*Song - The Rose, by Bette Midler

Legolas spare time allowed him to fulfil his word and spent time with the children. On the second level, in front of the fire the children sat on the large fur rugs, listening and laughing. With Tauriel by his side, he answered numerous questions concerning his time away. The children were particularly interested in learning about their home, how the elves lived in a cave within a forest.

Tauriel delighted in regaling them with tales of Thranduil.

But when the topic turned to fashionable woodland attire and games played, he left them. Tauriel, so enamoured with the children, was pleased to take charge and continue the discussion.

Exiting the manor, Legolas found night was falling; the darkening sky without stars as the promised storm approached. In the darkness, he saw a solitary figure unmoving, looking out at nothing.

He softened his footsteps and approached. "Baradon?"

Baradon didn't jump or sound surprised when he returned the greeting, "Sindar."

"Why are you standing out here?"

"Thinking," he said. "Laeron's over there. He and some of the other invited your elves to ale and a friendly game of wrestling. Laeron reckons he can beat them."

"You disagree?"

Baradon shrugged, "Are the elves as good as you?"

Legolas broke a smile. "Some are as good." Baradon didn't reply.

"Why are you not with them?"

"Why aren't you?" Baradon replied quietly.

Legolas drew a deep breath and tried a different approach. "How is Celegeth?

"Devastated."

Head tilted, Legolas studied his friend's face, "There is more than just the loss of the house?"

Baradon struggled, "Celegeth thinks she may be with child- but it is too soon to be certain."

"So soon?" Legolas blurted, "You have only been married six weeks."

"When one is in love-" Baradon's blushed, but his face remained serious. "If she's right, I have no home for them."

"You have a home here. Many families live within the walls." Legolas looked around them at Carthal, ancient fortress, patched back together once more. Faced with constant threat, it was far from Legolas' first choice to raise a child.

"It is not as I had planned."

"Life follows no plan. If it did, where do the challenges come?" The irony of his words weren't lost on Legolas and he smiled warmly, "Do not despair." Breathing in the calm air, Legolas smiled, "Come, let us go down and join them before the blizzard locks us all inside."

"You're injured. Eryndes will flog you for tearing your stitches."

"True," he laughed. "Then you will join them in my stead and show my elves just how well my rangers fight."

Baradon smile grew, "Your rangers?"

Legolas smirked at Baradon's proud features. Gone was the shy young man of a few months ago.

There stood a confident and honourable fellow. "You are my students, are you not?" "Your rangers will do you proud," Baradon agreed firmly, beaming.

Legolas took his shoulder for a heartbeat, then pushed him forth wryly. "Come. A fine gift awaits your first born if you toss Gell to his backside on my behalf."

Down on the snow-covered grass, the closing blizzard on the horizon, Legolas watched.

Their friendly competition of rangers and elves had grown an audience. Elves and rangers alike held mugs of ale. Some sparred and played to the offside. Elves mixed with rangers. Telling stories and swapping techniques.

In the centre of the circle two elves fought two rangers, demonstration how effective working together would prove.

It was a welcome sight. Legolas knew Aragorn would heartily approve.

"I've have thought Faron would've wanted in. He's the best of us at hand to hand." Legolas raised an eyebrow.

Laeron quickly stammered to add, "Of course I mean the best of us rangers. Everyone knows you bested Faron in the games."

"Indeed." He scanned the faces of those watching and moving around the compound in the fading light. Laeron was right. This was the perfect opportunity for Faron to exhibit himself. But the man was absent. "Indeed. I admit yearning for a battle between him and Tauriel."

"Who'd you wager?"

Legolas easily answered Camaenor's question, "Tauriel."

"I'd take that bet," Gell called from the other side of the circle. "Laeron, go find the captain Tauriel and Faron."

"Tauriel is with the children," Legolas announced, stopping Laeron and addressing Gell. Much of his dislike had died upon learning Eryndes bore the ranger no affection. But he still didn't like the man. Indeed, he revelled in the blackened eye marring Gell's handsome face. Legolas was now happily indebted for one fine gift to Baradon's first born. "Another time. I promise the wager will be worth the wait."

Gell sneered, "I'd take you on for no wager."

"You'd take on an injured warrior?" Baradon growled, "Where's your pride?"

"Injured or not," Legolas smirked with a wink at Baradon, "Gell's blackened eye would heal better once planted it in the snow."

Gell laughed heartily. "When the little scratch on your back heals, we shall see whom plants whose face."

