Authors' Note: Good for you, you are reading this little excerpt unlike many others who skip it to read the story – but I can forgive them as I confess to doing it myself sometimes. This story has really become something that almost writes itself – I have a basic plot line, but the characters seem to take on their own identities and pull the plot to places I hadn't thought to go  (for egs: no one was going to help Câlavendë and then Rúmil came on the scene with his humour and sweetness – that was even a surprise for me) – I actually wasn't going to make Haldir so arrogant, but he seems determined to be that way so how can I say no? I am sorry about the wait between chapters, but time seems to be against me. I really hope you keep enjoying and reading this legend and that it touches your heart and after reaching it's conclusion you sigh and say, "Ah, now that was a story worthy of the many hours I sat here, numbing my derrière, reading and waiting for the next chapter."

Disclaimer: I do not own nor am I affiliated with any of the Lord of the Rings enterprises and many characters are taken from J.R.R. Tolkien's masterpiece. Don't bother suing me, I have no money!

BIG NOTE: The poem found in this chapter is actually a lullaby I heard by Jewel and I don't own it. I gain no profit from the poem and I am not affiliated with Atlantic records in anyway. The poem/song is entirely Jewel Kilcher's.

Dedication: To Nienna Nir, who has graciously accepted to being my beta reader and who has the gift of making one day seem so much brighter…. Thankyou again.

----------------

The predawn light did not stir Câlavendë from sleep, instead, it was the swift jab on her shoulder that prompted her to awaken from another heartbreaking dream of Dol Amroth. Orophin, had debated on how to rouse their guest and had watched her sleeping form for a time. The hood she wore constantly must have moved during the night and now revealed her face, allowing Orophin to study what was to him one of the most mysterious elleths he had ever met. For a moment he had seen stubbornness in her jaw line, beauty in the curl of her small lips and sorrow in the darkened shadows beneath her eyes.  Eventually his silent decision was made to use the tip of his bow to tap her shoulder, as he still could not make himself physically touch her, cursed as he thought she was. Abruptly awakened, Câlavendë brought her staff tip, which he had not noticed was lying in her hands as she slept, a hairsbreadth away from Orophin's nose.

"Now this seems vaguely familiar," he commented dryly, belying the unease he felt at something so sharp so near to what he thought of as one of his greatest assets.

Câlavendë hurriedly withdrew her staff and pulled her fallen hood back over her head. She wondered if they had caught the faint blush of remorse that had swept over her pale features as she did so. Numbskull…you are invited as a guest yet insist on almost murdering your host!

"Forgive me, I am not used to waking in company." Yes, not even as a seamstress did your deceiving betrothed ever stay the entire night. Instead he would steal away before dawn, afraid that someone would see him slipping from the room of one beneath him…she sighed heavily…let it pass, twas long ago.

"Half awake and already trying to kill my brother? I am in awe of your forethought. Though I personally would prefer the use of strangulation as there would be less clean up afterwards." Rúmil twisted his face in disgust at the mere thought of having to remove Orophin's bloodstains from his impeccably clean warden uniform.

Orophin gently stroked the hilt of his dagger, an evil glint in his eyes. "Do you know what castration is, my dearest brother?"

Rúmil could not reply as a voice, sounding like a combination of barely restrained anger and ice cold determination, drifted up from the ground below.

"There will be more than one edhel to castrate if you both don't move your pesky pointed ears down here, immediately."

Rúmil unravelled the rope ladder and let it drop down from the flet as he whispered over his shoulder to Câlavendë.

"Many say Haldir is deaf as a rabid orc. I have yet to ever agree with them."

"He sounds angry," Orophin mused and suddenly groaned with realisation. "Rúmil, tell me you did not do it?"

The latter only waved a pair of weathered boots in front of Orophin's eyes, forgetting that Câlavendë could not understand what they were talking about.

"What have you done?" she whispered, greatly intrigued.

Orophin cuffed Rúmil's ear, before answering. "We have currently acquired ourselves a shoeless March Warden. I was actually hoping he would be in a better mood today. Hooray for you brother, you have caused us to endure another day with a darkly brooding, superior-in-rank, older sibling. For this we might get twice as much Banquet Hall duties. Who is the genius now?"

