Author's Note: My sincerest apologies that this took so long. In case you didn't read our author's notes where I put a message begging for your understanding, here's the lowdown: due to the fact that BoL's character "Rhiannon" gets knocked out for a few days after the Battle of Dagorlad and my character "Fiona" doesn't, it's taking me a while to "fill in" the story as it were. It's especially important for some character development I think (well, for the humourous side anyway...). I apologise that it is taking me so long, but having been launched back into rigorous routine that is university once more, I find myself with less time and energy with which to complete it.

Be warned, this may get very naughty in places (but never especially dirty, I don't think, so there's no sense in us up-ing the rating), and there's a lot of romance-y stuff (mixed with a lot of humour, so hopefully you won't mind). And yeah…Hope you like! Please review!

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            Berialagor took me to a tent in Lord Círdan's camp, a part that I was unfamiliar with. I tried not to be too annoyed with being moved away, after all it was only for a week. Just one week, and then I'd be married to my love Ereinion. That notion both excited and scared me. Never in my entire life had I ever thought I'd be married at the age of 18. I hated guys, they were always so up themselves and if they had had any interest in me, they sure had had a funny way of saying it.

            But what really annoyed me, wasn't so much that Círdan had intervened- indeed, the sensible part of my mind pointed out that these were the same ethics I held to- but more that my sister Rhiannon had been taken to Glorfindel's tent, and yet I was no longer allowed to live in Ereinion's tent. That's just a tad unfair, don't you think?

            What added fuel to the fire was that Rhiannon and I had a tent that we had previously used that no one had since moved into, a tent where I could have watched over my wounded sister, but nobody had thought to let us reside there. No, no, it was far more logical to have me on the other side of the Elves' camps, away from my sister to whom I'd end up going to check on anyway and instead, to put her in Glorfindel's tent when they are not yet married either!

            Am I the only one who has noticed this injustice??

            Anyway, back to the story. Upon entering the small tent, I found a tunic and breeches waiting on the blankets that formed the bed (obviously word travels very fast). I noticed that like the previous tent I had shared with Rhiannon, this had a bed to either side, but as Berialagor sat down on the second bed, I realised that I would not be sharing with my sister again. That fact irritated me and I irrationally hated Berialagor for a moment…but that only lasted a moment before I remembered that she was other female company and somebody who had been an Elf all her life as opposed to just the last couple of weeks.

            I threw off the cloak and was about to dress when I heard Berialagor gently reprimand, "My Lady…"

            I looked over at her, seeing her hold up a healing kit that I had not seen on the other bed. I sighed. She patiently applied salves to my bruises and cuts then gestured for me to get dressed, which I did quickly, feeling suddenly uncomfortable wearing just my flimsy underwear. I flopped onto the bed and looked over at Berialagor. "So what now?" I asked.

            "I have no further orders but to keep you safe for this time," Berialagor replied. "It would be best for us to remain here for the moment and not get caught in the confusion that often occurs following a battle. Therefore, I propose that we 'talk'."

            Oh, dear. "What about?" I asked warily.

            "Firstly, you have denied any physical relationship with the High King, that is correct?" Berialagor questioned.

            I blushed. "Well…yes." I said. When Berialagor looked at me curiously, I realised that I would have to explain further or she would not be entirely assured that I was still a virgin. "I once washed his torso over…and left him tied up with the washcloth."

            Berialagor almost choked on that. She blinked and tried to push the blush from her face. "Right…that is good- I mean! Um, I was referring to the fact that you and he haven't, er, been completely bonded. As our Lord Gil-galad's wife-to-be, you and he most of all must abide by the laws and customs of the Eldar."

            Damn…all those missed opportunities had apparently been a good thing. It still made me grumpy though (however much I still hold to my ethics of sex being only between a married couple. Call me old-fashioned, but that's what I believe in, though I won't hold it against anyone for being different…and no one should be nasty to me for holding to my own ideals about such issues).

            "As I understand it," Berialagor continued. "You were raised by humans, and thus these customs need to be explained?"

            That's one way of putting it. I nodded sheepishly.

            "Usually when two Elves wish to marry, their families would meet and the betrothal would be announced. Silver rings are traded, and the betrothal would stand for at least a year, though it could be longer. It could always been revoked during that period at any time- not that I think that's necessary for you to know, but it's best to give you all the facts. At the time of the betrothal, the betrothed then announce a date for the marriage- setting it past the traditional year of waiting- and then another feast was held at which the marriage was celebrated."

            Did I miss something? No vows, no exchanging rings, just skip to the reception? It sounded too good to be true.

            Berialagor took a deep breath and continued. "After the feast, the mother of the bride and the father of the bridegroom join the hands of the betrothed and bless them, in which Varda, Manwë and Ilúvatar are called upon as witnesses. The betrothed then exchange their silver rings, treasuring them, and instead give a slender gold ring which is worn upon the index finger of the right hand."

            Alright, the exchanging rings thing was in there…Nice…but I was still suspicious. "So the betrothed don't actually have anything to say? They just stand there?"

            Berialagor laughed. "Yes. Clearly these customs were made by one who the insight to know that brides and bridegrooms are very nervous on their wedding day and are likely to make a mess of things if left to do anything but the most simple of tasks." She gave me a sly sideways glance. "Or maybe it is that brides and bridegrooms have other things on their minds…"

            "Berialagor!" I exclaimed my voice becoming high pitched with a combination of indignation and laughter. It did nothing to help my blushing either.

            "There is also a tradition of the father of the bridegroom to give a necklace or something like that to the bride and the mother of the bride to give the bridegroom a similar gift. As we are at war, I imagine that that particular tradition will be kept for later. I have once observed Lord Círdan eyeing you and Lord Gil-galad with a hint of a smile on his lips; he may yet have foreseen this and found such a gift for you, though I do not know of it, if this is the case."

            I sighed a little bit embarrassed. "I have nothing to give Ereinion, nor any mother to bless us."

            Berialagor hesitated. "Would I be assuming too much if I offer myself to attend your wedding in your mother's place?"

            "You would do that for me?" I asked softly, so flattered that on top of all the other duties that Berialagor had now assumed, she offer yet more of herself, to be my mother for my wedding (and, I came to realise, in some other matters as well. She was my teacher about the Eldarin way of life which is what mothers essentially teach their children). "You will be my mother?"

            Berialagor nodded, looking uncomfortable all of a sudden. "If you don't want me to, that's fine-"

            I leapt across the tent and hugged her, ignoring the ungainly armour she wore. "Thank you! Thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you!" I moved back for a moment, a thought coming to my head. "You will be my sister's mother too, won't you?"

            Berialagor was grinning. "Of course! I could hardly be a mother for only one of you!"

            We were still grinning as several talking Elves stopped outside our tent.