Legolas joined in the laughter, so did the others. Just then the familiar bell sounded. "(We have a date)," he agreed, and they broke up, meandering towards the manor for dinner.

.

"What is this?"

They were all packed into the great hall and surrounds. Those wanting ale with theirs sat on the ground or found a place to rest mug or plate. Neither Legolas nor Tauriel elected to have ale and took to nursing their plates out in the hallway where the noise was lessened.

"They call them faggots," Legolas chortled, spearing one. "Leftover animal parts they couldn't find a use for, ground and wrapped up into parcels made from intestines. Traditional recipe in these parts; they are proud." Smothering his fork fill in gravy, he smiled, "Dúnedain cuisine takes time to stomach."

Tauriel peered closely, "You do not ask for better food? Even poor folk could afford a plate of better food for their honoured guest."

Chewing just long enough, he swallowed. "You get used to it."

Resigned, Tauriel brought the fork to her mouth and nibbled. Her eyes shot open, and she glared at him.

"Eat. You don't want to offend your hosts."

With a screwed-up face, Tauriel obeyed and put the whole faggot in her mouth.

Foruyndes came around a group of elves to their side. "Enjoying dinner?"

Legolas scrutinised her closely, "Are you well? When I paid you a visit not three hours ago, you were sleeping and strictly confined to bed."

"It comes and goes," Foruyndes waved her hand. "Now, if you think I'm going to rest comfortably while you make a mess of things, you're the one with the ill mind."

"What mess?"

Foruyndes pointed between him and Tauriel with a crooked finger, "You two spend decent time together. Are you courting?"

Tauriel's eyes were wide-

When he snorted, Tauriel's outrage turned to surprise. "You have not met Tauriel-"

"You are Foruyndes!" Tauriel abruptly exclaimed, holding out her hand in human gesture, "My lord Sindar has told me all about his great friend."

Foruyndes took her hand but peered in closer at her, "You're a pretty thing, aren't you?"

"Ah, thank you-"

"Well, if you're not courting Sindar then make room for others."

Tauriel looked from Foruyndes to him, then back again, "You wish to court my lord?"

"Ha!" Foruyndes cackled, then coughed into her hand.

Legolas frowned, hating the sound coming from her lungs, "Foruyndes, perhaps you should return to your bed?"

"I'm fine, lad," she turned back to Tauriel, "An old woman like me courting a young man? Pish!"

"I am no man," Legolas put in quietly. "Nor am I young."

Tauriel's smile grew, and she stepped back, "Please, mistress, I am thrilled to meet you. May I fetch you anything? Tea? A plate of these faggots?"

Foruyndes shuffled closer and stood next to Legolas, "I'm the one who gives out the honeywells, girly."

"Honeywells?" Tauriel looked at Legolas.

"Treats and such," he explained fondly. "Her other claim to fame is keeper of secrets."

Foruyndes' mirth died, "And yes, the secrets of late have been most unfavourable. To you Sindar."

"What secrets?" Tauriel asked.

Foruyndes braced herself against Legolas' arm, "Most of the folk are of the opinion that it was she who imposed upon you-"

"Me?"

"Not you, girly," Foruyndes shook her head. "They believe she shamelessly chased you and were so insulted you took your leave for the south."

Legolas put his arm around Foruyndes to steady her. She was too frail to be standing, "That is very untrue. Should you not take ease in a chair?"

"They believe you keep distance now because you're so disgusted by her and her insult thinking a lord, an elven lord would ever lower himself to her level."

"Utter nonsense," Tauriel growled.

"The amusing thing is she doesn't correct them. She says it's the truth to any who ask."

He frowned, a queasy feeling rising in his stomach and not caused by dinner. "Why?"

Foruyndes slapped his arm, "Defending your name, laddie, why else?"

He blinked. "My name?"

"There are some who say a time back she threw herself at you like a wanton harlot. That you took your fill of her and now done with her."

Tauriel gasped, "That is a filthy lie."

The world grew hazy in front of Legolas-

"They say Sindar tossed her, leaving her . . . soiled. impure. Unworthy of honour or honourable marriage."

The words Tauriel and Foruyndes spoke sounded far away against the blood pooling in his ears.

"That's despicable."

Foruyndes nodded, "But by allowing blame to fall on her, Sindar's name is saved from far worse."

"Why not deny both?"

"Better the lesser of two evils? Especially when the truth is not known. Nought would believe 'nothing' happened."

"Why would her own people spread such vicious gossip?"