Câlavendë smiled to herself and felt for the rope ladder to descend to where she could sense Haldir stood. Rúmil and Orophin followed reluctantly behind her, dreading the furious elf they would no doubt meet at the bottom. Haldir watched Câlavendë descend and was struck again by how well she moved without sight to aid her, but gritted his teeth when he espied his impish kin. When Câlavendë stood before him he remembered his duty and gave a stiff, but cordial bow.

"Suilad, Lady Suliell. I trust you slept well?"

He was taken aback when she turned her head away from him. Ungrateful wench!

"Very well, March Warden," she replied. Oh, please you wouldn't care if I slept or not, spare yourself the breath.

Câlavendë felt Rúmil and Orophin behind her and they both seemed to be using her as some sort of edhel shield. Rúmil was trying not to grin at the sight of a bootless Haldir, though bemused at how his vain brother could still bear himself with pride. When he dared to look Haldir in the eye he saw both anger and some slight, evil, humour. Rúmil swallowed slowly, Haldir was surely thinking of a way to avenge his stolen footwear and by anyone's guess it would not be something Rúmil would enjoy overly much!

"My boots, brother."

Rúmil meekly gave back the aforementioned items, and Haldir took them from him roughly; all but snatching them from his hands. With as much dignity as possible Haldir turned his back to them and commenced pulling on his favourite pair of careworn boots. When he had finished he smirked slightly, bright eyes flashing.

"That has cost both of you Banquet Hall duties from Orgilion to Rodyn ['Day of the stars' to 'day of the powers'- about 6 days], plus extra bow training in the morning, and if you even think of shirking your tasks I will have no choice but to extend them."

"Come now, Haldir-brother-o-mine. It was not that bad," Rúmil pleaded. "I do not think just taking your odourous feet warmers on a little trip away from their merciless master warranted days of endless scrubbing at the Banquet Hall."

Haldir only narrowed his eyes. Rúmil, looking decidedly sullen, had to nudge Orophin to stop his muffled laughter.

"It wasn't their fault!" Three heads stared in disbelief at Câlavendë. Was she mad? Or did she have a fervent death wish that she had yet to tell them about, but was certainly trying her hardest to fulfil?

"Oh?" Haldir asked surprised. "Then would you kindly care to explain?"

Lovely mess you have got yourself into Cala when will you learn to hold your tongue. Now what are you going to do? 

"Ahh…you see," ideas flitted through her mind, each one much more wilder than the first until, "… it was not their idea!!… it …was… mine…"

Congratulations, now you have definitely made yourself orc fodder.

"Lady you do not need to …" Rúmil tried to stop her, but she continued unheedingly.

"…therefore you must remove this punishment." Câlavendë warmed to her desperate theme. "If any blame should fall on the guilty party it should be me. I apologise if I have offended you in any way."

Haldir knew that he could do nothing. As a guest Câlavendë was beyond his reproach and he knew she was only saying this for the sake of his brothers, but that did not mean he could not take sweet revenge.

"I am afraid, the penalty will stay the same, no matter your honourable lie. They need to learn some respect for their betters. In the mean time, Lady Suliel, keep your juvenile pranks to yourself." He leaned menacingly forward. "I will not suffer this again."

Câlavendë gripped her staff tighter. "Is that a threat, March Warden?"

Haldir resumed is earlier aloofness. "Consider it merely a polite gesture of forewarning."

The threat jarred her nerves, setting her heart racing in fury. Câlavendë did not like to be threatened; the least of all by Haldir, and another argument could have arisen if not for Orophin's voice. "The sun is rising, we should go."

Haldir glanced to the light growing in the East and without speaking lead them onwards. Lothlorien in the morning had a sense of timeless beauty. There the old world thrived and the natural unblemished quality instilled a sense fulfilment in those that came within its borders. Even the air felt wholesome, pure, as if it had never been breathed. Câlavendë could sense more clearly the living flora that surrounded her, but she Ladyed seeing the colours, the textures, the delight that only sight could bring by seeing. To any wanderer the awe they found themselves seeped in was well founded and expected. If one looked carefully, they would find the tangible vibrancy and antiquity gradually increase the further they travelled towards Caras Galadhon. To Calavende she felt its calm, grandeur and, resonating deeply below, its power.

