Hello! Sorry for the delay I was on vacation and then had one heck of a time catching up at work! Enjoy Chapter 14! My posts are starting to catch up with my writing. I'm going to have to get down to writing some more new content. Anyway, thanks for joining me and as always thank you to my avid reviewers! You ladies and gents make writing worth it. Knowing I'm entertaining someone with my creative outlet brings me so much happiness! Thanks again. All my love. xoxoxox.

Caras Galadhon was positively ethereal. The border had been incredibly beautiful with its ageless metallic trees glimmering in sun and moon. It had been majestic in its own right but the inner woodland was beautiful beyond anything she had ever seen on Earth. This...this was astounding. There was no place on Earth as lovely as Lothlorien. It was a city of otherworldly allure. Thoroughly integrated into the trees, an intricate web of footbridges and walkways spanned from one mallorn to the next, working as superhighways for its residents. Level upon level curved with the elegant flow of the branches of the great golden trees that made Lothlorien renowned. Pavilions stretched along the forest floor; their high arches were just as much a part of the natural landscape as the trees themselves.

Magic and power throbbed in the air; it glowed in a crystalline blue haze.

Her gaze wandered higher and higher, dizzyingly, she spun in slow circles and took in the exquisite allure of the elven city.

The early morning hour saw elves busily carrying linens and carting food from one pavilion to the next. Their busy hands arranged fruits and vegetables for the day's market. Was it possible for the fruit and vegetables to be more vibrant than she remembered? For the sweet smell of strawberries to scent the air so thoroughly and tickle her nose invitingly? How could it smell so good here? Just clean, fresh mountain air. There was even a hint of breakfast in the air. How? How was it so perfect and neat when there were clearly thousands that called this forest home?

There were dozens of elves and seemingly more every minute. They appeared as if by magic, talking in low refined voices. Wardens in uniform, fine-boned women in dresses and more practical long blouses with leggings, men in stately tunics, and some relaxed linen. The reserve soldiers Haldir had called to the border were gathering and nearly ready to depart. Effective and efficient as always. Fair hair, in differing shades of silver and gold with smooth milk pale skin, seemed to be the standard amongst Haldir's people. All of them were much taller than her and more elegant than any collective people had a right to be.

She'd never felt so significantly out of place in all her life. Natasha was, in nearly every conceivable fashion, different. With the sharp eyes all elves possessed, she had no doubt she would draw everyone's unfortunate attention.

Whatever Natasha had thought she'd expected before, it hadn't been this.

Nat had wanted to do her part and save Lothlorien from the darkness that was encroaching upon their world. A darkness that was well poised to wipe out everything that was good and beautiful. But now, after she'd seen it, smelled, and touched it...how could she not do everything in her power to preserve this place?

"Natasha?" It was Haldir that brought her out of her fascinated stupor. Her eyes darted to him, a few steps up a wraparound stairway leading up into the trees. She'd fallen behind him and he...he looked stunning with his aura casting him in vivid light. He belonged here among the ancient deep-rooted trees.

She wanted to say as much to him. Tell him of the glorious awestruck wonder that was overwhelming her but the words failed and all she could manage was noiseless openmouthed air. Nat wanted to assure him that she would do all that she could to defend his home and his people. Instead, she watched as he tracked back down the stairs and came to rest by her side.

He understood her delay now. "Lothlorien is a jewel amongst the elven realms. I have become accustomed to its splendor and at times forget to appreciate it."

His people so seldomly hosted strangers and even more rarely, mortals, he'd forgotten the effect the city could have on those unaccustomed to elven culture. Haldir cast a sidelong glance and caught a sparkle of the magic that was his people and his home in her eye. The wonder in her expression had him, for the first time, appreciating the newness of the world through mortal eyes. On instinct he let the stream of consciousness between them flow in a trickling ebb so that he could experience it with her as if it were for the first time. It delighted him on a deeply personal level to know how truly she was affected by it. Any doubt that had formed was wiped clean at that moment and he knew her loyalty and dedication were absolute. As was his. She would do everything in her power, everything she was capable of, to defend his home.

