Disclaimer: *Looks up from playing with Legolas, a wicked grin on her face* Well, as the black eye Jamie is sporting for trying to take my Leggy can show you, it isn't wise to mess with me. However, is also isn't wise to believe that we own the LOTR empire, or that we will make any money off of this.

A/N: We should be close to being on schedule again with our updates. For the latest info, join our Yahoo! Group. Also, Andy has written a LOVELY vignette from Elladan's POV, that I will only be posting on out Yahoo! Group, as it isn't necessary for this part of our girl's saga. So, look up my ff.net ID, and click on the link to our group.

Review Replies: I would love to give individual replies, but I will have to do it as a separate chapter. I am boggled down with five writing commitments right now, and one of them is a Novel due on the 30th! LoL But, as usual, thanks SO much for all the warm an fuzzy replies, you guys have made my first fanfiction posting worth while! Hope you enjoy, and hope you read our sequel, which, will be up in two weeks.

Part 13

It had been a frosty morning, but with the sun shining through the trees and warming the skin against the biting breeze. Elves paid little heed to this, as they meandered along pathways, either alone or on the arm of a loved one. Mortals – the few that were there – were shivering, cloaks wrapped tightly around them.

The sun seemed to be a white glare, frowning upon the Elven town below. The browning trees and falling leaves were caught in its wrath, the wind spiralling the leaves off to another destination, as though whipping them away for a clandestine affair.

Winter was approaching – so prominent, you could even smell its coming upon the air. The cold did not affect Elves to the extent it did mortals, but they could still gauge the chill.

Were I mortal, I would be shivering too.

Perhaps I felt the cold more now because I had left my bed and my lady behind. Perhaps I felt cold because she was no longer braiding my hair, but going to speak to her grandfather, whilst I went to see her father.

Perhaps I feared the meeting with her father?

Slightly.

I admitted to myself that I was worried that her notoriously fickle Ada would not think me good enough to be of the line of Imladris. I wondered what agony he would attempt to put me through – if he would test me.

I would not put it past him.

I was going to face Elladan, because I wanted the hand of his daughter, Tyrael. I had not spoken openly of marriage as of yet, but I planned to today. I would formally ask the 'pixie', as I had once called him, for Tyrael's hand. I prayed to the Valar that he would accept.

The archery ranges were in sight, with some Elves gathered there, some practising, some teaching – some even making wagers on who could hit the furthest target in the bullseye. Elladan was speaking to a tall, dark-haired Elf that I recognised as Erestor, who leaned casually upon his bow, his eyes upon an Elven maiden who was aiming at a target, another Elf attempting to position her properly.

This did not work – for the maiden was apparently so intoxicated by the Elf's nearness, that when she released the arrow…well, let us say that a yelping Elf was helped towards the healing houses clutching his buttocks.

Elladan, amidst attempting to hold in his laughter and not exactly succeeding, eventually spotted me as I made my way toward him. Preparing myself for the task ahead. I told myself that he was just like Tyrael, that he would be won over. Although, of course, I could not really drop my leggings to win him over. The mere thought of that made me want to retreat to the opposite side of the world.

"Ah, March Warden," Elladan greeted, bowing his head and placing his fist over his heart. "Good morning to you."

"And you, Elladan," I replied, returning the gesture, but raising an eyebrow at him. Such formalities from him were suspicious indeed. He merely grinned.

"Erestor," I greeted. "Too long has it been since I last challenged you."

Tyrael believed me cocky and arrogant. She said I had a stick up my rear, that my ego would most likely prevent my head from fitting through doorways were she not there to deflate it once in a while. Well, if she believed me that bad, I would love to hear her opinions on Erestor.

The Elf believed himself Eru's gift to elleths, a truly important Elf – which, in some ways, he was. But he was not the best thing since Manwë.

"Aye," Erestor nodded, bowing his head in greeting. His tone was clear and precise, his illusions of superiority obvious in his voice. "I had begun to believe you feared to be beaten."

"I shall admit you have me beaten in some areas," I replied. Such as the size of the stick up your rear, I thought with an inner snigger. "Yet I fear that you paint yourself gold in others."

"And you do not?"

"I am naturally gold,  mellon," I replied.

Elladan, who had been silent throughout our exchange, bit his lip to hold in his laughter, swallowed rapidly as Erestor glared. Eventually, shaking his dark head, Elladan turned to me, his blue eyes twinkling.

"For millennia I have known you, Haldir," he chuckled. "And you never change."

"You would be surprised," I said, and cleared my throat. "I came to discuss Tyrael…"

"Who is Tyrael?" Erestor asked, as he shouldered his bow, preparing to leave Elladan and myself alone.

"My daughter," Elladan replied, beaming, and I was warmed by the pride I saw in his eyes. He had not known Tyrael as his own flesh and blood for long, but he was already a proud father, who obviously only wanted the best for his little girl.

Erestor looked at Elladan as though a Balrog had just crawled from his rear.

"Daughter? You have a daughter?"  When Elladan nodded, he clenched his jaw and frowned darkly. "Nobody ever tells me anything! I do not know why I do not resign!"

He stalked away, muttering about secret daughters and false occupation descriptions.

"And Tyrael says I am bad," I snorted.

Elladan chuckled, before turning towards me. "Shall we begin, March Warden? Are you ready to be beaten by my outstanding skill? My accuracy and dexterity are unsurpassed."

"Aye," I said dryly, taking my bow into my hands, where it belonged and felt truly right. "You are so great in your skill that you missed the target completely last time."

Elladan frowned, and glanced around. "Speaking of that incident – you do not see the wench from the bakery, do you? I do not think I could stand the trauma a second time."

I sympathised. 'Twas truly a sad thing when a maiden allowed herself degradation of both honour and hygiene.

"Nay, she is nowhere near," I replied. "For on my way here, I saw her entering a building with one of the Mirkwood sentinels."

Elladan shuddered. "How can they stand it?" With a sigh, he prepared his bow, tugging on the string experimentally.

"They most likely block their noses," I replied, and we both laughed, imagining the Elves pegging their noses before bedding the rather unsavoury maiden.

Thinking of pegs brought my mind back to Tyrael, when I had seen her pegging out the prince's washing. How she had caught her foot in the basket and pitched into some nearby bushes – thankfully not thorny. I had run off – far enough so that she could not hear when I doubled over laughing.

Elladan nocked his bow with an arrow. "Shall I go first, Haldir? Or do you fear that you shall not meet expectances?"

I sensed that his words had a double meaning. I would have to tread carefully. "You may go first, Elladan. But remember – pride comes before the fall."

