Part 7 – Discord
Amarië gasped as he dragged her across the grass, his fingers digging into her flesh all the way to the bone. Humiliated and frightened, she tried to pull away, but to no avail. This was not the Haldir who had kissed her or healed her leg of its wound. This was the Marchwarden of the Lothlórien, the Captain of the Galadhrim, an Elf of rank and power who tolerated no disobedience or defiance from his underlings. This was the Elf she had seen in the battle with the Orcs, the one who killed deliberately and without compunction.
"Amarië!" she heard Ennis bellow from behind them. She cast a glance over her shoulder and saw her brother struggling to follow, though Rúmil and Orophin were physically restraining him from doing so. Eru help him if he tried to challenge Haldir right now. In his present mood, the Marchwarden would swat her brother down like an insect, probably with one hand. Still, she would not give Haldir the satisfaction of seeing her fear.
"Unhand me at once!" she demanded, injecting imperiousness into her tone. "You are hurting me!"
He ignored her completely, but instead increased their pace, forcing her to walk faster away from the practice area. His mouth was clenched in a hard line, his eyes fixed straight ahead, as though he could not look at her.
Her apprehension mounted. "Where are you taking me? Answer me, Haldir!"
Still no reply, but they had reached one of the winding staircases that led upwards into the city. Again, she tried to squirm away, this time using her full weight to sag away from him, but he yanked her to her feet.
"You will walk beside me, Amarië, or I will put you over my shoulder as I did before. I do not intend to speak to you here, out in the open. Will you walk or do I have to carry you? What is your choice?" His tone made it clear that there would be no negotiation.
She glared at him, her insides quaking. "I will walk," she said coldly, "but you need not hold on to me."
"Oh, I think I do," he retorted. "I don't trust you to do as you say."
Affronted, she opened her mouth to argue, then changed her mind. She had a great deal to say to him as well, but he was right; this was not the place to do it.
His fingers remained clamped around her upper arm as they mounted the stairs, but at least they no longer caused her pain. Her initial fear was beginning to fade; after all, what could he do to her? It seemed he only meant to take her to task for her failure to reveal her knowledge of his language. Perhaps by the time they reached wherever they were going, he would be calm and reasonable, which would give her an opportunity to take him to task for his mismanagement of his soldiers.
She risked another peek at his face, and decided she was wrong. He was not going to be calm and reasonable, at least not any time soon. Her stomach clenched with nervousness, but she shoved it aside with impatience. A part of her still boiled with anger at what had just transpired between the Elves and men. She did not care what he did or said; she would have her say. It was not likely that he would beat her, but if he did, it would not be the first time in her life. A beating was unpleasant, but it was something she had endured and survived.
They continued mounting steps until they reached the talan where her room was located, their evident destination. Reaching her door, he flung it open and none too gently propelled her inside. She stumbled a little, then turned, facing him with what she hoped appeared to be dignified composure. Despite the pain in her arm, she resisted the urge to rub where he had bruised it.
He shut the door, and looked at her, the lines of his face forbidding. She had never seen his gray eyes so cold, so aloof. It chilled her, that look, so different from the day before when his gaze had been so appreciative, so affable. Something inside her shrank with despair at the realization that he might never again look at her with warmth. Was her deception truly so dreadful? What should she say?
"I see I have angered you," she stated bravely, as he started to walk toward her.
"How observant of you." His tone was caustic.
She lifted her chin and took a tiny step backward. "I can understand that you would be annoyed that I did not tell you I spoke your tongue . . . ."
"Annoyed," he repeated, his voice dangerously soft. "Annoyed is too mild a word for what I feel."
He took another step closer, and she automatically retreated.
"Why do you withdraw? Are you frightened of me?"
She moistened her lips. "No," she lied. "Of course not."
"You should be," he informed her, his gaze raking over her. "My wrath is not easily aroused. Were I to give in to my inclinations as you did to yours, you would be feeling the sting of my hand across your backside right now. Push me further, and it may yet happen."
The very idea made her flush. "I'm not sure what I have done that would warrant such treatment!" she said indignantly.
"Then allow me to tell you," he said, his voice lashing her like a whip. "First, you lied to me, after I asked you not to do so, thus betraying my trust in you."
"I did not lie! You never asked me if I spoke your tongue!"