            "Did you hear?" the first asked.

            "Yes, and at long last, I say!" another answered.

            "She's young to be sure," a third commented. "But she is full grown and she will make our High King a splendid Queen."

            "I heard rumour that she is to be sent to Minas Ithil or Osgiliath once they are wed."

            "I hope not. If the Lady Anórmír and Minaimír can pull another stunt like that to win the war, I want them to be around to at least try it."

            "Nor I, though I am more concerned for an heir to the High Kingship than I am about another glimpse of expanses of the creamy skin of our King's Lady." The third put in with a brief chuckle.

            "Aye, we have waited eons for Gil-galad to even look upon an Elf-maiden with an eye of interest. If the High King dies, Elrond will refuse to take up the crown and then where will we be?"

            "Indeed. The sooner he has the sweet Lady's pleasures and her belly swollen with child, the better we will all feel, I think."

            There was collective murmur of agreement.

            Inside the tent however, I stood in dumbfounded silence, a look of almost horrified realisation on my face. (And just a tad bit annoyed…why did Elves have this obsession with talking about Ereinion and I in such innuendo?!)

            Berialagor gave me a reassuring pat on the shoulder. "I will go and talk to them. They should be more careful about what they say." She left the tent and I knew that she would not be going far.

            However, it was at this time more than any other perhaps, that I just wanted to be alone. I slowly sat down on the bed, still in shock. I suddenly felt like a silly little girl. I had not realised just how important my marriage to Ereinion was. Our mutual love was the cause for us to get married, but there was a great many other reasons why it was so much more necessary for it to happen as quickly as could be arranged, and if that meant the Elves must tolerate a very young Queen then they were willing to do so.

            I reminded myself that I knew there was Ereinion's other side, the side of him that everyone called Gil-galad; Gil-galad was the High King of the Elves in Middle Earth, he was their ruler, their leader and they would go through anything to do his will and he to do what was best by them. By marrying Ereinion, I married Gil-galad who was as much apart of him, as my heritage from being raised by humans. It was inevitable and logical. I knew that.

            The Elves needed security in the knowledge that even if Gil-galad should die, that they would not be left leaderless, that there would still be someone to look after their fair realm of Lindon at the end of the day. It was a mutually beneficial relationship between the High King and his subjects. I understood that.

            But, oh, how it hurt. It hurt to be spoken of as if I were worth little more than chattel. To the Elves under Gil-galad's reign, I was a step closer to their guarantee that everything would be well, regardless of what happened.

            I pulled back the covers on my bed and laid down, the tears falling from my eyes unnoticed. I was only 18 years old. Back home in Australia that meant I had only just reached the age where I was eligible to get married without my parents' consent. It was not the age I had expected to actually find myself in the position where my wedding was almost imminent. Nor was it the age I had imagined I would be having children. I had my whole life ahead of me- even as a human, my life had been there and I had every opportunity still to take and the possibility of the freedom to do it (except that I was broke, so I still lived my parents and thus I still had to live by their rules. I swear no other 18 year old has to be home before dark, like I did).

            To make it all worse, I would be obligated to get pregnant as soon as destiny would allow (since it was only really a question of how often Ereinion and I could find time to enjoy- *ahem*, sorry, I meant 'join' in- that most intimate of acts), almost right from the moment at which we were finally and absolutely declared to be wed.

            And if that wasn't bad enough, I still had that 'cycle' to go through whenever it would decide to show up. I still wanted to hit Elrond for describing it the way he had. Being likened to a bitch or mare in heat is not the most favourable of comparison to two girls who reject being treated as anything less than the equal of our male counterparts.

            Of course, it wouldn't be Ereinion who'd have to carry the baby for 9 months…wait a second…please tell me that Elves have the same gestation period as mortal women!!?? The prospect of nine months of carrying around a baby was bad enough…but if I had to have a huge belly for even longer than that…I don't think I'd cope.

            On the bright side, an image of a pregnant Gil-galad popped into my head and I struggled to restrain my helpless giggles as Berialagor re-entered our tent. I closed my eyes so hopefully she would get the message that I didn't really want to talk at that point in time. It wasn't because I was sad any longer. My tears now were ones of suppressed laughter. Can you just see it? Ereinion turns up in his gorgeous blue stately robes, huge belly sticking out in front, his hand rubbing his sore back and….HEEE HEEEEE HEEEE HEEEEE HEEEE!

            Even now I'm still cackling over that image. But what happened next was even better.

            I turned onto my side with my back to my guard, and tried to calm myself down. However my thoughts were not so much to myself as I had previously believed.

            As far as I was aware, it was the females who carry the baby during pregnancy, meleth nín, Ereinion said dryly within the confines of my head. Unless my former tutors were wrong and neglected to correct my assumptions.

            See what I mean? It was to die for…it was so funny I just burst out laughing, not caring if Berialagor thought I was strange. I pushed my face into the pillow, trying to muffle my very noticeable amusement.

            I couldn't think of any reply to Ereinion, I just kept laughing, clutching my stomach as the muscles began to protest their overuse. Eventually I managed to get it down to just bursting into giggle every couple of seconds.

            Berialagor stared at me with one eyebrow raised. "Our Lord Gil-galad has been whispering thoughts of humour within your head?" she surmised. I nodded. "Might I enquire as to the nature of this joke that you find so funny, my Lady?"

            I laughed again, shaking my head, whilst wishing the red colour of my cheeks would disappear.

            After I had finally calmed down, I spent the rest of the afternoon sleeping. I was awoken by Berialagor just after the sun had gone down, though here it was sometimes hard to tell, given the lack of clear sky to judge by.

            I didn't ask where we were going, but it turned out to be the main pavilion in Gil-galad's camp. As the tent flaps were opened for us, we found the leaders of the five different sections of the Alliance camp in attendance as well as Elrond.

            "Is-" I immediately began upon spotting the latter.

            "Your sister is alive and resting. We will know later the extent of her injuries though I have tended all the wounds that I could glean from her present state."

            I smiled sheepishly. "Thank you, Lord Elrond. I'm guessing Lord Glorfindel has opted to stay with her?"

            "Indeed, that is the case," Elrond inclined his head, his lips twitching at the corners with a smile.

            "Lady Anórmír?" Círdan gestured to the empty seat between him and Ereinion.

            I feigned surprise as I moved to take my place. "I am allowed to sit next to him, my Lord?"

            Círdan laughed and Ereinion gave me a reprimanding pat on my bottom before I sat down.

            Can I enquire as to what we are doing? I asked Ereinion silently. He did not answer, but meals were brought in by several soldiers along with two jugs of wine.

            "We have other matters to discuss this evening, Lady Anórmír. Though Lord Círdan thought it wise to permit the High King Gil-galad a small visit from his betrothed, seeing as though you will be separated quite often this week, prior to your wedding." Elendil advised me, glancing at Ereinion with a sly grin.