Foruyndes clucked her tongue, "Because, girly, Eryndes is mistress. Control of Carthal is hers. There are some who don't like that and tried to control her before and failed. Now, by tarnishing her name, what respectable man will want her?" Foruyndes turned her gaze directly to him, "How else can she prove these rumours false without undergoing the humiliation of an 'examination' of her virtue?"

"How is virtue examined?" Tauriel asked, horrified.

"Lay on the table, lift up your skirts and be examined by a healer to an audience of peers."

Legolas found his voice down in his twisting innards, "(Who speaks this filth)?"

"Romon, he and Nestdôl's plan-"

"Tauriel," he burdened Tauriel with Foruyndes hand and his plate, "help Foruyndes back to her chamber. Ensure she remains there in rest. I have business to attend."

"But-"

"(Now)!" Legolas didn't wait for her to obey. Tightening his damaged fist beyond pain, Legolas shoved his way from the others. Romon was far across the way, mug of ale in hand, conspiring in low tones with a circle of men just inside Carthal's main door.

.

Walking aimlessly through the hallway on her way towards dinner, Eryndes only caught Sindar stalking with malice down the crowded hallway. Alarmed, she turned and followed.

The crowd was too thick with people for her to see. But she heard Sindar roar, "(I will drain the life out of you!)"

Realisation dawned on her. Romon.

"Oh, no, no, no!" Eryndes darted forward, dodging, and plundering through bodies, arms, legs, and mugs of ale. Faggots flew in her wake.

Someone cried out, "Sindar's going to kill Romon!"

Rangers everywhere answered the call, running out of the hall, postures ready for a fight, and the sounds of their swords being drawn added to the near deafening shouts.

"Stop him!"

The elves also flew into action. Instead, they came to stand before Sindar, they too drawing their swords.

It didn't take a military strategist to see the danger.

"Stop!" She shouted over the noise. No one took notice of her. Sindar gripped Romon by the neck, his face one of pure determination. All it would take was a snap and Sindar would kill him.

"Stop!" she screamed, throwing herself in between the elves and rangers. "Stop this at once! Put down your arms!"

"Get out of the way," someone snarled.

Another tried to grab her, but she nimbly dodged him.

"It is for honour," she held up her hands to both parties.

"Eryndes," another shouted, "We can't let Sindar kill Romon in cold blood."

All the rangers agreed. The elves stood eerily still, their swords gleaming in the candlelight. "It is not in cold blood." She took a deep, hard breath and shrilled, "Sindar defends my honour!" All shouting stopped. The elves looked at her startled.

"He's not of your kin," one elf sneered. "Tell your rangers to take their swords away from our lord."

"Lord Sindar?" Eryndes called to him over the crowd between them, "Please will you release him?"

Sindar hissed and Romon's body kicked in desperate struggle-

Eryndes tried to get in closer.

Slender arms of wrought iron surrounded her waist and held her stationary, "Do not struggle, lady. I will not hurt you, but you will not get any closer."

Eryndes called again, "I ask you to bury your anger. For me, I ask you to release him. His lies are not worth this."

Sindar's fair face screwed up, but he tossed Romon to the floor. The old man landed on the wooden floor coughing, gasping for air.

"Release me," she struggled against the elf.

"(Release her)," Sindar called, his voice still dark with malice.

Immediately she was released, and she turned back to the elves and rangers. "Everyone, put down your arms! You fools, we are all allies here!"

The room was eerily quiet, all eyes, human and elf, looked amongst themselves.

Romon, still coughing brutally, got his feet under him. He looked murderous at Sindar, "He attacks without provocation, and you defend him? Where is my justice?"

"Saviour or not, we cannot allow-"

"Must be punished-"

"Silence!" she cried, "This confrontation is justified. Romon spreads whispers to damage my reputation." Eryndes eyed the faces of the crowd, voicing doubts and promises of retribution, both sides intent on drawing blood. "Because he-Romon seeks to poison the love between us!"

Her announcement hushed every voice, elf and human. Her face reddened, "Anyone has the right to avenge their beloved's honour. As is my right to defend his name till my last breath. Now, put away your weapons!"

"You are betrothed?" the elf who had captured her asked.

"(Do as she commands; sheath your weapons)," Sindar ordered thicky before she could answer.

Moving as one, the elves stowed their weapons and stood to crisp attention before her.

She gaped at them in their eerie silence. Behind her the rangers weren't so quiet.

"You cannot expect us to allow you to marry an elf?"

More shouts erupted- 'unacceptable!', 'love between human and elf'

"Enough!" She threw her hand towards the main entrance and the blizzard raging outside, "Anyone doesn't like it; there is the door."