"A deliberate deception. I spoke of it, and you said nothing. By elven standards, that is a lie. Once more you have made me look a fool, Amarië, and that is one time more than I will permit. Even worse, you have played your game with us all, betrayed everyone's trust. And that is only one of your transgressions," he added, his voice slicing her with its edge.
Despite her resolve to stand her ground, she found herself taking another step backward, only to bump against the wall. "The least of it? You speak in riddles. What else did I do?"
He stopped directly in front of her, placing a hand on either side of her so that she was quite effectively trapped between the wall and his body. "No one, I repeat no one, has ever dared to usurp my authority the way you just did. Even my brothers would not dare to behave so. Do you think me blind and deaf? Do you think me incompetent? I saw what was going on! I had every intention of dealing with the problem on my own terms and at the time of my choosing."
"Well, I had no way of knowing that!" she fired back.
His eyes blazed with sudden fury. "No? My title and position do not suggest that I might know what I am doing? Do you know how old I am? Do you know how long I have held my position as Marchwarden?"
She shook her head, feeling a little sick.
"Nor do you want to know, for it would be beyond your comprehension. Yes, my Elves behaved poorly, and they will answer for it, but your behavior was inexcusable. This is not how things are conducted here in Caras Galadhon. You have much to learn, young half-Elf, and I suggest you start learning them before you make yourself completely unwelcome here."
"For your information, I think you are forgetting that—"
"Oh, I know," he cut in mockingly. "Lord Celeborn is your grandfather and you have rank here. But do not try to pull rank on me, Lady Amarië. I warn you, in an elven civilization, deeds and actions speak far louder than lineage. You have lost much respect today. You will have to work hard to regain it."
She clenched her teeth. "—you are forgetting that I have a responsibility to those men down there. The deeds and actions of your soldiers do your so-called superior civilization no credit. Is it a common practice among Elves to torment and tease those with lesser skill? At least my people were trying their best! They did nothing to deserve such treatment! I do not say you are incompetent, but you should have done something about it immediately."
"With the exception of your brother, your loyalty is wasted on those men you call your people. Do you know they call you a whore?" He spoke this last word in the common tongue, as though there was no Elvish equivalent.
Despite her effort to control her emotions, she could feel her whole body jerk in reaction. "You're being deliberately cruel."
"No, I'm being deliberately honest," he retorted, his tone callous. "Something you may not be too familiar with."
Stung to the quick, she tried to slap him, but he was too fast. With lightning speed his hands clamped to her wrists, pinning them to the wall on either side of her head. "If you ever strike me, it will only be because I let you," he informed her, his voice silky with warning. "Today will not be that day. You have made too many demands upon my kind heart of late."
"Your heart is not so kind at the moment," she said bitterly. "You are hurting me again. Right at this moment, I find you despicable, Haldir of Lórien."
Something changed in his face, as though she had just crossed some line with him that she had not intended. "And if I let you go, what will you do? Use your tricks on me again? Try to manipulate me with your body? Perhaps next time I will allow it. You might like that."
It was too much to bear; the pain in her chest became unbearable. "Go away," she whispered, a lump in her throat. "I hate you."
He released her quite abruptly, stepping away with a small, derisive laugh. "Hate is a strong emotion, Amarië. Is that truly what you feel? I assure you I do not hate you in return." He walked over to the door. "Do not come to the training field again until I give you leave. If you flout me in this, you will regret it."
"And how am I to practice?" she asked, unconsciously rubbing her wrists.
"You will not. Nor will you be given a bow of the Galadhrim as I had intended. You have not earned the right to use it."
xxx
Haldir strode away from Amarië's room with his temper flaring higher than it had in an age. In fact, he could not remember that he had ever been so angry. Was that even the right word for what he felt? The simple word lacked dimension. His emotions were so intense, so convoluted and alien, that in truth he could put no name to them. Nor would he try. He would not waste another thought on that ungrateful, deceitful female!
Galadriel and Celeborn had known that she spoke Elvish, he now realized. That is what they had been hinting at in their usual oblique manner. And as Galadriel had reminded him, Amarië was very young. She had no way of knowing proper behavior; she had not been brought up among the Elves. He had been very hard on her. Perhaps too hard. Yet she spoke their language! How had she learned? There was far more to this story than he knew, more than she had seen fit to reveal. More deceit, more trickery! He would have no part of it. His scowl deepened as he recalled the accusations she had hurled at him. His rage returned, full-force. She deserved to be treated harshly!
