Just to warn you there's implied slash in this chapter. If you don't like it, don't read it, and I'll try to warn everyone at the top of each chapter if there will be any. I understand that many people dislike the idea of homosexual relationships and that's a valid opinion. You can still understand the story while missing out these chapters. Though there will be many it's a side plot. This is a PG-13 story, though, so there'll be no sexual profanity or anything in either hetero- or homosexual relationships. On a rating of one to five, the amount of slash in this chapter is about 2 – it's only references to a couple, no specific details.
Enjoy!
***
It appeared the meeting had been about less important things than Mithmír had thought, at first. Aragorn talked for a long while on things that barely interested her: the state of political affairs in minor lands, the repair work being done in Isenguard, and Celeborn's plans to live in Mirkwood, which were only mildly more interesting – though Legolas listened with particular intensity at that point. It seemed he had heard precious little of the news about his own home; and Mithmír was touched by the sweet, longing, almost homesick look that came into his beloved eyes when Greenwood the Great was spoken of.
Eventually, however, Aragorn did reach what Mithmír innocently saw as the "point" of the conversation. He turned his dark eyes to her, and surveyed her with solemn silence for a good minute. Merry and Pippin wiggled impatiently. Finally, he began to speak.
'Mithmír, my niece… How should you feel to depart from this company earlier than your friends? Before we reach Isenguard?'
Mithmír Rochiwen started. That was hardly what she had been expecting. When she finally answered it was only after having exchanged a silent look with Legolas. 'Not if there's a reason…'
'I assure you, there is,' he replied simply. 'Though it may not sound important to others here, you shall understand it. Galadriel and Celeborn wish you to leave early to be present at the handfasting of two of their most faithful wardens and guards.'
Mithmír realized who he meant near instantly, and mostly because of the term used: "handfasting" was different from marriage in that it was the joining of a homosexual couple. It had exactly the same purpose and meaning and merely the name was different, for some unknown reason. She knew only two guards of the Golden Wood who liked each other enough (though they had not admitted it when she left a year ago) to be handfasted… Her eyes lit up with wonder and joy unlooked for. 'Haldir and Tirathnavir? They are to be handfasted?'
Aragorn smiled a little. He knew the two Elven warriors nearly as well as Mithmír, and had heard much of their progressing relationship from reliable sources. 'Indeed,' he replied. 'Galadriel told me that Haldir proposed the idea but three months ago, and that they were exceptionally quick on deciding that it was in accordance with both of their wishes. Now they intend to be 'fasted in but a month, and you must leave now if even the speed in Brialvastor's hooves shall suffice to get you to the Golden Wood for the date. Celeborn and the Lady feel they should repay their many debts to the two border-guards by sending you with their best wishes to the ceremony.'
Mithmír was still in shock from the suddenness of the news. Somehow she had never imagined Tirathnavir and Haldir sharing anymore than un-admitted love…
***
Many years in the past, in the Golden Wood
Mithmír's bower had been in an exceptionally beautiful mallorn tree that year. It was late in the evening and there was no place she cared to be more than in the little room, high up in the canopy, that she called her own – for now at least. That was where she lay at this moment, on the low couch in one corner, staring down and out over the waist-high rail (for the 'room' had no walls and no ceiling, it was more a platform than anything else) down on the Elves who moved and danced below to some lilting music, refrains of which she heard from time to time. She smiled down at their bliss, knowing her own rivaled with it. There were few places where she was as happy as she was here, in the Golden Wood, with the faint silver light filtering down through the mallorn-boughs to add an ethereal glow to her features and the music of the Elves meeting her ears.
Tirathnavir watched from the entrance to her 'room' as a slow smile spread across her young features. He was smiling softly also, but there was a hint of beautiful sadness in the deep pools of his eyes. He was of yet unknown to her, for he climbed the winding stairs to this place silently, as only an Elf can (or mayhap a Hobbit); but now, before he alerted her to his presence, he watched and judged her mood for a little while. His own mind wandered on other paths also: on the meaning of her mortality, on how he would lose her in maybe only sixty decades by the counting of Men – earlier if battle claimed her. The thought pained him, and he could not bear to ponder on it for long.
'Mithmír Rochiwen?' He said in a calm voice, talking a step forward into the room.
The girl rolled over on the couch, looking startled for barely a second before her features resumed their happy gaze of content. 'Tirathnavir! I didn't hear you… Come sit?' She arranged herself into a sitting position, and patted the couch by her legs which were covered in a long, white dress. The male Elf nodded and did as she asked, leaning forward over her and placing one arm on either side of her slim form. From below him, Mithmír reached up a playful hand to run her fingers through the incredible smoothness of her friend's hair. 'Why did you come?' She asked in a whisper. From the ground far below came a chorus of Elvish laughter, tickling the night breeze.
'To talk,' he replied softly, a flicker of some passionate and barely restrainable emotion crossing his eyes. 'About him.'
'You didn't tell him, did you, Tirathnavir?'
For once the Elf looked lost and unsure. 'No. I tried but…' he searched her look with his eyes. 'I couldn't do it. The way he looked at me…' He shook his head a little softly. 'I don't want to ruin our friendship, Mithmír.'
They talked for a while longer, as they had so many times, before Tirathnavir crept out to go and patrol with Haldir, his beloved, and Marchwarden of Lothlorien.
It would be early the next morning when Haldir came to meet Mithmír to talk on a pressing problem.
***
'I'll go,' she replied firmly after barely a seconds pause, her mind still crowded with memories. She locked her eyes with Legolas' and said to him in reply to his shocked look, 'I'm sorry but I have to go. They're two of my best friends. I'll still meet you in Minas Tirith in two months or so as we planned.'
Legolas' voice was fierce with emotion. He had expected at least another two weeks with her before they separated, and though he had promised himself he would always let her be free, and he had known he would have to make sacrifices for her friends, but he hadn't expected it to be so soon… 'We'll get married then,' he said bitterly. 'And it's fine if you want to leave my company so early.'
Aragorn's look turned angry also, and he spoke to Legolas as friend, King, and uncle of Mithmír. 'Legolas, what makes you say such things? That's completely unfounded and untrue, as you know, and such outbursts are nothing like your normal behavior.'
Legolas turned to Aragorn, and in that second Mithmír saw that maybe the records of Elves having fast tempers were more true than she had believed. The male Elf bowed. 'Then to stop it happening again I shall leave this company until my temper is sweeter.'
And with that he stormed out with never a backwards glance.
