"By nightfall tomorrow we will reach Lorien and you shall have your audience with Lady Galadriel," Haldir said. Ciendriel saw the excitement of being back in his homeland shining in Haldir's eyes, changing his normal stony or sarcastic expression to one that was almost pleasant.

She had spoken little to Haldir during these two days, though once she and Legolas had begun to feel better, they had gotten back to their late night chats. Still, she had not tried to seduce him in any way, neither had he tried to touch her. The residue of the green pipe weed was not conducive to romantic moods.

Legolas had tried yesterday to take leadership of the journey back from Haldir, but Haldir had simply shaken his head.

"You're ill, Legolas. Don't push yourself."

Legolas had fumed bitterly to her about it later, but he hadn't insisted, because he truly was still feeling poorly. She knew he felt helpless, and that feeling helpless to Haldir was worse for him than anything else.

The nights had been sweet. They held each other like children, letting Haldir patrol their camp sites, as his brothers, too, were still ill. He had set Gimli, Sam and Frodo up to do watches so the rest of the Elves could rest. He was a born leader, Ciendriel thought. If only he wasn't such a jerk.

Although honestly, he had spent his energy on getting them to Lothlorien rather than attempting to get into her (or Legolas') leggings for the past two days. For that she was grateful. It occurred to her, as she and Legolas kept pace behind him, that Haldir was lonely.

She shook her head. Could she be developing a soft spot for the Marchwarden? No, this must not be allowed. She looked at Legolas. He was the one she wanted. They had simply had bad luck so far. Maybe that would change when they left Lothlorien and Haldir far behind.

"I know what you're thinking," Legolas said softly to her in Elvish as they cuddled together that night by the fire. She had been gazing across it at Haldir, who as usual had taken a place far back, to himself, while everybody ate their dinner. "I see it in your eyes, and it makes me sad."

Ciendriel felt her cheeks heat. "What are you speaking of, Legolas?"

"You are falling in love with Haldir."

"Don't be silly."

"I see the way you watch him. My weakness has cost me my chance with you…" he said softly. His blue eyes looked wounded.

"No…Legolas, no."

"I understand. I too, have loved him. But I fear he will break your heart. Haldir does not love, Ciendriel."

"Legolas," she said firmly. He was looking down at his hands, so she took them in her own. "Legolas, this must be a side effect of the pipe weed, these thoughts of yours. I can't possibly be in love with Haldir."

"No?"

"No…because I am in love with you."

His eyes widened. She hadn't meant to say it, not now, not here, like this. In any event she had thought it rather self-evident, but maybe males weren't able to see the signs of love as easily as females could. She waited for Legolas to return her words, but he simply sat there for a long moment, looking surprised.

"Are you sure?" he asked finally.

"Yes."

"Oh," he sighed, seeming relieved. "Good."

Good? She frowned. Was that all he had to say? Good? She waited for him to go on, but he simply leaned against her more heavily. She put her arms around him, and realized he had fallen asleep. Bitterness bubbled inside her, even though having him in her embrace felt so good, so right.

She gazed across the campfire towards where Haldir had been sitting, but he was gone.

***

The sun was setting as they reached the outskirts of Lothlorien. Ahead, Angelica could hear singing, soft and ethereal. Haldir had a spring in his step that was almost comical, and Orophin and Rúmil were chattering away as if they had never been ill. Gimli had polished his helmet last night and it gleamed. His beard was freshly braided, and Angelica kept catching him rehearsing what he was going to say to Galadriel. Frodo and Sam were also excited, and Merry and Pippin had spent hours describing the Elven city to her.

Ciendriel and Legolas were the most subdued of the lot of them, Angelica noted. They walked together slowly, leading all of the horses, saying little, their expressions inscrutable. She wondered what was going on with them, but she dared not ask. Had she the opportunity to speak with Ciendriel alone, she might have inquired.