Elladan gave me a that-is-rich-coming-from-you look, before he pulled the string back, aiming at the target with a keen eye. He let the string go in a flash, and I watched as the arrow hit the bullseye neatly.

He had been practising.

I too nocked my bow – my beautiful bow of the Galadhrim. The bow had been with me since I had been made March Warden – it had been specially made for me by the Lady, and had my name carved into the design on the wood in Silvan. The bow had been presented to me as I knelt on one knee before my Lord and Lady, receiving my title before all of Lothlórien, feeling so pleased that my efforts had been noticed.

The bow had been with me through many skirmishes against Orcs and other foul beasts that did not belong in the world – should not have tainted the land and those who lived in it. Now, this bow would be with me through a new sort of skirmish – the skirmish of trying to win a lady's heart.

I aimed, sighting down the arrow, before releasing it. It landed right next to Elladan's in the centre of the target.

"Very good," Elladan nodded. "You aim true. But do you always?"

I turned to frown at him slightly. "Your words have much meaning, and though I feel that I may understand them, I would prefer for you to explain to me your thoughts."

The dark-haired Elf turned fiery blue eyes on me, his lips curving. "How perceptive of you, Haldir. It proves Tyrael wrong – Legolas is not the only one who thinks with the head that lies above the shoulders."

He nocked his bow, a thoughtful expression mixing with the playful one. It was an odd expression, but one that suited the son of Elrond – and what was more, his and Tyrael's resemblance was all the more prominent. She had pulled that same expression only last night, when we were together. I smiled at the memory, remembering our intimate touches.

"If you believed that I thought her no more than the proverbial roll in the hay, then you were greatly mistaken," I said, watching as he let the arrow fly, once again finding its target easily, hitting the centre with a dull thwack.

"That comforts me," Elladan replied, his eyes still on the target as he lowered his bow. "Yet I would know how serious you are. I may not have known until recently that the little girl I held when she scraped her knee was my daughter, but that does not necessarily matter. I suppose…I suppose that even back then, I felt fatherly towards her. I saw her often as she grew up. It pained me to see her moved to the kitchens when Layadwen no longer wanted her under her roof, and by now, she was a woman – into her five hundreds at least. She was old enough to take care of herself – I told myself she would not wish for my fussing."

I listened to his words, stunned at the newfound maturity that came from this notorious prankster.

"Layadwen?" I asked, as I prepared another arrow.

"The elleth who cared for Tyrael whilst Orevon was away, and for a short time after he passed to the Halls of Mandos. They did not get on – all could see this. Layadwen placed Tyrael under my father's charge, in the kitchens, where she remained until now."

I nodded, inwardly asking myself just how much Tyrael had not revealed to me about her life, her past.

"I understand," I said, aiming the bow at the target. "I have not known Kalia for long, but already, she is my family – almost a daughter to me. It need not be known that they are a blood relation for you to love them as your own."

Elladan nodded, and I let my arrow fly, landing next to his once more. Neither of us was really caring about the scores – that much was obvious. We had simply used this chance to speak about important issues involving a hellcat and myself.

"What are your intentions to my daughter, Haldir?" He asked bluntly, fixing those unearthly eyes upon me. "I would know. She may be strong, but I would still feel comfortable knowing she is safe from hurt."

A look washed over his eyes, and I knew that he remembered Ava, Tyrael's mother. I knew then that he would know no other – never would. He would forever be alone, away from the light of love. All he had from his affair was a daughter, one who he had come to care for very much, and he wanted to make certain that she would not be pulled too far from his grasp, that she would not endure pain at her lover's hands.

My hands.

I was fully prepared to voice myself openly. "I love Tyrael. I have done since I saw her in the line-up of servants on that first day. I do not care that she can be anything but sweet, I do not care that she has your sense of humour –" Elladan squeaked indignantly "– and I even do not care that she has kept certain things shadowed from me, although I hope to remedy this. Although I must admit I find it rather horrid when she drinks grapefruit juice without sweetening – that is too bitter even for me! But…she told me she loves me as well."  I took a breath. "As insane as she can be, I would have no other. And I would ask for her hand in marriage, and with your blessing."

Elladan studied me silently. I found that I had grown impatient of people studying me so – I was rapidly growing paranoid, which would not be a good thing for a March Warden.

"I sense truth behind your words," Elladan said. "And, despite the fact that you two are worse then a pair of conies, I know you are not simply using her."

I flushed slightly. Had we been so obvious?

"Yet," he continued, "my newfound fatherly worries are not so eased. I would set you a task, March Warden, and if you are sincere, you would carry it out without fail."

I knew it. I knew he would do this. Although, I had to admit – he was being much more courteous than I had expected. And would I not do the same? For Kalia or any of my future children?

I would marry Tyrael.

"What is this task, mellon?"

Elladan drew himself up, and I saw the twinkle in his eye. I felt my nerves tighten in anticipation.

"Tell me…when do you plan on marrying her?"

I paused slightly, biting my lip. "I…I sent word home about my plans. My father shall be arriving in a month. I feel that I should arrange the wedding then."

Elladan raised an eyebrow. "My, my. Were you planning this, by any chance? Were you confident I would agree?"

"Nay," I replied, feeling uncomfortable. "I did see plans for a wedding in the near future, but it was not my intention when I wrote the letter. I merely sent word to my Adar as a promised I would. I spoke to him of his granddaughter, Kalia, and of Tyrael – I knew that if I did not, he would only hear it from Rúmil or Orophin. He wishes to meet them both, and apparently cannot wait." I frowned at the thought of my father's eagerness.

I understood his keenness to meet his granddaughter – the child of his faded daughter, Celairiel. But it unnerved me to think that he would be so keen to meet who I hoped would soon be my wife. And what of Tyrael? Would she like my Adar? As much as my past lovers had liked him?

Nay, I hoped she would not be so callous as to tear my heart in two by leaving my side to climb into my father's bed. As kind and smooth as he was when sober, it was a slightly different story when he was drunk.

Elladan had met my father, who had become his double-sided self after my mother Eruntale sailed west. He understood my father's ways, and my displeasure.

"I see. So…a month, you say?"

"Aye," I nodded. "If…that is acceptable to you?"

"Is it acceptable to Tyrael?"

"I was hoping to keep it a surprise for a while," I confessed.

"You would spring it upon her?"

 I hesitated. "Yes…"

"What if she were to refuse?"

"Then your words would no doubt follow me to Mandos," I replied dryly, crossing my arms, discomforted by the idea of Tyrael refusing my proposal.

Elladan took my words seriously, which I had not expected him to do. "You care for her enough that you would fade?"