The sun rose quickly behind them and it was nearing its peak yet they had still not reached the heart of Lothlorien, though Haldir promised it was not far. Orophin had begun whistling a merry tune when a piercing cry of pain came form the thickets not far from an old, rotting, fallen log and the group stilled as one. The wind swept through the wood and ruffled their cloaks, but they stood as if time had stopped their hearts, frozen into stone. It was a defence tactic that if a wanderer was in the open and noticed a foe before they spotted the wanderer, and they could not hide without drawing attention, the wanderer was to stand as still as possible. All eyes, even that of the enemy, are attracted to movement and light. Once the group discerned that they could see no visible adversary on the next breeze they slinked into the brush, crouching between logs and roots, trying to espy what had made their blood chill so violently. Peering between the leaves and into an accompanying grove they watched a darkly spotted, grey cat, larger and more powerful than that of its domestic cousins in the halls of men, stood hissing on a tree stump. His fur, matted in places where blood had congealed, had risen in hackles and tawny eyes were opened wide, looking up into the canopy above him. One paw was lifted tentatively off the ground, and it looked to be broken. Gashes could be seen on his face and back where something had obviously tried to take his life. As they watched three crows flew swiftly down to claw with their sharp talons the outnumbered feline. To their surprise it still fought bravely but in vain, using its hind legs to lift off the ground and swipe at the birds with his unharmed paw, only to fall back down again, tail switching menacingly back and forth as it watched for another onslaught.

Câlavendë was silently focusing her mind so that she could feel the essence of the living around her and build up a picture of what was happening. It frightened her to say the least, when she "saw" the birds attacking what was one of their key predators. She was startled when she heard Haldir's voice clearly beside her. He had moved nearer to be able to see more easily and was on the other side of Câlavendë's gorse bush.

"Hope they finish the vermin."

Câlavendë found herself to be agreeing, as she did not care for cats as much as she did for birds. Yet her mind refused to agree with an arrogant and conceited March Warden and her heart could not let a brave little warrior die ironically from carrion birds. She did not even like crows, the omens of evil as she thought they were. So to both spite Haldir and rescue a courageous injured animal she burst out of hiding and into the grove, wielding her staff so that it turned around her body, and yelling as loudly as her lungs permitted. To say whether the crows were more frightened than her edhel escort was something they debated a long time after the occasion, after all she looked and sounded as though a Maia of war had flown in from the heavens. Cobalt cape flying aimlessly behind her like a dark cloud, staff swirling so that it was but a moving blur, hood carelessly fallen back to let the tangled mass of rich auburn curls twist into living flames as the wind whipped through the clearing and her voice as pure as the sky, shouting calls to flee, to retreat, or else they would pay dearly with their lives. The crows winged off as if they had a tumultuous fire at their back and the wardens had to mentally stop themselves from doing the same. The cat was scooped to safety within the arms of a slightly dishevelled Câlavendë, who sat carefully on the trees base whispering calming words into it's battered ears.

The silence and harmony resumed and was only broken by the whine of the feline in severe agony, but too exhausted to make much of a fuss.

"Rúmil, Orophin," Câlavendë cried. "Help me with him, please". Gone from her voice was the commanding and perhaps terrifying grandeur and replaced was an elleth, alone and extremely worried.

She had no sooner than finished her sentence when both brothers came running, Haldir only stood slowly, angered by her obvious lack of inclusion of him. Usually it was the other way round if ever an elleth was in distress in Caras Galadhon and to have it so abruptly changed was like a sharp tack to his inflated ego.

Meanwhile Câlavendë realised she could do nothing since she could not see his wounds and she was most definitely not going to try and physically find them with her hands. She felt so frustrated at her inability to help, that if she were standing she would have stamped her foot for good measure. Rúmil gently took the weak feline from her arms and laid him on the soft moss. A sharp hiss of intaken breath was made as he closely observed the creature in front of him.

"Well look what we have here, the rare Ocelot. It lives in many woodland areas, but I have never seen one in Lothlorien. Look at this beauty, dark spots running from paws upwards before a creamy grey coat gradually fades them out. Tough little beast," he muttered lastly, ripping a cloth from the belt at his side and splashing some water from a tiny canteen onto it to wash the wounds.