He reached the base of the city without meeting anyone he was forced to pause and speak to, but his luck ran out the moment he stepped upon the forest floor. Ferodir was waiting for him, leaning casually against the nearest mellyrn tree as though he had nothing else to do but seek his leisure. However, for once the empath was not smiling, and even looked uncommonly serious.
"You're unhappy," the dark-haired Elf stated, pushing away from the tree.
Haldir paused, regarding his friend sardonically. "You can tell that, can you? You surpass yourself."
Ferodir sketched a bow. "I aim to please," he said, his tone agreeable. "And I can't say I blame you for losing your temper. No more than I can blame Amarië for losing hers."
"No?" Haldir snapped. "Well, I can!"
Still seething, he started to walk away, then turned suddenly, and let loose. "She does not deserve the consideration I have given her! She is ungrateful, untrustworthy, impertinent, quick-tempered, stubborn, deceitful, irrational, foolish . . . " He halted, searching for any other words that might ease his mind with their utterance.
"In short, everything you despise," Ferodir added helpfully.
"Indeed, you have the right of it."
"So why are you unhappy? You have discovered all these fine truths. You have penetrated her secrets. You should be glad for the knowledge."
"I am glad," Haldir assured him emphatically. "More glad than you can know."
"Why? Because you were so close to giving her your heart?"
Haldir laughed scornfully. "My heart? That is an ill-considered joke. All I have given or intended to give was my time and patience. But that has ended."
"I am very glad to hear it."
Haldir nodded, started to walk away once more, then stopped abruptly. "Why do I have the feeling your words hold hidden meaning?"
"I did not intend for my meaning to be hidden. To put it plainly, I am glad because I fancy her myself."
Haldir felt himself grow tense. He opened his mouth to object, then shut it again and clenched his teeth together. "I care not. I have no claim on her." The words were strangely hard to say. "She will lead you a merry dance," he added sourly.
Ferodir's smile widened. "Ah, but you forget how well I dance."
"Then I am surprised you feared to step on my toes. You are not always so considerate."
Ferodir watched Haldir stalk away, his eyes narrowed as he tried in vain to pick up his thoughts. But already the arrogant Elf had erected his internal shields, making it too difficult for Ferodir to reach into his mind. He had quite enjoyed baiting the Marchwarden, an Elf he admired and whose friendship he greatly valued. Still, friendship and loyalty did not prohibit a bit of teasing now and then. Unfortunately, his teasing had not accomplished either of his goals—to lighten Haldir's mood or to help him change his views regarding Amarië. It did not take an empath to see that Haldir suffered. His pride was wounded, and very possibly his heart as well. What to do?
Ferodir sighed. His empathic abilities were so capricious, so unreliable. The Valar had granted him this gift, and only they had the power to modify its strength, which they occasionally did at the most unexpected of moments. For some unknown reason, he had been able to read Amarië from the moment that strange phrase had come into her mind, and in Elvish, no less! To find Elvish words floating in her mind had astonished him.
The bladed tooth. What could it mean?
Shaking his head, he headed for the nearest set of winding stairs. Galadriel was waiting. He expected she would be very interested in what he had to report.
xxx
Amarië lay upon her bed, but she did not weep. Perversely, she kept the ache locked inside, as if its release would bring an admission too painful to accept. She stared at the ceiling with its intricate carvings, painted to look like mellyrn leaves intermingled with pale niphredil. If only she had someone to talk to, but who? Not Lornarië. She was pleasant, but too enamored with the Marchwarden to be sympathetic. Ennis? Nay, he would be training still; at least she hoped he was. Lord Celeborn? She did not dare approach him on her own, at least not yet. And Galadriel was out of the question.
Hours had passed since Haldir had dragged her into this room. No one had come. Did everyone in Caras Galadhon already know what had occurred? Was she in disgrace? Or did they leave her alone to be polite? After all, not all Elves were rude and thoughtless. But perhaps what she had done had put her so far beyond the pale that even the most generous shunned her company. Had she come so close to finding a place to call home only to throw it away? A sob rose in her throat, but she subdued it as she had subdued all the others that had tried to fight their way to the surface.
A knock upon the door roused her from these thoughts. She lifted her head from the pillow, listlessly wondering if it might be better to ignore whoever stood there. But this seemed foolish, and so she rose and went to see.