"I believe so," I replied. "Such a thing has obviously never happened before, so therefore I do not know my own strength. But I care for her deeply. I hope that she would not refuse."

"She would not," he said softly. "For I know she cares for you very much. Even if she does not say it often, it is obvious." Elladan cocked an eyebrow at me. "I would agree to your proposal, March Warden…"

"I am not marrying you," I snorted, amused by his choice of words.

"What a pity," Elladan said, pretending to be forlorn and wiping away an imaginary tear. "Well then, let me rephrase that. I shall give you my blessing, but only if you complete this task."

"Which is…?" I asked, filled with hope anew.

"Celibacy."

My heart dropped into my boots.

Celibacy?!  Surely he was jesting!

I studied him.

He appeared to be utterly serious.

"C-celibacy?" I asked weakly.

"Aye," Elladan nodded. "I have never been anything less than blunt with you, and I shall continue to do thus. I know of the broken hearts you have left scattered in Lórien, Haldir. I shall make certain that Tyrael will not be the next victim. If you are serious, you will not so much as aim your Galadhric arrow, understood?" He wagged his finger at me. "And remember! My Adar has eyes everywhere! He will know should you step out of your boundaries."

I gulped. Condemned to a month of not touching her. Thus far, I had not gone six hours without being able to touch her. How would I stand a month?

Yet, I was legend for my self-control and determination. If I wanted her bad enough – and I did – I could do this. I would control my lust and eventually, she would wear a band on her finger, binding herself to me. Hopefully.

I nodded. "I accept."

Although I may not survive, I added silently.

Elladan grinned. "Good choice, mellon. I shall be watching. Now – what do you say to a sudden death challenge?"

*

Some time later, after I eventually bested Elladan (and our sudden death challenge was no longer a sudden death challenge when he feared losing), I made my way towards the common dining hall, deciding that depriving myself of breakfast would not be a good way to start the painful month ahead of me.

Along the way, as I silently hit myself over and over and wondered how I would go without Tyrael's touch for a month, I met with my brothers, who were flirting with maidens who were several yards away, coaxing them with winks and mouthed words. I shook my head, and they both grinned.

"Haldir!" Rúmil said, clapping me on the back. "You look positively awful! You look as though you have not lain with another in months."

I cringed instantly.

"Oh, tell me you have not been flaccid for months!" Rúmil gasped. "I feel for you, brother! You may join us in tempting these fair maidens, if you so desire…"

"Nay, Rúmil," Orophin said. "Haldir would want no other but Maleleea golden eyes. And I know that he has not been flaccid for months!" His expression was a peculiar one; the grin on his lips did not quite match the look in his eyes. "I sense there is some other ailment at work here."

"And you would be right," I replied with a sigh. "I spoke to Elladan this morn.  I asked for his blessing if I were to propose to Tyrael."

Rúmil sucked in a breath. "You are serious about this maiden, brother? Serious enough to bind to her?"

"Aye," I nodded.

"Then what is the problem?" Orophin asked quietly, his blue eyes searching mine. "Has her Adar refused you?"

"Nay," I replied. "He has accepted, has agreed to keep my plans a secret until I decide to propose. But his acceptance comes with a price."

"What sort of price?" Rúmil asked slowly.

"The price of celibacy for a month," I said miserably.

There was silence for a moment, before they both burst out laughing.

"That Elladan!" Rúmil cried, slapping his thigh as he bent double with his laughter.

"He picked the perfect weak spot!" Orophin grinned, and this time, it reached his eyes. "He must understand your libido, Haldir. This is a test, is it not?"

"Aye," I nodded. "A test to see if I am willing to risk that which is a strong part of me for her. And I have agreed. I am doomed to a month of not touching her."

"You are patient," Orophin said gently, with a frown. "Your self-control is not legendary for nothing, brother. I am certain you will achieve this goal."

"That is not all," I continued morosely.

"Elladan has dealt you more than one punishment?" Rúmil asked, intrigued.

"Nay," I sneered, twisting the right portion of hair that fell over my shoulder around my finger. "I dealt myself punishment, when I wrote home and told father about Tyrael and Kalia. He plans on arriving in a month, when I hope the wedding shall be held."

They both fell silent and looked at each other.

"Then it shall be a test for Tyrael as well," Rúmil said, unnaturally serious for once. "A test to see if she can resist what past elleths could not."

I merely frowned. I felt a hand upon my shoulder.

"Haldir," Orophin said gently. "Do not believe that Tyrael would be so hasty as to spurn you for our father. Do not forget that the maidens you used to choose were after titles and honours alone. Tyrael is not like that – this I know. Give her a chance. At least that way, you will know if she is truly worth the month's celibacy."

I nodded, shuddering at the mental image of Tyrael and my Adar gazing at each other with love in their eyes.

"Go now," Orophin continued. "Eat some breakfast. Try to find a way to make yourself look less wraith-like. Do. Not. Worry." He punctuated each word, and I nodded like a meek child.

"Thank you, brothers. Your kind words have eased my heart. I shall see you both later." I fisted my hand, put it over my heart and bowed my head, before I continued on to the hall.

I entered it just as Tyrael left with her Ada. Kalia and Legolas were there, sitting at a table, and Kalia's look of concern when she saw me warmed my heart. Few elleths had cared about my feelings, my wellbeing. Kalia did so without expecting anything in return, and for this I loved her. She knew me somehow – knew how I would react, knew my mannerisms. As disturbing as it was, to have someone know me in such a way, it was also comforting.

"Uncle, good morning," she said, and I could hear the concern in her voice. Legolas was eyeing me as though I had something in my teeth (though I was fairly certain that when I bit Tyrael's shoulder in the night to stifle my cry so as not to wake Kalia, I did not tear away any flesh).

"Good morning Kalia, Legolas," I replied, and slumped into my chair, depressed and weary. I had not had much sleep, firstly due to an extensive session between Tyrael, and myself, and then due to another one when I had awoken to her stroking my hip and measuring my elfhood.

She must have found it much to her liking, judging by the large grin on her face.

And now, what with Elladan's 'Terms and conditions to marrying my daughter', I was truly exhausted, mentally and physically.

A servant had come over with food, and when she finally left, Kalia turned to me, a question burning on her face.

"I have spoken to Elladan," I revealed, and as an after-thought, I glanced over my shoulder in case Tyrael or Elladan should hear this conversation.

"And?" Kalia sounded impatient, something that was unusual for her. But then, she too had the celibacy rule placed upon her – it tended to make its victims prone to irritation and sexual frustration. 