No one moved. "There is the door," she threw at Romon.

He remained very still. Very pale.

"I warn you, Romon, I will toss you to a blizzard if you so much as open your mouth in a way I do not like."

Glaring around at one and all, "One more word about my virtue, you can deal with him with my full blessing," she pointed at Sindar. "And anyone have anything to say about him can deal with me. And-that-door!"

Again, she pointed to the front door.

"Anyone has anything further to say? No? Good. Now be about your business!"

Eryndes stormed passed them, none of them speaking loudly. The elves snapped out of her way, their fair faces agog, sending fleeting glimpses between her and Sindar.

Sindar who stared at her just as the others did; in shock.

Throwing open the door, Eryndes shot up the stairs. She had nowhere in particular to go, but still she went. Such was the anger boiling in her veins.

There was no telling the fallout from what she'd just done. Would the rangers leave? Would Sindar send the elves back home. Would the families turn against her? Would there be civil war?

Would Sindar leave too, ashamed by the spectacle she'd created?

Slamming the door to the war room, she went to stand in front of her father's portrait. Sucking in a deep lungful of air, she exhaled with a plea, "Oh, father, what have I done?"

Given the layout of the war room it was impossible for her not to have seen him come in. Yet his approach was as stealthy as usual.

"Tell me," she asked flatly, "Have I destroyed everything?"

"You are not one to cause destruction."

Eryndes finally looked at him.

His brow quirked, "Except all those standing in your enraged sights. We who dare, tempt our own demise. "

She turned back to her father's portrait. It wasn't the time for humour or teasing. Especially teasing about her angry eyes. So, what if she'd been angry, still was angry. She had the right.

"I am aware of no destruction. And your door has not opened," he said amused, standing alongside her, "Some might call announcing my love for you to six hundred souls bold, but surely no call to take up torches, commence pillaging."

"I am sorry for causing embarrassment," she winced, "but attacking Romon the way you did I saw no other choice-"

"Even bolder was announcing your love for me."

She swallowed, "If you hadn't taken to ripping out his throat-"

"Denying his breath to be more precise. He deserved more, but I was denied satisfaction."

Focusing on every detail of her father's face, Eryndes kept from looking at him. His tone was smug, and she knew without seeing his face he was smirking. "I am sorry-"

"Indeed, you are full of apologies these days. And lies."

Her eyes shot to him, enough to see he bore no anger with the accusation, then back to her father.

"What lies?"

The pause was pungent; Sindar knew she was aware of the lies she'd told. The silence grew heavier. Her father's portrait offered no further encouragement. "If I must tell lies to save your name then I deem it worth the price."

"(Never again, Eryndes)," before she had a chance to retaliate, he continued in that patient tone that niggled her nerves, "Your name is not a commodity."

His rejection of her offered sacrifice stung. "What should I have done?"

"Nothing? Confront the rumourmongers?" he offered, "Tell the truth? Which you have now done regardless."

"The truth? Were they not speaking the truth of me? We both know I would have been as they charge me. If you had not stopped-"

"(Do not speak like this)!" He cursed under his breath. "Maybe that is true. Does it make you as they accuse? Was it for the want of wickedness? Was it out of love?"

Turning a little, she increased the distance between them by a fraction and gave him more of her back. "It was love. You know it was love."

She felt his hand take hers, holding her from moving further away, yet tender in its embrace. She could only imagine how it felt to be held the same way, her body secured in his embrace, held for as long as she wanted. Not in a fit of desire like those times before, but with love and tender care.

But she didn't deserve his affection when she refused to marry him. It took all her strength to tug out of his hands embrace.

"Your willingness to slander your name in defence of mine, both warms my heart and disgraces me; to let you bare such dishonour? Better we both be damned than for I to remain innocent."

"What do you want of me?"

"For you to be happy, above all things. I believed our union would . . . Alas, that is not so. I cannot pledge my life to your happiness. But will you help me understand?"

Eryndes swiped at the tears spilling freely down her cheeks.

"You avow me everything. You risk alienating your people. You swear to never marry another, and willingly give yourself to the passion between us. You pledged your very death if needed.

"What I find most difficult to understand, melethrilig (my love). You give me everything, but your hand."

She choked back a sob.

"You believe you are saving me. You are wrong. What happens to me is not for you to decide. That is for me. You cannot take it from me."

Unable to hold her father's face any longer, Eryndes turned.

But she was alone. The door slowly swinging shut was the only proof that he'd been there at all. She was all alone.

And in her solitude, she wept.

