Ciendriel felt a flash of fear as she opened her eyes. She did not know where she was, though her first impression was that it was dark, and that someone was lying beside her. Next, the attack of the spiders came rushing back, like a nightmare flashing before her eyes. And…and…

"Legolas!" she cried out, sitting straight up. Legolas was dead, and it was her fault, and she had tried to poison herself, to die with him. Apparently she had failed. She was alive, and awake, and frightened, but not alone.

Whoever was lying beside her sat up as well as she cried out, and when he put his arms around her, she knew from the gentle, familiar scent of him that it was Haldir. He murmured soothingly into her ear, and she melted into his embrace. Tears poured from her eyes. She could not stop them. They slid down her nose onto his bare shoulder. Was he naked? No, he still had on his leggings, and she was still fully dressed in her own leggings and tunic.

She still did not know where she was or why he was with her, but she had not the strength to push him away when she so badly needed comfort, and he was offering it. Despite his gruff manner and all of the rotten things he had done, he had cared for Legolas, too, she knew.

"Shh, the spiders are all gone," he murmured, his voice buzzing against her pointed ear, sending a shiver through her.

"Were you sleeping?"

"No. Well, perhaps a little. I was resting," Haldir admitted. "I did not want to leave you alone."

"Thank you," she whispered.

Haldir was silent for a very long moment before he replied, "You're welcome."

"Where are we?"

"In Mirkwood, at the palace of Thranduil."

"Legolas' father," she acknowledged sadly.

"Yes. You are still weak, Princess. You should lie back down, and rest while you may."

"I feel…fine." She clung to him still. She ran her hands over the smooth flesh of Haldir's back, the curved her nails, dragging them against his skin. She heard him catch his breath, and this pleased her, even though she was not quite sure why she was doing such a thing, except that she could.

"I think you do not feel fine. Lie back down."

He slid his hands down to her waist, sliding up her tunic so he could rest them on her bare flesh. It felt good. His hands were warm, and she felt so cold. Elves normally did not feel cold, so the feeling amazed her, and she knew the coldness sprang from her heart -- or perhaps from the poison which no doubt still tainted her body. She lay back down as he commanded, but she drew him down with her, so he lay half on top of her.

She could barely make out the planes of his face in the darkness, the sparkle of his eye and the sharp angle of his nose. She saw his tongue dart out to lick his full lips. His hair was still neatly braided, but it was tousled from sleep, and hung in a golden curtain around his shoulders. Ciendriel arched up and kissed his mouth. He kissed her back, but she could taste his surprise. He did not try to take control, to sear her against the mattress as she expected. She was disappointed.

"What are you doing?" he asked her when she pulled back.

"Hold me, please, Haldir."

"I have not let go of you. In fact, I have been waiting for your command to leave." He sounded amused.

"No!" she cried, genuinely frightened. "Do not leave! I do not wish to be alone."

"I did not say I would obey that command, only that I was waiting for it."

She relaxed, prickled slightly by his amusement, but still keeping her arms around him. "Are you not angry with me?"

"Why would I be, Princess?"

"It's my fault that Legolas--" her tears cut her off. She choked up and began to sob again. Haldir cradled her tenderly.

"What happened to Legolas is not your fault. Do not cry, Ciendriel," he said softly.

Hearing her name spoken so tenderly made her heart lurch in her chest. It meant everything that he did not blame her for the death of the Prince of Mirkwood. For that alone she would marry Haldir if her mother still commanded it. She wondered briefly if Morgone was here, in Mirkwood, but Ciendriel was not in a hurry to face her, and she certainly did not know how she would ever be able to look Thranduil in the eye. She needed comfort, and Haldir was here. She needed him.

"Please kiss me, Haldir."

This was a command he did not refuse. The Marchwarden brought his mouth down ruthlessly upon hers. Yes, these were the kisses she remembered of him, merciless and hungry. He gathered her even closer as she opened her mouth for the invasion of his tongue. She battled back at him, now scraping his back with her nails. When he pulled back from the kiss to gasp for breath, she seized his head and jerked it down to her mouth so she could lick at his pointed ear, swiping up the length with her tongue before sinking her teeth into the tip.

Haldir groaned, then laughed softly, moving his hips so she felt his arousal against her thighs. "Do you know what you are inviting?"

"Help me forget," she told him.

He sat back so that he could strip off her tunic, immediately taking her breasts into his big hands with their perfectly manicured nails, which he dragged over her nipples with calculation. Slowly he toyed with them, pinching and rolling them between his fingers until she was writhing wildly beneath him. When she thought she could stand no more he brought his mouth to her flesh, his wet tongue circling the aching peaks one by one as he sought to pull off her leggings.

Ciendriel lifted up, pushing her nipple further into his mouth and letting him have ease in undressing her. He slid off his own leggings as well, as she felt his bare, warm flesh against her. It felt so good, and yet tears came to her eyes as she recalled the last time she had lain with Legolas. To think that she would never love him again, never hear his voice telling her that he loved her was nearly intolerable.

"Why, why did I not die from the poison?" she whispered even as Haldir moved between her legs and prepared to slip inside her slick passage.

"You will never die, Princess. I will never let you die," Haldir said roughly. "I will show you how it feels to be alive."

He pierced her to the very quick, it seemed. She cried out as he filled her and wrapped her legs around him. He ground her into the mattress of the bed, his hips thrusting mercilessly, driving her towards pleasure. How quickly she found it, crying out with it. Her face was wet with tears, some for Legolas, some for the unquestionable reminder that she was alive, truly alive.

