a/n: YAY, I ACTUALLY UPDATED IN A SEMI-DECENT TIME PERIOD!

Chapter 35: Haldir is a pest.

-Haldir-

Ai, Elbereth sometimes I feel Samantha has indeed 'gone off the deep end' as she would say, and there is no hope of her safe return. Her penchant for saying such outlandish things has not disappeared over time and it still boggles me overmuch, just as it has always done from the very beginning of our strange and unlikely friendship. However, let it not be said that Haldir of Lorien makes the same mistake twice, so I let it slip by without comment.

There are some things that even I cannot go head-to-head with.

Her face is suddenly mournful as she lays it upon the table, and I wonder if perhaps my jibes had been a little too much. "Sam?"

"Yeah?" her answer is muffled, and she does not make an effort to meet my eyes.

"Is anything amiss?" I ask gently.

"No," she answers quickly, too quickly. "No, I'm fine, don't worry."

I raise an eyebrow at this but say nothing, instead I take her hand and pull her out of her seat. "Come," I say. "I believe some fresh air would do you good."

She smiles and shakes her head, and for a brief moment I fear she is about to deny me, but the moment passes and she grabs a few apples and follows me to the door.

"Thanks for the stories and the cakes, Erothon." She calls pleasantly back to the Head Cook of the Gondorian Kitchens and then bounds out of the door.

"Anytime, my lass." The large man answers, and I smile politely as I close the door. Sam really has a way of endearing herself to people.

"Where are we going?" she asks me as we make our way out of the stone hallways and out into the courtyard.

The wind blows, cool and sweet as I lead her towards the garden, eager to surround myself with trees. I have been away from the Golden Wood for too long.

She smiles as I peer up into the branches of a tall tree and contemplate climbing into its eaves. "You miss Lothlorien, don't you?" she asks, leaning against the tree trunk.

"Quite." I nod, smiling wistfully. "It has been a while."

"You're going back soon, aren't you?" her expression is mild but the sadness in her tone is apparent, although perhaps she does not know it. "I have a tendency of disappearing when the talk of departures start but even I haven't been able to avoid the fact that you're all leaving soon."

"Aye." Is all I can say. I cannot deny the truth. She heaves a sigh and tosses an apple into the air.

"Eomer's coming back at the end of the week, isn't he?" she inquires. I nod. "He's taking Theoden, King's remains and then he and Eowyn are going back to Rohan to get ready for her wedding to Faramir."

I nod once more, waiting for her to finish her recitation of the itinerary that had been given to us two days prior. There is a certain bitterness to her tone, and I wonder if she will voice her concerns at the end of her diatribe. She has always been one to speak her mind, but I have come to notice that she is also an expert in saying everything but conveying nothing at all.

"Aragorn's going to have the court escort them until the border, before going back to Minas Tirith. The hobbits are going back to the Shire as well, and the Rangers are heading back North to Eriador. I've heard talk amongst the elves of making their return journey to Imladris and Lothlorien on the same day."

"That is correct." I confirm, leaning on the tree next to her. "Our hearts long for our own. Minas Tirith is a beautiful city but it is, and always will be, the home of men."

"I know." Her voice is small as she acknowledges this. "I'm being selfish, I suppose. I just don't want to say goodbye just yet. So many friends are leaving; friends that are the only people I've known since I came here." She pauses, weighing her words before continuing. "The ladies of the court think I'm either an oddity or a disgrace. And why shouldn't they? I disagree with most of their practices and I'm more soldier than noble woman." She juts out her chin, as if daring me to contradict her words. "I'm not saying I need anyone to protect me, I'm more than able to fend for myself. It's just disheartening to think of so many friendly faces leaving."

This piques my interest. "The ladies of the court have been saying ill things of you?"

She laughs and shakes her head. "No, they wouldn't dare, considering who my brothers are, but you can see it on their faces." She makes an expression of distaste that makes me laugh. I am aware of how difficult it must be to voice her fears like this.

"You're going to come back and visit though, aren't you?" she says suddenly, grabbing hold of my arm, the apple she was previously holding falls to the ground and rolls away into the darkness.

"Of course!" I assure her. "You would not be able to keep me away."

Her expression of distress relaxes and she smiles. "Good, because I would have marched over to Lorien and dragged you kicking and screaming, if need be."

I chuckled at this, not doubting her words. In all honesty, I find it disconcerting to have Samantha this open and vulnerable. While I am one of her more intimate friends, it has always been her brother or Legolas who was privy to her softer side.

We lapse into comfortable silence and I wonder, not for the first time, why things between her and Legolas had gone the way they did. It certainly was not due to lack of feelings on either part, for anyone with half a mind could discern how those two felt for each other, although they themselves were incapable of seeing it.

"Hey, Hal?" Sam is the first to break the silence. "What does Mendwe mean?"

Her tone is casual, as though the question was nothing more than something to satisfy her curiosity, an idle fancy, but I recall that day after the Battle for Helm's Deep when the word was made known to her. I recall the knowing look that passed Aragorn's face when he heard. "It is an endearment, little one." I tell her, deciding that causing her distress at the point would be pointless and cruel. "It means, "love of mine" in the common tongue."

"Oh," is all she says and I try, with difficulty, to gauge her reaction. A surprise, since Sam has always been one to wear her emotions on her sleeve. I wait for her to inquire about the plans of a more specific ellon, or even just a passing query as to his well being, but her eyes remain skyward, expression clouded. Silence pervades between us, something of a novelty where she is concerned, since she has always been one who could rival even young Peregrin's energy when it comes to talking.

I sigh and tilt my head back, finding Earendil shining bright and resolute in the sky. "You are not even going to ask?"