To her surprise, her visitor was none other than Ferodir. "Greetings, Lady Amarië," he said, making his usual courtly bow. "May I come in?"
She hesitated for an instant, but could think of no good reason to deny him. At least he was a friendly face. "Yes, of course." She stepped aside.
He swept into the room like a monarch, dwarfing everything in it with his vibrant presence. His gaze took in his surroundings, including the tunic and leggings she had worn this morning, discarded in the corner where she had hurled them. "You sound unsure. Do not tell me that I have somehow lost your good opinion."
"Nay, I would rather expect that I had lost yours."
"On the contrary, my opinion of you has elevated." He laughed at her expression. "Unlike many, I appreciate surprises. And your knowledge of the Elvish tongue was quite a large one. As was your method of revealing it."
Embarrassed, she looked away. "That was a mistake on my part. A rather bad one, I fear."
"Even the oldest and wisest of us make mistakes," he pointed out. "In any case, I am delighted we can carry on a real conversation."
She turned to look at him, her attention caught by the non-judgmental delivery of his statements. He really was extraordinarily attractive. Long, dark brown hair framed a face that seemed flawlessly beautiful, unless the slight aquiline curve of his nose could be considered an imperfection. His eyes were the clearest, brightest blue she had ever seen, and in fact reminded her of Galadriel's. His mouth was firm and strong, and seemed to wear a perpetual, rather rakish slant at the corners, as if everything he saw amused him in some secret way. Like the other Elves, he was tall, graceful, and elegant, and had probably broken many hearts—though he would not break hers.
"You are not a Lothlórien Elf, are you?" she asked, then hearing her own question, flushed. "Forgive me. Perhaps that is a rude question. I am beginning to realize how little I know about elven etiquette."
He gave her one his wicked little smiles. "It's unlikely you could say anything that would offend me, my dear. I am not easily shocked. And to answer your question, I am only one-half Lothlórien Elf. My sire resides in Rivendell, and he is also dark of hair. But I did not come here to talk of me."
"Why did you come?" she asked him frankly.
"A just question. I came to offer you my escort. I thought you might want to see your brother."
"Haldir has forbidden me from visiting the training grounds." She hoped he did not notice the slight tremor in her voice. If he did, he gave no sign.
"Training has finished for the day. He did not say you could not visit your brother, did he?"
She shook her head.
"I doubt our Marchwarden will even be there at this time. And I rather fancy you would like to see young Ennis, if only to assure yourself that he survived the day without you. Am I correct?"
"Yes, indeed you are," she answered gratefully. "And I would be most glad of your company. I have been feeling very cowardly since this morning."
He offered her his arm, which she accepted with her first smile of the day.
"I feel I should warn you though," he added as they left her room, "because I always play fair. I mean to enjoy your company to the fullest."
"And what does that mean?" She wondered if he was trying to flirt.
He nodded, the corner his mouth curling. "It means beware. It means you can trust me just a little, but not too much."
xxx
Haldir left the training ground later than expected. He had spent the entire afternoon working with the humans on their swordplay, and it had sorely tried his patience so at the end of it, he had rewarded himself with some relaxing archery practice. As for Ennis, he had had Orophin work with him for the remainder of the day, since the young cub had done nothing but glower blackly at Haldir since he had returned from dealing with Amarië. Ennis had tried to speak to him, but Haldir had ordered him to return to his practice, and Amarië's brother had complied with a look that told him that some sort of confrontation lay ahead.
Haldir had spoken severely to his Elves regarding their conduct. It had been a stern, terse speech of the quality that he seldom had to make, but it had been sufficient. The faces of his soldiers were serious now. There were no more wagers, no more pranks, no more laughter or jests. However, Haldir could not help but wonder how much of the change was due to his reprimand, and how much due to Amarië's revelations about the killing of the humans' neighbors and families. Unlike Haldir, most of the Elves had never left Lothlórien, and therefore had no real understanding of the evil threatening those that resided in other parts in Middle Earth. It did them no harm to learn.
His feet soundlessly flattened fallen mellyrn leaves as he passed the area where the humans made their encampment. The men were settled in various places, recovering from their exertions of the day. He did not see Ennis, a fact that at once put his senses on high alert. He kept walking, his gaze straight ahead, but he knew very well when, a minute later, Amarië's brother stepped out of the shadows behind him.