"If I wish to marry his daughter, I must endure a state of celibacy, like you and the Prince." I quickly drank some of the draught I had been given, desperately wanting to hide behind my goblet, not wanting to think about my sentence. A month of fruitless arousal, no doubt.

"That's it?" She asked, sounding disbelieving.

She did not seem to focus on the fact that I had revealed my plans to wed Tyrael at all. But then, she had known for some time that I loved the hellcat, before Tyrael herself knew. She had probably guessed that marriage was the next step.

A golden eyebrow was arched at me; apparently irritated that something so 'simple' was bothering me. It was in no way simple!

"That's it? Surely you jest, Kalia," I grumbled. "I am not noble or as virtuous as you are. I might be older, but I am by no means that old!"

Legolas smiled at me, and I knew that he knew of my appetites – he had met several of the elleths I had been with in Lórien. He knew of my habits of biting…

"I am not as virtuous as you believe me to be, Haldir," was her calm reply. I glanced up at her, a little disquieted by the news that sweet, innocent Kalia was not – well, sweet or innocent. I glanced back down at my food, feeling another wave of depression wash over me. What would I do with this celibacy? Both Tyrael and I were very physical Elves, not ones for speeches. Elladan had removed the one thing that proved our love to each other. And we would need to, if not for her benefit, then for mine – especially when my Adar arrived.

"That is not the only problem, I think, Kalia," Legolas said, twirling his fork as he looked at me. I nodded, wallowing in my self-pity.

"I have sent word to my family back home," I said quietly, almost inaudibly. I was more speaking to myself than them. "My father is sure to attend the vows."

"When will he arrive?" Legolas asked.

"A month, perhaps a bit longer." I sighed irritably. "At least I shall have ample time to arrange the ceremony…" The one that was causing so much strife, and the bride did not even know of it… "I do hope you will be there, Kalia – provided she agrees to marry me." I took hold of her hand, smiling at her. Kalia seemed to be a perfect piece of jigsaw, which linked to both Tyrael and myself. She was perhaps the best friend Tyrael had, and now she was like a sister or a daughter for me to baby and treat as though she is not responsible enough to stay up past a curfew. It was warming, for I had never had a female relation to take care of – Celairiel had not been well known to me, for she was never around much. The times I had known her had been good though – she had been filled with laughter, when she wasn't filled with despair.

"Of course she will," Kalia reassured me. "And of course I will." She kissed me on the forehead, brightening my mood a bit.

*

Later that day, whilst I had been doing everything I could to eradicate thoughts of celibacy and fathers from my mind, I found Tyrael sitting on a bench in Lord Elrond's garden, clutching a leather folder in her hand. 

I paused for a moment, studying her, and for a selfish second, wondered if marriage was worth celibacy. As soon as I thought it, I pushed the thought aside in disgust for two reasons. The first being that it was this line of thinking that had lost me many lovers and had hindered me in other situations.

The second was that this was Tyrael. She was just looking at the leather folder, her profile illuminated by the brutal white sun. One leg was slung over the other, crossed demurely, and one hand held her chin, propped up at the elbow on her crossed leg.

Just studying her, I imagined what married life would be like. I looked at her finger and imagined a band upon it, an identical one adorning my own finger. I imagined the both of us living in my talan, Tyrael with her cooking expertise having a meal ready for me when I returned, weary from my duties at the borders. I imagined the parties we could have, with my brothers laughing, my father accepting that she was mine – and mine alone.

And I imagined children…

 A mixture of both of us, running about the talan, clinging to their mother's skirts, asking me for stories of defeating orcs and monsters.

It was a very appealing vision. Celibacy would be worth it – but I just hoped she made life easier for me.

I stepped from my concealment, smiling. "Good day, Tyrael."

She glanced up, startled, before smiling back. "Good day, Haldir. How did your chat with Ada go? He does not tell me anything."

"It went well," I said evasively. "Where did you both go to at breakfast?"

She forgot the previous topic and beamed. "He wanted to draw me! You see, he draws those he knows so that he can keep memoirs of them – or at least, he does now. He used to do it as a way of relaxation and capturing art and beauty." She gestured to the leather folder in her lap. "Would you like to see?"

"Aye," I smiled, sitting next to her. She shuffled closer, positioning the folder over both our laps, and opened the folder.

The first picture was of Elrohir. The Elf was bent over in a bow, one hand held behind his back in a gentlemanly manner, the offer offered to a maiden, who was looking at his hand as though it held a bar of gold.

There were other pictures there, all of them amazingly detailed. There was Elrond and his wife, Celebrian, when they were still together. The Lady of Imladris was smiling at her husband, her golden waves tumbling over her shoulders, and fighting against the tiara adorning her head. Elrond was smiling down at their clasped hands, looking more relaxed than I had ever seen him.

There was a picture of Arwen, apparently one she had sat for, for she sat in a chair, her hands clasped in her lap, as she gazed at the artist through the paper.

We studied the drawings of everyone: Lady Galadriel, Lord Celeborn, Erestor, Glorfindel, Aragorn, Legolas and family…everyone. The pictures that caught my eye were towards the end. There were some pictures of my brothers and I. The pictures of myself were quite stunning – I was amazed at how well he captured me. There was one with what Tyrael called my 'Arrogant Arse' expression, one of me smiling (when had I done that so that he could draw me?), and some of me and my brothers.

There were some of a woman with golden hair and dark eyes, who Tyrael revealed to be her mother, Ava. I could see some similarities, but the fact remained that she was most like her father.

There were some pictures of Kalia that had been drawn as well – of her doing laundry, or just staring out to the distance. There was even one of her talking with Tyrael.

The pictures of Tyrael were very good. There weren't many – perhaps not nearly as many as Elladan planned to draw, but there were enough.

The first one held a dark haired, lanky child with bright eyes – not just bright of the irises, but bright with tears. She was squatting down, her bottom not quite touching the floor, her arms wrapped around her legs, her chin resting on her knees. Even though this child looked a lot different to the elleth sitting beside me, there were the odd parts that made you have no doubt it was Tyrael.

There was another, which had obviously been done recently, for I remembered the scene. It was Tyrael braiding my hair outside, smiling at me as I too smiled, my mouth partially opened in a way that told the viewer I was speaking.

The last picture was the one he had obviously led her away to do. She had her head bowed slightly, looking down at her fork, almost shyly. Her hair had been pulled to one side out of the way, exposing a broad shoulder bared by that damned blue dress. It was a beautiful picture, full of time and love. It gave me a new respect for Elladan.

"He is very good," I remarked, closing the folder. "Yet I have never seen him sketch."