.

The storm had passed. For two days the doors and windows caged the inhabitants of Carthal. With a clear sky, the north welcomed the people to a new day.

Eryndes stood atop of her family's home, freshly dug out from the snow, in the same spot Sindar stood that night back in summer. The opening night of the Festival of Summer. The night Aragorn introduced them.

A smile graced her lips in wistful memory. Sindar's warmth towards her on that night made the morning's bitter cold air seem toasty.

He was a complex creature and Eryndes keenly knew there was so much about him she found unfathomable.

Nevertheless, there was no aspect of him she would change; even if she had the power to do so. What made him . . . so uniquely him; his nature, complexities, temper, even his immortality - To take any of those away and he would cease to be him.

She could love him no more if he were human.

Breathing in the bitter cold morning around her, Eryndes drew out of her memories to take in the sunrise. The bright yellow light gleaming on the fresh new snow blanketing the world.

If there was any pity in the world, the snow would blanket her.

Hide her away.

Ever since her foolish stand the day before last, her world had changed.

Rangers kept well out of her way. Perhaps they feared she'd show them the door.

Other folk whispered. Some giggled. Others scowled. And not always behind their hands.

Her and Sindar were now objects of amusement and endless discussion and debate.

'What becomes of Carthal if they marry?'

'The Dúnedain love Sindar, but to be ruled by an elf?'

'Surely King Thranduil would never allow one of his lords to marry a mortal.'

'If they are in love, they should marry! Mismatched by fate or not!'

Then there were some who didn't simply gossip, who wished to express their opinions to her in person. Telling them all to leave her alone hadn't really been an option; these were her people, friends all her life. So she listened, agreed or disagreed with them depending on which side they fell, then excused herself to move on.

One good thing to come from her foolishness; as with the rangers, none dared to breathe a word of reproach. At least not to her face. Not after she threatened to throw them out into the winter's freeze.

Another was Romon dared not show his face.

For her own part, however, Eryndes kept her own company. She tended to the wounded. Did her duty as was required. Alone her wounds could be licked, her humiliation lamented.

Snuggling in deeper into her great coat, Eryndes watched the colours change; the sun burning the tops of the trees, the dark stone of Carthal sparkling-

"A fair morning."

Eryndes gasped and whirled around.

Captain Tauriel stood there, back against the wall, her lovely hair fierious in the sunlight. Eryndes forced herself into a polite smile, even though the elf had encroached upon her peace unannounced.

"Good morning, Captain."

The elf didn't stand upright, remaining against the wall, her arms casually crossed over her leathery bodice. "Mistress."

Keeping her smile, Eryndes started for the door, "Well, a new day begins and so there is much to be done-"

"You are braver than I credited."

Hand poised over the door handle, Eryndes tensed. "Oh? Tell me captain, do you mean to insult or compliment? Or artfully do both?"

"Yet not nearly brave enough to be worthy of my lord."

"Insult then," Eryndes snapped, facing her. "Or is it jealousy?"

"Jealousy?" the elf's demeanour softened when she chuckled. "It is possible, but not as you accuse.

The love between you and Sindar lives on. My love is dead. Am I wrong to feel jealous?"

"Your love is dead?" Eryndes mind raced, "But I-I thought-." She shook herself, "I am sorry."

"You thought what?"

Blowing out her cheeks, Eryndes righted herself, "Forgive me. This is very personal, and we do not know each other. If you will excuse me?"

"You thought what?"

Her question stopped her. "I was told to lose a loved one broke an elf's heart-"

"And we die?"

Eryndes nodded.

"This is why you refuse him?"

"You don't know?"

Her chin rose, "I do not ask my lord private questions and he does not offer an explanation." Tauriel pushed off the wall and walked over to the railing, "Mistress, there is a gap in your understanding. Heartbreak is fatal to elves, but only if we choose it. My parents are both dead, slain in wars passed long before I was of age. Their deaths hurt fresh each morning I wake. My Kili, my love, died saving me during the battle for Erebor. Yet, here you see me. Alive."

"Then why would he choose to die?" she exclaimed. Flinching, Eryndes berated herself. She didn't know this woman, this elf.

Tauriel studied her, her face lowering to a frown. "Thranduil," she paused, "My king lost his beloved wife over two and a half thousand years ago. It is for Legolas, his son, that he lives."

"And for what do you live?"

A shadow grew in her blink less eyes.

"I beg your pardon, Captain. I should not have asked-"

"For love," Tauriel answered breathlessly. Then to Eryndes' surprise, Tauriel smiled, "for the love of those not my blood kin but just as dear. My king and Legolas. Without them, I very well may wither."

