8. A Dim View

"Have you ever seen anything more attractive in your life?" Rumil asked, the smile on his face melting into something resembling a leer.

"I think I saw a Miar dancing in the forrest once," Dinendal replied, peering over his shoulder with a rather besotted expression. "But that was a long time ago."

"You were probably drunk," Orophin pointed out, completely disinterested in the goings on that captured the attention of the other two.

"Aye," Dinendal agreed, though it was difficult to tell from his expression if he even had any idea what he was agreeing to. He stood on the rail of the talan. Beyond the hedge they were now peering though and below them lay the ranges and there a pair of elleth rehearsed their fighting skills, clad in only their leggings and sleeveless fighting tunics.

"I always knew there was a reason I preferred the sword to the bow," Rumil stated, his gaze lingering on the curve of Aduial's hip.

"Haldir is going to kill you when he catches you, Rumil," Orophin stated, polishing the blade of his knife as if oblivious to what transpired beyond the hedge.

"He is not going to catch me, I have you for a lookout." Rumil insisted, leaning a little farther through the hedge for a better look.

"If you are depending on me to protect you then you should know that I am completely without motivation.

"Mmmmm hmmmm," his brother answered.

"You do not suppose that they have any idea how they look?" Din asked, tugging uncomfortably at the collar of his shirt.

"I suppose Aduial does," Rumil said with a lopsided grin. "Not that she would care. I am not sure Faeneth even realizes that there are advantages to being female."

"The advantage of being able to seduce any single elf you wish with the proper clothing?" Orophin asked offhandedly.

"Yes, that," Rumil nodded, catching a twig in his hair.

"Faeneth would look attractive in orc armor," Din insisted with conviction.

"Kinky," Rumil grinned, wagging his eyebrows suggestively. "It is always the quiet ones. Where do you get something like that?"

"Oh, shut up," his friend hissed, cuffing him in the back of the head.

"What's kinky?" All three elves froze at the sound of the tiny feminine voice, Dinendal whirled around, nearly tumbling over the rail into the hedge and Rumil let out a yelp, grabbing a fistful of his hair and jerking it free from the branch it had tangled on.

"Laurelin," Orophin blinked at the tiny elleth who stood the terrace in her minature warden's outfit, a smudge of dirt on her nose and her hands cupped tightly in front of her. "What are you doing here sweetling?"

"Elmo needs a home and it's too far to carry him to my talan!" she piped, holding out her hands. Orophin blinked at her several times before kneeling on the terrace and prying one tiny finger up.

"You named a frog 'Elmo'?" he asked in bewilderment, peering at the tiny green creature in her hands.

"Uh-huh!" She nodded happily, her tiny blonde head bobbling and sending her braids flying.

"I suppose Meril has a jam jar you may have, pen neth," he said with a sigh, "Come with me, we will see if we can swipe something from the kitchen before my wife returns home.

"That was close," Din stated, clutching his chest over his rapidly beating heart. Rumil nodded in agreement, picking the last of the leaves from his hair.

"Rumil!" Laurelin's head popped back though the talan door. "What is kinky?"

"Easy now," Haldir grasped a fistful of Aragorn's tunic, steadying him as he took a wobbly step forward. The mortal reached out, latching onto the back of a bench on the terrace, almost falling over as he attempted to use it as a crutch.

"I can manage this," Aragorn insisted a bit breathlessly.

"Perhaps this is enough of a walk for one day." Haldir stated uneasily.

"We've not gone anywhere yet," the mortal answered, glancing back over his shoulder at the bed no more than a handful of paces behind them.

"Think of it as a matter of perspective," the marchwarden suggested as he settled the man on the bench. "If you were a snail that journey might have taken you weeks."

"It very nearly did," Aragorn replied with a hint of sarcasm.

"It will not help to push," the elf stated patently, taking the seat beside him on the bench and checking the bandages on his chest to be certain the wounds had not reopened.

"Aye," Aragorn sighed, giving him a rather shamefaced look. "I know. Haldir, I have not thanked you."

"There is no need between friends," He answered with a faint half smile. "You would have done no less for me. You might have, perhaps, done more."

"Nay," Aragorn smiled back as he shook his head "I would have made you drink the same fell brews you have poured down my throat."

"That you would have," Haldir assured with a chuckle. "Your adar taught you well." They could hear the faint knock on the talan's front door and Haldir's brow furrowed. He had been expecting Meril but his sister never knocked any more than his brothers did.

"I shall only be a moment," he said, gripping the man's shoulder as he stood, then adding hesitantly, "we have not told many of your presence."

