“Are you jealous, Sam?” said Frodo Baggins as Angelica disappeared into the gardens with Gimli. He watched Sam’s face turn a hot magenta.

“I am not. I’m just saying she should be more...discerning, is all.”

“Love means different things to different people, Sam,” Frodo said.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It means that Angelica is a free spirit.” Frodo didn’t know exactly to explain his thoughts about the whole thing to Sam. Besides, he was having an overwhelming desire to sneak into the gardens and watch them, and fighting this urge was a losing battle. “Besides, who do you disapprove of? Gimli? Merry and Pippin? Or--”

“I just think she ought to make a choice of who she wants to love,” Sam said. “Even if... even if...”

“Even if what?”

“Even if it’s not me. All this carrying on is...unseemly. Who does she think she is, an Elf?”

“I didn’t know you were such a prude, Sam,” Frodo said, laughing. Sam turned even more scarlet. But deep inside, Sam’s words saddened Frodo. After all, Angelica had revealed her secrets to him, and Frodo knew that this was why she had been forced to leave her village -- for being a little Hobbit Trollop. Her free sexuality didn’t bother Frodo at all. He wished he could be as daring as she was, but really, his experiences were very limited.

“I’m going to check on Merry and Pippin. Are you coming?” Sam asked, stalking off.

“Right behind you,” said Frodo, but instead he turned around and went back down the stairs into the gardens. Stealthily he snuck through a bed of lilies until he found Angelica’s dress. Frodo picked it up and held it for a moment. It smelled of her...delicate and wild. It made his mouth water. Frodo sighed. It was easy to find her and Gimli from there. They were not exactly quiet.

“Oh, yes, that’s it, lass! By thunder, you’re a hot one!”

Angelica whispered the Dwarf’s name, panting, her breathing quick and loud. Frodo pushed the lilies apart so he could see. He felt his cheeks sting as he saw his beloved Gimli laboring over the pretty Hobbit girl. He was only a little jealous, which was odd, because ofttimes he felt a near hatred for Legolas when Gimli got drunk and raved about him. More than jealous, now, he was excited. He liked watching the two of them shamelessly enjoying each other. It stirred him.

Frodo tried to understand as he watched, why he felt this way...but after a few minutes he really couldn’t think any more. He was too busy trying not to breathe noisily, and hoping that Angelica and Gimli wouldn’t heart his heartbeat. Of course, they were far too preoccupied.

He wondered if he ought to simply be bold with Gimli -- to ask for what he wanted. He wasn’t sure he knew how to do this, but if he didn’t, he would never get what he wanted... and he wanted Angelica. Wait, no, Gimli! He wanted Gimli, didn’t he?

Frodo shook his head. This wasn’t the time for thinking...

***

Elrond looked around at the assorted company seated at his dining table. He wanted to make sure that sending Haldir and his brothers off with Legolas and company was not going to be a disaster for which he might eventually be held responsible. It was bad enough that Haldir had violated two of them last night, and from the way Angelica Headstrong often looked up to glare at him, he had done something to offend the female Hobbit as well.

Haldir seemed completely relaxed, if slightly smug. Elrond had seated him between himself and Gimli, who split his attention between Legolas and Angelica, who were across from them. Rúmil and Orophin chatted with Ciendriel, who was to Legolas’ right, and the rest of the Hobbits were around the other end of the table.

Ciendriel and Legolas had spent the afternoon in the kitchen. Ciendriel had asked permission to use Elrond’s ovens to bake more lembas bread for their journey, which he had granted her with amusement. He wished Arwen would learn to cook, but he might as well ask her to learn to fly as to cook. Elrond knew that Legolas had stayed in the kitchen with Ciendriel as she worked, and he supposed that Haldir had not bothered them there.

Ciendriel had accepted everything that happened with a calm that reminded Elrond of her mother. He was possessed with a desire to see Morgone again. Perhaps soon he could undertake the journey.

Angelica Headstrong was a mystery to Elrond. He had heard some of her story from Haldir and some from Frodo. He knew Haldir had left great holes in the story he had told, and Frodo seemed to know more about her than he let on to Elrond as well, but the king didn’t pry with either of them. She seemed to be well-liked among the company.

Elrond looked across the table at Legolas Greenleaf. The Prince of Mirkwood held an apparent poise and calm, but Elrond could see darker emotions flit through his eyes when he looked at Haldir. This was where Elrond’s worry lay. Yet all he could do was take care of tonight. When the dinner broke up and the company departed to their respective bedchambers, Elrond called to Haldir to wait.

“Will you not spend this night giving your king a proper farewell?” he asked, looking into the blond Elf’s eyes with hunger.

Haldir smiled lazily. “Did you miss me last night? Or are you simply trying to protect your guests from the big, bad Marchwarden?”

“You are arrogant.”

“That’s old news.”

“Indeed. No, Haldir. I want you, yes. And I will miss you, in some ways. But if I receive word from Lady Galadriel that any of the company arrives at her door damaged, you will no longer be welcome in Rivendell. Do you understand me?”

Haldir lowered his eyes, but could not entirely keep the smirk off of his face. “Yes, my lord.”

“Thank you.”

Haldir looked up at him through lowered lashes. “Shall we to bed, then?”

Elrond nodded, stirring already. He turned and headed for his chamber, knowing Haldir would follow.

“Do tell me, my Lord Elrond,” Haldir said from behind him in a pleasant tone. “Were my brothers not to your liking?”