"Some will need to be stitched," Orophin stated as he watched his brother's ministrations from above.

"I have a needle and thread, will that be enough?" Câlavendë offered, already reaching into the belt at her side to retrieve the hidden thread wheel and safely secured needle. Rúmil noted how the latter was crafted of mithril, clearly something of great value as most were wrought of silver, but made no comment.

He examined the broken front paw and thankfully it was a clean break, but it did mean once it had healed that he would be slightly weaker in one leg. The break proved to be difficult, especially with the Ocelot conscious of every move they made to try and push the bone back into place and bind it.

"We cannot reset this fracture with him lucid like this," Rúmil groaned and gently tied a cloth over the break.

He then threaded the needle and the Ocelot whined pitifully as his wounds were cleaned and stitched painstakingly slow. Each time the needle pierced the cat's tender skin Orophin had to hold him so that he would not move. When Câlavendë wasn't watching, the Ocelot used its other paw to strike out and scratch her arm and not long after lash out at Rúmil as he touched a particularly sensitive gash.  

"Curse you," Rúmil swore as the swift claws bit into his skin. "I'm afraid we will have to leave him like this. It is the best we can do."

Câlavendë faced Rúmil in horror.

"You mean to tell me that we are just to walk away whilst he is suffering! Have you taken leave of your senses?!"

At this point the slightly glowering Haldir decided that enough time had been wasted on one of his least favourite animals, rare or not, and that something had to be done or else they would never reach Caras Galadhon.

"Lady Suliel, we have not the time to heal and look after a feline. It is better if we let nature take its course."

Câlavendë stood abruptly and drew herself up to her full stature, shoulders back, head straight, hopefully in a posture that she remembered the Ladies of Dol Amroth using when they were about to disagree with a Lord. For once she did not care about wearing her hood, and her face mirrored her resentment. She was truly vexed at their total lack of concern or empathy. This one, brave, weak and injured Ocelot now had become more than just something to spite Haldir, she truly felt for its welfare and knew that if nature took its course there would be no hope for an animal of the wild. They were surely sending him down the lonely path to certain death.

"Forever is time enough. I will look after the Ocelot." If her eyes could have responded to emotions they would have flashed angrily, daring them to say no. Unfortunately Haldir took up the challenge, crossing his arms over his broad chest and glaring formidably at the audacious elleth.

"You are not keeping this Ocelot!"

 "You are not keeping this sparrow! You understand me? I will not be in the same room that a sparrow frequents and is welcomed by you."

We are in my palace chamber, where bolts of cloth ranging from the deepest blue to whitest white are to be found in row upon row, some leaning up against the comfortable and ingeniously crafted chaise, others against walls, cupboards and my writing stand. It may feel cluttered, but it is organised clutter and there is always light filtering through the open windows and reflected from my carefully chosen opalescent walls. It is good light, clean and direct; the light a seamstress needs so she can to work intricately on hems and sleeves, ties and clasps. My chamber adjoins onto the dressmaking studio through a heavy cloth curtain, a valued necessity.

I had not been expecting him, as he only came in the late evening, and so was startled when he suddenly appeared by my side, demanding that I listen to one of his many requests

"The sparrow, it must go. It has a presence which I find…," he searched for the perfect word, "…infuriating."

I try to hide my shock, how can he be so rude? Doesn't he know how my brother found this sparrow and gave it to me once it had healed? I'm sure I had told him of the little turquoise sparrow and her value to my brother and I. Kellipson, second eldest and apple of both my parent's eyes, fair as the sun upon the waves and master ship smith until the war had called him to arms. I had promised you, little brother, I would look after your sparrow whilst you fought, so you can find her safe when you come home to Dol Amroth, I will not cheat you of that joy.

"I – I – cannot, my love, it was a gift from my brother."

He turns to me, but I cannot see his face as it is in shadow and bright sunlight frames his striking form.

"Do it for me, darling," the word somehow sounds menacing coming from his perfect mouth. "Tell your brother the sparrow flew away, through your open window. He would never know." His voice as sweet as honey, yet its poison I would never realise till I am begging for my life over a crime I did not commit.