"I'll just stay here on my bench under the bush." Aragorn assured, slumping back into the shadows. Haldir chuckled, slipping back inside and crossing the talan to the front door.

"Silivren," his brow crinkled in concern and he moved the door slightly so that she could not see beyond him into the talan. "I am surprised to see you."

"I am doing Meril a favor," She answered with an amused smirk as she held out the basket to him. "She is completely overworked so I offered to make this delivery for her. Really, marchwarden, you should not have coerced her into helping you care for your furry friend."

"How do you know about him?" Haldir asked, his knuckles turning white as he gripped the handle of the basket.

You should not have expected to keep it secret at all," she chided gently. She could not help but feel sympathetic. Haldir had a good heart. It was forever getting him into trouble. But then, it got him out of it quite a bit too. Without a word he jerked the handle of the basket, tugging her through the door and slamming it shut behind her.

"Swear to me you will not speak of it to anyone," he almost pleaded, his face growing a bit ashen.

"Really, Haldir," she said a bit more sternly. "You should know me better than that to think I would betray your confidence, no mater how ill conceived."

"You are right," he answered, sighing heavily, bowing his head. "I apologize, my lady."

"Do you not think this has gone on too long already?" Silivren's brow crinkled as she laid a hand on his arm. "It will have to come out eventually. Would it not be better to simply get it over with?"

"Not yet," the marchwarden shook his head. "not until he is out of danger." Silvering struggled not to roll her eyes. It was, quite possibly the maddest thing she had ever heard. Only Haldir could make such a fuss over an injured fox.

"Haldir," she began carefully but she was cut off by a loud thump that sounded very much like something very heavy tumbling to the floor. "What was that?"

Haldir hissed out a curse through clenched teeth, turning and striding through the bedroom toward the terrace.

"If he has pulled his stitches running around I swear I will sew him up again without anesthetic." the marchwarden stated a bit bitterly. The elleth sighed, shaking her head as she followed after him. If she was here any way she might as well be of some help.

"Rhach," Aragorn swore against the floorboards. He was sprawled on his chest looking very much like a rag doll, only inches from the bench where Haldir had left him. From his position he could not even have been standing when he fell and the marchwarden heaved a frustrated sigh. He had been left alone too long.

"That is a mortal," Silverin stated, screeching to a jarring halt on the threshold and pointing a delicate finger at Aragorn with a mixture of shock and horror.

"Yes it looks like one to me," Haldir stated irritably as he peeled the man off the floor, setting him carefully on his feet.

"Thanks," Aragorn gasped out, gripping the front of Haldir's tunic as his legs gave way again.

"This is not going so very well," the marchwarden observed, struggling to keep him from landing on the floor again.

"I would be just fine if only the talan would stop tipping," Aragorn insisted, listing to the side as if he were on the deck of a rolling ship.

"I think you have had enough adventure for one day." Haldir stated, pursing his lips. He grasped the mortal around the chest and hauled him back inside, pushing past Silverin and depositing him on the bed. The elf's brow crinkled in worry. Aragorn's chest heaved as if he had just run a mile, his skin clammy and his eyes fixed on the ceiling. He was obviously in pain, a fact made that much clearer by his shuddering breathing as Haldir explored the condition of the bandages

"Sweet Elbreth!" The elleth all but slammed her basket down on the dresser with a sharp thump, her eyes wide as if it were an orc sprawled in the marchwarden's
bed and not a man.

"Aragorn, look at me," Haldir said sharply. The mortal's eyes were glazed and he was trembling. Silverin let out a gasp, slumping against the wall as her knees wobbled. She knew that name, all too well she knew it.

"Silivren, help me," Haldir commanded, he glanced over his shoulder when he received no response. She was leaning against the door frame, one slender hand pressed against her stomach as if she felt ill. "Silivren!"

She shook her head as if to clear it, crossing the room in only a few strides and settling on the other side of the bed. She brushed the mortal's hair back from his face. He was feverish and she checked his eyes, her lips creasing in a thin line.

"This is the heir of Isildur," She stated flatly.

"Who do you think he is?" Haldir snapped in frustration, "You do not suppose, do you, that I make a habit of collecting every mortal that wanders over the borders?"

"Why have you not told Arwen?" She demanded in frustration but as Haldir removed the bandage around the mortal's chest the answer was clear. It was a miracle he had survived this long.

"He is bleeding again," Haldir stated as if he had not even heard her. "Try to hold him while I tend to this. I dare not make him sleep."

"This is bad," Aragorn slurred, gazing up into Silivren's face as she smoothed back his hair tenderly.