            "There is also the question of your guards to attend to," Ereinion said, taking up his knife and fork. "I have assigned two of my own guard to watch over your tent tonight and if they wish it, they will become part of your guard permanently."

            "How many guards do I have to have?" I asked curiously, a tinge of worry in my voice. Berialagor was alright, but now I had three and by the sounds of it, they would not be the last. I took a delicate bite of the creamy potato dish on the plate before me.

            "Berialagor will be with you at all times, of course," Ereinion explained. "Then another four guards for during the day following wherever you go, another four for during the night, and two guards set permanently to watch your tent."

            "Eleven?" I whispered in astonishment. "Isn't that a bit much?"

            "I do speak, of course, of the time when we are married," Ereinion amended gently. "Until then, there will be only five guards including your personal guard. Two for day, two for night. I would have assigned the eleven guards, but I have not yet chosen them and my advisors will not let me spare any more from my own guards."

            I nodded, still in shock. Eleven guards…I hoped they were only for while we were at this war and it wasn't as permanent as Ereinion was implying.

            "If I may interrupt, my Lords?" Berialagor enquired. Ereinion gestured for her to continue. She turned to me. "My Lady, as daunting as this number may seem, it will seem only bare in comparison to the number of guards you would have were you to become with child."

            I cringed inwardly.

            "Berialagor is right," Elrond put in. "Your guards would number 30 at the minimum if such a situation were to arise. And there would be at least two Ladies-in-waiting added to your entourage, to help you with the pregnancy and birth."

            Bloody buggering hell. Hadn't Elves ever heard of privacy? What were so many guards supposed to do? I mean, there are only four corners to a tent. What did the other two dozen think they were going to do in the mean time?

            "Ah, which reminds me," Círdan said, putting his napkin on the table and stepping outside to speak with an Elf who stood waiting for the purpose of running messages and errands.

            Círdan came back a few moments later. "Berialagor? If I may ask for your aid at this time? With the High King Gil-galad present, you needn't fear the Lady Anórmír running off anywhere she shouldn't be without you." Berialagor glanced at Ereinion and gave a short nod before heading out of the tent with Círdan.

            Anárion started up a conversation about moving troops out and, having nothing to contribute, I stayed quiet, eating my dinner mostly unnoticed. Like most brides-to-be, I was beginning to have a glimmer of doubt about this whole thing. I wanted to marry my beloved Ereinion, but I would have to put up with so many things that I didn't want, and we hadn't even been wed yet!

            Anórmír? Ereinion's deep voice was quiet within my head.

            I made an effort to smile up at him, but he seemed troubled still, though he said nothing else. He reached for his goblet and sipped some of its contents. With a wicked little grin, I brought up an image in my head, knowing that Ereinion would 'see' it in his thoughts also.

            His reaction was better than I could have anticipated. For instance, he didn't throw me onto the ground and take me there and then. Instead, he choked into his goblet, though this went largely unnoticed by our present company, and he opted to almost crush the pewter cup in his strong hand.

            I could clearly sense his arousal and frustration and I tried to stop the smirk from showing on my face as I cackled wickedly through our bond.

            I chanced a glance at Elrond, who could see us clearly since Círdan had left his dinner so abruptly. He raised one eyebrow, indicating that he knew very well that Ereinion and I were conversing privately. I tried to stop the grin on my face spreading, quickly lowering my gaze to the half-empty plate before me and taking another mouthful of the delicious pepper steak pie.

            To my utter disappointment, Círdan chose to arrive back a few minutes later followed by Berialagor and two other guards, presumably from Ereinion's own.

            "Ah," Ereinion said, keen for a distraction that didn't come from me. "My Lady, if I may introduce Túmagol and Túmegil. They will be the other two guards who watch over you until tomorrow morning at which time your other guards will be selected. They were part of my father's own guard until he sent me to the Havens to live with Lord Círdan, and since then they have served me faithfully."

            A single glance revealed that Túmagol and Túmegil were identical twins and their proud look of stern duty caused me to be somewhat disheartened. This was beginning to feel more and more like imprisonment.

            "If the Lady Anórmír has finished, Berialagor, Túmagol and Túmegil will show her back to her tent." Lord Círdan suggested.

            I knew a dismissal when I heard one. I removed the napkin from my lap and with a quick kiss to Ereinion's cheek (that he hadn't been expecting) I walked back to 'my' tent with Berialagor in the lead and the twin-guards bringing up the rear.

            I was surprised to find that yet another Elf-maiden had been set up in the tent and had brought a large trunk with her. This Elf-maiden, however, wore no armour and though I knew little about Elves, her clothes seemed suited to travelling thus I surmised correctly that she had only recently arrived.

            "My Lady," the Elf-maiden curtsied politely.

            I blinked. Covering up for my awkwardness, I smiled and giggled. "My sister and I were beginning to doubt the existence of other female Elves and now suddenly I am finding there are so many of them here!" I gave the newly-arrived Elf-maiden a hug in greeting.

            The Elf-maiden smiled. Like Berialagor, she was many centuries- possibly even eons- older than Rhiannon and I.

            "Lady Anórmír, this is Sadoriel. Lord Círdan requested a lady-in-waiting for you from Lindon and Sadoriel was chosen by the High King's mother to be your companion." Berialagor informed me.

            Ereinion's mother? I hadn't realised that my beloved's mother was still in Middle Earth…I made a note to ask about her later, as Sadoriel had sat me on my 'bed' and was now brushing my long hair.

            I like having my hair brushed, especially by someone else. Do you ever feel like that? It's kind of nice to be primped and pampered and not have to worry about things for just that short time.

            I closed my eyes, enjoying myself immensely. Apparently my afternoon nap had not been enough to suffice, as I don't actually remember falling asleep, though I do recall waking up to find myself tucked in comfortably beneath the blankets, though thankfully still wearing my tunic (what had happened to the boots and trousers I'm not entirely certain) and the tent was dark.

            The reason for my waking became apparent as the tent-flap opened and Berialagor stood in its opening, preventing much of the torchlight from outside to enter. I heard quiet voices conversing in Elvish, to which Berialagor's was added heatedly. I heard my surrogate mother mention "Círdan" in her response to whoever was standing without.

            "Berialagor," the sterner, deeper, familiar voice warned. Adrenaline raced through my veins in recognition.

            Berialagor bowed her head, though not entirely happy about it, and stepped aside to allow Ereinion to enter.

            Ereinion ducked as he came in and I sat up in bed, unable to keep from smiling. His eyes glanced at Sadoriel and I sensed his mild irritation at the extra chaperone that Círdan had so cleverly arranged for me without Ereinion being any the wiser.