He expected a sudden rush, an attack meant to catch him off-guard, but instead Ennis called out to him, his voice low and resolute. "Marchwarden! A moment of your time, if you please."
So the cub had principles, did he? Or perhaps he was simply not stupid. Haldir turned and studied him, taking in the young man's determined, rather pugnacious expression. "Are you sure you want to do this?" he asked resignedly.
"You know why I follow you?" Ennis demanded, looking pale.
"You wish to fight me."
"I wish to challenge you! I take offense at your treatment of my sister this morning. You owe her an apology, and you owe me a chance to defend her honor."
Haldir frowned. "Her honor was not in question. Only her judgment."
"Even so." Ennis drew his sword. "Will you grant me the right to do as I feel I must?"
"You are not yet ready to challenge me with a sword. You know this."
"I will take my chances."
Haldir sighed. So foolish these humans were. "Put aside your weapons, and I will put aside mine. I will fight you unarmed. Will that satisfy you?"
Ennis stared at him for a long moment, then nodded. "Aye. But before we start, I would know what you did to her. Where is she? Why did she not return?"
Haldir unbuckled his belt and sword from his waist, then removed his bow and quiver. "I took her to her room, where we exchanged words. I know not where she is at the moment. She did not return because I forbade it. She is not a prisoner," he added dryly.
"This is the truth?" Ennis's blue eyes drilled into him.
"You have my word." Haldir returned the look. "Do you trust the word of an Elf?"
Several seconds passed. "Aye, I'm beginning to think that I do."
xxx
Amarië descended the many steps that led to the forest floor, her arm linked with Ferodir's. She was thankful that she had changed out of her training attire, and did not know if she would ever be able to wear those clothes again without remembering the scene that had taken place. Even now she could not think of it without flinching inwardly.
They had reached the base of the city, and walked only a short distance when the unmistakable sounds of combat reached her ears. Ferodir released her at once and drew his sword; they both hurried forward, rounded the base of a huge mellyrn tree, and came upon Haldir and Ennis, grappling with each other with savage ferocity as they rolled and tussled on the ground. Blood trickled from a cut on her brother's lip, and one of his eyes was swelling.
"Ennis!" She started to hurl herself forward, but Ferodir's scimitar thumped to the ground, and a strong pair of arms held her fast.
"Leave them be," Ferodir instructed in her ear. "Let them fight."
"No! He'll hurt him!" She tried to twist away, and out of old habit more than conscious intent, she lifted her knee in the direction of Ferodir's groin.
Of course, he was too quick for that. "Oh, no you don't," he said, capturing her wrists with a chuckle. "Little warrior." He spun her around, pulling her against him so that her back pressed against his chest, then crossed her arms under her bosom so that his arms also wrapped securely around her. The position thrust her breasts against the rounded neckline of her gown.
"Don't fight me, Amarië. I'm not going to let you go until they finish. Don't you think you've caused enough trouble for one day?"
She struggled to free herself. "Release me at once, Ferodir!"
"Not a chance. Besides, I'm enjoying the view."
Angered by his boldness, she continued to wriggle until, all at once, she noticed a growing stiffness pressed against her backside. Instantly, she ceased her movements.
"Very sensible," he murmured, a laugh in his voice. "That is one of the few things Elves and men have in common. I hope you take it as a compliment."
Amarië did not dignify this with a reply, but instead took in the appalling sight of Haldir's fist crashing into her brother's chin. "He's going to kill him," she moaned.
Ferodir rubbed his cheek against her hair. "Come now, I thought you wiser than that. Haldir merely gives your brother what he wants. He is doing him a favor."
"A favor," she echoed angrily. "How can you call it that? What do you know of favors?"
"A great deal, actually," he whispered. "I know I'd like to have your favors. Unfortunately you aren't meant for me so I fear this will have to be our closest encounter. A touch frustrating for me, but I am well aware you won't mind." He shifted his body so the intimate contact was lost.
She
turned her head to glare at him. "How can you behave so at a time
like this?"
"Hush and look. Your brother just landed a blow
on Haldir's face. Ha, he's bleeding from the nose again. That
should please you."