"He is very sly," she nodded, smiling. The smile grew slightly wider. "Kalia said I am her best friend."

I smiled. "I do not doubt it."

"She is mine too." Tyrael frowned. "My only friend, actually."

"I do not think that true," I said, kissing her lightly on the forehead. "There are many who are your friends. My brothers, Legolas…"

"But none are friends like Kalia is," she explained, and then grinned. "Or you."

"I should hope not," I grinned, then glared inwardly as I forced myself not to take her right there on the bench, reminding myself of the task at hand. "Come," I said. "Let us go for a walk."

The silence in which we walked was comfortable – neither of us felt awkward with the lack of speech, and simply followed some united but unvoiced path through Rivendell, greeting friends and acquaintances as we saw them. This soon led us back to the archery ranges, where Rúmil was challenging Orophin to archery, and the Lady Arwen watched from a bench, a smile gracing her lips.

Tyrael stiffened.

"What is wrong, a'mael beloved?"

"I have not met Arwen yet. I doubt she even knows who I am."

I glanced at the Evenstar. "You have not been introduced?"

"Nay," she replied, gripping my arm tighter. "I think Ada wished to do so, but she has been away."

"Haldir! Tyrael!" Rúmil beckoned to us, his grin threatening to sever his head in half. I gently nudged my mela towards them, and we both approached the small group, greeting them all with a nod.

"How do you fair, hellcat?" My brother asked, grinning as he placed a kiss upon her cheek. "I trust you are keeping Haldir in his place?" I glared at him.

"Oh, of course," Tyrael replied. "The cat-o'-nine-tails takes care of that."

There was a moment's silence, until everyone suddenly burst into laughter. Even I had to laugh – although, the imagery gave me fresh discomfort on the celibacy rule. Now I had that blasted image in my head…

"Tread carefully, dear," I murmured, raising an eyebrow. "Or I shall have to mention the manacles."

Her eyes widened, and she laughed with everyone else. "You wish, Haldir!"

Aye, I do, I thought weakly.

Orophin smiled at Tyrael warmly. "Do not let him bully you, lissamin my sweet. If need be, go for his tickle spots."

"He has tickle spots?"

"I suggest you keep quiet before you find yourself fresh out of arrows, brother mine," I said in a silky, warning tone.

Orophin, understanding that I did not mean the regular type of arrow, had shut up, but did not stop smirking.

"Oh, why hello, Elrohir!" 

We all heard the comical, raised voice of Elladan, who spoke in a high voice in an imitation of a female, and I groaned aloud, sensing mischief afoot. We all turned towards the source of the noise, and saw Elladan and Elrohir striding towards each other from opposite directions.

"Oh, good day to you, Elladan!" Elrohir cried in reply, doing the opposite to his twin and lowering his voice to make it deeper. 

They stopped facing each other, and Elrohir bowed, whilst Elladan did a cute little curtsey that had a few chuckles running through the audience.

"I really must be going now," Elladan continued in his high-pitched voice.

"Put it there," Elrohir boomed, chest puffed out, and he held out his hand.

"Oh my!" Elladan squealed, and went to shake Elrohir's hand, but mimed accidentally missing and hitting him in the…

Dear Valar! I knew that mishap!

I watched in horror as Elrohir bugged his eyes, let out a squeak, and dropped to the floor, writhing. Elladan, meanwhile, started squealing girlishly, clasping his hands and attempting to look panicked at Elrohir's false injuries.

I glared.

Kalia had joined us, appearing from nowhere, and soon, her laughter mixed with that of Tyrael, my brothers, and Arwen.

I glanced at Tyrael, knowing that the only way the information could have reached their ears was through her. But she was laughing too hard to notice – tears were running from the corners of her eyes. I was not sure if my brothers knew of the significance behind the twins' act, but they certainly seemed to enjoy it anyway.

Elladan and Elrohir both bowed, grinning. I gave Tyrael a pointed look, and she smiled sheepishly.

Elrohir bounded over, pulling Tyrael towards him and squeezing her shoulders in a hug, still laughing in gasps.

Elladan, cheeks flushed from laughing, leant forward and kissed her on the cheek.

"That was brilliant!"

He noted the odd look Arwen was giving them, and I understood that she may have felt that there was some sort of odd business between the three.

"What?" He asked her, and then gasped. "Oh, how very foolish of me!" He grabbed Tyrael and pulled her to him, before turning her to his sister. Tyrael was allowing herself to be jerked around like a puppet, which looked rather amusing. "Tyrael, my sister Arwen. Arwen, my daughter Tyrael."

"Oh, well hello – what?" She froze.

I thought for a moment that Arwen's eyes were being pushed out of her head from inside her skull. She glanced from father to daughter, ignoring the amused chuckles coming from Elrohir.

"D-daughter?"

"Aye."

She must have understood, for her confusion cleared, but she still looked shocked.

"When did this happen?" She glanced between both of them still.

"Only recently," was the reply, which confused Arwen even more, and I had to repress a smile.

"My. Well…where have you been hiding?" She smiled at Tyrael, and I smiled, relieved that Arwen had not kicked up a fuss like everyone else seemed to be doing.

"That is a long story, and one I shall tell later," Elladan said, letting Tyrael go. She instantly returned to Kalia's side, and they both watched the dark-haired siblings.

"Adar wishes to see us," Elrohir said.

"So we must leave now," Elladan continued.

"But we shall see you later on." They both bowed once again, before walking away, their movements identical. I found myself momentarily forgetting which one was which.

"Well, this will not do!"

I turned to see Arwen frowning at Kalia and Tyrael's attire.

"Has no one attempted to clothe you?!"

Both shook their heads.

"Come with me," Arwen smiled. "Let us dress you up." She paused. "I am an aunt! I never thought I would see the day…"

*

A week passed, and with it my sanity was slowly beginning to flee. It was bad enough that every time I saw her, I wanted to knock her to the ground and have my way with her right then and there, even if people were in the room.

Elladan watched me closely, true to his word. He also seemed to have others watching out, including, amazingly enough, Erestor – who had interrupted a particularly heated kiss I had been slave to.

I had only meant it to be a light kiss, but could not help but turn it into something more the moment my lips touched hers. We were pressed close, our tongues fighting for dominance, one of my hands at the small of her back, the other at the back of her head. She was playing with my hair absently, as she kissed me back with equal passion. I suckled on her lower lip, making her smile, and slid one of my hands into her hair to cup the back of her head, bringing her closer still. My other hand moved down her back, sliding around to the front, making its way up to her breast, then – a throat had been cleared.

