For Disclaimers and Information, check out Chapter 1.

Special hugs to all my reviewers. You all make it all worth while. (

~~And I know I forgot to in the beginning, but I would like to send a HUGE THANK YOU to my beta, Artuta for all her hard work and putting up with my terrible spelling errors. ( You are the BEST!!~~
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A gasp of surprise caught the March Warden by surprise as he found himself literally face to face with a human female. He stood stunned, transfixed into place, his heart pounding with adrenaline, his mind begging for her stillness to not reveal their location.

The woman's dark green eyes surveyed the scene before her. A tall handsome elf, blond with brilliant blue eyes, square shoulders, and a frightful look upon his face. Then her eyes fell upon the bloodied body in the elf's arms. To the arrow protruding from his back, to the blood staining his clothes and the elf that carried him.

Muffled shouts echoed through the small vale of the men nearing. The sound broke the trance of the two apart.

Gesturing towards a small house on a plain, she said, "Go quickly. Use what you must to help him. I will see if I can deter them."

Haldir blinked furiously, his mind not comprehending the woman's words. She was helping them? She was willing to lie and mislead the men chasing them?

"Hurry!" She said frantically, pointing again at the tiny cottage.

Haldir nodded quickly then took off as fast as he could towards the house, Rúmil groaned softly from the jostling of the retreat. Their figures barely entered the safety of the house before several men were upon the woman, their dogs sniffing the ground and howling.

"Lady Mowaea. Please forgive the intrusion on your lands. We track a pair of escaped prisoners," one of the men said gruffly.

With a raised brow, Mowaea looked the man up and down, sizing him up. "I have been here for several hours. I have seen no escaped prisoners."

"But My Lady, the dogs have led us to this spot. They have passed by here," he countered.

"Do you question my judgment?" Mowaea snapped, her hands coming to her hips. "I have not seen anyone here for a week. Now, if you do not mind, I would like some peace and quiet. Kindly take your loud animals and your men and leave my land."

The man opened his mouth to protest, thought better of it, and then bowed his head. "As you wish." He turned to the men, signaling back from whence they came. "Back to the stream. They could not have gotten far!"

The men disappeared around the bend of the stream as Mowaea made her way back to her home. She opened the door to find the elf standing, clutching his burden to him protectively.

"Please, do not fear," Mowaea said gently. "Place him on the bed and fetch me that lantern." She pointed to a high shelf against the wall where an old lantern and several bottles sat in perfect order.

Haldir regarded the women briefly, then complied, laying Rúmil upon the small bed and hurrying over to fetch the lantern.

Mowaea immediately went to the fallen elf's side, her hands quickly and efficiently inspecting the wound. "It is deep. It will cause him great pain but if it remains, it will cause further harm. It has remained too long already."

Taking a small knife from a drawer at the bedside, she moved over Rúmil when Haldir jumped, his hand latching onto the wrist of the strange woman, his eyes clearly shining with suspicion.

"What are you going to do?" he hissed.

"First I am going to tell you only once to remove your hand. Then I will cut the clothing away from the wound, and clean it for a better look," Mowaea said sternly, not taking notice of the tingling in her hand from lack of circulation from the elf's grip.

Haldir released her hand, nodding his head in acknowledgment.

Mowaea gave the elf a reproachful look then set about her task. She cut the side of Rúmil's tunics, peeling back the fabric to give better room to clean the wound. She used a soft cloth and a basin of water to dab at the arrow still embedded into the stricken elf. Rúmil moaned in his sleep, his breath laboring as he fought against the pain.

When the woman finished she motioned for Haldir to follow her. She went to the bottles lining her shelf and started giving the orders to prepare them according to her recipe. "When you finish with the Bayla plant, grind in a leaf of the athelas, and then hold it over your friend's nose. It will keep him calm and deaden the pain when I remove the arrow."

