Author's Note: Thank you WickedGreene13 and GuestSE for your thoughts and reviews, and for those of you following the story. Glad you're enjoying it so far. They say not knowing the gender of your child is the last great adventure so...I don't want to spoil anything! :O) Hope all of your weeks are going well!

There was a knock on the door of Nardur's home, and the man startled out of the sleep he had been having in his chair. That was good, because it was not good to sleep in a chair all evening either. He stumbled up and rubbed his face with one hand, opening the door with the other. Ethring brushed past him into the house, stopping just inside the sitting room and as the front door closed, both men turned to face one another.

"Please," Nardur said a bit nastily, "do come in." Ethring glared at him, but behind that glare was an uncomfortableness that did not come from Nardur.

"Your…contact…has been made at the King's House," he muttered, looking away from Nardur's eyes. "Four times in the last month at least and I am still doing this. Why? We know he is laying with her. The rest is Ilúvatar's, Nardur."

"I do not wait for Ilúvatar's time!" Nardur growled, stepping forward to him. "I know this is a difficult position for you; I know you are uneasy about—"

"I am humiliated by it," Ethring spat. "If the King were to ever find out what I have been doing, I would be hung from the ramparts and stoned!"

"Ethring, our King does not stone people," he replied with worn patience.

"Nardur, there is no way to insure that she will become pregnant." Ethring was getting right down to the point. He really believed this was a fruitless venture and it would not produce results.

"It takes months for a woman to show, Ethring. We will not know if this was fruitless until—"

"Can we not just admit that she is barren? Not even to ourselves?" he said, frustrated. "You said yourself that the Healers told you that it is very possible she will never conceive again. A miscarriage can damage a woman's fertility forever; she will never bear him anything."

"Giving up, Ethring?" he asked, crossing his arms.

"Just on her," he said firmly. "As you said, the Lady Enguina is with child and she has been married only a short number of years. I honor the Evenstar very much, but this is hopeless. Even Elessar should be able to see that he needs a mistress, someone to take her place. The people would not begrudge him the right for an heir."

"Or a new wife altogether."

"I…think that is taking it a bit far," Ethring said. "The Queen is good for our Citadel, for the Reunited Kingdom. And she quite clearly makes the King very happy."

"Yes," Nardur laughed, "what did Gildion call her? An Elvish whore."

Ethring's jaw tightened. "That is slander, Nardur."

"Perhaps he was right."

"She is pure," he insisted. "She does not flaunt herself about and it is clear she would never become an adulteress; she would never betray him. Gildion was wrong."

"Do you think he would ever consciously betray her?" Nardur asked and Ethring sighed.

"I do not know. He loves her so deeply. How have your dropped words been going?"

"Oh…he was fairly enraged the other evening," he said truthfully. "Walked out on me. But I am uncertain he will ever betray her willingly. If what you said about elves is true, perhaps she would die…and he would never jeopardize her life. But I am doing some reading in the great library, and I am close to finding something that I think may…assist us."

"If you like, keep me informed," he replied. "In the meantime, must I still watch?"

"I will let you know when." Ethring bowed his head and turned away. Just as he had his hand upon the door, he heard Nardur's voice behind him. "Ethring, what is the name of the elf that travels with the Lady Enguina?"

He half-turned. "Her name is Erumar of Lórien. She was the wife of Haldir; the mallorn that stands in the garden was planted in his honor. Enguina was his sister. Why?"

Nardur shook his head, but smiled. "Just…thinking."

Erumar had woken early and was out in the garden. She had no idea why she chose this place; her only thought was to escape the four walls of the guesthouse and breathe. Oh, the memory of Haldir had weighed heavily on her last night and she had not slept at all; today was the anniversary of their personal affirmation of their love for one another. Usually, she spent this day alone, hiding in bed beneath the covers and refusing to see the day at all, even acknowledge that it had existed. Enguina did not know what day this was; it had been a personal pledging between the two of them after Aragorn had saved his life from the orcs, when he had promised to her that things would be different between them. No one knew of it but her; it was a day more important than their wedding or any birthday, and Erumar was trying desperately not to let on that something completely mad was going on in her head.

She had looked for solace, hoping to find some peace, but this garden was not helping either. The dawn had brought the beauty of the opening of the morning glories, but it meant nothing to her without the presence of the person beside her that made her feet stick on the ground, made her heart feel a little lighter and brought her out of the darkness. And she had to stay away from that mallorn tree; she had not walked here in years and the last time had been with Thranduil keeping her busy talking instead of thinking. Now, all she could do was think. Oh, god, she should not have come here on her own!

Pain lanced her heart and she held the chest of the tunic she was wearing, her hand clutching it tightly. But what was she to do? Where was she to go? There was no escape from this terrible day, no escape from the dreadful agony she felt that sometimes took her so suddenly. Haldir…Haldir… oh that name that poured ceaselessly from her heart! Why could she not accept that he was gone? Why could she not get some sort of peace in knowing that she was still here, that there was still life to enjoy, that she could enjoy it, had enjoyed it! Why was she so plagued by these feelings of doubt, insecurity, pain, grief, and shame?