Quickly, she glanced around, her eyes widening in unexpected shock. It did seem as though Ennis had somehow attained the upper hand. Forgetting Ferodir completely, Amarië winced as Ennis slammed punch after punch into Haldir. Abruptly, her concern shifted to the Marchwarden. What was wrong with him? Had some injury occurred that impeded his ability to defend himself? An unexplained numbness gripped her. Why did it hurt her so much to see him hurt? After the way he had treated her, she should be glad, but instead every muscle in her body had gone rigid with dread. All she could see was Haldir's blood . . . blood . . . What was happening?
"Haldir is being generous," Ferodir explained, squeezing her arm in an oddly comforting manner. "If yon cockerel attacked me, I would not go so easy on him. Our Marchwarden is allowing him to work off some of that youthful energy and rage, and to keep his dignity as well. Ah, that's it then. Haldir's patience wears thin."
Indeed, the upper hand had shifted yet again, for Haldir now held Ennis in a headlock. It was over; Ennis yielded with apparent good humor, and was released.
Both Elf and man were filthy, bloodied, scraped and bruised, but neither exhibited any outward sign of discomfort. Ennis actually grinned and offered his hand, which Haldir accepted, albeit without a smile, and with characteristic elven restraint.
Amarië shook her head, hardly noticing that Ferodir now stood a small distance away. She could barely take it in. Her head ached and her mouth was dry. Trembling, she hovered at the brink of sinking to her knees and bursting into tears. And she did not know why.
At that moment, Ennis turned toward Ferodir and scowled. Evidently, he had seen the way Ferodir had held her against her will.
Ferodir turned his back on Ennis. "Tell him not to even think about it," he said, casually bending over to retrieve his sword from where he had dropped it. "I have not Haldir's patience with hotheaded young mortals." With those words, Ferodir touched her gently on the arm and sauntered off, leaving her alone with her brother and Haldir.
xxx
Haldir was in a foul mood. Although he would heal quickly, the blows he had accepted had hurt, and he enjoyed pain no more than the next person. Avoiding Amarië's gaze, he bent down and retrieved his weapons, resisting the urge to spit out the blood in his mouth. He did not want to see what emotion lay in her eyes, for he imagined he would see disgust, and just now he did not think he could endure it. Slinging his quiver and bow over his shoulder, he ambled off without a backward glance, though it took all his willpower not to turn and look at her as he passed.
He ached, inside and out. Truth to tell, all he wanted at the moment was to be alone, to heal himself, to wash, and to rest and think. Unfortunately, Ferodir was waiting for him when he reached the stairs.
Haldir made no effort to hide his displeasure. "You move fast," he said, and tried to step past the other Elf, but Ferodir did not take the hint.
"I do my poor best," Ferodir replied with his usual mischief. "That was quite a show you put on. And for whose benefit?"
"I know not what you mean." Haldir quickened his steps, but Ferodir kept pace.
"I mean I have never seen you so accommodating. Letting that young mortal thrash you like that. Was it for his sake or hers?"
Haldir grimaced. "Both, as I'm sure you know. It will make things easier."
"She was very worried about you. I thought you'd like to know."
"Was she?" Haldir kept his voice cold.
"I explained to her that you were merely being kind. I don't think she was impressed."
Haldir's jaw tightened.
"Well, I see you do not want my company. Then I shall bid you good evening. I'm off to dine with Lornarië. Any messages? You know how she adores you."
Recognizing Ferodir's veiled meaning, Haldir did not hesitate. "No. No messages."
xxx
Ferodir stood before Galadriel for the second time that day, relating recent events. "And there you have the sum of it, my lady," he finished with deep respect. "I fear things go no better than before."
"They are both headstrong and proud," she said in a reflective voice. "You have done all you can for now, Ferodir. As always, you teach with subtlety. Your lessons will need time to work their magic."
"You are generous to pardon the mischief that I cause in equal part."
"Nay, your mischief does no harm. You are as you are, Ferodir." She smiled, a hint of laughter sparkling in her lovely eyes. "And your own time is fast approaching."
"My time, my lady?" Ferodir lifted his brows in confusion.
She did not enlighten him as to her meaning. "How can I repay you for this day's service?"
"I need no payment, my lady. It was a pleasure. In any case, to gaze upon your beauty is sufficient reward."
Galadriel laughed. "Your humor brings great healing to this world. That, Ferodir, is a priceless gift. The Valar have blessed us all with your presence."
Ferodir bowed again, and took his leave, unable to shake the uneasy feeling that she knew something he did not. Something extremely interesting to him personally.
He could not imagine what it could be.
tbc