She looks back at me, eyes wide like a deer about to be shot. "WHAT?"

"You have no wish to know what Legolas and Gimli are planning?" my tone is causal, and my eyes have not left my people's favorite star, but I can feel her floundering. She had not expected the sudden turn of conversation. "Their roads lie together for many miles yet." I continue. "First to the glittering caves of Helm's Deep, then to Fangorn."

"I don't—what do you even…gah!" she throws up her hands in the air in exasperation. "Why are you telling me this?" she demands.

I shrug my shoulders, unable to keep the smirk at bay. "They will be gone for a long time, by mortal standards, especially by your watch, little one. Eight moons at the very least."

Her expression is surly but I shoulder on. "It would do to make your peace with him before he ventures forth. The fellowship may be broken, but is your friendship to take the same route?"

"You know what?" she snaps. "I liked it better when you thought the world was a big joke that was at everyone's expense but yours."

I smirk. "I do, but you are a friend, little one, and I feel it my civic duty to steer you towards the correct path." A heartbeat passes. "Would it truly be such a difficult thing to make amends?"

She answers me with a glare and mutters something rude under her breath. "I'm not touching that with a ten-foot pole." She declares, pushing herself off the trunk and walking angrily back inside.

I sigh and shake my head in exasperation.

OoO

-Sam-

I leave Haldir to be an annoying pest in the garden and proceed to my room, a scowl etched on my face.

How dare he? I mean, sure, I can appreciate that he thinks he's being all Mr. Miyagi-like, giving unasked-for advice like this, but really? I mean what I said; things were far simpler when everyone wasn't all up in my business. I am indeed aware of Legolas' and Gimli's plans. I did read the books after all and while I don't really like it, I know that I can deal with it. Questions are like nifflers, to make a random Harry Potter reference, they burrow until they find that little heap of gold you've been trying to cover up and never return it.

And while I can admit that Hal may (may, okay?) have a point, could I really do it? Legolas and I have barely exchanged pleasantries after the incident. Can I really just forget about skipping out on him and telling him he was an idiot for wanting to be with me? More importantly, can he?

Alright, alright, the gap is largely due to my, shall we say talent? Yes, let's call it that; my talent for finding activities and sights to see that are in the complete opposite direction of everyone's favorite elf.

Gimli's already given me grief about it, don't worry. In fact, he's threatened to throw an axe at me if I don't stop behaving like a total—butterfly.

Before then, I had no idea the word butterfly could even be used as an insult, but believe me, Gimli pulled it off with flying colors.

"Ah, little sister." Faramir greets, stepping into my room with a grin, because the universe apparently thinks that I haven't been tortured enough for one day. "I had been wondering if mûmakil had perhaps gotten through the doors unheeded."

I flip him the finger.

"Now Sam, I am devoted to my betrothed, and you are as a sister to me, t'would not be appropriate." A pillow lands straight on his face for that one.

"You," I tell him, launching another one at his chest. "Are absolutely disgusting. You kiss Eowyn with that mouth?"

"I do many other things as well." He replies with a roguish grin.

"Okay, dirty brothers who give out too much information get thrown on their asses." I tell him, cringing as I push him out of my room. I smack him upside the head for good measure and glare. "You just love torturing me, don't you?" He smirks and my mouth drops open in realization. "Oh, my God this is like all your birthdays rolled into one, isn't it? This, this is your way of getting your own back for all those years you had to endure Boromir's torture as the youngest, oh God, I hate you!"

Except I don't, and he knows it. He swoops down and plants a kiss on my forehead. "That is how the House of Ecthelion operates, little sister. Get used to it."

OoO

Dinner that night is a pleasantly uneventful affair, which I am thankful for, after all the emotional torture of the day. I head out to the gardens again, something that has become something of a habit of mine. Something about the cool, crisp air and the sound of the rustling leaves deeply relaxes me.

Of course, the day wouldn't be complete without one last bout of torture, as clearly exhibited by Boromir appearing by my elbow. "Hullo, little sister."

"Hullo, big brother." I answer, trying to be pleasant. "What do you want?"

Oops, guess that didn't work out as well as I'd hoped.

"I am intruding on your brooding period, I know." He laughs, sitting down next to me. "But indulge me; I am here to perform a few brotherly duties."

I make a face at him. "Brotherly duties? Nothing good has come from those words, yet." I give him a look. "Hal blabbed, didn't he?"

He has the decency to look abashed. "He did."

I knew it.

"That sodding March Warden is such a sodding pest." I grumble, kicking at the grass. "I'm fine and I'm sure he is too, and it's not something I have to ask about."

"You do not have to, no." he agrees, and I think that maybe for once he's on my side, regardless of logistics. "But you should. You let your stubbornness cloud your senses too much."

Clearly, I was wrong.

I snort at him. "You're talking to me about stubbornness? Really?"

He frowns at me. "What is that supposed to mean?"

This genuinely makes me laugh. "Boromir, I love you, but the pot can't go around calling the kettle black. The kettle bites."

His frown deepens. "Do you know, no one knows what you are saying half the time?"

I grin. "I know, I like it that way. Makes for more interesting conversation."

He shakes his head at me and takes a deep breath. "Have a care, Sam. Talk to him, make amends, you have been good friends thus far."

I refrain from giving an answer, and silence falls. I rest my head on his shoulder and sigh wearily. We had been good friends, but how do you go back to that, after all of this?

"All shall be sorted out." He murmurs, putting an arm around my shoulders.

Why do I have to have such a traitorous mouth?

a/n: Yo, peeps! Remember the purple button? It's your friend, and the key to mine happiness. Right, peace out.