Erestor was standing there, attempting to make it look accidental – but he was a terrible actor. He made idle conversation, and when he finally left, Tyrael turned to me and said, "Haldir, he is stiffer than you are!"

My only reply was, "I highly doubt that."

She and Kalia were now bedecked in fineries, courtesy of Arwen, who had been very pleased at the prospect of having a niece – someone she could finally share secrets and stories with.

Despite all the new company she was receiving, she preferred to spend time with Kalia when she could, which always had me on tenterhooks waiting for Kalia to accidentally let slip about my plans. But she never did, and remained her normal self, not arousing even a smidgen of suspicion from my mela.

And speaking of arousing…

The wench had definitely made life harder for me. Tyrael's ministrations drove me mad when I was not celibate, but now that I was, things were a hundred times worse. Especially upon the morn when I awoke to discover that she had been waking me up with kisses placed all over my body.

Needless to say, when I awoke, she was on the floor, sporting a bruise. I had somehow flung her off the bed in my sleep. I had apologised many times, feeling awfully guilty and even worse than normal. Tyrael accepted my apologies, though was still sulky beyond belief. I tried to make her feel better by showing her where she had bitten me. In reply, she bit me again. This was when I decided to give her a nickname.

My Tyrant.

Somehow, the twins managed to learn of this too, and had great fun acting it out whenever I was around, pretending to throw one another to the floor, or bite chunks out of each other. They had even recruited my own brothers! If they were not Tyrael's family, I most likely would have tied them by their feet to a tree and set fire to their hair. I was grouchy from celibacy, hurt physically from Tyrael's biting habits, and still worrying over my father. Nothing was going right.

I spent a lot of time going over my duties with the lord and lady, discussing problems near Lothlórien or new training programmes for new wardens. Work and training kept my mind at least partially away from my torment.

I spent as much time with Kalia as my schedule and hers would allow. Wedding plans seemed to be awfully hectic, which I found amusing, seeing as there was still a year to wait. I picnicked with her, at one point giving her a gift of a longbow and a quiver of arrows.

I had never seen an elleth more emotional – she actually sobbed. It was nice to have someone appreciate their gifts, and not necessarily for their value but the sentiments behind them. I had not actually given Tyrael any gifts, due to the ever-present guilty fact that I was avoiding her more and more, as my control grew weaker and weaker.

My March Warden skills were legend, aye. But what was also legendary – at least in Lothlórien – was my sexual prowess. Which was not having its appetites fulfilled.

*

When I heard that my Adar had arrived early, I nearly went ballistic. An overreaction, perhaps, but by now my sanity was connected to me by a mere shred. I snapped at almost everyone, and I did not look a very nice sight. Tyrael was worried for me – but I merely told her it was worry over my father arriving. She already knew of the tension between Adar and myself and so she accepted the excuse, though she still looked dubious.

She had been off-colour with me for a while, which had happened, peculiarly enough, after a night when Legolas, Kalia and myself met up at the archery ranges in secret, to discuss my plans for nuptials whilst practising. By the time we returned, we were tired from our practise, and rather sweaty, having worked for quite some time.

I had awoken the next morning to find Tyrael distant and annoyed. And at some point during that day, I saw her glancing over her shoulder, looking at the lurking figure of Rathborn, who met her gaze for a while, before turning away and leaving. Though she refused to speak of it, I could tell it upset her. It upset me too. It showed that some of her mind was still on that bastard of an Elf who had publicly humiliated her.

Did elleths never learn?

When I caught wind of my Adar's arrival, the first thing I did was hunt her out and drag her towards the building he was in, explaining his arrival. She froze almost instantly, and only my quick reactions prevented her from falling on her face. I wanted to be there when they met, to attempt to bully into my father that she was mine, and mine alone.

Adar seemed to be sober, as he greeted Kalia in a respectable and gentle way, whilst we all gathered in Lord Elrond's sitting room. I kept a good grip on Tyrael, wanting it to be clear to my father who she belonged to. I was going to painful lengths to keep her, and he would not ruin it.

Adar lavished compliments on Kalia – who indeed deserved them. Kalia seemed to like him instantly, smiling shyly at his praising words. I braced myself when he turned his attentions to Tyrael and me.

"And is this Haldir's new love?"

"Aye, father, this is Tyrael," I replied as politely as I could, but it apparently was not good enough, for I felt Kalia's curious gaze upon me.

I tightened my arm around Tyrael's waist in a timeless gesture of possession – I could see the way she was grinning at my Adar, and did not like it one bit. I was happy to keep her there, at my side, but she broke away to embrace Adar – paying no heed to me – who I could see was smiling quite largely.

Not again…please, Eru…

"Elen sila lumenn omentilmo a star shall shine on the hour of our meeting," Tyrael said, and I raised an eyebrow.

Somehow, in the time I had been away from her, my hellcat had developed manners.

*

Tyrael grew angrier and angrier with every day. Her family, my father and brothers, Kalia and Legolas – they all received nice treatment.

I was treated like an Orc. Now, I was not stepping away, I was being pushed away. Part of me wondered if my father had succeeded once again in taking my fancies, but she did not seem to spend any extra time with him.

If anything, she flocked to Rúmil and Orophin.

Times were hard. There could possibly be an Orc attack on Lothlórien very soon. Either I could leave Rivendell, leaving Tyrael behind, or I could speed up the nuptials, and bring her with me. Either way, my options did not look very bright. Should I leave my love here alone, at the possible mercy of Rathborn and her peers? Or should I take her with me, and risk her becoming hurt worse than when she was in the tournament?

I had the wedding bands already. The proposal still needed to be done – Tyrael was clueless. She seemed suspicious at times, but according to Kalia, never considered the possibility of a wedding.

As I sat in my room, rolling one of the bands between my thumb and forefinger, a knock sounded at the door.

"Enter."

Kalia came in with a frown upon her face. "Good day, Haldir."

"Is it?" I asked, concerned, noting her discomfort. Kalia had been very uncomfortable lately, but this felt…different.

"Not for Tyrael," she said. She was going straight to the point. "Haldir, Tyrael is confused that you are pushing her away. She feels that you no longer care."

I closed my eyes and sucked in a breath. "She has told you this?"

"Nay. She does not have to. Her unhappiness comes off her in waves. And…" Kalia paused. "I know about the Orcs."

I groaned, and rested my forehead into the palm of my hand. "What do I do? I am tormented, frustrated, and my home could be under attack any day. I…I shall be leaving very soon, Kalia. The matter cannot wait. I just do not know what to do about Tyrael."

"She is not a child. She can fight just as well as the next Elf. She has skills with throwing knives…the ones she acquired from Orevon. And her hand-to-hand combat is brilliant."