"And Sindar?" Eryndes asked before she had sense to stop herself.

"I have a great love for the one you call Sindar," she explained at length, "I being sylvan . . . . forming any romantic designs on him was . . . never an option. But I do love him. Perhaps now, after learning romantic love from Kili, I can now claim my affection for Sindar has become more . . . sisterly."

Eryndes let the tension leave her body.

"You are relieved?" Tauriel flicked a lock of long hair over her shoulder, "I may be jealous, but you have no right. Your reasoning is flawed. Married or not, Sindar's fate remains." "He would die anyway?" she gasped.

"Did your love stop after refusing his hand? I think not. His heart will break. You cannot prevent it. All you can do is decide what happens between now and then."

"Yet others have lived," Eryndes whispered to herself.

"They have," Tauriel agreed, but her eyes hardening, "Most do not."

.

Packed in tight for lunch later that morning, the air was hot in the hall and surrounding hallways.

By this time, folk had taken to gathering in the same spots with the same people.

The weather fining to bright sunshine allowed many to eat outside. Many of the elves did for they did not feel uncomfortable in the cold.

Sindar and Captain Tauriel remained inside with their group, elves and rangers alike.

Eryndes stood with her group, Gueniel and her family beside her, along with the likes of Sali, Mydedis and many more.

Úrion passed by her, "We could do with a song." He winked, continuing to where his group stood. "A song!" he called out to them. "Who wishes for a song?" A general cheer rose.

"Baineth?" Sindar called, "Will you honour my kin?"

'Baineth'? Eryndes smarted, a stab of poisonous jealousy filled her heart. Why would he ask Baineth, and not her?

"Gladly, Sindar- oh, I mean, my lord," Baineth threaded her way over to Sindar and Úrion. "Shhh!" Úrion's deep voice rose over the deafening noise, "Silence! Baineth will sing!"

Úrion's call for silence spread, men, women and elves all calling for each other to be quiet.

Once the general area around them fell silent and the only noise came from the great hall, Baineth addressed Sindar, "Any particular song?"

Sindar wasn't paying her attention though. Eryndes found him staring at her as if he'd just seen her.

"Sing a song of love," Tauriel put in with her dazzling smile.

Baineth tapped at her lip with a finger for a moment, then gave a nod:

"Some say love, it is a river, that drowns the tender reed

Some say love, it is a razor, that leaves your soul to bleed

Some say love, it is a hunger, an endless aching need

I say love, it is a flower, and you, its only seed."

Eryndes hadn't heard this song for so many years. And there was a bit of pride to be had for how well she sang.

Feeling his stare, Eryndes looked over at him again. His poignant gaze did not waver.

"It's the heart afraid of breaking, that never learns to dance

It's the dream afraid of waking, that never takes the chance

It's the one who won't be taking, who cannot seem to give

And the soul afraid of dying, that never learns to live."

Eryndes couldn't look away, it was as if Baineth's words came from his own lips. The feeling behind his stare. . .

"When the night has been too lonely and the road has been too long

And you think that love is only for the lucky and the strong

Just remember in the winter, far beneath the bitter snow

Lies the seed, that with the sun's love, in the spring becomes the rose."

For the first time, the words of the song, words sung with Baineth's lovely voice, taunted her.

Of all the fate. Of everything that might have happened. Why this? Why did she find the love of her soul in an elf?

The question which plagued her for so long now hammered down upon her.

What was she to do?

How was her choice to be lived with once made?

With Baineth's song finished, the people clapped and cheered her fine effort but Eryndes kept locked with those silver blink less eyes she adored-

Something else rose in front of her eyes. A blurry face, slowly taking shape.

Her breath stopped.

It was Sindar but smiling as she'd never seen him. His silver eyes gentle and full of warmth, his hair hanging low without any braid, fallen forward enough to lightly caress his cheeks.

He vanished and other shapes started to form in his place. But these were nothing more than a blink of an eye, flickers like galloping on a sunny day through the woods. Faces, too many to hold, fleeting. Places and people, faces young, faces old, babies, children growing, the sense of unbound love and happiness.

Her eyes misted; it was a vision, a peek at everything she ever wanted.

With a blink, the vision faded to nothing and released her. Her knuckles were white from her grip on her ale.

"Eryndes?" Gueniel asked, concerned. "You look like you've seen a ghost."

Across the way, Sindar still stared at her, but now his face was one of worry.