Blindly walking, she stumbled into the edge of the wall where the rosebushes were growing. Throwing out her hands prevented her from falling over into them, but they landed among thorns, the little pickers stabbing into her flesh. She winced, but the physical pain gave her a moment's respite from the emotional one. Relief took over, and she pressed harder onto her hands, allowing the thorns to push more deeply into her palms, her fingers, even her wrists as she leaned, gritting her teeth and allowing that physical pain to tear at her.

"Erumar, what are you doing!?"

That was the cry, and if Erumar had any sense, she might have pulled her hands away and tried to apologize; but she could not. Instead, she just kept pushing until Enguina's hands wrapped around her wrists.

"Stop, stop!" she cried, trying to ignore the blood seeping out on the stones. Her stomach flipped over…and over…and her head felt so light. "No more! Stop it now!" She pulled her hands back, yanking on them so that Erumar's came free from the bushes. When she had finally, forcefully, turned her away, Erumar allowed herself to be pulled by her. She did not lift her head at all; this time it was not from being unfocused, but from shame.

"By Elbereth! I do not know what comes over you," Enguina continued, but her voice was now a murmur. "You have to st…"

Her voice faded out as she turned over one of Erumar's hands and saw the thorns, several of them large and deep within her skin. They protruded from her palms and Enguina's breath caught, watching the blood bubbling out of several of the holes. Erumar yanked her hand away from her, but it was already too late. Her knees gave out, far too weak; as the lightheadedness overtook her, the world spun. She thought her head was falling from her shoulders, and she heard someone crying aloud, but she did not know who or to whom; she tried to focus—Erumar needed to get to the Houses of Healing. Trying to lift her head was impossible, but she did try and open her eyes…and caught sight of her own hands, streaks of Erumar's wet blood on them. Her stomach spun, so did her head, and she dropped to her side in the thick grass, needing to lie down immediately. There was yelling and words exchanged, but Enguina did not understand any of it or what was going on. She focused on breathing and not vomiting, her knees and hands still shaking.

And then she felt someone pick her up into their arms, and she cracked her eyes, confused. They immediately caught sight of the blood on Erumar's hands again.

Enguina was out cold before the man who was carrying her made it one step.

The morning had been one of the longest two hour sessions of Aragorn's life, topped only by a few things. This morning though had definitely made the top ten…well, perhaps twenty. He could not think of a time when he had been so bored with every single thing that was spoken at the meeting of the guard. The Captain who had been speaking was one from the garrison at Osgiliath and every word that came out of his mouth sounded as though it was being repeated from the last time Faramir was here. In fact, he had no idea why they had one of these meetings a month; their watches left Gondor well-protected; there was no reason to be there. Thank Heaven he had a moment of peace before he had to go up to the council table in Ecthelion for a brief meeting before lunch and then onward to the fourth level for him today.

Lowering himself to sit on the stone steps before his own throne, he groaned as he stretched his back. I must be getting old…Arwen's body is not in this much pain today…it is only you, Aragorn. He shook his head at his own thoughts, and could not help the little smirk that came to his face. How he had loved loving her so early this morning…being on his back beneath her on their bedroom floor, pressing her against the side of their bed, listening to her moan his name with passion as he touched and kissed her relentlessly…and completely exhausted them both. He swallowed, resting his head in his hands. Control your thoughts, Aragorn. This is not the place to lose yourself in her again. What he needed to do was splash his face with water and regain his self-control, but he was tired, and was not about to attempt to get to his feet.

No, instead, he leaned his head back upon the throne and closed his eyes, one elbow on his right knee, the other leg curled beneath him. There was no doubt in his mind why his back was aching today; and he almost felt guilty, as he had looked at her in the morning light, about the marks he had left behind her ear and the back of her neck, the one on her shoulder that he had not meant to leave so deeply. His fingers had traced them this morning and she had caught his hand before he had turned to go, kissing his fingers before releasing him to the day. He had gently drawn the sheet up over her shoulders and left before he could not tear his eyes away from her pure skin.

Oh, it was so terrible to want your wife, was it not? They could not very well love one another every night…especially not like that, so heated and with her hands and lips driving him mad and—

"Taking a nap are we, Elessar?" He cracked one eye and looked at Noldore, a bit of a smile appearing on his lips. It was a testament to how close he had been to dozing that he had not heard the man enter the throne room. "You look tired."

"Exhausted," he admitted, and though Noldore took a seat beside him, he closed his eye again.

"Are the ladies wearing you out already?" he teased. "They have been here a week complete now; they cannot be that much of a bother."