My face fell as I recognised his mood. A noble may slight him or refuse one of his many demands, and this enrages my love so much that he must relieve it. Sometimes this vent is a duelling partner, who would come back bruised and sore. Sometimes it is passion spent on using my body. And sometimes, sometimes it is by using his unique talent of blackmail to bend another's will that reinstates his feeling of superiority. I know what vent he is using now.

I see the sparrow, perching delicately on the back of one of my chairs. Preening her gorgeous feathers, she looks content and I feel, with certainty, that I don't want her to go. She is a piece of my beloved brother, and he is wishing to see her on his return, I will not deny him that, not after so long. Not while there is still hope he may come home alive. The refusal rises to my lips.

-There's a little bird, somebody's sent,

-Down to the earth, to live on the wind.

-Blowing on the wind.

"No… no. I will not. Please, do not make me. I cannot, I cannot," I whisper through my fear, as silent, silver tears course down my face. He is asking of me something that breaks my heart to do and he knows it. I imagine my brother, what terrors he may be facing and thinking of his little bird safe with Cala, safe until now.

-And she sleeps on the wind.

-This little bird, somebody's sent.

He steps towards me and I instinctively step away, shaking my head and trying to stare into his eyes, which are still in shadow. I let the unfinished embroidery fall forgotten from my fingers. Quickly he grasps my face in his hands and at last I see his golden eyes staring so hate filled into mine that I shut them in terror.

"You will do as I say, my sweet, because you love me."

-Light and fragile she's feathered sky blue

-Thin and graceful, the sun shining through.

I pull back violently out of his hands and my gaze is drawn to the little, carefree sparrow. Chirping softly and looking as innocent as a babe. I do not notice my tears of grief and indecision; the short, sharp breaths I take; the way my steady hands begin to shake so that clench them so hard my fingernails pierce my tender palm, no, only the tiny figure's infinite grace. I love my brother, yet I have my betrothed to please. Whose heart will I break, for mine was already torn long before? The brother. The lover. I do not want to choose, I should not have to choose.

The sparrow unexpectedly lifts her wings and swiftly flies to sit on my shoulder, a soft chirp from her and I know I cannot. I look towards him, resolute, and he sees the answer reflected in the steadiness of my mismatched gaze.

-She flies so high up into the sky

-Way out of reach of edhel eyes.

I can see him snarl and it turns his beautiful face grotesque. Without warning he rapidly reaches out and grasps my sparrow and I can hear her calling with alarm from inside his hand.

"NO!" I cry and the urgency I feel chokes me. I rush to attack him, hitting his chest with my bare hands, always saying no, no, not now, not ever, let her go. I am hysterical with grief and anger, he is hurting her, my sparrow, and I hit his face with a severity that I could never attempt in cold blood. He only lifts his hand far above me and my protests do not seem to worry him, as if I am only a tiny breeze trying to push a large rock. The twittering from above me grows louder and I increase my assault on him, but he is unyielding.

-And the only time that she touches the ground

-Is when this little bird…

All of a sudden from his closed hand there comes no sound and I stop, cautiously looking up at him in aghast. His face is impassive as the back of his unraised hand connects with my cheek with a force that snaps my head to the side and leaves me gasping for stolen breath. I watch his arm lower and his fist open so painstakingly slow. The lifeless form of a blue sparrow falls to the cold marbled floor. He leaves without a second glance, slamming the door of my chamber. I collapse to the ground, gently picking up the tiny bird and cradling her fragile, lifeless form to my body, rocking her and whispering a thousand apologies that fall too late on deaf ears.

…dies.

The memory burned.

"You are in no position to tell me what I can and cannot do, March Warden," Câlavendë replied icily, and began gathering her unruly hair into a knot and holding it in place with a smooth twig.

"I am only your escort, yes, and so unable to make any claim of you, but if I believe something that could harm Lothlorien is perhaps about to enter its very borders, it is my right to deny it access."

"You mean you think this Ocelot is going to go around killing Eldar in their sleep? Don't be absurd. You have more to fear from me, blind as I am, than from a simple Ocelot."

"You are a gamble I'm willing to take, especially since the Lady asked for you, yet I cannot say the same for the feline." Haldir swore the Ocelot hissed at him.

