A/N: Here you are my readers! Lovely long chapter for you! And thank you all for my lovely reviews! Very much appreciated. Now let me know what you think of this one.

Long weeks passed, becoming months, then a year. And still, Haldir remained 'her' Haldir. When she looked back over that year of change, when he had first come to her, out of sheer desperation and asked for her help, and she had given it warily, she smiled to think of it. It was not in her to refuse him, or any. But when she gave it, he had changed so rapidly that it left even her breathless. Perhaps this was the real Haldir after all.

Despite Haldir's change of spirit, she had thought that the love she felt for him would fade away, and become nothing more than a passing warmth, a dream. Their friendship, she had assumed, would be sufficient to sustain her. But she was wrong. Her feelings for him, her need of him only grew. Loving him became all the easier with his gentle words of thanks and admiring glances. But despite this, she remained a little wary of him. She wasn't sure if she was entirely ready to forgive him completely, even after all this time and she certainly wasn't ready to forget the old Haldir's ways, chasing an elleth, promising her the world to get her into bed, than leaving the next morn. It had only been a year, and he had chased others for longer.

She would not let him touch her very much. He knew her thoughts. He knew she feared she was like the others, like a prize he would give everything to chase, than cast aside once he had had. But she was wrong. He could no longer fight the moment of truth in all his lies to himself. He needed her. As he had needed no other. As he needed his next breath. When they walked together under the silent boughs of Lorien (basket of laundry firmly in his arms), he shielded her from the gaze of all others, not able to share even the very sight of her with another.

He rarely let her go to the market alone anymore, afraid that if he could not see her, she would be lost to him. The stays on the fences were a necessary separation he endured, but always he was anxious to return to her. However, he knew he had every right to be concerned. Orophin, whilst being a good ellon, with a good heart, could not help himself; he had to see what it was that had his brother so captivated. So, during one of the few times that his brother was on the fences, and he was not, Orophin saw to it that he 'accidentally' ran into Cahra.

"Oh!" exclaimed Cahra, as the basket of goods tumbled from her hands, sending fruit cascading around their feet. She bent over to pick them up.

"Excuse me, my dear. Allow me to assist you," he said gallantly, before kneeling down to help her with the fruit. She looked up at the ellon warily. It was no accident he had run into her.

"My Lord, there are easier and, might I add," she said, looking at the bruised softer fruit, now inedible, "Cheaper ways of getting my attention." Orophin had enough grace to look slightly sheepish. "Forgive me Lady." He said charmingly, bowing low to her, but she just shook her head at him, leaving him, standing there in the middle of the market. "I must be going now."

Orophin ran to catch up to her, a little confused. She had walked away from him? He looked at the little elleth a second time. There was nothing remarkable about her, her skin slightly brown from being in the sun, unlike the pale white that most of the Ladies where. He wondered naughtily for a moment whether all of her was that colour, before shaking his head to clear himself of his delusions. No, she was not beautiful, or even pretty. But she was captivating.

"Can I ask you a question, Lady?" he said, walking beside her, not even bothering to help with the heavy load she carried. Not that she minded, but if he was going to tarry her with questions, the least he could do was make himself useful.

"Who are you?" she asked, matter-of-factly, turning to look at him, one hand on her hip.

"Forgive me. I am Orophin, Haldir's brother." He said, watching her carefully to see her reaction. And he wasn't to be disappointed. She burst out laughing.

"I should have known!" She said amidst her laughter. "Tell me. Did you really beg Haldir to teach you how to sew in order to gain elleths attentions?" she said, getting straight to the point. He again looked sheepish.

"Ahh…yes. I did. And it worked. Would you like me to show you?" he asked hopefully, an amorous glint coming into his eyes, having forgotten Haldir's warning quite suddenly, as his most cunning, but less intelligent body part began to make the decisions for him. There was something appealing about her little figure. She shook her head.

"I taught Haldir, Orophin. Or did you forget as the flow of blood to most of the parts of your body has been stopped?" she asked, a little smile on her face. And once more, Orophin looked sheepish. "You are quite….Ahh…perceptive, Lady,' he said, making no effort to hide his embarrassment. He lived his life unafraid of such emotions, and her rejection did not hurt him in any way whatsoever. If she wasn't willing, there were plenty who were. He realized then that they were outside Haldir's talan. "Would you like to come in, Haldir's brother?" she asked, emphasizing his brothers name. He knew when he was beaten.

"No, thank you Lady, but I would like to ask you a question." He said, leaning against the door post.

"Well then, here, hold this," She said, thrusting the heavy weight of her basket at him, and he stumbled under the unexpected burden for a moment, as she opened the door to Haldir's talan. She took the load off of him, placing it inside the door, before turning to face him. "Now what is it that you need to know, Haldir's brother?" she asked, a playful light in her eyes.

"How did you do it?" Orophin blurted out, unable to stop himself. She looked at him, confused.

"Do what?"

"Tame the wild Haldir," He said, with more than a trace of amusement behind his genuine curiosity. She continued just to stare at him, before recovering. "I think it was the whip," she said solemnly. Orophin eyes widened.

"I knew it!" he exclaimed under his breathe, and Cahra closed her eyes in exasperation, shaking her head.