There it was, his anger simmering just beneath the surface, and Noldore was not even speaking of his wife! It was because he knew now, that every time he made love to her thoughts of the encouragement of others had to enter his mind, thoughts of their comments that love-making brought children and that after ten years he should already have an heir, like Faramir…or Éomer…and now Legolas, for that matter.

He sighed and lifted his head. "Noldore…you are a good friend," he said, "so I feel as though I may speak plain."

"Please."

"You and your wife are married and still very much in love," he said. "Have you ever felt that other people cannot understand what you feel for her?" His heart was in his throat for a moment, and he had to clear it. "That no matter what you ever said to explain it to someone, you would never be able to find the words?"

Noldore sighed. "You are worried."

"Not worried," he refuted. "I love and adore her; she is the heart of my heart, and losing her for any reason would be the one thing in the world that I could never survive. That being said, are you hearing the same words that have been spoken around me for the past few weeks? Are you overhearing whispers about the…child again?" His voice was softer when he mentioned the child. "That we have been together ten years and it is long overdue? That people are…talking…"

"Elessar," he said gently, "I know this might seem flippant, but…when are the people not talking? Of course they think of it and imagine both of you with a child, especially the one you had. The people do want to see you happy—"

"I am happy," he said, looking Noldore directly in the eye, but thinking of Nardur's very similar words. Then he thought of himself last night, his teeth on Arwen's ear. "I am very happy."

"Of course you are," Noldore stated. "But when they think of it, they only remember the pain of loss, not the joy of your wedding. They are only people, after all." Aragorn stayed silent. "Come," he said, rising, "you would not want everyone to see you in here sitting like this, looking utterly exhausted." He looked down at him with a bit of a smirk. "Others may start talking."

Aragorn snorted and his eyes flared with fire as he threw himself to his feet, ignoring the jarring of his back. "And what will they be saying I have not already heard?" he suddenly snapped. "I have been told I do not bed mywife enough! And that is the reason we are…we…" He could not finish, did not know how he had wanted to put what he had been meaning to say.

"Elessar," Noldore said softly, holding out a peace-keeping hand. He did not raise his eyes to the King's; he could not hold them.

"And if they saw me here, they could assume that I have done, which should please them immensely! Most of all Nardur! Perhaps," he scoffed, his eyes dark now, "I should give them a sight!" His voice was picking up in volume, his anger finally finding an outlet and a place to shout. "Perhaps we should make love before the gates of Minas Tirith! Then they could all see!" Nostrils flaring, he turned away from Noldore and stared out the nearest window, arms folded protectively against his chest, his fury pounding through his veins. As Noldore gathered his thoughts to respond, Aragorn's voice lowered, but not because he had regained his patience.

"Perhaps then they would stop assuming and start thinking. But no…that is too much to ask, particularly of them."

Noldore came behind him and placed a hand on his shoulder. "You have been under much stress these last few weeks," he said with a calm voice. "I have watched it build in you; you are cracking under the weight of attempting to bear it."

The door to Ecthelion came open and Noldore dropped his hand from the man's shoulder. Several councilmen came in and turned towards the stairs, still leaving the two of them standing there. Aragorn turned back to look into his face, his eyes now their regular grey, no fire kindled in them; there was a deep sadness instead.

"After ten years, you would think I would be used to this," he said, his voice low so only the man before him could hear. "After ten years, it should come as no surprise to be talked of and to always be thrust into the sunlight for everyone to see." He shook his head. "I do not care what the council says about me; I have never cared. None of it matters; I have lived my life in the Wilds and thought of no man's opinion of me very highly. No…it is her heart, Noldore. Do you understand? I cannot bear it."

"There is much weighing on you both," Noldore replied. "The people's words, the Lady Enguina now with child, the councilman's deeds, the long years…it will pass with time. Try to let the words go. Do not take them inside, to heart, as you have been doing, and do not lose sight of what matters most."

Aragorn lowered his head and wanted to sigh, trying to give his frustration to Ilúvatar. "Forgive me, Noldore. I seem to always be yelling at you these days."

"Not at me," the old man said with a bit of a smile. "Around me, I think."

"My Lord!" called one of the guards from the doorway, and both of them looked up.

"What is it, Lifas?" Aragorn asked, walking towards him as several more councilmen were making their way inside. Lifas did not appear to look too worried, so it must not have been urgent.

"Captain Mennev wanted me to report to you," he said. "Princess Enguina and the Lady Erumar were taken to the Houses of Healing this morning."

"Was it serious?" he asked, his heart leaping into his throat. "Are they all right?"

"According to Captain Mennev, my Lord, both of 'em are fine. It seems they want to hold the Princess overnight; she fainted in the gardens this morning."

"And the Lady Erumar?"

"She had a minor injury, though I can't be sure they're not holding her as well."

"Does the Queen—"

"Yes," Lifas added. "She's with them now, far as I was told."