            Sadoriel already sat up in her bed, keeping an eye of my beloved and I couldn't help smirking at him.

            "I was hoping my Lady might grant me a proper kiss good night," Ereinion said softly as he knelt beside me.

            "Was my kiss before not proper also, my Lord?" I teased.

            "It was more than what would have dared before the other Lords of this Alliance, yet less than what I would have liked," Ereinion whispered heatedly, wrapping his arms around me and covering my mouth with his own. Be thankful that Círdan has thought to give you added protection from me, or I swear I would have my revenge on you for what you did to me at dinner.

            I chuckled inwardly, sliding my arms around his neck. Ereinion slipped one of his hands down, not breaking our kiss, and pushed his hand beneath the blankets to caress my bare legs.

            I was panting heavily when he finally withdrew from the kiss. "Ereinion," I breathed desperately, only too glad when he complied and closed the distance again to taste my mouth. He was intoxicating, more than any wine could ever be. Driving me to distraction so that I barely realised where we were, let alone that we still had company, and Ereinion slid his hand up my thigh pushing my tunic up along with it…

            "Ereinion Gil-galad!"

            We broke apart as though we'd been caught doing something we shouldn't have (which was true enough). Círdan stood with his arms crossed, looking meaningfully at us.

            I heard Ereinion cursing, though he was wise enough not to say any of it aloud.

            Sadoriel peered out from behind Círdan; it seemed she had left the tent and swiftly gone to fetch the Lord of the Grey Havens who was perhaps the only person who could deny Ereinion anything. Círdan stepped out of the doorway and I noticed somewhat embarrassedly that Túmagol, Túmegil and several other Elves in armour that I didn't recognise were all peering in through the open tent flap. Each face held a wide grin or a badly-suppressed smirk as they gazed upon my beloved and I.

            Ereinion stood up, blocking my view, though I was a little grateful to be out of the spotlight as it were. It was like being caught in those big spotlights that you see in the war movies featuring prison camps- an ironic simile, I thought.

            Ereinion and Círdan spoke shortly in Elvish so I didn't understand what was said, but it ended with Ereinion being extradited from my tent, glancing ruefully at me before he was out of my sight.

            Círdan just smiled at me and shook his head. "May the Valar help us all, Lady Anórmír, the High King cannot keep his hands off you even for a week."

            "But our dreams will be all the sweeter for it, I think," I replied shyly.

            Círdan laughed heartily, shaking his head as he left me alone with Berialagor and Sadoriel once more.

            I couldn't help a guilty blush rising in my cheeks as Berialagor and Sadoriel stared down at me.

            "My Lady…" Berialagor began, but then she seemed to think better of it. "You should get some rest. I suspect you will need it to hold off the High King Gil-galad, as I have no doubt he will be attending the tournament to decide your other guards."

            "Tournament?" I repeated.

            "The High King and Lord Círdan have let all of their commanders know to pass on the word that whoever should wish to be part of your guard- or to fill in the places of the High King's guard, if Túmagol and Túmegil should decide they wish to retain their places as part of the Queen's guard- then they are to attend a meeting in the central practice area of the High King's camp. Any Elf who doesn't wish to compete for the honour, will be helping to pack up tents and equipment and moving out to the siege at Barad-dûr."

            "But that is tomorrow," Sadoriel said. "And there is much to be done tomorrow."

            I got the impression there was more to that than anyone was telling me…but sleep overcame me once more and I did not ask.

            The 'tournament' the next morning was an interesting affair to say the least. Berialagor and I arrived after checking on Rhiannon in Glorfindel's tent and leaving Sadoriel there to give my sister a well-needed bath. Only a lot of self-restraint stopped my jaw from dropping at the sight before me, though my eyes widened in bewilderment.

            "Quick, Berialagor, you had better go tell them that's it's not really the honour they think it is," I joked weakly, trying to feel more at ease.

            Berialagor surveyed the several hundred Elves who had turned up. "There's a lot more than even I had expected, my Lady. This may take much longer than anticipated."

            I glanced up at her, but she made no other remark. Annoyed, I replied, "Stop calling me 'my Lady'…I have a name and I would like it much better if you were to use it."

            "As you wish, my Lady."

            I wasn't given an opportunity to retort as Círdan strode up to us from behind. "Lady Anórmír…I hope you will not mind if I accompany you this morning?"

            "So long as my Lord Gil-galad does not become jealous," I replied, strolling over to where Elrond and Ereinion were arranging the 'events' of the tournament.

            "My Lord Círdan, Lady Anórmír," Elrond greeted, trying not to seem as harried as he was. He glanced up at Ereinion. "We're going to have to organise them all into groups, my Lord."

            Ereinion nodded. "Put them into groups of twenty-four. Four pairs of each group shall duel while the rest look on. Each group should yield only 3 warriors by the end of this day, after which point we test their skills in all areas and the best of them shall be selected as Anórmír's guards."

            "And an additional two to replace Túmagol and Túmegil from your own guard," Círdan reminded.

            "Aye," Ereinion agreed.

            "Lady Anórmír will need at least another two guards chosen for her guard today," Berialagor added. "Three of us is not enough to protect her day and night while we wait for her new guards to be finalised."

            Ereinion sighed. "I know that. I am hoping that there shall be several who show themselves to be particularly good with a sword. I cannot think of any better way at the moment."

            "Why don't you let Anórmír decide?" Elrond suggested lightly.

            Their eyes all turned to me. I feigned shock. "What? You mean I actually get to do something? I suppose I was wondering what I was meant to be doing today aside from watching a lot of people fight each other, of course."

            My Elven beloved stepped towards me, taking me in his arms. "I am most sorry that this has fallen upon you so quickly and without much warning, but in these troubled times, I have neither the leisure to court you romantically as I wish I could, nor can I afford to be lax in my protection of you. Many of these guards will be unnecessary if you reside within the borders of an Elven realm. With the exception of Berialagor, you will not be constantly accompanied by these guards unless you travel beyond the borders of our realms."

            "Merciful Elbereth," I praised. I remembered something and eyed Ereinion curiously. "Did you sleep well last night?"

            Ereinion only grinned then went to help Elrond sort out the teams of 24.

            There's not much else I can say for the tournament really, it was spectacular to see the Elves fighting…they're so graceful yet they move with deadly accuracy.

            I did notice a certain amount of stiffness and a slight sense of jealously radiating from Ereinion when he turned from watching the competitors of one group to where I watched another. His jealous stemmed from the fact that I was so fascinated by the quick movements of the fights before me that my concentration on all else waned, and I could not draw my eyes from the combatants until one or the other had triumphed over his opponent. That did not mean that I did not glance at Ereinion often nor that I was unaware of his feelings; quite the contrary. But I never looked at him when he was looking at me, and he was rather childishly upset about it, though he tried to keep those emotions in check for that same reason.