"For the love of Iluvatar, he is only a cat!" Câlavendë cried, gesturing in the direction of where Rúmil was still administering to him.

Haldir's eyes blazed with fury. "I said no and you will obey me, end – of – discussion."

Haldir thought he had won when she did not reply, but bent down to pick up her staff and lean it gently against the tree stump. He was mistaken.

"Orophin, your cloak please," sensing Orophin had no clue why she wanted his cloak in the middle of the day she explained further. "I will carry the Ocelot to Caras Galadhon, if I have to. There I will find treatment for him and I need your cloak to carry him in." She held out her hand expectantly.

"Do not even think of it brother," Haldir stated dryly from behind her.

Apparently Câlavendë ignored Haldir's comment. "Orophin, I am waiting…"

"Orophin if you give her that cloak I promise you I will – "

"Orophin, don't listen to him, just hand me your –"

"OROPHIN!"

The aforementioned raised his hand and both Câlavendë and Haldir's mouths shut immediately.

"Ah, Rúmil, apart from now wanting to change my name, are they trying to include me in their little argument?"

"It appears so, brother." Rúmil feigned wiping away a tear of sympathy as Orophin rested his chin on his hand in thought.

"So, what shall I do about it?" Orophin asked.

Rúmil stood and glanced at the now silent arguing pair who were hanging on their every word. "Well, on one hand we could give the cloak to Lady Suliel and be eternally indebted to her, but receive eternal Banquet Hall duties from Haldir…OR…we don't give the cloak to Lady Suliel and be frowned upon by a cursed elleth who could spread vicious rumours about our…size…but be absolved of all our wrongdoings by Haldir and never have to wash the inside of a plate again. Ahh, the choices one must make!"

Câlavendë said nothing and waited for them to continue. She could feel the tension radiating from Haldir and repressed a smile at his discomfit.

"I think I may have a solution," the tension visibly increased. "Why don't we flip a blade? If it falls on the engraved side we hand the cloak to Lady Suliel and Haldir does not give us any more duties, because it is an even chance. Then if it falls on the non-engraved side we keep the cloak, Haldir retracts his decree on our duties and Lady Suliel agrees to not spread untruthful rumours about us. Well, what do you say?"

For a moment Haldir and Câlavendë struggled to control their rage, both did not want the outcome to be made upon a spinning dagger. Finally Câlavendë assented.

"Only if he agrees to let me go to Caras Galadhon carrying the Ocelot if I win."

"Agreed. And if I win, the Ocelot stays here. How is your luck these days, elleth?" Haldir replied smoothly.

"Better than yours, March Warden," she all but spat back. Haldir's breath fanned her ear and his tone made her skin crawl.

"Who said I was talking about good luck?"

Orophin took out his dagger and with all eyes upon him held it from the tip then threw it high into the air.

Câlavendë hoped with all her heart it would fall her way. It spun swiftly. Engraved. Not. Câlavendë. Haldir. Yes. No. The time seemed to stretch forever and her stomach tightened involuntarily as she heard the whipping sound as it descended and landed with a dull thud.

"It is … engraved. Here is the cloak you requested Lady Suliel."

Haldir cursed the fates profusely. He cursed his brothers and even cursed himself for making a promise that his own pride forbade him from breaking. Without a word Câlavendë took the cloak from Orophin gently and knelt to rap the injured Ocelot in it, ignoring the painful scratches she received in the process, and tied it across her so it laid against her abdomen. The she did not even wait for them as she proceeded to hesitantly pick up her staff and slowly walk away. She swore she could hear an arrow being put to string, drawn taught and aimed at her retreating back.

"Haldir?!" Oropin reproached, appalled.

"Stop putting your edhel ears in a twist brother. You know I would never do it, why would I want tainted blood on a nice arrow like this,… but I had to indulge myself for a moment." He took the arrow from his bow and put it back into his quiver. He then caught up to Câlavendë and took the lead again. He noticed a gnarled familiar branch not far ahead and, distantly, the sound of a swift flowing river.

"The river is not far from here," adding under his breath, "thank the Valar."

"River?" Câlavendë asked tentatively.

