Chapter Summary: Silmarien learns much about her lover's culture from her Queen. Her lessons are going smoothly, and yet she discovers she is the subject of vicious gossip. Barahir becomes the target of a dangerous woman's plot for power. Will he let Mari save him the pain of false love, or will she be forced to put her cunning to use?

Shout Outs:

Terreis :dies laughing: Elrohir babbles because it's a weakness. That's hilarious! And I'm glad you like the Faramir/Eowyn bit. Had to throw that in. Hehe, you only said that the ring was shiny because of my email signature. And I just write as well as I can, the emotions are all on you!

Jousting Elf With A Saber – Glorfindel wouldn't do that…maybe if you stop calling him Glorfy, though…try Glory.

Andromeda-1971 – Hehe. Yeah, there's an elf for ya. Instant hunk, just throw Sandro Kopp into a pair of tights and give him pointy ears.

Mercury Gray - Sappy and cutesy is needed in sprinkled measures, I'm afraid. And yes, Denethor is a coot, and Eowyn knows it, but likes him anyway!

Roisin Dubh - Glorfindel is well on his way to discovering that he simply cannot live without Silmarien. He will soon declare to anyone who will listen that he is in love.

The day was cool and yet warm enough for a venture into the gardens in mid-September. Arwen sat upon a stone bench in the shade of a tall tree, a book of elven poetry in her hands. To the jealous murmuring of the court of the White City, her frequent companion Silmarien sat with her in the royal gardens. Arwen had offered favor to few other women of court and even fewer had shown themselves worthy of it. The Queen had discovered that she was feared and mistrusted by those who were unused to a ruler of any decent other than Gondorian. Only one other than Mari defended her queen against the court, and yet her defense was weak, for her heart was shy and quiet. Arwen invited the woman into her company, thus offering her protection through rank, gently tutoring her into a more stout-heartedness.

As Arwen gave Silmarien lines in Sindarin to recite, the mild lady Elemmírë listened as well, sharing a bowl of strawberries and cream with her companions.

"Tolo, man le carel si?" Silmarien spoke effortlessly. "Hollen i ven!"

"Mae carnen, Silmarien," Arwen smiled, closing the book. "I think we shall conclude the lesson for today. You have recited half the poem!"

"Ah! I thought it would never end," Mari laughed good-naturedly, taking a strawberry. "It is a long poem."

"Yes, I am afraid the poets of my people are long-winded. But you chose it, and I shall make you finish it!"

"Oh, but it is such a lovely language," Elemmírë said softly. "I do not mind listening to such a long poem if it is in such a fair speech, and as well spoken as Silmarien recites."

"Thank you, Mírë," Silmarien flushed with the pleasure of such praise. Elemmírë was a good friend and a tenacious spirit when one delved beneath the quiet shyness of her manner, which took some doing at times. The three companions made their way into the gardens allowed to the court, a servant gathering up the empty bowl and the blanket on which Mari had been sitting. They were laughing until the daughter of Denethor saw something that made her heart race with apprehension.

Not far off stood Lady Alfirin, who was well known to have coquettish ways if her fancy took to a man. The courtiers mostly looked the other way, forgiving her the folly. But standing beside her, holding her hand, nay kissing it was one who would be most greivously lost to her. Lord Barahir of Dol Amroth had arrived but two days ago on an errand for his father, and it seemed the artful gaze of Alfirin had been set upon him.

Arwen and Elemmírë too were surprised by this, for they both knew Alfirin to have a rutheless, greedy spirit. Elemmírë paled, for she knew that Lord Barahir had been hurt by Silmarien's acceptance of Lord Glorfindel, and yet it was with graciousness that he went to his cousin and wished her all possible joy. Yet this would utterly destroy him!

"I beg leave, my lady," Silmarien said to her queen without looking at her. Arwen understood and nodded.

Going to the couple who seemed not to see her until she was at their side, Silmarien greeted her cousin with a courtsey. "Pray forgive me, Barahir," she smiled. "I must steal away Alfirin for a moment on a matter of some importance. Lady, will you walk with me a while?"

Alfirin seemed unabashed by this sudden request and courtsied to Barahir who had released her hand. Silmarien's cousin bowed and went to the Queen, who beckoned him with a soft smile.

"You are well, I hope," Alfirin smiled, ignoring the ungentle hold Silmarien had upon her arm as they began to walk.

"Speak not of idleness," Silmarien said irritatedly. "What mean you, false woman, by blinding my cousin to reason?"

"What, you wish to have him to yourself? Vain Silmarien, you cannot have two suitors! What can you say against me, that I have granted his suit? If so, I will not deny the truth."

"Is this so?" Silmarien asked, astonished. "Has he asked your permission to court you?"

"Yes, and I have accepted," Alfirin replied with a victorious smile. Her eyes glittered at her long-time foe with a cold light. "Are you so against your cousin's happiness that you deny him yourself and anyone else he could love?"

"He does not know what true love is. You will destroy him with your pretended longings, your false appreciation of him."

"My appreciation of him is not false! He is a noble man, and his rank suits him."

"Wicked Alfirin!" Silmarien hissed. "You have always been as a hoard of locusts, seeking out a plentiful land and gorging yourself upon its bounty. When you have eaten the last grain of wheat, you lick your lips and move on for it is no longer of use to you. And so you flutter from man to man, seeping his gold from him until there is nothing left that he can give you. It ends here. I will not let you slay Barahir in such a cruel manner, for he has had enough heartbreak."

"Speak to thy cousin then, oh mighty Silmarien, for I fear you not. If he desires to part from me, then it will be his decision, and I shall make it as difficult as can be. You have your own troubles to deal with, I think. It is said that you had been alone with the Lord Glorfindel before he left, and much had happened. How much longer will it be now, until you discover that you carry his child?"

Had they not been within sight of the Queen and Barahir himself, Silmarien would have struck Alfirin for her audacious remarks. Instead, she assumed the role of the shrewd raven that her people had bestowed lovingly upon her. Her own eyes glittered with a light that was equally bright and even more fierce than her foe's.

"You have battled with me for many years, Alfirin," Silmarien whispered dangerously. "Only now are you brave enough to declare war, when something precious to me is at stake. But it seems, after so many years, you know me not! Were you there, upon the Pelennor when Mordor attacked? Did you have a sword in your hand when Faramir was stricken from his horse? Did you bear armor when orcs swarmed Minas Tirith? No, you were hiding in Lebannin, where it was deemed safe. Even my sister Rhoswen remained, when you ran in fear. I know war, and how to fight it, and still you seek to combat me. I say to you now that I will have no mercy. I shall make you fear me, before I am finished."

Silmarien then left Alfirin, who stood in silence. This did not bode well for her, and she knew it. The city's Raven had claws and a caw that was heard by many and often heeded. It seemed that she had swallowed herself up in a business of which she did not know the depth.

"I shall make as much trouble for her as I can before my deeds are known," she said to herself in a strange sort of comfort.

Sindarin Translations:

Tolo, man le carel si? Come, what are you doing here?

Hollen i ven! The way is shut!

Mae carnen. Well done.