"I'm fine," she assured Gueniel, and gave a small smile to appease her lover. He didn't look convinced but returned the nod. Eryndes put down her mug, "Too much ale, perhaps."

Inside, Eryndes was reeling. Usually, her visions were just manifestations of her fears. Fuieryn was the one gifted with foresight. Not her.

This was different. Was this her imagination playing with her? Try as she might, the faces in the vision wouldn't come back. Lost.

Lost to the future? Or to her dreams, for her to dream of a life she'd never have?

Seeking Sindar's face again, she found he hadn't moved. Still, he watched her.

Eryndes poured the remainder of her ale into Gueniel's, "I am done. See you back in the healing ward in a little while. I'm going for a walk."

The outside air was bitter, but the sun felt good on her face. In solitude, Eryndes took to her time-honoured walk around the compound.

Though her walk was quiet, inside her mind raced and tumbled. Breathing the cold air deeply into her lungs, she held it until she burst. Around her the birds sang to the generous sun, giving the frozen world life.

Her heart felt light. Something had changed. Her heart was . . . light. An overwhelming feeling within her breast made her smile.

Her mind tumbled and sorted, remembering everything she could. The first moment she saw him when he called out to her from the road. The taciturn tongue of his. His awkwardness surrounded by hundreds of humans. His face when he'd asked her to help him talk to the children. The faraway look he got when recalling distant memories. His face and body covered in blood after killing that evil beast who wanted to eat her. The time she'd fed him fried chook foot and looked like he'd be sick. The gleam in his eye when he was about to say something witty. The delicate smile when they'd been the last dancers standing. The way he looked at her just before kissing her the first time.

Their first kiss, and everyone hence. Lovingly. Full of passion.

She recalled the false memory. The one from her vision. He looked so happy it made Eryndes melt. Yet it promised strength, fulfillment, and utter happiness in his future. If only it was real- that it could be that way.

In all things Eryndes wanted out of life, that was undoubtedly the most she yearned; For Sindar to be happy, and yes, Eryndes too.

It was some time later when Eryndes found herself back at the manor. Lunch long ended and people were gone, left to attend their duty. Walking around the southern wing towards the main entrance, Eryndes no longer felt the need to be withdrawn from her people.

Politely and gently, she offered small nods of greeting. Some reciprocated, some kept their distance. They weren't to blame. The last few days she'd not been easy.

There were others who returned her greetings with vivid smiles and encouragement. Eryndes took those with a gladdened heart.

The road circled round the farm stables and chook sheds, her boots no longer sinking in snow but sure-footed on frozen ground.

About to call out a greeting to two people who she knew would be happy to speak to her, Eryndes stopped and watched instead.

Over by the warhorse stables, along the long wall towards the decimated hayshed-

Hidden from most onlookers, they'd found a private place for a private moment. Baradon held his wife against him, her neck stretching up to reach his lips for a quick kiss. His hands ran over her lower curves, across her belly before Celegeth swatted him with an admonishing laugh. Twirling her around, Baradon took her hand in his, her waist in the other. Slowly to imagined music, he led her in a dance, his head bent low to rest against his shorter wife's. Celegeth's radiant smile shamed the sun in its brilliance.

Silently beneath her breast Eryndes' heart squeezed.

With a mental shake, she walked away, scolding herself for spying on their private moment.

Only to find Baradon and Celegeth weren't the only ones being spied on.

"A happy couple they make."

Face hot, Eryndes answered Tauriel, "Yes, they do. If you will excuse me, I must speak to Sindar-"

"Keenly in love too. Though in a place this small it must be difficult finding privacy."

Her face grew hotter, "Very true. I should be going-"

Tauriel held up a hand to stop her escape. "We elves love company and parties, but we also love the quiet too."

Eryndes bit her lip. "Yes, I am acquainted with Sindar's habit for seeking moments of solitude."

"There is a place I have discovered," Tauriel continued as if she'd not spoken, "offering a small measure of privacy and quiet-"

"There are no places within the compound I don't know, Captain."

Tauriel tilted her head towards the manor, "On the third floor. A corner by the glass pane at the end-"

"Of the hallway, yes." Eryndes was at a loss.

That lovely mouth lifted into a wry smirk, "A good chance you will find him there."

"Oh," she murmured, her face warming. "Thank you."

Tauriel inclined her head and walked away.

.

Tauriel had been right; a private spot, next to the glass, the sunlight streaming in and flooding the spot in golden light.