            Noon came and the group was barely a hundred Elves less than it had been at the start. I thought maybe everyone would disperse for lunch, but as several Elves brought out a huge pot of stew to put on a table that was crowded on one half with bowls, I realised everyone would be eating while they watched.

            Getting somewhat tired of this competition and not feeling very hungry at all, I turned to look around to observe how much of the camp still remained (most of it, rather surprisingly) and by chance, I spotted another friend.

            I glanced at Berialagor. "Would it be entirely rude if I were to go and thank the mare who saved me in the battle?"

            Berialagor looked at the combatants and onlookers. Their attention was clearly elsewhere, and no one so much as glanced our way. "I do not think so."

            We silently slipped away towards the horse pens where my newly-acquired horse whinnied in greeting. I climbed the railing and moved further into the crowd of horses, in the hopes I would not be spotted, my mare followed of course and I patted her and rubbed her nose in gratitude and appreciation. She was a beautiful horse, tall and lithe, she was bred for speed rather than a real war horse. And she was as happy to see me as I was to see her.

            I sensed my beloved coming up behind me, and I smiled. Trying to sneak up on me?

            Nay, bain hiril nín, Ereinion replied as I turned around.

            Shouldn't you be watching the 'tournament'? My expression became one of shock as my horse nudged me and I suddenly found myself in Ereinion's arms.

            His voice chuckled in my head at my mare's antics. Even Lossúl wants to help us find the opportunity to be together.

            Lossúl?

            The name of your mare. You chose well. She is one of the swiftest horses in the herds of Lindon and had not yet been claimed by any Elf. She will obey you faithfully to the death, if need be.

            It's a nice sentiment, but I hope it will never come to that, I replied, forgetting that it almost had.

            Agreed. And I doubt you will ever be in such a situation ever again. I could not bear to face the same fear and torment I felt when I learnt of what you and your sister had done. Ereinion fervently sealed my mouth with a deep kiss.

            I will never get tired of kissing Ereinion, and as it seemed that that small act was all we were allowed to do until we were wed, we were determined to do so at every opportunity.

            But as fate would have it, our precious moments were always interrupted by an equally determined Elf-lord chaperone.

            I heard Lord Círdan's voice speaking with Berialagor at the fence, but it didn't completely register in my conscious mind (hey, if you knew what it was to be kissing Ereinion, you would understand that everything around us doesn't matter) until I heard Lord Círdan shout something to the horse master, who whistled a small tune and called something to the horses in Elvish.

            The horses moved to the sides so that all on the tournament fields could plainly see my beloved and I. Lossúl stood behind me, nudging me against Ereinion, even though I didn't think the distance could be much closer lest we…

            *cough* I'll leave that thought for you to figure out on your own.

            Needless to say, the Elves immediately turned to watch us and there was soon an uproar of cheers and whistles. I was blushing immensely now, but Ereinion kept his hand behind my head and his arms around my body, so that I could not break our kiss. When I gave myself up to our embrace once more, Ereinion waved a hand at the Elven soldiers as if to say 'Settle down, be quiet', though this caused several Elves to laugh because the High King wouldn't remove his lips from his Lady's even to tell his command to pipe down.

            At last Ereinion decided we would have to stop our tongue-duelling (well, that's the only other word for 'kissing' that I can come up with…and it's true enough, though if there'd been a winner, it had definitely been him) and we reluctantly withdrew.

            I was breathless still, and I rested my head against his chest while our senses reeled. My Lord…my love…I do not think you should tempt me like this again, I whispered in his mind. I do not think I could wait another week to be wed…

            I could feel Ereinion beam with delight as he tightened his arms around me. As I said a week at the latest, meleth nín. We can always wed sooner…

            I considered this, with a brief thought as to whether it'd be possible for us to wed today…but the logical, reasonable part of my mind knew that I needed the extra time to ready myself for what I was getting into. Tempting…but I think it would only be fair if we were to give the cooks and others a bit more time to prepare.

            Ereinion sighed, tinged with disappointment. Apparently his night had been of a worse kind of sleeplessness than I had originally guessed. "As you wish."

            We returned to watch more of the fighting, holding hands this time; it seemed Círdan was going to be a slight bit more lenient in his chaperonage given that he had revealed us to so many of Ereinion's command (those same who were fighting to become my guards).

            One of the same pairs that had been fighting when I'd left to check on Lossúl were still fighting when Ereinion and I reached the group to watch. They were trying very hard to best one another, and it made for a spectacular performance. The opponents' grins made it clear that they were enjoying the fight as much as people were watching it.

            It became even funnier when I recognised one of them as Rúmion, the Elf who had first flirted with me in the dinner queue and then teased Ereinion when the High King had come in to make sure everyone there knew I was not 'up for grabs' so to speak (what a bad phrase and unintended pun I have picked, but I can't think how else to explain it).

            I glanced up at Ereinion, wondering what he thought of it and I could tell he was grudgingly acknowledging that these two were an exceptional pair. I recalled what Elrond had said about me being able to pick the two who would be my other two guards until the tournament was finished and I decided that Rúmion and his opponent should be those two.

            I stepped into the circle of people, strolling up to them seemingly without a care. I felt Ereinion's heart jump as I walked casually between the other sword-wielding combatants and he strode forward quickly to join me.

            These two? I heard Ereinion asked plaintively.

            Aye. They have shown themselves to be the best I have seen all day. I answered.

            Did you have to choose Rúmion and Thangail? Ereinion was clearly not very happy with my choice. I heard him sigh inwardly though, as he hadn't said that I wasn't allowed to choose my guards when Elrond had suggested it and however much he was dubious about their character, Ereinion knew that Rúmion and Thangail would protect me extremely well in the situation of an attack.

            Rúmion and Thangail noticed us standing waiting for them and they immediately sheathed their swords and bowed low.

            "My Lord King, Lady Anórmír," they said, then rose to stand tall.

            Ereinion almost hesitated before he spoke. "Rúmion and Thangail of Lindon, you have shown yourselves to be worthy of protecting my Lady, the future High Queen of the Elves. I ask if you would accept this task, knowing that the consequences of doing so could result in dire events?"

            Formalities. I'd almost forgotten. I'm glad Ereinion did the speaking. I probably would've botched it up otherwise.

            "Your Majesty, I speak for us both when I say that is a high honour you place on us, and we gladly accept." Rúmion said as he and Thangail bowed low again.

            "If you will accompany Berialagor and Lady Anórmír to her tent?" Ereinion said.

            I raised an eyebrow at my beloved. Don't I get to watch the rest of it?

