence encompassing them, only the drizzle of rain interrupting the beauty of their moment. Maedhros marveled at her; the yielding mouth that had met his so pleasurably, her crystal-blue eyes that glistened in admiration, her lithe figure that fit perfectly against him both last night and this moment. He had never experienced such ardent regard for any creature before her. The fog of their combined breath flushed their cheeks further in the cool morning air, adding a delightful color to the complexion they each studied intently upon the other.

After some time, Mîrluiniel seemed to remember herself and blushed, averting her eyes for only a moment before they returned to him. "What do we do now?" She asked softly with a ready smile and he realized that this was her first kiss. But then, was it not his, also?

He grinned and touched her neck chastely, finding a smudge of soot that would not wipe off. "If I knew the realm to which you belonged, I would seek your family's permission to court you…"

Shaking her head, though with a peaceful expression, Kalin refused to give way. "I don't want to go back there. Not when I'm here with you."

He sighed in resignation, but at the same time could not be disheartened, for he knew she would not deny his request of courtship. Maedhros tilted his head and adopted a more serious air, pleasantly surprising her with the ardor in his piercing green eyes. "Kalin… my lady, would you do me the honor of receiving me with the intention of courtship?" Mîrluiniel basked in the glow of that instant; conscious to the fact that this was the most significant point they had reached together.

Her smile graced him in all her happiness and she nodded, twirling a piece of hair at the nape of his neck. "I would." He laughed briefly for the joy swelling within him and pulled her closer to kiss eagerly, drinking up the light that emanated from her purer spirit. Suddenly all the obstacles he had placed between them no longer mattered, because they did not matter to her. She overlooked every fault, empathized with his scars for she tasted his pain. In all sincerity at that moment, holding her, not one of his wounds gave him any of the discomfort that regularly plagued him.

He cradled her lovingly in his grasp, grateful for this balm he had been blessed with at last, after so many years of pain. "Is there anything I can do to aid your hurts? Surely you are not unscathed from such an ordeal as last night…"

Calmly, she responded in the negative, too joyous to regard her minor injuries at that time. "I was little harmed, and they can wait to be treated once we return. They are not urgent." The damp elleth assured him as she pulled his mouth to hers once again in exploration. He kissed her most willingly, but brought his hand down her leg as they did so and met with the open gash on her calf; unfortunately unaided in its healing, as her feet had been helped, by the mud encompassing it.

Her flinch as he came in contact with it betrayed her and he furrowed his brow in concern, breaking their sweet exchange. "I would rather this not wait, Kalin." Her eyes closed and she nodded obediently as he set her against the tree and turned her leg sideways to better see the increasingly infected tear. "I should have wrapped this last night, it's caked with dirt." With a frown at his lack of prevention, he let her go a moment and sat on his heels, pulling his tunic out from his belts and taking off the shirts he wore, exposing pale skin and the multitude of bright and faded scars enhanced by the wet of his flesh.

Mîrluiniel watched him with interest before he put back on the outer doublet and took the thinner shirt to rinse in the rain outside the tree's protection. Returning to her, he knelt at her feet and lifted the leg to rest in his lap, giving him access to gently clean the long cut. "A tree branch did not inflict this." He spoke knowingly and looked up to her with perceptive eyes, continuing to wipe away the slough.

"The yrch, they began shooting their arrows into the tree to find me… I didn't move, I thought they might leave if they thought I wasn't there…"

"For their infinite imperfections, they do have a sense of smell… especially for our kind. They knew you were there." He remarked from far too much experience and touched her ankle with his right arm, comforting her through the memory of last night. "Your choice was well-made. Had you chosen to run…" He closed his eyes momentarily, denying that she could have been killed. "I dare not think what harms could have found you upon the ground."

He felt her grow uncomfortable understood why when she began hesitantly. "Maedhros, surely you know, but I am so sorry about Vant… I should have stayed him and he would not be gone now."

He did not like to see her distressed brow and let go of his jerkin to hold her hand. "It was not your duty to protect Taurvantian. You could not have taken him up the tree with you, his duty was to defend you, and that he did. I am glad he was with you." She squeezed his hand and smiled difficultly in thanks. Seeing her need for a change of topic, Maedhros returned to her leg and held it so that she might see. "Have I cleaned it well enough?" Her healer eyes critiqued the wound and frowned at remnants of grit that remained. Noticing her expression duly, he explained. "If I wash it further, here, I know it will give you more pain."