"Celebrant, or Silverlode as it is called in Westron. Caras Galadhon is on the Naith, the grand spearhead that lies between the rivers Celebrant and Anduin the Great. We must cross the river to reach Lorien and Caras Galadhon." Orophin enlightened her and as he spoke she could begin to hear the roar of Celebrant and feel its swift force. The river when she came to its bank, felt powerful to her keen senses. It's clear sparkling water, foamed and turned in eddies and about large rocks, so familiar to Haldir it was comforting to know it was still constant in a world full of change.

"How are we to cross?" Câlavendë had concentrated for a couple of moments to sense the area, but she could find no bridge to cross the cold, deep river.

"Well, I throw the end of a rope over to the other side where a sentinel will tie it to a tree on the far-shore and we anchor it as well on our bank. Then we walk, run or dance across it to the other side. Quite simple if you ask me." Rúmil stated matter-of-factly, watching Câlavendë's face transform into a mask of certain dread and for a moment wondering why she had not pulled her hood over her features as she usually did. Câlavendë knew the wardens could accomplish it, even dance across it like Rumil had said, yet without out sight and burdened by the Ocelot it would be no simple feat for her.

Orophin whistled and a Warden on the opposite shore appeared from what looked to be the very ground itself. The hithlain, the silver rope of Lorien, was expertly thrown over and knotted securely from both ends. Rúmil and Haldir were the first to cross, not wavering or showing imbalance, instead it seemed as though they were running across a flat highway, not a mere finger width of strong cord. 

Before Câlavendë crossed Orophin spoke gently to her, "I stay on this side for only a little while more, but I shall be in Caras Galadhon by morning. It was a pleasure to make your acquaintance Lady Suliel."

She realised with finality, it was an end to their short friendship, swiftly cut by a few words. Comrades on the road were not friends at the inn. She berated herself for being so naïve. It had been so long without any companionship that a little kindness, a little civility and she thought they would be her guides within Caras Galadhon, perhaps joke with her, let her stay with them…oh how foolish she had been. The revelation cut deep as she had just begun to relax, to count herself among friends, yet prejudice runs strong and a mere day is not enough to dispel the fear.  "But what of your cloak?"

"The night will be warm, so I have no need of it. Once you no longer require it approach any Warden and ask them to deliver the cloak to me."

Câlavendë tried to keep the hurt from her voice; she was not even to associate with him directly. If the knife of prejudice had hit her heart, it had now been ricked painfully. "Thankyou, Orophin. May the Valar bless and keep you safe."

The rope was above her and Câlavendë caught hold of the branch and climbed slowly up to the 'bridge.' The tough wood felt solid and living beneath her hands and it's presence comforted where she now stood. She focused her mind so that the hithlain glowed silver in her mind and stepped carefully onto it, her heart in her mouth. That first step was always the hardest not knowing whether the rope would suddenly come loose and fall out beneath her so that she stepped onto air. It had been as a very young elleth when she had last attempted something like this, and though she had never fallen she knew the danger was immense. Once away from the tree and fully onto the makeshift bridge she had to find her centre of gravity or risk falling to the icy depths below. Her staff became a guide to where to put her foot next along the line and it was a slow and terrifying task, knowing that either side there is nothing to stop you from falling into the icy current.

About halfway along the makeshift bridge the Ocelot accidentally dug its claws through the cloth and into her soft skin. The sharp pain upset Câlavendë's focus, causing her to sway dangerously to the left. Careful, careful she reprimanded herself and with a wave of certainty new Haldir was silently laughing to himself. She contemplated just falling into the river and being carried to the sea, which she knew and loved in the tiny moment between continuing to fall and still being able to right herself. The ocean did not assess her soul on whether she fitted the edhel mould to perfection. Only the fierce fighting spirit that helped her survive for so long willed her to not give up, not while there was some hope in the world. The hope that others could be found of the same disposition as Shaneth, rare as they are, there must be another who sees behind the physical shell and the wind would lead her to them.

She focused again and continued on, shuffling with one arm outstretched at her side and the other using the staff to lightly trace the rope ahead. When her staff thumped into the wood of the mallorn on the Naith, she sighed greatly in relief, resisting the urge to kiss the ground when she had descended.