            There will be other days for you to continue watching. Ereinion replied. I knew that what he really wanted was for me to be out of the way so he would be able to pick 'sensible' Elves to be the remainder of my guard for when we were married. I was a little annoyed by that, but at the same time my recent victory in gaining two guards who seemed to absolutely irritate my husband-to-be made it hard to dampen my spirits.

            Apparently my glee on the matter of my 'victory' was felt by Ereinion as I paid for it dearly later that night.

            We stopped at Glorfindel's tent so I could check on my sister, who was no worse than she had but little better either. I sent a silent prayer to Eru that she would be alright. Glorfindel had a haunted look in his eyes, and I feared that if my sister didn't pull through or if she tried this again, he would end up back in the Halls of Mandos again. I said nothing, knowing I'd only make matters worse between my sister and her Elven love.

            Sadoriel returned with us to 'my' tent in Círdan camp, and immediately began the process of occupying my time. She opened the trunk she had brought with her and I was stunned to find numerous Elven gowns packed carefully inside along with several hair clips and combs. Sadoriel explained that whilst I resided in the war camps I may not always have the opportunity to wear these beautiful dresses and my wardrobe would be sparse compared to what I would have upon my arrival in Lindon, where Ereinion's mother, the Lady Tinnulin, was elatedly awaiting the time when she would meet her unknown daughter-in-law-to-be. Apparently Círdan and Lady Tinnulin had intuitively known that Ereinion and 'a young Vanyarin maiden' would eventually marry and when I turned up and our mutual attraction became obvious, Círdan knew I was indeed the one they had foreseen.

            Nice, so I've been destined to marry Ereinion since before I was born. If that's not creepy enough, there's some issues of 'cradle-snatching' that Rhiannon and I have only glossed over in thought as well.

            But true love makes these things irrelevant anyway, so I'm not going to bother speaking of them further.

            Sadoriel didn't show me my wedding gown or its accessories, but she did select a pale silvery blue dress that sat off the shoulders with long flowing sleeves and an ornate silver belt of flowers that hung across my hips. The skirt of the dress trailed slightly and I privately felt the dress was far too good to look at, let alone wear.

            Once I was in the gown, Sadoriel went about arranging my hair with the matching silver flower comb. She pulled my hair up into a sort of bun at the top of my head, held there by the comb, whilst letting much of my masses of golden waves and curls fall down my back.

            "You should not tempt the High King," Berialagor observed to Sadoriel. "He is already smitten with Anórmír, now that you have revealed her great beauty I do not think we shall be able to tear her from him at all tonight, Elbereth help us."

            I blushed, secretly pleased with my surrogate mother's praise. I hoped I did nothing to stuff up tonight. I couldn't bear the humiliation if I did.

            "Ladies?" Rúmion called. "Are you ready? Lord Círdan has sent word to us that Ereinion has arrived at his tent already and is anxious to see his betrothed again."

            "A second longer if you please," Sadoriel called back, quickly but carefully applying colour to my lips with what looked like a kind of lip gloss.

            When she was done, Berialagor held the tent flap open and I stepped lightly into the cool evening where Rúmion and Thangail were floored and they immediately stood taller.

            "May I say, sweet Lady, that you are paragon of beauty," Thangail complimented outrageously. "There be many hearts that you will break when the Elves see you thus."

            "Aye, the High King should consider himself fortunate that he looked upon you first, or surely his soldiers would have turned from fighting the Enemy to fighting for your favour," Rúmion added with a cheeky grin.

            I blushed but smiled.

            "Stop it, you two," Berialagor said a smile on her face as well. Thangail and Rúmion led me to Lord Círdan's council tent where several Elves 'guarded' the 'door'. Their eyes lingered on us as we approached and they hastily moved to pull the flap aside so I could enter.

            Funny how people can be the soul of courtesy when a young female is all dressed up…

            Ereinion had been sipping wine, sitting lazily in his seat, staring at one of the standards in Círdan's tent, but he immediately put down his goblet and got to his feet upon sighting me. He didn't seem able to speak, so it was Círdan who invited me to sit down on Ereinion's left hand side.

            "Anórmír," Ereinion breathed, eyeing me appreciatively.

            "Yes, my Lord?" I replied softly as I moved to take my seat.

            Ereinion quickly pulled my chair out for me, like the perfect gentleman- or rather, gentleelf. He sat back down, still completely stunned.

            I couldn't help silently gloating at his enrapture. Aye, he was mine and mine alone.

            Give me a break, we all have our faults. Vanity and pride are mine (among others that you've no doubt noticed).

            Ereinion was unnaturally quiet during the meal, leaving Lord Círdan and I to fill in the silence. I didn't have a lot to say either, but I greatly enjoyed Lord Círdan's tales of my beloved's childhood. Lord Círdan is an extraordinary storyteller and let no one tell you otherwise. I spent a lot of time laughing and even Ereinion smiled or groaned when he realised the particular tale of which Círdan was enlightening me. My Elven Love kept glancing at me when he thought we weren't paying attention, and he'd squeeze my hand beneath the table as if to make sure that I was really there with him.

            As we finished our meal, Ereinion became increasingly edgy. He shifted uncomfortably in his seat and kept glancing up at Círdan; Ereinion was not so kingly now in this state of palpable nervousness.

            Círdan casually swilled his wine around in his goblet before draining the last of it and it was clear he had made his decision to end the High King's misery. Standing up, he moved over to a table where a dark blue velvet pouch lay. "Before the High King leaves to finish up the paperwork he has been neglecting- in other words, before you must both be parted for another night, Lady Anórmír- there is the issue of officialising your betrothal." He opened the pouch and withdrew something- which I knew to be the silver ring that would symbolise my 'official' betrothal to Ereinion- and passed it to the High King of the Elves (who looked like he might have almost being sweating…I doubt I shall forget that moment and I confess that later I would tease him merciless about it).

            Ereinion took my right hand in his left and slipped the ring on my index finger. It fitted perfectly. I knew at once that the silver used for the ring was mithril; it shone brightly even in the dim light of the lamps overhead. The ring was studded with tiny star-shaped diamonds that glittered like their real counterparts. The beauty and craftsmanship of the ring far surpassed anything a jeweller could have come up with back home.

            I smiled with joy and took the identical ring from Círdan's offered palm and repeated the gesture with my husband-to-be.

            Simultaneously, Ereinion and I lent in for a soft kiss.

            Eventually though, it was time for me to leave once again; as Berialagor had predicted, it was something Ereinion was extremely reluctant to do. He held me gently with his hands on the sides of my waist, as though frightened that his hands- strong from the continuous weapons practice throughout his life- would somehow break me like I was a fragile flower. His kisses matched this sentiment, his lips gently resting on mine.

            At last, my beloved seemed to find his voice. "Anórmír…" he whispered achingly. "My beautiful, lovely lady…my future bride…" He sighed wistfully. "How can I concentrate on this war when I know what fair company I have had to forfeit this night?"