"Perhaps there is running water nearby? That's the only way I can truly remove the dirt. If there is any of that left, I will indeed have more pain." With a nod, he stood tall above her and faced southeast with a deep breath. His whistle was clear and strong, not harmful, but calling. He stood waiting for a few moments, and soon Kalin smiled when hoof-falls reached her ears. Rúnyadal. The blazing sable stallion tossed his long mane in the wet air as he galloped toward his master and pranced to a stop.

Maedhros turned then back to her and bent down to scoop her up securely. He laid her upon Rúnya with little effort and climbed atop behind her, his right arm holding her waist to him as his left took the reins. Proudly, Kalin held his arm close to her and leaned against him as he trotted the animal smoothly through the rain and woods. Purposefully, he avoided the charred tree and yrch bodies of last night, conscious not to subject her to unwelcome memories again.

Maedhros found he enjoyed the feeling of her presence touching his more and more. She soothed him even when he thought his fëa was calm. Was this happiness? He had not felt it in so long, he could not remember.

"What are you pondering? You've gone quiet." Kalin asked him gently as they passed along under trees and through muddy mosses.

He readjusted his grip around her more comfortably and she was pleased to feel him smile. "I was thinking of you, and your effects on me."

She turned and looked at him, glowing through the dirt that still marred her hair and neck from during the night. "Good effects, I hope?"

He halted Rúnyadal slowly and gazed down at her in admiration. "Only good." His murmur was deep and close as he turned her head up only a little to kiss her lovingly, holding her with a tender embrace. Maedhros adored the flutter of her snowflake lashes as she opened her eyes and smiled serenely. The loud bubbling of a flooded creek interrupted their sweet moment and Rúnya pawed the ground in anticipation of a cool drink. "We can clean up, here. It's a clear freshet, and there should be no clouds in the water." He informed her as the stallion was guided onward and she managed to get one more kiss from him before he straightened and colored slightly.

Mîrluiniel was pleased when he carried her down, to see that the stream was indeed clear and un-sullied, perfect for washing out a wound and cleaning the mire from her skin. Reluctantly, Maedhros let her down to limp unsteadily to the grassy shore and kneel, propping her foot on a smooth rock below the surface. The frigid water stung slightly, but at length numbed her pain, and she tentatively ran her fingers along the shallow gash, coaxing out the grime with a grimace of discomfort.

Maedhros took off his boots and sword-belt not far downstream from her and waded into the middle of the current, a good flood as it was up to his knees. Kalin watched as he again took off his shirt and knelt down in the depth of water to wash the mud from it. With part of it tucked in his arm, he rung the clothing dry and tossed it to the gravel shore beside his boots before bowing his head into the cold stream, exposing his bare back and muscle structure, then whipping up to sling long red hair against his back. The elleth liked the look of him doing such a thing, but also thought it would feel good to do so, herself, as she was already soaked through.

Testing, Mîrluiniel stood in the shallows and tried to walk with burnt feet on river-rock, unsuccessful as the jabbing stones tripped her to fall forward and splash in the current. Maedhros had looked up at that moment and rushed to her side immediately, pulling out a sputtering maiden, laughter in her smile. "Are you all right?" He furrowed his flaming brow in concern, whereas she was closer to mirth.

Nodding, Kalin grasped his strong shoulder for balance and was careful not to put all her weight on her injured soles. With an amused giggle, she answered him and inquired. "I am, thank you. Could you hold my arm for a moment, please? I want to rinse out my hair."

The captain nodded. "I won't let you fall." He assured her with conviction and took her left arm to hold securely as she dipped her head under. It was a moment before she came up with a roll of her head, her soft white-blonde hair pooling over her shoulder and down her back.

Blinking the water from her eyes, she opened them to his mesmerized expression and smiled with a blush, averting her gaze for a few seconds to the rain droplets splashing in the water. When she looked back he was smiling also, that perfectly angular grin that became him so well. "I can go further down stream if you wish to wash your dress…" He stopped when a flash of distress passed over her eyes and he watched her try to quell it.

"Could you stay… please? I don't have to clean this, it is stained already."

He nodded and helped her, at length carrying her, to the shore. "Of course. I would rather not let you out of my sight, in any case." His assurance visibly eased her as he set her onto the green shore, her feet still submerged in the cool freshet. Maedhros retrieved his sword, shirt, and boots from the beach downstream and returned to sit at her side, pulling on the dark leather footwear and wrapped the laces around intricate mithril buttons. "How is your leg?" He asked as his doublet was pulled awkwardly back on and situated. Kalin turned her calf so that he could better view it. It was closely inspected.