Haldir hissed her name and she felt him shudder as he took his own release. His big body collapsed on top of hers, and she wound her arms around him as his breathing slowed back to normal.

"Haldir--" she said.

"Shh," he quieted her. "Don't say anything, Princess. Not yet."

***

"You are no elf," Angelica said boldly to the strange Man sitting in Thranduil's library. This made him laugh, and the laugh made her like him.

"This has been said of me before," he acknowledged. "Yet I have ever been friend to Elves and Hobbits alike, and have never found myself unwelcome in their lands. Were you looking for an Elf?"

"Legolas, the son of Thranduil was injured in a battle with spiders three days ago. I was hoping to find out if he was any better."

"Elrond of Rivendell is looking after him. No Elf knows more about medicine than he does. I believe that Legolas will survive."

"But Elrond is in a meeting down the hall with Morgone and Thranduil!" Angelica said, then she clapped her hand over her mouth. The stranger just looked more amused.

"Hobbits never can break their habit of listening at doorways, can they?" he said, and although she blushed, she did not feel that he was trying to make her feel ashamed.

"I really was just trying to find Legolas…and Ciendriel," she told him, setting her hands on her hips.

"Be at peace, Angelica. Elrond would not leave Legolas alone if he needed care… as for the Princess of Ingra, I have not met her yet, but she is under the care of Haldir, her betrothed."

"She has no desire to marry Haldir," Angelica said scornfully. "It is Legolas she loves, and he loves her."

"You seem so certain of that fact," the Man said, setting down his book and leaning slightly forward. Angelica knew he was taking the measure of her, so she stared back at him. He was dressed in an Elven outfit, an embroidered tunic and leggings. He had longish dark hair and the scruff of an unkempt beard, as if shaving did not interest him much.

"I have been traveling with them for several weeks, and they are my friends."

"And Haldir?"

"He is not my friend."

The Man laughed. "And I thought he might have mellowed from the attention of the Princess."

"Perhaps he would have had she paid him any attention," Angelica said, shifting from foot to foot, "But as I told you, sir, she loves Legolas."

"Are you an expert in the ways of love?" he asked, smiling. She did not feel he was mocking her, in fact, she was enjoying this exchange of words with the stranger, so Angelica replied.

"I fear I am far from expert. I am faced with the dilemma of telling four suitors that I cannot have them, and settling for one."

"Some women would call you lucky."

"Not when I love them all."

"Do you, really?"

"Well… in different ways." Angelica sat down on the floor, ready to tell him the long and complicated tale of everything that had happened to her since the afternoon she had woken up without her memory in Merry and Pippin's bed.

The Man jumped to his feet immediately, pulled up a chair for her, then bade her go on, which she did, for some time. He listened without comment, but she never felt that he had stopped listening, either. When she got to the end of the story, about how she was supposed to tell her choice to this King Aragorn, who she was deathly afraid of meeting, she found that the Man was smiling.

"Have you made your choice, then?" he asked her.

"As I told you, I can't do that, not for certain at least, until I tell Pippin the truth," she said.

"Then stay here, and I'll get him for you. If I'm not mistaken, everyone else should be in the main hall gathering for dinner."

"Do you know him?" Angelica asked, surprised.

"Yes. I too have called him friend."

"Pip won't like having his dinner interrupted," Angelica said nervously, remembering that she had never asked this Man his name.

"I think he'll forgive you," he said confidently.

"Who are you?" Angelica blurted out.

"I am known as Elessar… but my friends call me Aragorn."

"Ah! Why didn't you tell me in the first place?"

"Why didn't you ask me in the first place?"

Angelica glared at him. "I suppose you have a point, but you don't look like a king. Oh, very well, I like you well enough and this will save me from having to explain the whole story twice, though if I'd known you were the King I might have left out some of the more sordid details."

"In that case, I'm very glad I did not tell you," Aragorn said, rising. "I'll send Pippin to you."

"Wait!"

He sat back down. "Yes?"

"Am I not supposed to report my decision to you?"

"I suppose you are. But it is your decision to make, Angelica. I will merely only give a permission for your marriage that is no more than a formality. After all, what has the King of Men truly to do with the affairs of Hobbits? I would not dream of swaying your choice in any particular direction."

"So you won't…force whoever I pick into marrying me. Because you see, I could not bear it. Even if I pick him, he has to pick me, too."

"I understand, more than you realize. I was lucky to have the bride I chose for myself, and who chose me. You see, her father is Lord Elrond."

Angelica was a little bit surprised. "You married an Elf?"

Aragorn nodded, smiling.

"It is said that you will be the one to decide whether Ciendriel can be with Legolas…" Angelica added, looking at him hopefully. "Like me, will you leave them to make their own choices?"

Aragorn stopped smiling, looking slightly sad. "Their case is more complicated. The Elves seek my blessing on the wedding of Princess Ciendriel, and I will give it, and my opinion -- but that choice must be made by their own council. Legolas can be impetuous when it comes to the ways of the heart…" Aragorn smiled, as if remembering something.

"You have to convince them to let them be together!" Angelica pleaded with him.

"I will do what I can. You have my word," he said, then finally rose to his feet. "Wait here, Angelica. I'll send Pippin in."

The King got up and squeezed her shoulder lightly, then left the room, leaving Angelica to her own thoughts, waiting for Peregrin Took.