"Thank you for the news, Lifas. I will be sure to go to the Houses as soon as this meeting is finished." He was not completely relieved, but he assumed that if he seriously needed to worry, Mennev would have been far more urgent. He would stop at the Houses on his way to the fourth level.

"Of course, my Lord. Good day."

When Arwen hurried into the Houses of Healing, there was already a commotion going on in and outside of the room she correctly assumed was Enguina's. A Healer strode out, one who Arwen recognized quite well, muttering to herself. She was a large, shapely old woman, but she was as kind as she was knowledgeable.

"Just can't lie still that one! Doesn't she know that it's not good for a woman to fall over when she's with child? Or to lose consciousness? And she's an elf! She needs to mind 'erself, that's what."

"Hilta, what is the matter?"

"Oh, my Lady!" she said, laying a hand over her heart. "I'm sorry; you startled me!"

"Forgive me; I did not mean anything by it. I heard you talking; were you referring to the Lady Enguina? I came as soon as I heard they were—"

"Well, thank goodness! Perhaps you can make them see sense! The fair-haired one's impossible, and the dark-haired one doesn't speak at all! I don't know what the matter is, but there's some serious trouble in that room."

Arwen smiled at her description of Enguina, but was worried about her description of Erumar. "Can you tell me anything about what happened?"

"The Princess fainted in the garden, not half an hour past. The other had thorns in her arms from the roses, I believe. But you can go in, make no mistake. I'm sure one of them will talk to you."

"Thank you, Hilta. You are most gracious."

She turned and immediately went towards the room where she expected to find Enguina half out of bed, and Erumar sitting nearby.

"By Elbereth Gilthoniel," she heard Enguina's voice snarl, "if you do not let me up out of this bed, I will tear—"

"My Lady, please! You need to lie—"

"Let me go!"

Arwen hurried over and entered the doorway, taking in the scene before her. Enguina was half-sitting, half-lying on the bed trying to free herself from two Healers, one of which had clearly been trying to push her back down. Erumar was on the opposite side of the room, two Healers nearby her as well. One held Erumar's arm, but Arwen could not see what either of them were doing. She chose Enguina first because the Healers had their hands full with her; Erumar was not moving.

"Thank Ilúvatar!" Enguina cried upon seeing her. "Will you please tell these tyrants that I am perfectly fine and I do not need to lie down?"

Arwen raised her eyebrows. "'Tyrants?'"

"Fine," she hissed. "Lovely ladies. Whatever you would like me to say! Only please—"

"I will not help you," she said simply, "until you explain to me why you fainted."

"I fainted from seeing Erumar's blood," she said, color in her face. "I was fine."

Arwen sighed, rolling her eyes. "You can let her go," she said, coming over to Enguina. The Healer looked like she was grateful, released her, and the two of them left as quickly as possible.

"Thank you," Enguina grumbled, pulling herself into a sitting position and then attempting to swing her legs over the bed. "I was just telling them that I am perfectly fine and have no need to—"

Arwen reached over and tugged her legs back on, taking a seat beside her on the bed. "You can sit up…but you are staying."

She groaned and decided she might as well lay back down on the bed if she really was going to be forced to stay here. "Arwen, you are such a pain in my—"

"Oh, enough," Arwen said, scoffing at her. "That may work on them; they do not know you. But I do, and another thing, you do not want to get up right now. You shall only faint again."

Enguina laid her hand on her stomach and grew paler just by thinking of it. "Eru in heaven, that was awful. I cannot look over there again and see…and see her hands."

"What in the world happened?" Arwen asked softly, looking over at Erumar.

"If we speak of it now," she said in the same undertone as Arwen, "the other ladies in this room may think she is out of her mind…and keep her here indefinitely." Arwen nodded her understanding.

"Stay here, please?" she asked.

Enguina sighed. "If I must."

Arwen rose and walked over to Erumar and the Healers, taking a place behind the chair that she sat in and gently laying her hands on her shoulders. "Erumar," she said softly, "why did you let Enguina terrorize those poor women?"

Erumar tried to smile, and as she did, Arwen felt the tension in her shoulders. She reached forward to wipe tears from her face. Arwen lifted her head and looked to the young woman holding Erumar's left arm.

"Cladien, she is in pain," she said softly.

"It is all right," Erumar interjected. She did not want to say that it mercilessly assaulted her senses and forced her to think about something other than her love for someone that existed only in her heart. No, if she said that she might frighten all of them, even if it was true. "I can handle it."

"I am sorry, my Lady," said the Healer Arwen had spoken to. "We need to remove these thorns and then we can put salve on the puncture wounds. Some of them are in very deep."

"Please, be gentle with her," Arwen said as she watched the other Healer take a small knife to the edge of one of the wounds, prying out the thorn beneath the skin. She bit her lip just looking at it, imagining what it must have felt like. She squeezed Erumar's shoulder beneath her hand.

"Arwen," murmured Erumar, "go and sit with Enguina. We can…talk if you like when they are finished."