Hesitantly, he gripped her elbow, a nudge of encouragement to move on. The solid contact sent an uncomfortable amount of awareness jolting through his system. His thumb remembered the silken texture of her skin beneath the fabric that separated them. How could such a simple thing draw his attention so thoroughly?

"The Lady Galadriel will see us now." Galadriel hadn't spoken to him, but he knew she waited. She would have time to rest and bathe later. He promised himself the time to take her on a tour of the city, for himself as much as for her. Haldir had a feeling he would enjoy the experience as much as she. For now, he would escort her into the inner sanctum that was the ancient power and might of Lothlorien. A small kernel of guilt flared in his belly. He hadn't prepared Natasha for what awaited her at the top of those familiar winding stairs. If his interaction with Galadriel the morning past was any indication; Natasha was in for a challenging exchange.

Galadriel had ruled Lothlorien for thousands of years with a fair and even hand. She was beauty and power, sheathed in a skin that seemed barely capable of containing her splendor. She was the might that protected this realm. No one arrived or departed without her expressly given consent. She knew all, saw all, and was wise beyond comparison; although she was fair she was not always kind. Galadriel could be ruthlessly acute when the situation warranted.

The other morning he'd endured a small taste of that power. She'd properly berated him for his conduct with their newest guest. How could he have been so negligent? He still didn't have a sufficient answer. It was reckless and his conduct regarding Natasha favored on borderline boorish. She hadn't even known what he was doing; she'd been too far gone to consent. He had followed his instincts. They had never before led him falsely. A hopeful part of him still believed they hadn't. Regardless he knew he had a lot of explaining to do but there was little time for him to fully contemplate such matters with the attention they required to be properly put to rest. War was upon them. His people needed him. His guilt and personal inclinations could wait.

They rounded the last curve of stairs together. The landing opened out into a wide smooth expanse. The elegant archways that had followed the line of the stairs curved upward into the canopy as if the branches had reached down and formed the fine woodwork all on their own. There, amongst their refinement, was a woman more radiant than the rising sun. Her golden hair was unbound and hung in long waves to her waist. Dressed in white, her gown sparkled with the metallic sheen of finely woven silver thread. Willow slim and just as tall, Nat easily concluded she stood a solid seven inches over her, nearly as tall as Haldir. She stood arm in arm with an equally exquisite male. They made a stately pair.

"Welcome, Natalia Alianovna Romanoff to Lothlorien." It was the male beside Galadriel that spoke. His words echoed deep and low. Their simple vibrato held purpose and power.

Haldir greeted them with the sharp snap of his heels, fist across his chest, and a low bow of his head. Regimented manners. She knew them. She'd been exposed to more kings and queens, princes and princesses, duchesses and dukes than she cared to remember. She knew the protocol. Nat simply chose to ignore it the vast majority of the time. She had learned long ago that you weren't born owing anyone respect. Someone worth bowing to would earn it.

"A noteworthy sentiment." Galadriel eyed her carefully, "Time will reveal if we both shall live up to it."

Natasha knew she hadn't spoken out loud, which meant in the heart of this elven realm where magic ran as deep as the rooted forest, Galadriel had used her prowess to read her mind. It certainly wasn't the first time her privacy had been invaded and it most likely wouldn't be the last.

Galadriel's bare feet peeked out from beneath the hem of her gown as she approached curiously. Nat could feel it now that she was aware of the mental prodding. It was more subtle than what she experienced with Haldir but she would put money on the fact that, like any finely honed skill, Galadriel had practiced her's plenty.

"You bring great power here, ageless and raw." Galadriel circled her. She was being weighed and measured by the elven female. "There is darkness in you. I recognized it the first moment I saw you."

A darkness that had been formed long ago, in the hardened parts of her. Years of pain and punishment would do that.