            "We would not have been allowed to spend this whole night together," I reminded him with a soft giggle. "And if you remember that as soon as this war is over, we will have been wed and that our time together will endure less frequent interruptions…then I am sure you will find your concentration." I ran my hand over his cheek and over his hair as I knew he liked.

            "Mmmm," Ereinion murmured, closing his eyes as a small smile lit his features. "You make it very hard to leave, my Lady…"

            As I brought my hand back, I gently- seemingly accidentally- brushed the tip of my beloved's pointed ear. He gasped almost silently, his eyes opening immediately. "But leave I must. I hope you will find time to rest tonight, my Lord. I would hate to attend the remainder of the 'tournament' by myself tomorrow."

            With that, I gave him a cheeky smile and left the tent (though not before I heard Círdan's snickering become undisguised laughter).

            I sensed Ereinion's emotions conflicting- his desire in the wake of my soft caress of his ear, the worry that I would be attending the 'tournament' again (he didn't seem to like me watching so many males compete for the chance to protect me. I personally no longer had any qualms about it other than that I didn't really think I needed protection. I have a talent for getting in and out of trouble with minimal injury to myself) and also his impatience at having to wait to be married and be able to do those things that married couples do (and some unmarried couples…though this is apparently not an option for people of high standing).

            It was that last point that made me begin to wonder if Elf males also had something akin to Elf females 'in heat' time…or maybe it's just a male failing that mortals were unaware that Elves had…

            I was escorted back to the tent I shared with my lady-in-waiting and lady-at-arms by Berialagor, Túmegil and Túmagol. It seemed the changing of my guards had already happened while I was otherwise occupied.

            Fun though it was to dress up, I was glad when Sadoriel helped me into one of the loose slips from my bag that we had decided would be suitable enough to be in place of a proper nightgown (remarkably, Sadoriel admitted that she and Lady Tinnulin hadn't packed any such garments as in their excitement to hear that the High King was looking favourably upon a young Vanyarin maiden they had thought only of enticing him into marriage which of course was unnecessary by the time Sadoriel arrived).

            I settled down under the soft blankets and closed my eyes, willing sleep upon my weary mind. But sleep would not come.

            It was at this point that my gleeful victory about my two newest guards was paid back in full by Ereinion himself; my mind was beset by…images…erotic images…like an R-rated movie they played vividly in my head…

            I tried to push those thoughts away (where the hell had they come from? Or so I had thought at the time), but the soft brushing of another's awareness became too obvious to miss, I opened my eyes and gasped.

            Ereinion! I protested through our mind connection. My love, you should not be-

            But he sent me another image, as if he were in the tent beside me right at that moment, pressing his fingers to my trembling lips as he slid the strap of my nightgown off my shoulder…

            That time I sat bolt upright, a hand to my chest trying to catch my breath. I looked around the tent just to be certain he wasn't there (no way was I going to let him do those kinds of things until we were married!) and I blushed as I met the concerned glances of Sadoriel and Berialagor.

            "My Lady, are you alright?" Sadoriel enquired worriedly.

            What could I say? "I'm fine…just…a disturbing dream…" I replied, settling myself back down on my blankets. "It is of no consequence. I'm sorry to have disturbed you." I turned over so that I would not have to face them as Ereinion renewed his mischievous thoughts within my head.

            Needless to say, I did not get any sleep that night.

            I had just started to drift off with exhaustion (Ereinion had stopped his naughty thinking only a little while before what I guessed must have been sunrise) when Sadoriel shook my shoulder gently.

            "My Lady? Lady Anórmír, the camp stirs- you must get up now." She said softly.

            I buried my head in the pillow miserably. "Must I? I have had no sleep at all this night."

            "Lady Anórmír, you will miss watching the remainder of the tournament today if you stay here," Berialagor reminded as she buckled her sword belt on.

            Despite my drowsiness, Berialagor's statement clicked in my head with another piece of puzzle I had previously been unable to solve.

            "So that's why he did it," I mumbled.

            "My Lady?" Sadoriel queried confused.

            "That's why Ereinion kept my mind awake all night- he didn't want me to attend. He knew I'd be too tired come morning." I put my hands over my face and gritted my teeth.

            "Kept you awake all night?" Berialagor repeated, unable to hide the hint of amusement in her voice. "Pray tell, Lady Anórmír, how did he manage this?"

            By putting his dirty thoughts into my sweet little mind, I thought to myself. Aloud I said, "Never you mind. But I am going to need actual sleep- which will mean skipping the tournament, however much I dislike letting him win. I don't have a better excuse than the one I just gave you, so we'll just let them all think that I'm still recovering from my escapades during the battle. I don't want any visitors, and I don't care how urgent it is- not even if there's orcs outside the door- I don't want to be disturbed."

            "She sounds like a Queen already," Berialagor commented to Sadoriel who was trying to hide her smile behind her hand.

            "That's because I got no sleep and I'm grumpy," I said, pulling the blankets back up over my shoulders. "Sweet Dreams." And with that, I turned over and finally found undisturbed rest.

            Well…until Glorfindel barged in.

            Glorfindel was, to be mild, worried. He stormed into my tent without once heeding my guards' words, and began pacing back and forth, mindless of Berialagor and Sadoriel.

            "What was Minaimîr thinking?" he raved. "She is always getting herself injured so badly! Will she not listen to either of us? Has she no concern for her safety? I should have been there! I should have never let her leave my sight – or my mind! I let her fool me into a false security and now she lies unconscious in my tent and Lord Elrond says that she does not seem to be getting better, though he tries to assure me she is no worse than before. What am I to do?"

            I glared up at him with sleepy eyes. I was not impressed with his choice of timing to come and whinge to me about my sister's inadvertent stupidity. "Here's just a few ideas- select any or all of them at your pleasure: 1) Sit by herself chewing yourself to pieces until you're so guilt-ridden that you take a second trip to visit the Halls of Mandos. 2) Marry her. Nice and simple, this one should curtail most dumb ideas before she gets a chance to act on them. 3) Get her pregnant. I would highly recommend doing this after Idea #2, as it might just get a little embarrassing for you to explain to the many different Lords and Kings that your Elven girlfriend is pregnant to you out of wedlock. 4) Send her away from the Last Alliance- perhaps Minas Ithil, as this would still allow you to visit her, she would be away from the fighting and therefore any plans of idiocy performed would be less likely to result in her death or serious injury. Or if you want something that can be done immediately, I must advice you to do Idea #5 if you value your health and/or chances of ever fathering children someday. 5) Get out of my tent and go find something productive to do to relieve your bored and mindless energy until such time as there is further news on my sister's situation."