Haldir whistled and Orophin, who had remained on the opposite bank, retracted the hithlain, waved his hand in farewell and retreated back to the borders of Lorien.

Rúmil was staring curiously at her, "What happened out there, on the bridge?"    

"Hrmm?" Her fright was receading, but being replaced by something else, something deeper. "Oh, Kellipson decided to claw me," Câlavendë responded vaguely patting the furry bundle. For some reason she felt confused like a presence was beside her and also everywhere – in the air she breathed, in the grass below her feet. It surrounded her.

"How quaint. Now you are naming the vermin and where, pray tell, does that pathetic name come from?" Haldir arched his eyebrow in mockery. His contempt snapped her thoughts away from the overwhelming presence.

Cala, let it go, just breathe, he knows not what he says… "It was my brother's name," she whispered softly and drew her hood back over her painfully sorrowful features. The black tide she had just begun to awaken from upon entering Lorien, filled her mind again with grief and loneliness, the past was inescapable and future bleak.

Haldir almost felt guilt, if he could somehow progress past the fact that she was causing him far too much trouble for one escort, but Rúmil turned his head away in disgust of Haldir's manner.

To Câlavendë as her despair began to overwhelm her the presence suddenly intensified; flowing around and through her till it reached within the darkness to a pinpoint of light, Câlavendë's one and only hope. The light began to subtly grow and from it a voice so soothing, so beautiful and wise entered her tired heart.

Welcome Lady Câlavendë to Laurelindórenan. You have long been expected.

ATTENTION: if you are tired of waiting for my next chapter I suggest you read either my other story which is complete "Of Silver Roses". If you finish that "A Tangled Web" by Nienna Nir and also "The Price of a Rose" by Angelus Feles. They are well worth the read so go ahead, take a chance and be immersed in wonderfully written stories.

-------------------------

Again Thankyou to Nienne Nir: thanx for your help!! Totally understand. I hate the fanfics with a girl falls into ME – way to predictable!!  Bratprincess: chants with her 'haldir haldir haldir' – hrmm, my button sometimes appears blue other times purple?! Strange. Look after your laptop!! Sokochan: sorry about not updating for so long, forgive me. Galadriels judgement :next! Sarah: yes I did write the song myself and R and O should be in a lot more fanfics – theya re beautiful! Aimless-37: I also anticipate your next review – thankyou so much for your wonderful support. Cam: nice to see you again, sorry about the wait!! Caramel: sorry I didn't update sooner! Crystalline: I'm glad you see the same way as me with sad and joy in a fanfic, hope you enjoyed the chapter! Lalita: you're wonderful and you know it!! Yes, probably more than 20 chaps!! Andrea/Vaesse: thankyou humbly bows and I apologise whole-heartedly for your wait!! Yami Ray:  I really must have got on your nerves with the wait, sorry, accept this chapter as an apology. Trust me, this originality will work!! Kallastron: no, Cala did not commit the murder, if it's not obvious it soon will be as we delve more into her past!! Originality is my mantra! Luckylily: H and C will be bickering for a long while yet!! Moonbunny77: yes, I am all for competent females, but they all have a weakness and all have their secrets! Elenwe:  I'm not saying if she will or won't regain sight, that is still a turning point I haven't decided on, the answer will become clear in the end. All hail originality! Laivin: glad you understand my updating-problem!! I will read your story. Jfrog: hello!! Glad to see you again. Will keep writing just for you, lol!! ME: I am very very glad you liked it, I have many people say they like the writing and concept, but not the entire piece, thankyou. Lady Deidra: Tears are good for the soul and I am happy that my story was able to touch your emotions so. That to me is ultimate praise as a writer for the people!

Notes: Laurelindorenan: "Land of the Valley of Singing Gold" I really, really apologise so much for this late chapter, but I have been rushed off my feet and I truly like to give my all in these chapters – I want to give you a story that's characters are alive and I can only do that by spending time on it. I thankyou whole heartedly for your patience and can only say that perhaps using Author Alerts would be good if you want to know a.s.a.p when I have updated again. Muchos besos!! ……. If you have a friend suggest this fanfic to them if you like it. The more people this is able to touch and open their hearts to, the more I have fulfilled one of my dreams.