Thanks for all the reviews!  I have re-read Tolkien's notes on pronunciation, and as far as I can tell (this matches with my previous pronunciation anyway) "Mithmír" is pronounced mith-meer with a slightly longer "i" sound than normal, note the "ee".  That might be wrong, though, so all corrections welcomed.

Sorry but there'll be no chapter up tomorrow night.  There should be one on Saturday, though.

Please read, review and enjoy!

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Legolas went numb with pain and horror.  He stared with wide eyes at his loved one, his Mithmír.  The comforting arms about her weren't his own as they should be, but those of another man: and be he a brother to her or no, that made jealousy flare in the Elf.  Worst of all were Mithmír's eyes: the surrender in them was absolute, as if she no longer cared what happened to her, and was prepared to let all her decisions be made by others.  He silently willed her to regain the headstrong spirit which he so loved her for.

'Did you not hear the words of Gondor's steward, Elf?'  Asked Faramir coldly.  Mithmír realized with a jolt that she hated his; seeing the two men she loved most – after the death of her father – arguing.  Even her feelings for Aragorn could not rival her intense emotions for these two men.  And here they were, fighting over her...  It was as if she was stricken dumb, however, and she could not move or intervene.  A fair crowd was fathered about them now, watching.

Legolas spoke with quiet urgency directed only at the woman so close to him and yet out of his reach.  'Mithmír.  I would never, ever hurt you.  I swear to you, nín meleth, I didn't know about your father till it was too late, and then I was bound by oath not to tell you…'

'I said go!'  Shouted Faramir, quivering with rage.  He loved Mithmír so much, and he had sworn to himself that he would protect her from all harm.  He would keep his word.

Legolas ignored him, though he was painfully aware of the guards approaching menacingly.  He thought quickly: where is King Aragorn when you need him…?  Aragorn!  That was what he needed to win her back…

'Aragorn knew, and it was he who told me, Lady!  Your father told him not to tell you, Mithmír!  Your father loved you above all else and did not want you to go through the pain caused by watching him die.'

She knew instinctively it was true.  Her father had always been that way: brave, caring and self-sacrificing, always looking out for her first.  She sobbed out loud again, recalling once more how totally she had lost him, now that he was an Elf, and he would never know…

Faramir felt her shudder in his arms.  The movement could almost shatter his heart.  This willful but vulnerable girl held more sway over his heart than any other, except Éowyn.  Thinking of that, how would he tell Mithmír of his new-found love?  It was a problem for later consideration, he decided.

He misinterpreted her newly shed tears for those of grief.  Really they were born of realization, acceptance, and sadness only for the ills now being done in her name.

'If you cannot follow my orders and leave here, Elf, I will have the guards escort you!'

'I can go myself,' replied Legolas, as calm as ever.  He looked once more at Mithmír, the gaze as lingering and physical as any caress.  'Ask King Aragorn, Lady.  He shall tell you the truth of it – if you still have any doubt in your fair heart.'  He bowed deeply and then, with a dismissive nod to the guards, walked out quickly.

Mithmír watched him go.

'Are you alright, my dearest sister?'  Asked Faramir with great concern replacing anger in his gaze.  He turned her around in his arms.

'What do you think, Faramir,' she replied with a tiny flicker of humor.  Then the tears came again.  She nestled up against her great friend, seeking any comfort she could find.  'Did he die peacefully?'  She asked with great worry.

'Yes,' Faramir said truthfully, rocking her slowly in his arms.  'And boldly also.  He wished you all the happiness and love in Arda.'

She smiled weakly.  'Then I must be brave too, and make him proud of me.  It's almost easier to bear, knowing that he made the choice for me not to be told.'

'You believe him?'  Asked Faramir, indicating after the Elf.

Without a moment's hesitation, Mithmír replied, 'yes'.

Faramir looked at her in confusion.  'But I thought…  The way you attacked him…'

'Grief.'  She explained simply, wiping her eyes with the back of her hand, and silently promising, I'll make you proud, daddy dearest.

'Then he really is your… your… lover?  He did not lie?'  He was half-jealous, half-proud.  It felt odd picturing his sister-friend in the arms of that haughty, cold-seeming Elf.

Mithmír's smile was stronger now, and she pulled away to stand tall on her own two feet.  She was a survivor, after all.  'Legolas Thranduil's son does not lie – and especially not to me.'  She winked cheekily, and no tear escaped her eye.  'I acted rashly and without thinking then.  It's my fault you misinterpreted it.'  She blushed.  'Really I don't blame him.  I will talk to Aragorn about it, but nevertheless…  He did not lie.'

In that second Faramir realized his mistake, and that he was in the fault for the resulting showdown between himself and the prince.  'O, Valar!'  He cursed.  'Am I always this thoughtless and rash?'

'No,' replied Mithmír firmly, her mood improving fast.  She wondered where Legolas was.  She wanted to talk to him badly. 'But you do owe Legolas an apology – as do I.'  Her eyes were fry now.  She had finally accepted her loss, though not yet fully come to terms with its full impact.  That event was a long way yet.

'I beg you, sister, talk to me after you have finished with Aragorn,' pleaded Faramir.  'We have not met for so long, and as brother and sister we have much to tell each other…'

Mithmír laughed a little, though she choked on the sound.  Save your tears for when you are alone, she reprimanded herself.  'We shall talk over lunch, then.  But first I ask you a favor: could you please get me a meeting with Aragorn?  It need not be long, but I should like it to be now.'  She smiled faintly.  'They will not let me, a lowly maiden, see him on my own.'

Faramir frowned.  'I shall have to see to "them" and tell them the truth of the matter,' he said in a gruff voice, before cheering up.  'But yes, of course you can see the King.  He should be free now – it's mostly paperwork that he's doing now.'  He made a face.  'I am glad I am a Steward and not a King!'

'And I am glad for that also,' said Mithmír inexplicably, her eyes unfocused as she thought of her love and the pain she had made him feel.

***

Hope you enjoyed it and please review!  I am trying to write the first chapter of those short fics on Mithmír at the moment…  I am experiencing really bad writer's block, though, and it might be a while.  :-)