"Nonsense," she answered, smiling at him encouragingly. She took hold of his hand, clutching it as he let out a pained moan. "You merely had a setback. You will be back on your feet again in no time."

"You lie much better than Haldir." the mortal rasped out.

"He has no bedside manner at all," Silivren agreed with a soft laugh.

"Do I know you?" he asked, biting back another moan. "You seem familiar."

"No," she shook her head, stroking his face soothingly. "But I know you well. Arwen Undomiel is a dear friend of mine." His breath hitched at her name and he let slip a cry of pain. The room began to spin, his chest constricting against the burning in his side. And from somewhere deep within his memory seemed to rush back, hard and cold like polished stone, knocking the wind from him.

"Mithrandir! Mithrandir!" The old wizard's eyes opened at the sound of his name and he looked up from his spot beneath the tree. His pipe was clutched between his teeth and in the distance a harbor full of boats burned to the keels, the smoke from them filling the skies, but he paid it no mind.

He sighed, glancing first at the soldier of Gondor beside him who had taken up the watch for their returning brigade and then around the tree. He let out a sharp hiss, scrambling to his feet.

"Blessed Valar" he snapped, grasping the young soldier by the tunic. "Get a litter, now!" He hurried out into the inky knight, grasping first the young lieutenant who had called him and then his burden, his captain, half slung over one shoulder and barely conscious.

"Balrogion," Mithrandir cursed. "Thorongil, what have you done to yourself?"

"Just a scratch," the captain hissed out between clenched teeth.

"His ribs are broken," the lieutenant reported as the pair of them carried the captain to the safety of the trees. "And he is not breathing as he should." As if on cue the captain let out a rasping cough, blood trickling from the corner of his mouth.

"Find Ostopher," Mithrindir barked as he lowered Thorongil to the litter, kneeling beside him on the ground. "Have him take charge of the men." With a sharp nod the lieutenant was gone.

"I don't listen very well," Thorongil rasped, his breath coming in small gasps as the wizards hands probed his side.

"You never have," Mithrindir observed softly.

"I could not die in better company," he stated haltingly.

"You are not going to die," the wizard answered. "Not if I have anything to say on it. If you were to die on my watch I would be honor bound to deliver those sad tidings to Imladris and though I might face the anguish of Elrond I have no desire to bear the wrath of his daughter."

"It was so long ago," the captain's voice faltered, a single tear slipping from the corner of his eye. He let out a moan of pain and then forced a smile at his old friend. "She has probably forgotten me by now."

"No," Mithrindir's voice took on a gentle tone, the gruffness melting away as if through some magic. "No, she has not. She remembers you still with great fondness. She has not forgotten you." Thorongil drew in a shaky breath.

"Then it would be better for her if she had," he answered.

"Aragorn," the lilting musical voice cut through the haze of pain and he let out a gasp, trembling as a soothing coolness radiated from the wound in his side. He was shaking uncontrollably and he realized, much to his shame, that he was gripping the hand of the elleth so tight as to leave bruises.

"Forgive me, my lady," he whispered, quickly releasing his hold on her. She smiled gently, placing a cool cloth on his forehead.

"There is nothing to forgive," she assured.

"Do not scare me like that again," Haldir stated rather harshly as he tied the fresh bandages. The marchwarden's hands were also a bit unsteady, Aragorn could only suppose it had taken all of his skill to mend the damage.

"I shall try to behave better in the future," he promised.

"You are very resilient for a mortal." Silivren stated a bit teasingly.

"He can be rather hard to get rid of." Haldir agreed, earning an amused laugh from the elleth.

"It is a good thing too," she said, shifting the blankets around him. "Lady Arwen will be quite relieved to know you are all right." Aragorn's face fell, his expression almost despairing. Silivren paused a moment looking from Haldir to the man and then straightened her shoulders.

"Well if you do not need me, marchwarden, I should return to my duties," she stated, turning toward the door and giving Haldir a meaningful look.

"My thanks, Silivren," he stated, bowing his head as she left the pair alone. He examined the mortal's face. A sadness had settled there, almost a wretchedness, one he found almost more distressing than the wound in his side.

"Something troubles you?" he asked finally.

"I have lingered here too long already," Aragorn sighed. "I have presumed too much upon your hospitality, Haldir. I should leave as soon as I am fit to travel."

"It is no presumption," Haldir corrected. "You will not be fit to travel for some time. I realize you must be anxious to return home to Imladris, but you should know..."

"I do not think I will ever return to Imladris," Aragorn whispered, cutting him off. The elf frowned, his blue eyes piercing the human before him.