Haldir's eyes widened at the woman's orders. He barely knew her, let alone trust her with his brothers life! "If you remove it, he will bleed to death!"

Mowaea grabbed a small vial of clear liquid and smiled. "No, he will not. He has lost too much already. This causes the blood to thicken and harden. It will prevent further loss."

"I do not even know you, let alone trust you with Rúmil's life!" Haldir said, his voice rising as the woman glared at him, not something a lot of people dared to do.

"My name is Mowaea and you are a guest in my home. Now that you know my name, now allow me room to help your friend. If not, I fear for his life."

With his lips pursed tightly together, Haldir nodded, his eyes piercing the strange woman.

The two knelt beside the bed, Haldir placing a small cloth dipped in the solution the strange woman ordered him to make, as she garnered a firm grip on the bolt sticking up from the fair beings back.

"Ready?" She whispered.

Haldir nodded, gazing into the semi-closed eyes of his brother. "I believe he sleeps deeply."

Grinding her teeth, Mowaea turned the arrow slightly then jerked it out, her other hand quickly dropping several beads of clear liquid onto the gaping hole. Blood gushed from the wound, staining the area a deep crimson. Rúmil jerked involuntarily, a strangled cry burst from him as his wound was reopened and aggravated.

Haldir growled, his hand automatically pressing down to stave off the flow. "Woman! If he dies then I swear by the Valar you will as well!"

Mowaea glared at the elf, her eyes narrowed down and her hands balled up into fists. "It needs to remain open so infection will not set it and the potion can thicken."

"Elves are not susceptible to infection. We do not suffer from disease or ailments," Haldir said, his brow furrowing as his hands became slick with his brother's blood.

"Well, that is helpful to know," Mowaea said her hands at work on some plants she removed from a wooden box on the table. "It will make the healing go much faster."

"Healing?" Haldir asked, his silver-blue eyes boring into the woman so intensely had she been paying attention, she would have said they impaled her.

But at the moment Mowaea's concentration was on her work, her hands moving gracefully, twisting and adding herbs. When a foul smelling concoction swirled in a bowl, she dipped her fingers inside and motioned Haldir's hand away. "I need to apply this, so move your hand and get me a small towel in that drawer." She motioned to the far room where a large cupboard stood.

Wanting desperately to argue and refuse to leave his brothers' side, Haldir bit back his tongue and obeyed, finding the towel easily and handing it over.

"Good. Now we will apply this again in a few hours. Until then, it needs to stay warm and with slight pressure, so let's wrap it and roll him on his back. That should be enough."

Haldir nodded, helping the woman tend his brother. He sighed in relief as he noticed Rúmil's eyes, glazed over in Elven sleep, though he knew he was still in danger of losing his life. His breath still came in labored gasps and his face was far too pale, even for an elf.

"What did you give him?" Haldir asked when the woman cleaned her hands then went about her normal household chores.

"It was a potion that my mother taught me and I have used for many years."

"Why did you help us?" Haldir stood behind her, his gaze searching out her face.

"I helped you because it was the right thing to do," she answered flatly.

Haldir regarded her with a mixture of curiosity and suspicion.

Mowaea added, "I have always helped people, no matter their race or rank in life. The way I see it, everyone has a right to live and a right to have someone to care for him or her. What of your name Master Elf?"

"Haldir. And that is Rúmil," Haldir said softly, his eyes drifting over to his brother, his mind swirling with a hundred things at once.

Haldir remained silent for a long time, replaying the past few hours over and over. His ankle ached dully and his body fought the fatigue overcoming it.

"You need to rest. You look like you are about to drop," Mowaea said gently.

Haldir started, his eyes glaring at the human woman. It just struck him how tall she was, even for Man's race. She was light of skin and wore her hair loose about her head, its deep auburn tresses waving merrily with her movements. There were a few streaks of silver upon her head, showing the frost of wisdom that she had derived over her years.