"Do you still have your tunic? I would like to wrap it." Obligingly, he took the wet cloth and handed it to her, watching as she rinsed the mud out of it thoroughly and doubled it around her left forearm, wringing it dry in her own way.

"Here, let me help you." He offered and aided her with his left hand to wrap and tie the fabric about her leg, thereby protecting the gash.

"Thank you." She gave him her lovely smile and he returned it without conscious thought. Mîrluiniel considered herself blessed beyond measure to be courted by this gallant elf. Yes, he had faults, but did not everyone? Maedhros had just had many terrible circumstances thrown at him. She could not forgive all of his actions, for those he was not forced to do, but if he was repentant of them, as she believed him to be, she could forgive him. At this point, her only fear was that he could not forgive himself. Looking at him in that moment, however, his eyes peaceful and steady, she had al the hope in Arda for him.

"Kalin…" His deep voice spoke her name tenderly, leaning closer and glancing to her lips. Before he could continue, a noise alerted him to movement across the creek and a dark wariness passed over his eyes as they scanned the trees. Fear gripped the maiden again and she helped him look but to no avail. Turning to her seriously, he murmured with a quiet urgency. "I don't like this. We should leave, now." Anxiously, she nodded and watched him quickly buckle his sword belt before lifting her and whistling Rúnyadal over with a common birdcall.

They walked for a little while to remain silent in case they had not been seen before then, to Mîrluiniel's relief, finally galloping through the forests on their way back to Himring. "What do you think?" She asked him after feeling they had ridden a safe distance off.

He frowned, obviously still considering it, himself. "It could have been a few that broke off of your group of attackers. These signs are not good." He paused and glanced at her troubled expression. "It could also have been a bear coming for a drink, there is a chance it was not yrch." His attempt to console her failed utterly. "There's no need to worry, now, Kalin. We should be back within the walls e'er the sun sets." With a nod, she leaned against him wordlessly and seemed to calm once his arm was pulled closer about her waist.

They were quiet as he cantered them easily home, a steady rhythm marrying between Rúnya's gait and the continuous rain. Kalin fell asleep on his shoulder as they went on, deprived from their restless night during the storm. Even when wet, her snow-blonde hair curled sweetly against her brow and all along the length that lay upon his chest. He remembered the first time he had touched her hair, almost laying on her deathbed, thanks to him. Pressing his lips to her slumbering crown, he swore he would never allow anything within his power to so endanger her life.

At last he saw his proud fort sitting high upon Himring's hill and he slowed Rúnyadal to a calm walk to enjoy the last moments of 'solitude' with Kalin, unconscious though she was. When they entered the keep at last, Maglor rushed limping out to them, closely followed by Remethiel and her husband as Maedhros turned the maiden sideways and held her close to his chest with his dismount. Sleepily, the elleth wrapped her arms around his neck and showed the elves around them that she was indeed alive.

"Is she all right? What happened?" His brother and friends questioned the eldest Fëanorian as they passed through the halls to Kalin's room.

"Remethiel, could you bring some healing supplies for a small wound on her leg and minor burns that need treatment? I thank you." Maedhros calmly requested, being met by an exclamation at the mention of 'burns,' but was quickly obeyed by the elleth with a 'yes, my lord,' as she hurried off to retrieve the materials. Mornefindon asked his lord if there was anything he could do and was politely declined, free to go to his children who waited for news of their 'aunt' Kalin.

Now that Maglor, alone, was left with the rescued and rescuer, the second-born allowed himself to inquire after the different manner in which his brother optimistically conducted himself. "What happened, Maedhros? I've never seen your demeanor so lifted." Gently, the flame-haired elf laid his burden soaking upon her dry bed, only briefly glancing to his brother as Remethiel returned with the appropriate wrappings and another elleth healer to assist.

"My lords, could you please leave us so that we may clean her up and get her dry?" The siblings nodded and removed themselves respectfully, continuing to Maedhros' chambers so that he could also exchange his dripping garments for some warmer ones.

Maglor crossed his arms and persisted. "What is it, my brother?"

He grinned as Maedhros volunteered a smile. "Kalin has granted me permission to court her."

The younger elf laughed joyously for him and grasped the elf in a hug, regardless of any filthy clothing meshing now to his. "I'm proud of you, Maitimo! There could not be in existence a finer woman for your temper." They shared a look of understanding before Maglor laughed again and encouraged his brother to join him. "Come, tell me everything!" Fëanor's second son soon learned all that had happened the night before, and most, but certainly not all, of what had transpired that very morning.