"No," she said. "I want to stand here with you." She rubbed both her hands along Erumar's shoulders. "I want you to know I care about you, and so does Enguina."

"I do love you, Erumar," called Enguina from a few feet away. "Our thoughts are on you now; we want to be sure you are safe."

"I am in the Houses of Healing," she replied softly, "how much more safe can I become?"

"Enguina, rest your eyes until they finish Erumar's hands," Arwen told her, and Enguina rolled her eyes and sighed, reluctantly obeying. As she did, Arwen studied the hands that they were working on, the cuts, the scars, the amount of mutilation that Erumar had done to her hands over time. This was repetitive. Erumar needed something that would take her mind from Haldir...constantly. They needed to convince Erumar that she wanted to go to Eryn Lasgalen. That, at least, would occupy her mind.

It took a little while, but the two women finally finished with both of Erumar's hands. The older woman looked at Erumar sternly as she finished wrapping linens around the right one.

"My dear, I don't know what you've been doing with these hands, but you need to take better care of them. Think next time before you put them down on something sharp…you only have two." Arwen was unsure if the woman was attempting to be funny; if she was, no one laughed.

"Thank you," Erumar said, as Arwen rubbed her shoulders again. "I…will try."

"See that you do," the old woman replied. She rose. "The bandages need to stay on for a little while. You can put salve on them when they hurt and re-wrap them. They should close up in a day or so, and you're free to leave whenever you're ready." She looked up at Arwen. "My Lady, Talf suggested that the Princess remain overnight, just to be—"

"I am fine!" called Enguina, pulling herself into a sitting position. "I will be six months with child in a few days; I am not dying. Honestly! I know my body, thank you. I will be—"

Arwen held up a hand towards Enguina and she fell silent, throwing her arms in the air. "Continue, please."

"But the Lady's free to make her own decision. I would suggest she remain for at least a few hours, but if she really wants to go, that will have to do."

"We will probably stay those few hours, but not overnight," Arwen said. "I do thank you for everything you have done to make my friends comfortable."

"Of course, my Lady. If you need anything at all, Cladien will be about."

The two Healers went out, leaving the three elves alone. Arwen rubbed her thumbs against Erumar's shoulders again. "Come along. We are headed to Enguina's side of the room while she stays down." Arwen looked at her pointedly as they came to her, taking seats on the bed around her. Enguina rolled her eyes.

"Sometimes, you make my life impossible."

"Enguina, these people are only trying to help," Arwen reminded her. "Perhaps they are a bit overcautious but you should give them a little grace. They only want to be sure you are well."

"I know." She laid back down so she could look at both Erumar and Arwen at the same time, Erumar sitting towards the front of her bed near the wall, her feet curled up beneath her. Arwen sat on the edge of the bed nearest the door. "My stomach does feel a little better," she admitted, "though I still believe that I am fine."

"We will go to the King's House for lunch," Arwen said. "In the meantime, this place is just as good a place to rest as any other, and it will give the Healers some peace." She turned slightly and looked at Erumar. "Please…tell me what happened." She reached out and laid a hand over her friend's.

"Tell us both," Enguina said. "I saw you walking and then all of a sudden—"

"I do not really wish to discuss it," Erumar said honestly, looking down at Arwen's hand covering hers. "I do not ever have much to say."

"We know you do not," Arwen added, "but you must."

"Talking about it does help," Enguina said softly, thinking about her own dreams.

"No, no it does not. It makes it more real," she replied, her eyes suddenly filling with tears. Both of them knew it was not from the pain in her hands.

"It helps to have someone to help you bear the burden. Secrets help no one," Enguina said. Arwen felt suddenly uncomfortable, thinking of all the things she was hiding from Aragorn right now, even from her two friends sitting before her.

Arwen tilted her head. "Let us help you," she said earnestly. "All we want to do is help."

"I…ache…with longing for him," she finally answered honestly, her voice breaking. "I ache and it will not let me go; there is no relief, no way to get away from it." She choked back a sob, and Enguina took her other hand in both of hers. "That…that was why I put my hands down! It does not make sense; I know it frightens you."

"It is easier," Arwen said, trying to fill in what she was not saying.

Erumar closed her eyes, her face full of shame, and turned it away from both of them. "The physical pain is easier. When it happens, I am forced to focus on something other than my heartache, my grief, my loss. That is…that is why I…why I sometimes…" She could not admit to what she was really doing. "It helps, for those seconds, to take away the agony." Her voice was so quiet.

"Oh, Erumar…" Enguina whispered, "he is gone. We cannot get him back."

"I…I know," she groaned. "I know; do you think I do not tell myself a thousand times a day?" She choked on her tears again and sat back against the wall, staring up at the ceiling as they spilled down her face. "Oh, why? Why am I still here? Why must I still be tortured like this?"