"I did nothing, Orophin," she said quietly. He nodded his head, a little disappointed, before turning to leave. Just as she turned to go inside, he turned to face her again.

"I refuse to believe that. Was it a whip?" he asked eagerly, determined to get an answer. She just looked at him strangely. "Rope? Blackmail? A blade? Hot wax?" he listed, trying desperately to uncover the secret of her hold over Haldir. She just continued to stare at him strangely, before closing the door in his face. "That's it," he told himself, as he went to find a more amicable elleth to spend some time with. "It's the hot wax. It has to be." He stopped for a moment on the path in shock. His brother? There was no way that he was that….kinky! he thought to himself, before shaking such thoughts of his brother from his head. He no longer needed an elleth though.

Haldir returned from the fences the next day, to find Cahra in her familiar place by the fire. He allowed himself a small, gentle smile at the sight, before going to greet her. "Cahra. How have you been? Missing me terribly?" he asked, a little boyishly. She smiled up at him, an evil glint coming into her eyes. "Actually, no. Your brother saw that I did not miss you for a moment." she said, smiling cheekily. Haldir turned first reed, than white.

"Orophin? He was here? When? Are you alright?" he asked softly, his voice becoming dangerous in the suddenly very small talan. Did he touch you, his mind screamed, but he would not ask her that. She was not his.

She looked at him, a little surprised. "Of course I am fine, Haldir, why wouldn't I be? It was just Orophin."

He sank down by her feet on the ground. "Trust me, Cahra, the words 'Just Orophin' have never been used together before," he said, closing his eyes and pinching the bridge of his nose. Would it look bad if he were to kill his own brother? Yes. Yes it would. He would settle for reiterating his warning to him then.

"And don't you even think about going and lording your authority over him, Haldir. He was perfectly polite, even if he did proposition me…."

"HE WHAT!"

"Settle down Haldir. He was joking. He just wanted to know about how I 'gained my hold over you'." She quoted, smiling at him mischievously. His anger faded. He never could stay angry when she was being playful. He smiled reluctantly up at her.

"So what did you tell him?" he asked, a little cautiously.

"I told him that it was the whip." She said, not looking up from her sewing. Haldir laughed at this.

"Has my change of spirit been that obvious, that evident?" he asked, knowing the answer already.

"Well, I don't know Haldir. You tell me. What would you call going from the self proclaimed Lord of Lorien to Friend of the Wash Maid in the space of a day?" It as Haldir's turn to look sheepish. He was happy to be home, and even happier to see her.

When he had first walked in, he had stopped himself from taking her in his arms at the very last moment. Her head was down, concentrating on her stitching, so she did not see his arms reach for her, even for those few seconds.

He realized that night, when sleep refused to claim him, that despite having known her for so long there was still much of Cahra he did not know. Much more he wanted to know. Needed to know. He could not move the image of her from his mind, nor did he want to. He felt as though he was losing his mind. He needed to touch her so much, that he could not help himself anymore. He crept from his talan, into hers that night, unable to be without her. And he stood by her bedside, watched her in reverie for that long night, feeling all the more rested when he crept out the next morning before she woke, just for having been with her. He told himself that he would never allow himself such a moment of selfish weakness again, but the next night, he still found himself by her bed. This time, he sat upon it, tracing the line of her hand with a finger so gently, he himself could not be sure whether he touched her or not. She did not stir. He gradually got braver, tracing the contours of her hand, her arm, her shoulder, her face, committing them all to memory. He admitted to himself than that he could not live without her.

He went to her every night after that, when she was deeply asleep, getting gradually braver, until his need for her drove him to holding her to him for a few precious moments. He needed to be with her. He knew the risk he ran of losing her if she awoke to find him in her bed, knew what she would think he was there for, but could not help himself anymore. He needed those few hours when she slept, when he could be selfish just for a little while, and be with her.

He pulled her to him as she slept on, knowing that he would have to leave her before she woke, and prayed to the Valar that he could find the words to tell her how he felt, without driving her away. The fragile relationship they had was built on friendship, and he was most reluctant to endanger it. And he prayed again that she would not wake to find him sleeping with her, like a frightened child. For he knew if she did find him here, it could cause more hurt than he could ever do intentionally.

In the past year, she had come to trust him, and such a fragile trust could easily be broken. If she saw him there, she would think he had come to seduce her. And she couldn't be more wrong. It was not lust that drove him to her bed. It was because that in her bed, in her arms, he was the closest to himself that he had ever been. And that frightened him, but he could no longer live without it. That night was particularly bright, the moon high in the sky, and he knew he should not have risked it, but he could not bare to be without her. He looked down.

And he saw the one thing that threatened to break him and make him whole all at once. Her eyes were open. And the disappointment in her eyes at finding him in her bed spoke all that needed to be said. He caressed her cheek, pretending the disappointment in her features hadn't made her body stiff with distrust, placed a single kiss atop her forehead, tears threatening his eyes, before throwing himself from the bed, and to his own talan. There, the combination of wine and darkness wiled away the time, and the pain that threatened to consume him. He had ruined whatever small chance he had ever had, of having his Cahra.

A/N : OHH! Cliffhanger!lol. don't shoot me!