"Thirty years have passed," Aragorn answered the unspoken question almost haltingly. "I have already lived longer than most men in this world. Did you never once wonder why I did not return? It would be better for Arwen if she forgot me."

"I do not think she can," Haldir stated, struggling to hide the worry in his voice. Aragorn shook his head.

"In another thousand years she will."

Meril pulled the mithril comb from her hair, shaking out her golden locks as she sank into the steaming water with a contented sigh. A light breeze tugged playfully at the gossamer curtains that surrounded the pavilion of the lady's bath and somewhere in the small garden beyond the courtyard a harpist played. She let her head fall back into the water as a rather wicked smile curled her lips. By now Silverin was no doubt with Haldir.

Her cousin was a sharp, level headed, practical elleth. Meril had only truly come to know her since her marriage to Orophin had brought her from her home in Imladris to the golden wood. The two had only met in passing a few times during their childhood but even then Meril's memory was of a very reserved and patient elfling with a wisdom beyond her years.

The perfect elleth to contend with Haldir.

If Silverin had a fault it was an overabundance of practicality. She seemed almost immune to a male's charms. She was friendly, polite, engaging and confident. And quite maddening.

Her seeming inability to titter and flirt did tend to put off most elves but if there was anything Haldir seemed to truly enjoy it was a challenge. There was not another elleth in all Arda who was a better match in manner and temperament to the Evenstar, which was probably why Silverin had been her handmaiden for so many years. They could not have been more alike if they were sisters and Meril felt certain it had always been her character, more than her beauty, that had attracted the Marchwarden to Arwen.

She heard the curtain rustle and she sighed inwardly. She had so hoped to keep the bath to herself for just this little while. She could only hope it was not some empty headed lady of the court brimming over with unspoken gossip. She opened one eye a mere crack as the water lapped at the sides of the bath.

"Oh Faeneth!" she said with relief, a smile lighting her lips as she opened her eyes, letting the water run in rivulets down her hair. "How are you today dear?" The other elleth gave her an almost mournful look, drew in a deep breath as if she were about to begin an emotional diatribe then sank beneath the water like a stone.

"Oh," Meril's lips curled in a smile that was both amused and sympathetic "that good?" Faeneth emerged a moment later looking as if she might cry, though no one would be able to tell as she was already drenched.

"I wonder if Imladris has any need of a slightly weathered, socially inept courier," she asked with a sigh.

"Plenty," Meril nodded cheekily, "But I do not expect you would do any better there dear, you are not inept enough." Faeneth smiled, her cheeks turning pink as she settled back against the edge of the bath.

"I am sorry," she said apologetically. "I should not come in here and spoil things."

"For you to complain it would have to be rather bad," Meril answered assuringly. "You have dirt on your nose, dear."

"Aduial and I were training," Faeneth stated, rubbing her nose with wet fingers. "She says I need a dress."

"What sort of dress?" Meril pressed, her curiosity getting the better of her.

"The sort of dress that will inform Rumil that I am an unattached female, I suppose," Faeneth shrugged.

"Ah," Meril nodded with a bit of a wicked glimmer in her eye. "Do you have a dress like that?"

"I did not even know they made dresses like that." Faeneth admitted. Meril paused for a moment considering her friend.

"Had you though that it might be simpler to knock him senseless, tie him up and drag him into the forrest?" she suggested.

"I had given it serious consideration," Faeneth stated with an expression that said she truly had. "But Haldir would most certainly come to rescue him if I did and there are some elves I would not stand against for all of Arda and Haldir is one of them."

"Aye, well, he would," Meril offered grudgingly. "And I am not at all certain I would want to take him on myself. You know dear, I believe Aduial is right. I do not remember ever seeing you in a gown."

"That is because I have not worn one since my coming of age party." Faeneth answered. scrubbing at a streak of dirt on her arm with her palm.

"Well an elleth should have a new gown every few hundred years," Meril gave her friend a rather appraising look. Faeneth was as lovely as any elleth, perhaps not very effeminate, but she had some first rate qualities about her appearance that only lacked from a bit of showing off. If only the courier had some idea how to go about showing them.

"You know dear," Meril added presently as Faeneth rubbed absently at her dirty nails. "I was going to look for a few items myself tomorrow at the market. Would you want to come with me?" It was a bald lie of course, she didn't need a thing at the market but if she had any reservations over the statement they dissolved as Faeneth's eyes lit up.

"Really?" She asked hopefully "You wouldn't mind helping me?

"Of course not," Meril assured, settling back in the soothing waters with a smug expression. "In fact, I believe I know the very dress you are looking for."

Haldir took the steps two at a time, darting past elves who gazed him with furrowed brow and wonderment but he cared little. He bolted the last few feet across a foot bridge and all but tore open the talan door.