Neither of them had an answer, so they simply held her hands. Finally, Enguina spoke to Arwen alone. "I came upon her when she was in the garden," she said softly, "I found her by the stone wall pressing her hands down into the thorns of the roses. That is why she had them in her hands and arms."

Arwen nodded and looked into Erumar's face. "We understand the need you are driven to, andyour pain, but you have to try something else, Erumar. You…you cannot do this to yourself. You are going to drive yourself mad."

"I do not know what to do. Haldir haunts my every waking moment, my dreams," she murmured, trying to control her tears.

"That is not what he would have wanted for you," Enguina said gently.

"How can you know that?" she asked brokenly. "What if he expected me to die to be with him? How can I do that if no one will let me?"

"I cannot believe that anyone would expect such a thing!" she cried in response, her own eyes filling. "Elbereth, do you really think that Haldir would want you to die for him? That would be the last thing he would want! His entire life as Captain of the Wood all he sought was to protect his family, to protect you!"

"Enguina," she said, lowering her head to look into her face, "how can I believe that he would want me to make peace in this world, or—Eru forbid—find someone else to share my life with? I was his wife! I pledged myself to be his and his alone!" Tears fell on her face again in spite of her attempts to control them.

"But he is gone," Enguina said. "You have to let him go."

"Could you?" she asked, begged, looking between the two of them. "If you lost Legolas or Aragorn tomorrow could you find someone to fill the void in your heart?"

"No," Arwen said honestly, "Neither of us could do that."

"So there must be a reason you are here, Erumar," Enguina said. "You have tried to be with him more times than I care to remember, and each time, Ilúvatar has not let you die." She gripped her hand. "There is a reason."

"If there was a reason, do you not think I would be a bit more at peace? Do you not think that I would have seen it by now? It has been ten years! Ten years!" Arwen and Enguina were silent, but they looked at each other; Erumar was not blind to it. "Are you going to say it aloud?" she said bitterly. "Are you going to tell me what both of you are thinking?"

"You did see it," Enguina said softly. "You experienced that reason for nearly two years before it walked out of your life. You cannot stop thinking about it because you know in your heart that it could be a reason…but…you…" She did not want to say the word; instead, Arwen did.

"But you are afraid," she said, kissing Erumar's hand. "And that is all right. You are afraid of what the consequences would be to bare your heart to become close to someone else. You are afraid of the possibilities, of what could happen. You are afraid to trust the One when you feel abandoned by him. And all of those feelings are fair; they make sense."

"No one is trying to convince you otherwise of that," Enguina agreed.

"I…I am afraid," Erumar said, acknowledging that they were right. "I am afraid to start over, to begin again when I have lost everything. I am afraid that I will come to know someone…and they will decide they do not like what they see. I am terrified of falling apart before others like this, especially those I would call my friends. I should be strong enough—"

"But you are not," Enguina said. "Erumar, I want you to be happy more than I want anything else in the world right now. In fact, more than I want Legolas to return from the Glittering Caves, and that is saying something." Erumar stared at her, and then Enguina said more kindly, "I miss Haldir, too, and he is your husband before he was my brother, but he would never, ever have wanted you to be living like this, hurting yourself."

"Dear One," Arwen said gently, "when was the last time you felt a bit more at peace?" Erumar's face filled with shame and she looked away. "Oh, can you not be honest with yourself? Can you not be honest with us, your friends, who care about you and love you?"

She trembled once, hard, as though it cost her something, her eyes so tightly shut. "The last night Thranduil was in Ithilien," she moaned. "And that is wrong."

"No, it is not," Arwen said fervently. "He is a good man, Erumar; he could be a good friend."

"You are friends," Enguina pointed out. "Even Legolas was amazed by some of the stories his father had shared with you that he has not shared in years. He has been as solitary as you, sharing with no one, bearing his own burdens…just as you have. Your life has been so silent, so lonely. You can talk to each other. Is that not something you have wanted?"

"It…it is so hard," Erumar whispered, and Arwen nodded.

"If it was easy, would it matter so much?" she said. "You have a chance to live, Erumar, a chance to find a bit of peace. You should seek it out. The worst that could happen is that you arrive and you cannot stay. And then you have but one choice left: journey to the Havens. Peace there is promised to our people. The Valar will take away your pain," she murmured the words softly, "if nothing else will."

"I…cannot imagine leaving Middle-Earth, never seeing either of you or Aragorn or…" she could not say his name. She had not known Thranduil so long as them, but it suddenly struck her how sad she would be if she were to never see him again. "I would never see your children grow."

Enguina held her hand tightly. "You should give serious thought to taking Thranduil on his offer. You should give serious thought to traveling to Eryn Lasgalen. Such a journey to a place you have never been would give you more than enough to think about and you would have an opportunity to breathe, away from every single thing that reminds you of him. I know that you see him in my face, and that there are times you cannot look at me because it hurts so much."