"I don't pretend otherwise. I know what I am." Nat had handled the cruel beast inside her for decades. Even now as her temper was inclined to flash at the mental intrusion she held herself at bay. A spike of irritation would do her no good. Nat had always had a tight rein over herself in her adult life. She knew her own limits and the work it took to maintain balance. The work helped keep her focused and gave her mind a challenging outlet. Her body was used to the rigors of hard training, when the coiled tension in her spine became too much she would hit the training center until she dropped from exhaustion. She could handle herself and always had.

"What you harbor within does not concern me. The dark lord Sauron has touched your mind; it is his impression that I recognize. The smudge of his magic blurs you from the full scope of my sight." The elven woman narrowed her eyes as she speculated, "That you have shielded yourself from his corruption is a testament to your strength. Tell me how this came to pass."

Nat didn't spare Haldir a sideways glance as she explained to her in great detail what had happened in Isengard. She gave her report as she had been trained to. Fury had always wanted them to be thoroughly detailed. Her eidetic memory was a crucial tool in those moments as there had never been a need for her to actively remember the details. She could simply call up the event, play it like a movie reel in her head, and relay everything there was to tell down to the shoe size and color of her adversaries.

"In the days that followed my mental recovery was rather slow. My reflexes were compromised, my emotional stability was in complete shambles. At times my most basic motor functions were implicated. If it hadn't been for the kindness of your Marchwarden I think my recovery would have taken much longer. After his intervention, I recovered rather quickly."

Galadriel's gaze shot like a bolt to Haldir. "You failed to inform me of these circumstances when last we met."

"The circumstances that induced my actions seemed insignificant to the consequences that developed."

Natasha's gaze and body turned to him in surprise. Had he been so distraught over the change between them that he had counseled with her about his private affairs?

"Your affairs are not so private when they concern the security and safety of my realm."

Nat bristled. "What does one have to do with the other?"

The reply snapped like a whip. "Haldir has tethered himself to you deeply enough that his strength of mind and natural gifts have shielded you from the worst of Sauron's dark magic. He has protected you from the first moment it began" Galadriel studied him more closely, "Normally such a connection takes little effort to control but you exceed much, far too much, in managing it. The headaches and tension, the visions and dreams you've shared, all are a direct result of your connection and the residual dark magic that threatens to corrupt it. Little by little it will wear you down both physically and mentally until you are no more than a puppet on a string. It is the same as he did to Theoden."

"Then how do we break it?" Nat wanted no part in hurting him. He'd suffered much recently and she refused to be a part of that suffering. She would take no part in compromising his future or the future of his people. They could do nothing further until the risk was eliminated.

"What is done between us can not be undone." Haldir said quietly, shame peppering his voice. He had overstepped grievously into her life and now his too was compromised.

"But you said…"

"I know what I said." He looked at her now, really looked at the remarkable angles and contours of the woman who would spend the rest of her life span connected to him and although the guilt of his actions ate at him in ravenous mouthfuls he had only one regret. "But I did not know then what I know now. I wanted to explain, I still want to explain. Privately."

She held his eyes long enough to read all that he had not said and swallowed at its intensity.

Nat shot her question back at Galadriel. "There must be some way to cleanse the dark magic from me. I won't have him inside me compromising everything we do and think." She wouldn't have it compromise Haldir and the protection he offered this realm. The very safety of his people was at stake.

"His hold is not so strong that he sees and knows as you do. He has only just begun the process of marking you with his magic; the process takes time. Sauron struck when you were at your weakest and most vulnerable. He will not be so successful in the future. There are ways to filter through your mind and sort through the damage but it will be...painful and invasive." Galadriel offered. Her magic was powered by the light of Earendil and channeled through her ancient ring Nenya, dark magic of any kind could never hide from her gifts. She would wipe every shred of Sauron from Middle Earth even if it was the last act she ever committed. She would leave these shores better than she had found them.

"How soon can we do it?" Pain was a dear old friend of hers, no need to delay the reunion. This would be nothing new.

"Soon. I will need time to prepare. Two hours should be sufficient."

