Two

"Stoke the fire," Haldir directed. He shifted the shivering girl against his chest, wrapping his arms around her midsection, "Bring water to boil."

Rumil, his younger brother nodded and the other guard left for more wood for the brazier.

The girl moaned and struggled against Haldir's arms as her fever began to rise.

"Must—go," she whined, "Must."

"Na," Haldir repeated, "You just stay near the fire. It is too cold and damp for you. Come, stay by me."

She turned fevered eyes on him, looked down and saw there was little clothing between the two of them. She struggled again.

"I must not be! I must not be violated! I am to be a queen!"

Rumil and Haldir traded glances as the elder of the two warded off the feeble fists of the sick girl.

He shook her firmly, "Come sister, I have not touched you and neither will I. You are not in your right mind with disease. If you can last the night as chaste queen you shall be. Now stop," his voice cracked with the authority he was accustomed to wield against the rest of the Galadhrim.

She startled and began to cry and cough again. Haldir supported her through the worst of it and she passed into sleep for a moment.

"I do not think she has the strength to live," Rumil said calmly. He was ever the pragmatist, "She is too small, thin. She hasn't eaten or drunk in days it seems."

"Aye," Haldir nodded. He shifted his weight combined with hers so he rested his back against the flets walls. Her skin was beginning to warm against his, but her heartbeat was light and fluttering under his hand.

"If her home was attacked and she fled in haste, there was no time to gather either," he nodded to one of her pale hands restlessly moving across the cloak she wore, "She is not a working girl, but of good birth and rank. Her hands are soft."

"It would appear so," Rumil added a heavy basin of water above the fire and crouched beside his brother and the girl. He pressed his hand against her brow and under her eyelids, "Brother, I don't believe she will have time to tell us her story."

Haldir frowned, "It may. But if she is one of the Dunedain, we must strive to save her life. We hold allegiances with them."

"Old allegiances," Rumil corrected.

"Be that as it may," Haldir said coldly, "We are long lived enough to remember them."

That moment the guard and another arrived in the flet bringing a gust of rain and cold that set the girl shivering again. The healer was tall and board shouldered. He flung his cloak back to reveal a fall of silver hair and deep blue eyes set in a face with a square jaw. Haldir bowed his head in recognition.

"My Lord Celeborn."

"I see you have found a stray," Celeborn remarked with a slight smile, "An ill one at that."

"She bears the ring of Barahir," Haldir spoke low as the tall Elven Lord knelt to examine the woman.

"So I hear," Celeborn murmured. "That is why I came myself."

He checked her pulse, and her mouth and whispered a few instructions to Gault. "She seems nobly born by the look of her."

Haldir nodded feeling her stir away from Celeborn's hands, "She is afraid of being raped," he explained.

Celeborn's eyes met Haldir's in steely acknowledgement, "Her people were attacked then?"

"She says they were all slaughtered by orcs."

"Eru, raped by an orc," Gault whispered.

"She seems untouched," Celeborn observed, "Come Haldir, raise her up, she must have water and medicine."

Haldir leaned forward, cradling her chin in his hand as Celeborn guided the steaming cup to her lips.

"Come little sister," Haldir said softly, "Drink this, twill help you mend."

She managed a sip then another and finished half the cup before sagging back against Haldir in exhaustion.

"That should be enough to ease her coughing and help to bring her fever down," Celeborn said sitting back on his heels, "You did well to strip off her wet clothes."

"I learned that from her own people," Haldir said. She turned her head against his shoulder, her pert mouth breathing hotly against his arm, "Edain perish from the cold so quickly."

"Her own people, I wonder," Celeborn mused running his finger across his lip, "She does not seem to carry the body of the Dunedain. They are tall, full chested and strong. She seems—slight."

"Come Rumil, take Haldir's place, I need him elsewhere now," Celeborn stood to his full height, "We cannot keep her long. If she lives through the night, we will need to move her."

Haldir moved to lay the girl down, but she cried out and grabbed his arms with clutching hands.

"Don't leave me! Don't leave me behind," she cried.

Haldir caught her questing hands and stilled them against his chest, "Come, you must sleep. I will be close at hand. You are safe in Lorien with my guard."

"I am safe with you?" She asked, her blurry eyes watering with tears. One pale hand reached up and touched his face, "Oh! You're so beautiful."

Haldir did not reply, but helped her into Rumil's arms and slid back into his clothing. She was asleep with the effects of the tea Celeborn has given her, and the coughing that had wreaked her frame seemed appeased for the moment. Haldir followed his Lord out into the rain.

The air was still heavy with rain and the cold sharp as new steel. The two elves stood under a slight awning in the shadow of the brightly lite flet. Haldir, shorter by a head, but as broad and muscular as his Lord, looked as near a son as Celeborn could have wished without the blood tie. Yet Haldir's eyes were troubled, and his arms felt strangely empty.

"Well, my beautiful Marchwarden," Celeborn said wryly, "It may be that she lives to see your face again."

"She is delirious," Haldir offered shrugging his cloak on. His Lord noticed the studied lack of emotion in his warden's tone, "What shall we do with her?"

Celeborn glanced at Haldir and observed, not for the first time, the steely gaze that shielded all emotion from the younger elf's face.

"If she lives out the night, the Lady and I would have her brought to a more suitable living space to be cared for until we can discover who her people are. Once we ascertain that, we will deliver her back to her kin. But she must recover first."

"Yes Lord," Haldir glanced back into the flet where Gault and Rumil spoke in hushed tones. His dark eyes searched for clues as to her welfare from where they stood, "She will survive the night?"

Celeborn glanced curiously from the failing girl to Haldir and back again. "It remains to be seen. But it is possible. I will send more supplies and a few maidens to see to her needs until she revives. Until then, send out for more information as to her origins. It may be that some of her kin lived through the attack as well. They might be looking for her even now."

Celeborn adjusted the strap of his healer's bag on his shoulder, "At any rate, Haldir, try and discover her name. If she dies, her people will need to know and the ring returned to the Rangers."

Haldir inclined his head, "I will go myself."

Celeborn laid a heavy hand on Haldir's shoulder, "Go quickly. I do not believe you should be absent long. "

"Lord?" Haldir raised an eyebrow.

Celeborn gave a thin smile, "Just be swift my friend. Every moment is important.

"Aya Lord."

With that, Haldir disappeared into the night, the rain lashing and spitting against him as if it would hinder his every effort. His sent out several pairs of the guard into the dark of night. The beast had been recovered, but yielded no information as to his home or owners. All the Galadhrim had to search on was the ring of Barahir and all that meant was men were involved.

And the girl.

Haldir swallowed passed a hard place in his throat. She was like to die, he knew. But there had been a hardness in her hands as they clutched his, a depth in her eyes that made him hope that she may yet outlast. There was a strange strength in the children of men that had caused them to endure the worst hardship and triumph still.

Haldir realized that he wanted her to live, this ill, nameless child of men.