"Oh, Enguina," she whispered brokenly, tears spilling over again. "Forgive me!"

Arwen raised her other hand to wipe her face gently as Enguina continued, "I did not say that to make you so full of regret! I said it to speak the truth. Every single person here brings a reminder of what you have lost."

"In Lasgalen, there will be new faces, new friends to make, and the only connection to the life you have shared with the man you loved for so long will be you. Your own heart will be the only thing you will have to face," Arwen encouraged her. "Is that not enough?"

"I am afraid," she said quietly, and Arwen raised a hand to wipe her face.

"What you are terrified of is being alone in Lasgalen," Enguina said honestly, "and not only because it is a strange place. You are afraid of being alone with Thranduil and having him find you some night like this, to see you cut yourself to escape the grief. That is something you deeply fear." Erumar looked away out of pain at the thought. "Erumar, please, let me encourage you. Thranduil will see your scars and he will grieve for them, but only because he would care for you, and he would not see them in everything else he will come to know about you as your friendship grows." She looked at Arwen and gave her a little smile. "Would Thranduil see one hair out of place on your head in all your beauty? No, and he is not such a fool to ask you to speak of something such as this when he knows about your hurts as well as his own."

"And he does know," Arwen admitted. "From the night you fell by the wall, he understood your pain. He has been there, is still there; perhaps both of you are meant to overcome together."

"Arwen—"

"That did not mean that I am hoping you will spend your life with Thranduil. But perhaps you can help each other find some peace. Good friends often do that for one another."

Enguina smiled. "Yes, they do."

"You are both my good friends," Erumar said. "Why can I not take peace from you?"

"I think we are too close to Haldir. Especially me," Enguina admitted. "I think getting away from it all will do you a world of good, and it would be a huge benefit to see Eryn Lasgalen in the meantime."

Erumar was silent for a moment, and then she sighed. "Enguina, your hold is killing my hand."

"Oh Elbereth!" she laughed, releasing the hand was gripping. "Forgive me; I was thinking I was giving you comfort and here I was hurting you all the while."

"Forget it," she said. Then she lifted her head to look at her. "If I were to travel to Eryn Lasgalen, I would be going alone, yes?"

Enguina hesitated and then frowned. "Legolas and I have a strong desire to travel there, but with the baby coming, I doubt we will be able to travel in less than a few years." She grimaced. "I…do not know how to remedy that."

"There is nothing you can do," Erumar said. "I would have to travel alone then."

"There may be another possibility," Arwen interjected softly. "There have been rumors that there are Easterlings and orcs gathering on the Northeastern borders of Gondor. Aragorn has said that with the reports that will come in a month or so, it is very possible that he may have to ride out with a war party to drive them out." She met Erumar's eyes. "If that happens, you could ride out with him and go to Eryn Lasgalen from there—it would not be far to the main road that runs through Mirkwood. Though it is highly likely that Thranduil would meet you there himself. Either way, that would give you nearly a month to deliberate."

Erumar sighed again and rolled her eyes. "Deliberation is never good for making decisions that you think too much about. It would be better for me if they were leaving tomorrow."

Enguina laughed. "We shall encourage you a lot before that time! And you will be with both of us until then; we are going to keep an eye on you."

Arwen smiled. "There will be no running away from us now." Erumar actually smiled.

"Thank you both. This…is not easy. It never will be. I only wish I knew the right decision. I wish I knew it in my heart."

"Perhaps by then, you will."

Enguina sat up, looking closely at Arwen. The other elf did not notice at first, until Erumar looked over at Enguina. "What is the matter, Enguina? Why are you staring?"

"What is this?" she asked, raising her eyebrow and tugging Arwen's hair aside from her ear. Before Arwen could raise her hands, Enguina burst out laughing. "Or should I say these?"

Arwen pulled back quickly, but the damage was already done. She was blushing so furiously in her embarrassment that she pulled back so quickly and so hard that she nearly fell off the side of Enguina's bed. Erumar reached forward and grabbed her arm, holding her upright, even though it was difficult with her hands wrapped the way they were. Arwen tucked her hair back down where it had been, but in the meantime, Erumar had seen what Enguina was referring to.

"Do tell that story, Arwen!" laughed Enguina, and Arwen shook her head, biting her lip and trying to prevent herself from turning even redder than she already was. Her ears were turning pink, which only increased the very obvious mark on her left one. The way her hair now fell covered her throat, but not her ear; her hair was caught behind it. She ducked her head, looking away from both of them.

"Enguina," Erumar chastised, "people do not enjoy being weaseled. Leave her be."

"Not a chance," she said firmly. "And you would like to hear the story as well; do not deny it."

"You should talk," Erumar said, looking directly at Enguina. "I seem to recall someone who never even attempted to cover theirs and had many more. Even Thranduil saw it," she said disapprovingly, "and pretended not to. You made a good choice when you left the room, and you should be grateful that he never mentioned it."