Nat nodded her agreement. "My memories aren't pretty." She warned. How could this beautifully delicate woman handle the full weight of decades spent in violence? The Red Room destroyed more than it produced and there was no telling how far or how deep they'd venture in to rid her of Sauron's dark magic.

"There are things that I've experienced that will disturb you. Things that I've done…" That would make you sick, Nat finished the thought silently. "I'm not the woman I once was."

"What you were and who you have become are two very different women." She circled back to stand beside her husband. Her elegant hand rose to encircle her mate's arm. She bore herself with easy grace but her long fine-boned wrist was tense as she held it still with effort. Her fingers trembled before she could tighten her grip to anchor herself.

Their eyes met and held.

Her gaze, ageless and deep as the black of space revealed her trepidation.

"Two hours," Galadriel repeated.

"Two hours." Nat echoed and watched her retreat soundlessly.

Nat followed blindly in Haldir's wake, taking the stairs one at a time. She stared at his back as he walked. The smooth muscles beneath his shirt were clenched tight. He held all his tension in the wide expanse of his shoulders. The responsibility to his people. The fate of Lothlorien. The guardianship of the realm...and now her draped like a mantle of duty over them. He had burdened himself with the effort of protecting her. Not that he'd known it any more than she but she refused to be an added weight onto his already over laden shoulders. Therefore she had to follow through with the mental expungement for his sake as well as her own. Without it, she would be risking both their lives and the safety of his people. If Sauron knew she had the stone...if he knew just how close the ring was to being destroyed, the damage to their cause would be irreparable.

If Nat was interpreting correctly, Galadriel would shortly be walking through the deepest, darkest, stretches of her mind. The slight tremble in her hand indicated that she had a vague idea of what awaited her. Nat had lived through it and at times was haunted by her memories in sleep but to share all that she'd experienced with another, for someone to bear witness to a lifetime of torment and brutality, she didn't quite know how Galadriel would endure it.

She stopped cold on the bottom stair. "She's terrified."

Haldir paused mid-step and turned, "Excuse me?"

"She's terrified of me." Blowing out a deep breath she ran a delicate hand over the tight coil of her hair. "I'm a trained assassin in possession of the single most unpredictable magic in existence and some paranoid murderous wizard with visions of grandeur is trying to mind-meld with me. And she...she has to camp out in my brain and sort through the mess."

Nat stepped off the last stair and began to pace. "Do you have any idea the shit I've been, wait...of course you do...you had a small taste of it."

His stomach clenched tight. That was a small taste? The horrendous torture he'd experienced with her had been a small taste?

She laughed, cruel and bitter, "And you." Nat paused in her pacing long enough to catch his eye. "What will this do to you? Will you suffer more for the kindness you showed me?"

"I can not say what will come of this. What happens between us will remain in my confidence and that of the lady and her husband."

"Your confidence?" She said quietly, "You think I'm worried about what you'll think of me? What others might think of me? Haldir that's the least of my concerns." She was already pacing again. Her feet busily burning off the worry that threatened her. "My memories are a flawless rendition of a life I've spent spilling blood. At any other time in my life, this would be a massive compromise to global security. There isn't a single country in the civilized world that I haven't worked for in one capacity or another. There are safe houses, coordinates, codes, combinations, account numbers and."

Haldir gripped her shoulders in a powerful hold. "Stop Natasha, just stop for a moment and look at me."

When she did, she found that she couldn't look away.

"I would never betray you. I give you my word."

She closed her eyes as her past rose up to assault her. Her deepest regrets. Her most well-guarded secrets. No, he wouldn't betray her but she had betrayed herself more times than she could count. Nat had betrayed her country, her friends, her superiors...she wasn't above betrayal but Haldir was, unquestionably.

"I've tried to kill myself." Nat opened them as a strong breath left her lungs and met his horrified blue gaze.

"More than once." Impatient, she shook her head. "I fantasized about it, obsessed over it until I designed the most effective and painless way to accomplish it."