            Glorfindel stared at me, suddenly noticing that I was still abed at a daytime hour with my personal guard and lady-in-waiting staring at him. He shifted awkwardly, unsure of what to say now.

            "I have not had a lot of sleep this last night as my future husband-to-be thought it would be extremely funny- not to mention convenient for his own purposes- to show me through our mind-link the sorts of things he'd very much like to do to me- correction, will do with me once we are finally wed. I would be most grateful if you would simply RACK OFF!" I said, ending on a growl. "Forgive me if I lack the necessary courtesy and diplomacy to talk politely, but whilst my sister may be gravely injured- as I haven't forgotten, nor have I stopped caring, but I thought surely you would know her well enough by now to know that regardless of how bad she is wounded she always manages to pull through- there is a simple little fact that you have overlooked. I NEED SLEEP. NOW!"

            Glorfindel's face was bright red by the time I finished my tirade. "Forgive me, my Lady-" he began apologetically, trying not to choke in embarrassment on his words.

            My patience worn out and my need for sleep was too great, so I decided to help Glorfindel along. "OUT! NOW!" I yelled.

            Glorfindel did a very quick double-take and ran out of my tent so quickly his usual grace seemed to have been compromised in favour of the extra speed that would get him out of the path of my wrath.

            "Can't people just leave me alone when I'm sleeping?" I asked exasperatedly to Berialagor and Sadoriel, both who looked like they were trying to pick between being shocked and amused.

            It was Sadoriel who first found her voice, strangled though it was. "My Lady…did my Lord King Gil-galad really bethink you those things?"

            I stared blankly at her, forgetting for a moment that my handmaiden knew nothing of how dirty her king's mind actually was. Whoops. Big boo-boo there.

            "No," I said waving it off what I hoped was casually. "Of course not. But it sure made an impression on Glorfindel, didn't it?"

            Sadoriel nodded slowly, dubiously accepting what I had said. Berialagor didn't looked the slightest bit convinced, as evident by the troubled look on her face.

            "Now, I'm sorry to end the conversation here," not really, I wasn't, "but I'd rather like to finish my nap."

            My fortune that day held its gleefully steady stream of bad luck. I was woken up only a couple of hours later by Berialagor.

            Groggily and more than a little bit irritable, I woke up.

            "He's taking a leak, my Lord." I heard Thangail explain to someone outside.

            "Very well. Now will you move aside? I wish to see my Anórmír before dinner." Ereinion sighed.

            Damnit, I just want to be left alone to sleep! By now I was wide awake, and aware of a breeze coming into the tent from behind me.

            "She's currently sleeping, my Lord," Thangail informed my love. "She gave orders that no one was to disturb her. Apparently she had a sleepless night. Though no doubt this was due to her ordeal over the past few days." Yeah, keeping a randy Elvenking at bay.

            I looked back at the back of my tent which now had an opening in which Rúmion stood, gesturing for me to be silent and come. I stood up with Berialagor's help and Sadoriel threw a cloak around my shoulders and pulled the hood up before I stepped out.

            Rúmion led me to the back of the next tent, in which he 'created' another door (using his sword) and led me through that tent until we came to a pathway from which we could travel further away from my tent without Ereinion being any the wiser (we hoped. Or at least that was the general idea).

            Sadly, I missed the rest of Thangail's stalling. If I had not been annoyed with Ereinion for his naughty thoughts and keeping me awake all night, I might have been more obliging towards my Elf-love and gone out to him instead; however, I was not in a charitable mood and though it meant being awakened hastily and in the midst of the first real deep sleep I'd had in the last 36 hours, I was quite content to go along with whatever scheme my guards had come up with to keep Ereinion's hot hands off me.

            I didn't know which way we were going, as I kept my head down and let Berialagor's grip on my arm guide me towards this new destination. Or maybe it wasn't a destination at all, just that we were leading Ereinion on a merry dance. Both satisfied my irritation with my husband-to-be, though the former would be much more welcome if I could just lie down and rest.

            Eventually we stopped and I risked a glance from beneath my hood. We were at a tent that had two guards at the door. The guard had looked about ready to say something in confusion to Rúmion but upon seeing me, he changed his mind and immediately opened the tent flap and ushered us in hastily.

            Berialagor and I waited in the antechamber of the tent whilst Rúmion moved the tentflap leading to the inner sanctum and spoke respectfully in Elvish.

            Círdan appeared from within, a smile on his ancient features. "Lady Anórmír."

            I inclined my head as gracefully as I could manage. Círdan held the 'door' open in a gesture for Berialagor and me to enter.

            Círdan gestured to the blankets on the floor- his own bed, I surmised as my sleep-deprived mind came to a foggy conclusion that this was Lord Círdan private tent. "You may sleep there, my Lady. I have been informed of the situation. Have no fear- you will not be interrupted again."

            "Thank you," I sighed in relief. I don't remember lying down, nor closing my eyes, but I know that weariness refused to leave me until I woke again the next morning.

            My first conscious realisation was that I could smell food. Hot food. It smelled wonderful. And was that a bath I could hearing being prepared? A shifting of papers- maps, I guessed as my mind became more awake.

            I opened my eyes, reluctantly at first, and blinked until my eyes cleared. I couldn't help smiling. I felt so much better than yesterday.

            "Quietly, Sadoriel," Círdan said softly. "We do not want to awaken the maiden just yet."

            "Too late," Berialagor said from behind me. I glanced back at her with a smile which she returned. "I hope you are much improved, my Lady?"

            "Oh, most definitely," I said, pushing aside the blankets so that I could stand. Thankfully I still wore the cloak that kept my rather indecent nightie from view. Remembering my manners, I continued. "My Lord Círdan, I would like to thank you-"

            Círdan held up his hand to stop me. "It was done in the best interests of all, Lady Anórmír. Now I hope you will excuse me, I have several training sessions I must oversee, not to mention making sure the tents to which Rúmion so kindly added another entrance are fixed and face down an Elvenking whom I imagine is quite irate with me."

            "If Ereinion does start to get mad at you, tell him I said 'Fair's fair' and that he better play nicely from now on."

            Círdan laughed. "I shall pass on the message, my Lady. I know the High King is eager to have you at his side and I have never seen him so impatient about something before. I understand that he and Elrond have finished selecting your guards. Elrond will be by after your bath and breakfast to take you to meet them and see them perform. He also wanted me to pass on the message that he believes your sister is doing a lot better and might awaken sometime today."

            "Thank you," I smiled. Círdan smiled in return and left.

            "Bath or breakfast first, my Lady?" Berialagor enquired as Sadoriel put the large kettle aside.

            "Can't I have both at once?" I pleaded, discarding the cloak with an eagerness to lounge in that hot water. I didn't ask how the bath had come to be in Círdan's tent; as I have mentioned once before- in war, you don't question life's small luxuries.