A party of Elves greeted them at the edge of Lorien. They greeted Haldir and his brothers enthusiastically. Although Angelica could not understand what they were saying, it was clear that they were the border patrol and they were going to escort them to Lady Galadriel. The Elves extended their greetings to Legolas and Ciendriel, then Haldir turned to address the Hobbits and Gimli.

“Lady Galadriel and Lord Celeborn send their welcome to you, Frodo Baggins and friends. You may rest in the comfort of Lorien for as long as you desire.”

“Thank you,” Frodo said, smiling at Haldir.

“Come, they are expecting us now.”

Haldir led them through trees that seemed to grow progressively more silver, and as the sun set completely and the moon rose, millions of tiny lights came twinkling to life in the trees. Angelica looked up as she watched, clutching Pippin’s hand. She became aware that the city was above, in the trees, and the thought made her breathless. Haldir led them to a winding stair, and up, up, up it.

Soon they reached a great chamber that seemed made of silver and light, perched high in the trees. Angelica was out of breath; it had been a high climb. It irked her slightly that the Elves seemed not the bit winded. Still, she was quickly distracted by the beauty of the whole place. Everyone had fallen respectfully silent as they entered the waiting room of the rulers of Lothlorien.

Soon, from down yet another set of stairs came Lady Galadriel and Lord Celeborn. They were both dressed in flowing robes of white highlighted with silver, and were possibly the most beautiful beings Angelica had ever laid eyes on. Gimli had respectfully taken off his helmet, and he dropped it with a clatter as the pair descended. It rolled away from him to land at Galadriel’s feet. She laughed, like bells chiming in a warm breeze, then let go of Celeborn’s hand to pick up the helmet and return it the Dwarf who was, if Angelica could see properly behind all of his hair, blushing.

“Welcome, Gimli, Son of Gloin. It is good to have you here within our halls once more.”

Angelica watched as Gimli’s prepared speech went out the window and he merely stammered his thanks. Galadriel nodded to him as she moved down the line to greet each of them. Celeborn stood at the foot of the stairs, watching with regal regard.

“Frodo Baggins. I am glad to meet you under more pleasant circumstances. Samwise Gamgee -- always faithful to your Frodo. Loyalty is valued greatly among Elves, and so are you. Meriadoc and Perregrin. I trust you will stay out of trouble whilst in my domain.” Galadriel smiled, and Angelica saw the two of them look nervously away and shift from foot to foot. What had they gotten up to last time they were in Lothlorien?

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Of course, ma’am.”

Galadriel nodded and moved on to Angelica. Angelica wasn’t sure if she should drop her eyes or curtsy or something. She couldn’t bring herself to look away from Galadriel. She was just so beautiful. She was reminded of the first Elf she had ever seen (which unfortunately had been Haldir) and how she had felt when confronted by that ethereal charm.

“Angelica Headstrong. I have been eager to meet you. The winds have oft whispered your name to me of late. We will take private council together tomorrow at sunset, if you find this agreeable.”

Angelica was shocked. She nodded numbly. Galadriel knew of her, and wanted to speak with her? She couldn’t imagine how this had come about, but the ways of the Elves had always been mysterious to her. Galadriel moved on.

“Legolas, Prince of Mirkwood.”

Legolas bowed his head. “My lady Galadriel.”

“You are looking fair, as always, though the taint of the green weed still clings to your features. I will prepare a tea for all of you that will chase away the remnants of this.” Galadriel bent and kissed Legolas on the cheek. Angelica thought she saw something flare in Ciendriel’s eyes, a hint of jealousy, but Galadriel quickly moved on, smiling at her generously.

“Ciendriel of Ingra. Your mother is much beloved of me, as are you. We have a great deal to speak of.” Galadriel put Ciendriel’s arm through her own, as if they were sisters and began to draw her away, to the stairs from which she had descended. Ciendriel went with her as if in a daze. They passed Haldir and his brothers, and Galadriel greeted them while leading the princess away. “My handsome Marchwarden, I am glad you have come home at last. Rúmil, Orophin -- my Lord Celeborn invites you to attend upon him this evening.”