***

Angelica lay between Merry and Pippin that night in the large bed in the chamber given to the Hobbits and Gimli. Gimli, Frodo and Sam slept on cushions by the fireplace. As she tried to fall asleep, Angelica thought about everything that had passed during their short stay in Rivendell. Gimli at least had not rejected her after their encounter. In fact, he’d asked her to come out to the gardens with him again after dinner, but she had told him she was too tired, especially since they would be leaving Rivendell early in the morning.

It hurt her that Sam was pointedly ignoring her now. She respected him a lot. In fact, she wondered if she could have loved him, if he hadn’t...given up on her... so quickly. It occurred to her that he thought she had made love with Frodo in the garden right after she had been with Sam -- after all, she and Frodo had stayed outside talking for most of last night. And she had been with Frodo the night before they reached Rivendell.

Merry and Pippin didn’t care, why should Sam? Who was he to be jealous, and then not make any attempt to ask her what had happened?

Angelica felt tears gathering behind her eyes. She slipped out of the bed, careful not to wake Merry and Pippin. Pippin simply rolled over with a snore and Merry put his arms around him. She went out to the terrace and sat at the top of the garden stairs, burying her face in her hands as she wept.

Someone put their arm around her, and she jumped, nearly screaming. Frodo looked at her with wide blue eyes.

“I didn’t mean to startle you.”

“Oh...Frodo.” Angelica threw her arms around him and wept onto his shoulder. Frodo said nothing, but he held her tightly and rubbed her back until the tears no longer came. He didn’t ask her what was wrong. Finally she choked out one word. “Sam...”

“Sam just doesn’t understand. I’m sorry,” said Frodo softly.

“Why don’t you hate me, too?” Angelica whispered.

“How could I?”

“Sam--”

“Sam doesn’t hate you. I promise.”

Somehow she felt that if Frodo could say such a thing, then it must be true. Still she sobbed.

“Don’t-- don’t cry, Miss Angelica.”

She looked up to see Sam standing over them. Slowly she let go of Frodo. Sam looked distressed and embarrassed.

“Sam...”

“I don’t hate you. Truly, I don’t. It’s just....it’s just...”

Frodo kissed Angelica on the cheek and stood up. “I’m going back to bed,” he said, and disappeared without another word. She wished he wouldn’t go. She didn’t know what to say to Sam. She looked down at her knees. Finally Sam sat down beside her and took her hands in his. She turned her head to look into his eyes.

“I never meant to make you think I hated you. Truly, I like you a whole lot. Maybe more than I should.”

“I told you it was just a dream, Sam,” Angelica whispered, waiting for him to reject her again, but he kept holding on to her hands. “I can’t change the way I am.”

“I won’t ask you to. I want to be your friend, and that means accepting you just how you are. I can do that,” Sam swore.

Angelica wanted to believe him, more than anything.

***

After dinner, Ciendriel and Legolas went back to the beautiful chamber that had first held so much potential for them when Elrond had given it to them. Ciendriel half expected to find Haldir waiting for them in her bed, but there was only a peaceful room, lovely in the starlight that streamed through the window.

She looked at Legolas. The stiff expression he had worn through dinner faded away and left him looking tired and vulnerable. Holding his hand in her own, she pressed her lips to his cheek. He put his arms around her loosely and looked into her eyes, then moved his mouth to hers. The kiss was soft at first, but then became deep and intense.

On and on their mouths danced together. Ciendriel moaned deep in her throat. Desire flooded her. Legolas slowly moved her back towards the bed. Her heart began to pound like the hooves of wild horses thundering across a meadow. He let go of her and took a step back. She swept the dress over her head and off, standing nude before him.

It was worth it to see his expression. His lips parted and he licked at them, his blue eyes big and round. Then he grinned. She flung herself into his arms. He caught her, but he cried out as if in pain. Immediately Ciendriel jumped back from him.

“What is it?”

“I’m sorry!”

“Did I hurt you?”

Legolas grimaced, then slowly drew off his tunic. Ciendriel gasped as she saw the bruises on his chest that looked sore and tender. In a low voice she cursed Haldir. Legolas sat down slowly on the edge of the bed, but his movements were those of an old man.

“I’m afraid I’m still a little sore.”

“I have just the thing for it,” Ciendriel replied practically. She went to her pack and drew forth a small salve. It was useful for curing soreness from extended horseback riding, and though she rarely needed it herself, she generally carried a small amount with her. Slowly she began to apply it to the tender spots on his ribs, back and shoulders. She could see the print of Haldir’s fingers where he had gripped Legolas, and it made her curse him again.

“Why did he do this to you?” she whispered as Legolas shivered beneath the touch of her cool fingers.

“Because he could,” Legolas said sadly, looking down.

“I will not let this happen again.”

This made him smile wistfully. “And I thought to be the one protecting you.”

“Mayhap we can protect each other.” She sat down next to him and he bent to kiss her again. It was delicious and sweet, but she pulled back. “If you rest, the bruises will be healed by morning.”

“I don’t wish to rest,” Legolas said. “I wish to make love to you.”

Ciendriel bit her lip. She wanted him, too, more than anything she had ever wanted...but still she got up and put on her dress. Lovemaking could wait another night, until it would not pain him, even if it meant sneaking off from the rest of the travelers to be alone.

“Rest,” she said firmly. She pressed Legolas down into the bed and covered him with the blanket, then lay beside him until sunlight replaced starlight shining through their window.