'You should have paid more notice! Imagine, letting a stranger tend Rúmil and you did not even look at them!' Haldir chastised himself.

Mowaea seemed to understand the conflict in the elf's eyes because she added hastily, "I feel you dropped your guard and allowed something that you normally would not have. Am I correct?"

Haldir nodded, "I just."

Mowaea cut him off, "You worry over your friend. It is understandable and need not go further than us."

"He is not only my friend, he is also my brother," Haldir said, his face sobering as he gazed at his brother lying motionless. Rúmil's chest rose and fell in shallow breath.

"Your brother." Mowaea repeated, though realization finally dawned. "No wonder you feared so."

Haldir shot Mowaea an angry glare. "I fear nothing and would gladly sacrifice myself for Rúmil!"

If Mowaea noticed the glare she didn't show it. She merely smiled at the glowering elf; "I would not dare question your conviction my elf friend. I am just amazed by your dedication to your kin. I have always heard that elves do not care for one another. They are they heartless and without feeling."

Haldir's jaw nearly dropped to the floor in surprise, but he caught it before it registered. "Of where do you get your information?"

"I have heard many townsfolk talk about the encounters they have with Elves," Mowaea gave Haldir a crooked smile. "And already I have learned first hand that they are likely nothing but colorful rumor."

Mowaea squinted at Rúmil, her eyes trying to see the rise and fall of his chest. She walked over to him, placed her hand delicately over his heart and felt the dull steady beat of his life, though his breathing was shallow and raspy. Her hand tapped slightly in beat with his heart.

Mowaea caressed his brow with her fingers then returned to her small kitchen and the task of making some food.

"He sleeps, but I am worried about his breath. It comes too soft," Mowaea said as she worked over some vegetables.

"I wish the Lady of Light were here. She could help," Haldir said rather louder than what he wanted. He blushed slightly as Mowaea turned to him, a curious look in her eyes.

"Who is she? The Lady that you speak of."

Haldir felt his chest well with pride as he explained. Mowaea listened intently, smiling at the elf that told of his wood and of the Lord and Lady that reside there.

"And they could save your brother?" Mowaea asked softly, watching the elf keeping vigil over his ailing brother.

"They could," Haldir said shortly. He cut his answer short, realizing he said too much already. He couldn't believe he told this strange woman about Lothlorien and his Lord and Lady. He must be more exhausted than he thought.

When Haldir went to move by Rúmil's side, but pain laced up his calf, reminding him of the injured ankle. Inhaling sharply, he gritted his teeth and endured the inconvenience as he hobbled to Rúmil's bedside.

"You are hurt." Mowaea exclaimed. "Why did you not tell me?!"

Haldir kneeled by his brother's bedside and waved a dismissive hand. "I am all right. My brother needs the care more than I."

"I have done all I can for him. The rest is up to him. You on the other hand are in need of aid," Mowaea said, pulling a small wooden chair close by the bed then gestured to it. "Have a seat."

"I am fine," Haldir said matter-of-factly, though in all honesty he would have done just about anything to subdue the terrible ache radiating up his leg and sending his very bones aflame with intense pain.

Mowaea put her hands on her hips, a scowl on her face. "If you do not sit voluntarily, I will use the knock-out potion on you and attend your wounds while you sleep on the floor. Or you can comply and we both will be saved some discomfort. Either way, you will be attended to."

Haldir felt his irritation rise, "How dare you, Human! My brother lies here waning between worlds and you wish to see to a sore ankle? Have you no sense about you?!"

A minute of complete silence fell between the two staring at one another. Finally, Mowaea said gently, "Finished? Have you vented enough or do you wish to insult further?"

Haldir felt his face flush though his anger still boiled beneath the surface, in check for the moment. With a deep sigh to help calm himself, he nodded curtly and seated himself on the chair exhaling a sigh of relief as his weight was taken off his injured ankle.

Mowaea kneeled before the elf and reached for his foot. When she touched the ankle a loud involuntary hiss issued from his lips.