"You are suggesting I make the wedding earlier?"

"I am suggesting that you speak to her," Kalia replied, looking worn. She truly had problems of her own, without having to dip into mine. "Let her make her mind up. Though I think I already know what she will choose."

As did I.

And so I found myself walking through the grounds, searching for her. The day was horribly sunny, not suiting the moods at all. I desired storm clouds, cold breezes. I wanted to wring Elladan's neck for all this trouble. Why celibacy? Why not have me serenade her in public, or streak through Rivendell naked? Anything but this!

"Thrust! Thrust! Harder!"

"Like this?"

"Aye, that is good!"

I froze, stunned.

Those words did not sound good, and they were coming from Tyrael and Orophin's mouths. Startled and annoyed, I walked around the hedgerows that held them from sight, and breathed a sigh of relief. Tyrael and both my brothers were practising swordplay. She was laughing, appearing happy, as she blocked their thrusts and jabbed some of her own.

"Tyrael," I said. "May I speak with you a moment?"

She handed the sword to Orophin, and my brothers moved a respectable distance away. Tyrael gave me a dark look, before crossing her arms.

"What?"

"What is this?" I asked. "You seem happier to see my brothers than you are to see me. You certainly spend much time with them." And indeed she had. She had spent so much time with them that I was growing jealous, despite the fact that I had shunned her first.

"Is that a problem?" She asked, raising an eyebrow. "I would have thought you would be pleased, that I get along with your family."

"Aye, I am," I replied, unable to control my words. "However, even a little of your time would do me nicely – I am, after all, supposed to be your lover."

"You hypocritical pig," she hissed. "Where have you been the past few weeks?! Certainly not with me!"

"My time does not continually revolve around you," I argued back.

"Nay, it never revolves around me! Yet you seem to expect mine to revolve around you" She threw her hands up. "I just do not know what to do with you anymore."

"You do not know what to do with me?" I raised an eyebrow. "I am not a child, Tyrael."

"Do not act like one then," she snapped.

"I am not the child here, youngling," I replied darkly. "I see that the fact that you are several millennia younger is showing. Soon, I shall have to sling you over my knee and paddle you."

I saw a hurt, saddened look arise in her golden eyes, and then the bright honey colour darkened to a rich leaf brown as her eyes turned cold.

"I suppose I now know what to say to you, then. If you cannot compromise or know your errors, though you expect me to know mine, then I do not see how we can establish a working partnership." She paused, before casting me a bitter look. "Goodbye and thank you. You were sweet when you thought I was worth your time."

My eyes widened at her words, at the implications, and as she turned to go, I said desperately, "Tyrael…"

"Go back to your duties, Haldir," she said in a worn voice. And she walked away.

I watched in stunned, horrified silence as she rejoined my brothers, who cast me worried looks. They could be no more worried than I. My love, the one I wished to spend the rest of my life with, was walking away from me.

Instantly, anger began to take over. This was needless!

I turned and stalked towards the main body of Rivendell, my scowl causing Elves to walk in a wide berth around me. I would sort this out right away, and I did not care how I did it. As I passed, I caught sight of a familiar messy-haired head.

"Kalia!" I called, and gestured for her to join me.

She did not ask questions, merely followed at a pace to match my own, her frown revealing her concern and confusion, but her silence telling me that she understood I was in turmoil.

I found Elladan with Elrohir, reclining against a trellis lazily. I strode right up to him, and said in my most demanding voice, "I have had enough. I am at the end of my tether, pixie, and I am going to rectify what damage has been caused by this masquerade." I leaned closer. "Now listen closely…"

TYRAEL'S POV

How I could have said that to him, I could not guess. But I had. His weeks of leaving me in others company, of recoiling from my touch, of snapping and snarling – they were too much. And now he accuses me of being the guilty party?

No. Better to nip it in the bud before the bud nipped me. I hid my tears well, continuing to spar with Rúmil and Orophin. Inside, I was screaming. Wondering what had changed. I had been forced into the company of others, when I wanted him. I had spent much time with Orophin, who seemed to be an odd balance between Haldir and Rúmil. He was a sweet Elf, if not a bit odd – especially his habit for staring.

I remembered seeing Legolas, Kalia and Haldir return from some secret meeting, sweaty and walking close to one another. I had also seen them leave, looking around themselves to check that the coast was clear. Even my best friend was privy to the March Warden's deception.

Perhaps I should have remained with Rathborn. Perhaps I should have put up with him thinking me a whore. At least the whole drama with Haldir could have been avoided, and I wouldn't feel like burying my face into the crook of Orophin's neck and crying until I was dried up.

Haldir's desertion of me had stung. I had thought he was different, but now I knew otherwise. The only Elf I had loved was a player, and I was paying for my naivety dearly.

At least I still have Ada, I thought sadly. And Halthon seems to like me, at least. Why does Haldir dislike him so?

As I continued to spar, who should reappear but the sordid Elf himself, looking slightly rushed. I attempted to ignore him, stung when I saw Kalia trailing behind him. We had grown closer in past weeks, yet I still felt that should a rift ever come between myself and Haldir – which seemed to be happening – she would choose her uncle.

Well, I most likely would as well, were I in her position. But it stung me nonetheless.

"Tyrael," Haldir said, approaching me. "A word."

"Kela go away," I replied.

Before I could consider doing anything, he pulled the sword from my hand, gave it to his brother, and tugged me over to the side.

"Get off!" I growled.

The audacity of him! I brought my hand up and dug my claws into his arm, which he seemed to flinch at, but did not break his grip. He swung me around to face him instead.

"I will not," he replied, blue eyes glinting. "You will hear me out, before you decide whether to turn me away or not." His eyes seemed full of pain – and for a moment, I faltered, but soon recovered my tongue, still fighting not to cry. Haldir, surprisingly, also looked ready to cry – but he kept his grip on me, and not one tear fell.

"Well hurry up and speak then. I do not have all day."

He sighed, and then said, "I have been avoiding you, I admit that." I glared. "But it is not because I love you any less. I do not. I could not. I love you more, if anything. I avoided you because of celibacy."

Celibacy? He was avoiding me because of Legolas and Kalia? Was this some sort of 'I shall suffer with you in sympathy' game? Because he could have at least told me about it.

"What?"

"Celibacy," he repeated. "When I…when I spoke to your Ada, he wished for me to be celibate for a month to prove that I care for you."

Surely Ada would not! He must know, from observing me with Haldir that we both thrived on each other's touch. Why would he remove that which was important to us?

But I could see nothing but truth in Haldir's eyes.