"Aduial?" he called into the twilight shrouded room.

"Just a moment, Haldir." she answered from the bedchamber. He crossed the sitting room in three strides and pushed open the bed room door, skidding to a stop. Aduial stood before the mirror, a long towel the only thing concealing her as she combed out her damp tresses.

"Really, Haldir, I know your naneth taught you to knock," she quipped, giving his reflection an irritable, if somewhat amused look. "At least I know she tried."

"I needed to see you," he answered, panting.

"You are seeing far more of me than you need to, marchwarden," she stated, laying down her comb and shrugging into her robe. She turned to face him as if she were entirely unfazed by his behavior and crossed the room, passing him and heading for the kitchen. "What is so important that it could not wait a few minutes?"

"I have come to realize that the situation with Aragorn beyond my ability to manage," he said a bit regretfully.

"I expected you to figure that out eventually," she stated, setting the kettle on the stove and setting out the tea things. "That does not explain why you would come barging into my bedroom."

"You have to help me," Haldir pleaded.

"Help you?" Aduial stared at him as if she had never seen an elf before, "What do you want me to do to him, tie him up and dangle him in a orcs nest? You could have just let your wardens shoot him and saved time."

"No!" he replied in frustration, slumping into one of the kitchen chairs "You have to help me teach him how to romance an elleth!"

"What have I told you about eating the old lembas?" she asked, taking a step back from him. "it is all fine and good for a year or two but after a decade it goes bad."

"I have not gone mad!" he insisted, "Aragorn has lost his confidence. When I mentioned her name he said it would be better if he never saw her."

"And you want me to... help him seduce the Evenstar?" Aduial was still watching him as if she expected him to turn into a troll at any moment.

"You are an elleth, you must know what sorts of things would give him an advantage!" the marchwarden insisted.

"You want -me- to help -you- make the elleth you love give her pledge to a mortal?"

"Yes!"

"Well that is mad." Aduial stated, folding her arms over her chest

"I do not know the first thing about elleths," Haldir sighed, dragging his fingers through his hair in frustration.

"That might be the first sensible thing I have heard from you today, mellon." She replied with a scowl. She filled two cups with water, plunking one in front of him and then marching past him, carrying her own out onto the terrace in the gathering twilight. It took him a moment to realize he was alone in his best friend's kitchen and he stood to his feet, following her outside.

"Aduial, I cannot watch her fade," he whispered, swallowing hard, "I cannot do it. She can never feel for me what she feels for the heir of Isildur. The best... the only thing I can hope for is to see her happy in the arms of another."

"Haldir," she turned away from the railing, looking up at him with sad eyes, "there is more in life than one elleth."

"Remember when we were small, and your adar would tell us tales while we sat on the terrace under the stars?" he asked.

"That was such a long time ago," she sighed shaking her head as she stared into her cup.

"Did you not, even once, imagine that instead of betraying Luthien to her father, Daeron had helped her?" he asked, his eyes sparkling. "Did you never wish that Maeglin had not allowed his jealousy of Tuor to lead him to the betrayal of Gondolin?"

"Haldir, everyone wishes that!" Aduial answered in exasperation, "we knew how the story would end because we had heard it a hundred times before. We are not children any more and we can not simply reach back inside our heads and fix things."

"No," he agreed, the faintest smile on his lips, "but we have the power to spin this tale however we wish. This time... this time it will be different. This time we drive back darkness rather than allow it a foothold. This time there will be no tears at the end of the tale, and the little elflings will sit on the terrace under the stars and believe in good. This time the princess of the Noldor will not have her heart broken at the end."

Aduial stared at him open mouthed, hardly daring to breathe. There was a glint in his eyes that looked almost mad. It was folly, all of it, what happy ending could such a tale have? Her brow crinkled as she felt his hand grasp hold of hers just as it had so many times when they were small. Of all his wild ideas over the many long years of their lives this was the maddest. She sighed.

"What would you have me do?" she asked finally.

Balrogion - son of a balrog
Rhach - damn

Elmo - (no not -that- Elmo!!!) Younger brother of Thingol, King of Doriath and grandfather of Celeborn of Lorien... and a very cute green tree frog.

Authorís Note - I managed to get this chapter out a little faster and I have a portion of the next chapter written as well. Iím sorry to say that I can force the story to write itself in order... Iím odd like that. Thanks for all the wonderful support.

Grumpy - Problem solved (I couldnít help myself... I find nautical references so attractive. but then I live in the Caribbean so what do you expect?)

Lady Faewen - I did. LOL