"Oh please!" Enguina laughed, blushing a bit herself. "It was breakfast, and I was not thinking clearly. And I will be honest, I forgot completely that either one of you were there. I suppose I was a bit mortified that morning, but I banished myself back to our bedroom." She giggled and shook her head. "You will have to forgive us that one, Erumar. I bet you and Thranduil had a good laugh."

"Neither one of us ever said a word, to tell the truth," she admitted. "Though I am certain he would have liked to, especially to Legolas."

Arwen was coming her fingers through her hair, tucking it over her ear and making sure it covered. "I had not planned to even leave the King's House today," she said in a small voice. "I thought you both would be coming for breakfast, so I…thought I would not have to leave."

"Do not be so ashamed," Erumar said gently. "You can see nothing."

"The ear is a bit obvious," Enguina said truthfully. Arwen raised her hand and covered it, blushing again. "Stop worrying! Your hair is covering it now," she added, taking down Arwen's hand. "I only meant when it was not. You cannot really see the bruise on your neck." Her hand went there instead to cover it. "I was looking for it, honestly; no one else will be."

"The bruise will fade," Erumar said and then sighed. "The ear, you may have to hide for several days."

"I…do not want people to talk," Arwen said in the same voice.

"I was only teasing you, you know. I have no right to talk," Enguina laughed. "Furthermore, I see nothing wrong with it."

"It was not on purpose," she said, and she finally lifted her embarrassed eyes.

"Of course not," Enguina said, rolling her eyes. "Heaven knows how private you two are. Aragorn was probably staring at them this morning and apologizing."

"Unlike Legolas, who was probably proud of them?" guessed Erumar.

Enguina smiled helplessly. "Legolas is my husband. If it happened in a fit of passion, who am I to complain?"

"That is interesting," Arwen said, trying to find her voice again. "Considering you were angry with Aragorn when I first tried to explain being…sore."

She laughed. "That was long before I understood."

"Mmm." But Arwen could not seem to draw her hand away from her neck. "I…just…did not want people to talk." She knew she was repeating herself, but it was because it was weighing on her.

Enguina laughed aloud. "Arwen, no one would even notice! How many of them look at you as closely as I have been looking at you for the last hour? No one but Aragorn. Beside all of that, none of them would be so uncouth as to talk about such things. You are a married woman; you are free to love your husband any way you choose, and he, you."

While Enguina was speaking, Erumar eyed Arwen. For the past week, she had seen and even heard some things as she was moving about the City, and not all of them had been pleasant. She could understand why Arwen would be hesitant about such things being spoken among the people. Once again, she held her tongue. She would not call Arwen out when it was clear that she was not going to speak of any of it.

"That is a very lovely thought, Enguina," Arwen said with a wry smile. "However, you would be surprised the number of conversations that take place in Minas Tirith that are neither couth nor understanding." Erumar could hear the ring of truth beneath the cynicism Arwen hid behind.

"I would not worry of them," Enguina advised her.

"I will…try to keep that in mind."

There were a few moments of silence, and then Enguina poked her in the arm. "So…spill it."

She sighed, rolling her eyes. "What is it you want to know? It should be quite clear. I obviously did not hit my head off of something and cut the edge of my ear," she replied sardonically.

Enguina shook her head, grinning. "Honestly? It looks as though it hurt."

Arwen lowered her head, blushing again. "Truthfully, it did…but…I…my…my ears are so sensitive that I was…feeling something very different than the initial pain, and neither of us noticed I was bleeding." Her voice became faster as she explained. "We were a bit too focused on other things."

"What about your throat? Probably your shoulder as well, I should guess."

"Enguina," chastised Erumar, but Arwen shook her head, looking strangely guilty.

"To be honest, I do not even remember those."

Enguina giggled. "That is too funny."

"Oh, leave her be!" Erumar said, watching Arwen's blush deepen as Enguina laughed. "Stop meddling, Enguina."

Enguina grinned. "Oh all right. I just thought a little talk about our husbands would be fun."

"This is a bit too fresh," Arwen said softly, rubbing her hand over her neck. She sighed, giving a little grin as she thought about something else. "Do you remember, a few days before your wedding when Éowyn and I were telling you stories?"

She laughed. "I would never forget that night."

"You had asked if there was ever a time when Aragorn and I were 'caught.' Yes?"

She burst out laughing. "Yes, I remember the story Éowyn told about Ecthelion." Erumar shook her head with a rueful smile. "Why? Did something else happen?"

"I do not have a story that quite equals it…but it was recent, and it was a moment when I wished with all my might we had not been disturbed and yet, we were."

Erumar sighed. "How I hated those moments; though they were very few."

Enguina smiled. "I have not yet had one. But please, Arwen, do tell. You seem as though you want to tell that story."

"Oh…because you will laugh when I did not laugh at all!" Arwen replied with a chuckle.