"He would not," I said, "He has no right."

Haldir paused. "He has every right…if the suitor is requesting his blessing."

My heart sped up. Blessing? What blessing…? I voiced these questions aloud, confused and worried.

He stepped closer, close enough so that his lips were next to my ear, and it took all of my willpower not to shudder. "How would you like to join me in my talan…forever?"

I moved away and gave him a startled glance. Surely he did not mean…! But the look in his eyes…

"What?!" I asked, not trusting myself to believe what I had heard. "Is that a marriage proposal?"

"Aye."

His simple reply shocked me more, and everything seemed to fall into place. Haldir loved sex – that was no secret. Or, at least, I hoped it wasn't, due to some of the tales I'd been telling to Arwen.

He had been backed into a corner by Ada, but had taken up the challenge… because he wished to marry me. But it had been driving him mad, he could not stand being celibate. And so, he began to avoid me in case he broke his promise.

My love for him seemed to increase tenfold. He had just proposed to me – wanted me to be his.

"But…when would we…?!" I was flustered by his question, stunned that he would just ask in such an untidy way.

"Hmm…" Haldir glanced at the sun, calculating the time. "In about 20 minutes?"

My eyes widened further, if possible. He stepped closer to me, and I could see his nervousness clearly. There were worry lines on his forehead, and his mouth was set in a grim line.

"Well? What is your answer?"

I could see Kalia watching, her brow furrowed. I knew she was silently begging me not to do something I would regret. And as much as I was still angry with Haldir for the torment he put me through – and at Ada, for putting Haldir through the torture – I knew what I wanted. Knew what I needed.

"Aye," I nodded. "I will marry you."

He just stared at me for a moment, before grinning. His previous unhappy expression melted away, and he looked centuries younger. He gave me a quick kiss, then gestured to Kalia.

"Kalia shall help you prepare. I shall see you very soon, melamin." With that, he turned and sprinted off, his brothers following him at his beckoning.

Kalia dragged me to the place where I would get ready, her eyes wide with excitement, a grin upon her face. "I knew you would make the right choice!"

I smiled. Kalia's anxiety had been removed for at least a while. I knew that matters were weighing heavily upon her, and that she needed a break. Perhaps a wedding was just the trick?

Especially the wedding of her beloved uncle.

She shunted me into a room, and instantly began to brush my hair. I was getting married! I was actually going to marry. And of all the people to marry, I chose an arrogant, sex-crazed warden who bit me just as much as I bit him – when he was not celibate, of course.

"I cannot believe this," I murmured. "I thought he did not care anymore…"

"He was attempting to keep to his word," Kalia smiled. "But today, he could stand it no longer. The wedding was not supposed to be for another week, but he knew he would not survive until then. Especially not with you being angry with him."

"I was beastly," I moaned.

"You were both idiots," Kalia replied simply. "But things are well now. Soon, you shall be the wife of the March Warden."

"And your aunt," I realised, and burst out laughing.

"Oh, dear Valar," Kalia groaned, realising the implications to that statement. I would be both her cousin and her aunt. Quite scary, in some ways.

"Oh!" I felt my happiness waver. "Kalia, I have naught to wear!"

She smiled at me, biting her lip, and I raised an eyebrow. What exactly had been planned?

"Worry not." I turned to see Ada at the door, holding a box and looking decidedly guilty.

"You made him celibate?!" I started complaining instantly. "Ada! That was just cruel! Not just to him but to me too!"

He sighed, and leant against the doorframe. "Let me explain. Haldir is older than I. Only by close to two thousand years or so, but he is older. And so, I grew up hearing tales about him, meeting him. I also met the elleths whose hearts he broke as easily as he drank water with his meals. In setting that task, I felt it would prove his sincerity if he truly loved you. And…" he paused, frowning. "I wanted to make certain he was not another Rathborn."

I gave him a startled look. "Ada?"

"I should have known before what a cur Rathborn was, Tyrael. I should have warned you. You see, in a very distant memory from when your mother was still alive, Rathborn was the fatality of my mother's handmaiden before Ava. If I had remembered this, perhaps I could have saved you from whatever emotional damage he dealt you. Since I could not, I could only test Haldir." Ada smiled, but it was distant. "And Haldir has passed the test very well. Instead of forfeiting when he lost control and going against his word, he simply came back and demanded an earlier wedding. He is a good Elf, Tyrael. I hope you both have much joy."

He came over, and placed a kiss on my forehead. I smiled, and hugged him. I had always longed for a father like him, and now I had him. Hugging him brought back the memory of my 18th birthday, and I smiled at the thought. Even back then, he had been there for me.

"You will be giving me away?"

"Of course. And I shall visit you in Lothlórien." He pulled away, giving me an I-will-nip-at-your-heels-like-a-terrier look. "Come now, you did not think I would let you go so easily?" We both laughed. Ada handed me the box. "Here. I had it made for you for your wedding. I think it will suffice."

Trying not to get too misty-eyed, I opened the box, and gasped. Inside was a stunning white gown, but with a bodice of gold made to look like feathers. It was just the right size for me.

He kissed me on the cheek. "You will look beautiful."

I could say nothing. I merely stared down at the gown – my wedding gown – and tried not to cry. My life had taken a very unexpected turn these past months.

"I will go and see how the arrangements are coming along," Kalia grinned, placing a hand on my shoulder and giving a knowing squeeze. "I shall call you when everything is ready."

"Wait!" I said, and she turned. "You will be my maid of honour?"

She smiled a sweet smile. "Only if you want me to be."

My smile was answer enough.

 She left the room, Ada following behind her so that I could dress. He remained outside the door.

"How does it feel to be marrying the Monotone March Warden?" He asked through the door.

I chuckled, stripping off my clothing and arranging the gown to put it on. "Surprisingly good, considering I have been put through hell these past weeks."

"I am sorry, Tyrael." He sounded mournful.

"Do not be – you did what any father would do, and I appreciate it. Um…could you help me?"

He came in, grinning. I could not do the gown up at the back, but with Ada's help, I was soon into it and ready. I glanced in the full-length mirror and felt a wave of nervousness; excitement and…renewal…wash over me.

I looked like a different person – like both the pure maiden and the temptress. No doubt Ada had had the slits up the skirt put in to drive Haldir mad. The thought made me smile.

"I hear Haldir will be naked," Ada grinned.

"I hope so," I replied, unable to keep the sincerity from my voice, which had Ada in stitches. I froze when I heard Kalia's voice, tinkling through the halls alight with an eagerness I had not heard from her in a while – if not never before.

"Tyrael! We are ready!"

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