He sat there, long legs lying haphazardly over the floor, his hands just as careless. His head braced against the wood. The sun cast a golden glow over him; the silver of his tunic scattering the light, his tranquil features highlighted by warm light, his already golden hair brilliant, his eyes and mouth closed as if in sleep.

Eryndes knew better.

He was not sleeping. Even if elves did sleep with their eyes closed, she knew he was awake. He knew she was there. He always did.

There was so much peace in his features. No pain or anger, no pride, love, or lust either. There he rested, content and at peace.

A deep yearning to join him was stoppered by the risk of spoiling the sight.

So Eryndes watched, he bathed in warm light, she drowning in her love.

"You begged me not to forsake you," he commented quietly, breaking the silence but not the peace, "yet it has been days since last we spoke."

She cleared her throat quietly. It was not easy to remember all she'd planned to say now she stood in front of him. "I came to ask-" her nerves rattled. She cleared her throat and decided on a different tact, "I came to ask the reason you tease. Am I simply an easy target? For the longest time I've wondered."

His eyes remained closed and she wondered if he would answer. She waited, trying to keep her breathing steady.

"How else was I to gain your notice?"

His soft words bewildered her and when he said no more, she prompted, "Gain my notice?"

Sindar's shoulders moved to a better spot against the wood, "There are birds who dance. Horses prance. Dwarves smash rocks. My father sung."

"You-" she shook her head, her nerves easing enough to allow a small smile.

His eyes opened and the silver wells swallowed her whole, "You lit a spark within me the day we met." He smiled, "Gift an elf an apple . . ."

"So you baited me?"

"I am not blessed with charm. I am not eloquent," he admitted dourly, "I could say I sought to impress you by making you laugh, which I did enjoy, but in truth I simply wanted you to see me."

"I saw you," she assured him.

"In matters of courtship, my horse is far more skilled than I, yet he but prances across a field."

A little chuckle escaped her throat. She shouldn't laugh.

His pale features eased, softened. "It worked, did it not? I was able to speak without discomfort. You stopped being offended by everything I said-"

"And you stopped being a conceited, unfriendly snob."

Sindar snorted with indignance.

Eryndes kept her smile. Well, not completely stopped.

"I have always valued your candour. After being surrounded by sycophants for two thousand years."

She hesitated, "Is that how old you are?"

He didn't seem surprised by her question and for the first time he answered, "Two thousand nine hundred and seventy six. Seventy five by human reckoning."

"Young." That was still a bitter point with her.

Sindar raised his shoulders then dropped them. "Age is relative. To you I am ancient. To me we are the same."

"Except you will not grow old."

"I have witnessed many age," he growled, his tone darkening. "The process holds no abhorrence to me. That is your fear. Not mine. I will love you when you are as old as Sali, and then beyond."

"And death?"

"Life is not about death and an elf's love is eternal. "

Eryndes bit her lip.

He lifted his head to look at her, "Why these questions?"

Carefully, she scooted closer and sat down next to him.

He made no room for her. He made no effort to open his posture or touch her. Yet she did not feel unwelcome.

She felt free.

Eryndes put her hand over his. He didn't take it, but nor did he reject her touch. "You always ask after the song I sang when you rode past my mother's cottage the day we met. Why?"

His brow lifted. "It was the reason I stopped to talk to you."

"But you did not hear the words?"

"No."

She blushed, laughing at herself, "Not so much a song. More a spell reformed into a song. A sad song sung by lonely women in hopes of calling forth their beloved."

Sindar's face was unreadable, "Eryndes, not with all the magic left in the Dúnedain could you summon me to appear. I am not an act of illusion or drawn to you by a spell."

Eryndes blinked then covered another laugh with her hand. "Oh, no, I know that."

Sindar's eyes narrowed, his hand tensing within hers.

Sucking in courage along with air, Eryndes tugged at his hand until it lay cradled between hers. His long fingers with neat fingernails, the little blond hairs gleaming in the sunlight like tiny far away stars running along pale, flawless skin . . . "What I mean to say is that it was a coincidence, perhaps even providence. But the song is one no maiden wishes to admit they've sung. To be desperate enough to sing forth a husband . . ."

"Are you going to sing it now?"

She shook her head as a butterfly took flight in her stomach. Bravely, her gaze rose from his hand to meet his eyes. "I do not need to, not anymore."

Those adorable creases appeared between his dark brows. "(I am not following you)."

Her heart swelled under her ribs, glowing like he did sitting in the sun.

"Eryndes-?"

"If you will still have me," she plunged forth before losing her nerve, lips quivering, smiling half in terror, "I want to marry you."