Haldir’s brothers went directly to Celeborn, bowing slightly in the same way that Legolas had bowed to Galadriel, and without a word the lord turned and led them up the stairs to the left. Galadriel took Ciendriel up to the right.

“Are we dismissed?” Pippin whispered.

“I’m not sure,” Merry whispered back.

“Come, I will take you to a place where you can rest,” Haldir said.

“Have we got to go back down all those bloody stairs?” Pippin moaned.

Haldir ignored him and slipped up beside Legolas. He put an arm around the Prince of Mirkwood. “It will be many hours before Ciendriel leaves the rooms of Galadriel. Walk with me in the wood, as we used to do, Legolas.”

“Just show us to the resting place,” Legolas said, but to Angelica his voice sounded small.

“Did you see?” Gimli said to Frodo. “She picked up my helmet. Never has there been a lady as great as the Lady Galadriel, nor an Elf so fair.”

“Not even Legolas?” Frodo teased.

“Well, quite possibly except for Legolas.”

Haldir laughed and Legolas caught him in the ribs with his elbow.

“What have they got to eat around here?” Pippin asked.

And so began the trek back down the stairs.

***

Ciendriel silently accompanied Galadriel up the stairs into a room which was clearly her boudoir. It was laid with a soft white bed, surrounded by filmy white curtains that made a sort of tent of it, beautiful and inviting. A small table rested in one corner, as well as a large basin accompanied by a silver pitcher.

“Sit, my dear.”

Ciendriel sat on the bed, as there was nowhere else to do so, shifting the curtains aside. Galadriel turned to the pitcher and the table and poured her a small cup of water, then began to mix several different herbs into it.

“I am very glad that you have come to me at the command of Morgone. She has bid me discuss something very intimate with you, a wish of hers that she would see fulfilled,” Galadriel said while mixing the brew.

“My mother knows she may count on me to do whatever she wishes.”

“She tells me you have ever been the obedient daughter, and yet, she fears you will fail her in this.” Her voice was calming, but Ciendriel frowned.

“I will not--”

Galadriel turned around, holding the tea cup. “Do not speak hastily child.”

“Forgive me, Lady Galadriel.” Ciendriel blushed.

Galadriel continued to smile calmly. Her poise was unnerving to Ciendriel, but she realized that this Elf was thousands of years her senior, and very wise as well as beautiful. She was, in fact, the most beautiful female Ciendriel had ever seen. It was hard to keep her stare respectful.

“This business can wait a few more moments. Here, you must drink this. I will have some sent to Legolas. Surely he is suffering as you are.”

Ciendriel accepted the tea gratefully and swallowed it straight down. “Yes, Legolas has been very ill. I hate for him to suffer. And Rúmil and Orophin as well.”

“Lord Celeborn will see to them, I do not doubt.” Galadriel took the cup away when Ciendriel had emptied it then joined her on the bed, taking Ciendriel’s hands in her own. “I have missed Morgone greatly. You are such a reflection of her.”

Ciendriel smiled, suddenly missing her mother very much. “Thank you, Lady Galadriel.”

“Simply Galadriel to you,” she replied, then she bent and brought her mouth to Ciendriel’s.

Ciendriel sighed as Galadriel kissed her. It seemed so natural. This was what she was used to. At home she had no male lovers, and being in the perfumed arms of a female was soothing. She let her lips part, let Galadriel explore her mouth. It seemed no violation, the way Haldir’s kisses did. And yet it seemed no great passion, the way Legolas’ kisses did. There was simply a honeyed sweetness and a slow burning of desire sparking deep inside the core of her.

Ciendriel lay back upon the bed, and knew it would be many hours before Galadriel told her what her mother wished of her.