The anger inside him turned to dry-mouthed shock. Shaken to the bone he couldn't bring himself to speak.

"I looked in the mirror, day in and day out, and saw someone so heartbreakingly miserable...it was killing me. I was only a tool, nothing more, and I wanted to be me again, to claim myself back from the autocrats who owned me. The worst part was my only concern over the matter was that I was being wasteful. That's what weighed on me the most." She laughed again at the irony. She'd been so smart and such an idiot at the same time. "The very thought that I was wasting a useful resource had me waffling on it for weeks. I was already too well programmed. I looked at myself as their commodity." Nat swallowed hard. The very idea of possibly living through those moments again with someone watching, someone experiencing what she experienced, mortified her on the most basic level of self-preservation.

Chilled to the furthest reaches of his soul he managed to take a steady breath before he went on. "How old were you? How old were you when you…"

She said calmly. "The first time? Fourteen. A dangerous age, all those hormones to deal with. When I failed, I locked myself into my schedule, secluded myself, but that was just a different kind of suicide." She took a long shuddering breath.

"I see." as much, he supposed, as he could through a solid wall. He could hardly believe that this beautifully vibrant woman who had proven her strength and loyalty had considered ending her life. He didn't want to consider a world without her in it; he had already revolved around the sun a time too many without her.

"That's not even the worst of it." She murmured, rubbing hands over her face in frustration before stuffing them into her pockets. With great determination, she met his troubled gaze. "I don't want either of you to be hurt by this." Nat couldn't stomach the thought of a lifetime of her emotional trauma being thrust upon them.

"I know your life has not been an easy one; that you have experienced and committed acts that you believe I will find repulsive or offensive. I know not what else to say but that I do not expect to emerge unscathed from the trials that lay ahead." His hands gentled to support. What was there to do but offer his companionship. "But you are no longer alone...You couldn't be rid of me now if you tried."

He wanted to comfort her. She was real and solid beneath his hands, each breath she took was a gift. It grieved him that she had ever been so desperately alone. Alone enough that she had nearly taken her own life. What kind of life had driven such a resilient woman toward death? He could not feel pity for her, not when she stood so firmly before him with a wild torrent of emotion playing across her face. She was strong and brave...and complicated, but she was opening to him now and quicker than he had anticipated. The memory of her with the Barton's came to mind and he was grateful to them for finding her, for taking her in and giving her a family.

"So this." She motioned between them. "Is really a permanent thing?"

He gave her shoulders a lingering stroke; his hands faded away over her biceps and smoothly wrapped her arm over the top of his. Gently he guided her back to the path they'd been on before her outburst confession. He steeled himself against the need to feel her skin on his and settled for the warmth of her hand through his sleeve. It was good to see her composed again.

"It is." The concept didn't terrify him as much as it had at the beginning. By no means was the situation between them simple but they would learn to navigate the complexities of it together.

The finality of his statement gave her pause. "And you're ok with that?"

"I'm learning to live with the idea."

He glanced around at the passing elves and gave an informal wave to his sister in marriage across the pavilions in the market; Haldir's younger brother was at her side. Aerin elbowed her husband before enthusiastically returning Haldir's greeting from afar. They were an unusual pair, the both of them uniquely eccentric and yet they fit together as smoothly as if they'd been cut from the same cloth. Despite being struck, Rumil turned and smiled down at his wife with genuine affection. His gaze followed hers to Haldir and then dropped down to the woman at his side. Haldir knew the instant Rumil recognized Natasha. He had shared with his family what he could of Helm's Deep and the woman who had fought to save their brother's life. He would have some explaining to do to his family soon...very soon.

Nat grinned up at him with just a hint of amusement at the casual exchange and downright friendly expression on his usually grimly handsome face. He was different once you got under the layers of armor and thickened skin.

"What?" He asked quietly, with the subtle perk of an eyebrow.

"Nothing." She responded as she continued to follow his lead. Yeah, that was a lie. It was everything.