"Our problems with the enemy are increasing, and they give me little ease." Maedhros remarked soberly.

"From what we've tracked and encountered, their numbers have not exceeded twenty."

"Twenties can swiftly turn to hundreds, my brother, as well you and I know."

Grimly, the younger of them nodded, recalling especially the 'treaty' attack only just before Maedhros' capture by Morgoth's servants. A glance to his brother's missing hand pierced his conscience with the memory. A memory he would not have repeated. He volunteered a precautionary idea. "I think we should send for aid. Celegorm and Curufin are well where they are, for now. I do think it is time, perhaps, that Amras and Amrod return to Himring. Being in the east, they may have more knowledge of yrch movements should they have encountered any."

"Last I recall they still had some thirty followers from when they drafted our younger wardens. They may be in Thargelion by now for their gaming hunt." Maedhros added in agreement with his brother's suggestion and nodded decisively, looking to his second in command in unspoken confirmation. "Dispatch riders, Maglor. I will spare two, take your swiftest from the waiting shift for the Marches and send them after our youngest kin." The second eldest rose from his seat formally but gave his brother's square jaw a familiar flick with a wink before departing from the room.

With a sigh mixed between being content and disturbed, Maedhros sank into his chair wearily and rubbed his sleep-deprived eyes before closing them for a blessed moment. A nervously persistent knock on the door interrupted his short-lived nap, however, and he pushed himself from the seat with a beckon for the knocker to enter.

Hesitantly, the thick wood was pushed open from its position, as it was ajar, and Eäryendë barely stepped upon his threshold to convey her message. "My lord, Kalin has awakened and asks if you would come to her." Reacting quickly, Maedhros thanked her and immediately began toward his lady's rooms, causing the healer elleth to smile knowingly as he passed her by. Finishing a hasty braid on his way, he entered the maiden's chambers with a gentle knock and smiled as her entire countenance brightened at the sight of him.

"You left me while I was asleep." She admonished him teasingly, smoothing her hand over the dry linen smock that now clothed her. He sat in the chair at her side, pulling it closer now that he had the insurance of a closed door to guard them. "And I was very unpleasantly awakened by Eäryendë giving me stitches." She murmured with a pout before he leaned in and kissed it from her lips.

"I'm sorry, Kalin. By remaining, I may have trespassed upon our courtship by seeing you… unveiled." He kissed her blushing cheek with a similarly warm smile before turning to her uncovered calf and touching it gently to examine the sutured wound. Maedhros loathed to have allowed another injury to scar her beauty and sent a silent prayer to Elbereth that any scar would not long remain, for the elleth's sake.

Mîrluiniel studied him attentively and wondered at his reaction, deciding to ask him, "Does it bother you, Maedhros?"

He looked to her with some shame and admitted. "It bothers me to see you harmed, and to know that I could have prevented it from being so."

Her hand found his arm and she shook her head. "Maedhros, do not judge your actions by what you have not done. Had you not come when you did, I know for certain I would not have escaped alive. As it is, I am hardly hurt at all. Promise me that you will not blame yourself for it." She beseeched him earnestly and he smiled a little at her desire to free him from guilt.

Taking her hand and squeezing it, he told her. "I will try, dear one, but I cannot promise that to you." He nearly made her forget everything said aside from those sweet words, 'dear one.' It seemed that they reaffirmed everything that had happened between them, she knew she would cherish this day for that.

Kalin admired the exhaustion in his keen emerald eyes, for she knew how little he had slept in order to keep her safe and consoled the night before. "You are weary, will you not sleep?"

He closed his eyes with a smile and pressed her hand to his lips. "I was near to it, my lady, when you summoned me hence."

Her soft laughter and cooing brightened his smile and she slid back to the other side of the bed, pulling the covers over herself and patting the empty furs on his side. "Come, if I am under and you are over the blankets, then no one can fuss. Rest your head by mine." She beckoned to him sweetly and, in partial reluctance, he stood from his chair and laid himself belly-down beside her, his arms folded beneath a head turned to face her. Affectionately, she stroked his burning red hair and unbraided the wet mane to more easily thread her fingers through it. Exhaustion finally claimed them both, Mîrluiniel's hand resting upon the strength of his shoulder with several strands of his straight hair wrapped around her fingers.

When she awoke, her protector had gone, but in her hand was bound a small crimson braid of hair from his nape for her to hold in his absence.