"I am sorry for causing you pain, but if I do not wrap it soon, it will cause you further harm and could possibly worsen," Mowaea said compassionately. She understood the mixed emotions the elf must be feeling now. Being in pain, having a loved one on the brink of death, and contending with having strangers to know of injuries and weakness. She tried to be as gentle as possible, but it took every ounce of the elf's resolve to not flog her for the handling of his injured ankle.

When she was finished removing Haldir's boot, and pulled his leggings up to inspect the injury, she held back a hiss of her own. The ankle was swelled twice the normal size, with bruises coloring the skin in various shades of purple, blue and green. A small lump indicated where the ankle had twisted, holding the weight of the owner and its kin upon itself at an odd angle.

"Oh dear," Mowaea said softly, knowing it would take a long while for the injury to heal.

"It is not bad," Haldir said, trying to sound as if he was used to such hardships. In truth, it only hurt when he put weight on it, so as long as he sat, he was fine.

"You are lucky it is not broken," Mowaea said standing up and going once again to her stash of small bottles. "I need to find an herb that reduces swelling, and then see if I can find a length of material to wrap it properly and give you some support."

Haldir watched the woman go about her preparations and the question formed on his tongue before he could stop it. "Will your mate be upset to find strangers at his home?"

Mowaea froze for a moment then collected herself. "I lost my husband a couple years ago to a sickness I could not cure."

"I am sorry for your loss," Haldir said, placing his hand over his heart.

Mowaea smiled and walked back to the elf, kneeling back down to apply the salve she had mixed onto the ankle and a soft white linen cloth to wrap it with. "My husband would not have been surprised to come home and find those ailing. I have treated many sick and injured in my home. Something of which sometimes brought him great amusement."

"He liked to see ill people at his home?" Haldir quirked a brow, trying desperately to ignore the stinging that clawed at his skin as the salve was applied liberally.

"Oh no, he was never happy to see those in need," Mowaea said, her hands hitting a tender area and causing the elf to jump. "Sorry. My husband liked to see the way I mothered everyone under my care. Which I never thought I did." A light twinkled in her eyes as she spoke.

Haldir grinned; his body relaxing as the salve soaked in and dulled the pain and sensations. He tensed very little as Mowaea wrapped the cloth around it.

"So, you would have helped us, no matter if we are elf kind or human?" Haldir asked when she had finished and rose to bring the elf some food.

"Yes, but the fact is, I really wanted to meet an elf," Mowaea said, handing Haldir a plate.

"You have never met an elf before?" Haldir asked, taking a bite and watching Mowaea pull a chair beside him to enjoy her dinner as well.

"I have heard stories about Elven kind and was always fascinated by them, by you. Though I must admit, I do not know of Elven bodies. I do not know if I can help Rúmil. He may not respond to the same things that we do," Mowaea reached over and touched the elf lightly around the cheek. He felt cool to the touch, but his breath was now coming in slow and steady.

"I pray to the Valar that he returns," Haldir said, his eyes fixed on his brothers' features. "Life would be empty if he were not around."

"Is it true elves are immortal?" Mowaea asked, hoping that it didn't sound to blunt of a question, especially since Rúmil was in such delicate condition.

Haldir looked over at the women, his face seeming to gray, "Elves can die if slain, or of a broken heart. Why do you ask this?"

Mowaea shrugged. "I have always wondered about things that were different. I always heard colorful stories, no doubt embroidered by the ones telling them, and have always wondered what was truth and what was made up. Who better to ask than an Elf?"

Haldir laughed, his mood lightened as he told of his people, their ways, their customs, and of their habits. For several hours the two sat, telling of stories, experiences, and putting to rest several myths and fables about each others' culture. Haldir was stunned several times to hear of some of the falsehoods that were spread by the human population.

And still, Rúmil slept on, guarded carefully by the two at his side, keeping a constant vigil.