There was no place to hide in Lady Galadriel's ante-chamber, and for this Samwise Gamgee was mightily sorry. He was not quite sure why he had followed Angelica to her meeting with Galadriel in the first place, except that he had something he wanted to show her, and now he had overheard quite a lot of things which he wished he hadn't.

He should have learned a lesson about eavesdropping from Gandalf long ago, and in fact, that was the first thing which had sprung to mind when he immediately bumped into Haldir's brothers, Rúmil and Orophin, in the ante-chamber. Sam's Elvish wasn't very good, and it was worse when he was nervous, so he had stood there stuttering for a moment, trying to think of an Elvish phrase besides ‘stinking rose weed.’

Orophin had put a friendly (Sam hoped) hand on his shoulder and smiled at him. He indicated the right side of the staircase, up which Angelica had disappeared. "Galadriel." Then he pointed to the left side of the staircase. "Celeborn."

"Th-thanks," said Sam. Orophin said something to Rúmil in Elvish and they both laughed. Orophin winked at him and they left down the main stairs. Sam breathed a sigh of relief and sagged against the wall for a moment, then had crept up Galadriel's stairs to listen in on the conversation taking place in her rooms.

Sam wasn't sure which part of the conversation had affected him the most. Galadriel's words to Angelica about how he felt about her were completely true. It seemed unfair, somehow, that just as Sam was able to convince himself that he could share her in order to have whatever affection she might be able to give him, that she was going to have to choose between them. How could he ever compete with his friends, as badly as he wanted her?

Sam did agree with Galadriel. After all, had he not told Frodo not so very long ago that he thought Angelica should choose just one lover? Still, now that she had agreed to do so, he was conflicted. When he looked at her, there was no other Hobbit lass in the world to him, and she was so sweet to him, so kind to him, so generous to him.

Rosie Cotton of Hobbiton flitted briefly through Sam's mind. Before he had met Angelica, Sam had wanted nothing more than to marry her, settle down, and have thirteen children. Sam had always been scared to death to talk to Rosie. Angelica was different. She put him right at ease. It occurred to Sam that Angelica was a friend, much like Frodo was a friend, and that made all the difference in the world.

However, one other thing Sam had overheard bothered him. Angelica had regained her memories? When had that happened? And why hadn't she told him? Sam squinted as he thought hard. Suddenly he recalled a conversation that he'd had with Angelica back in Rivendell. She had mentioned that Elfinwort grew in Lothlorien -- but she had never been to Lothlorien before.

Who in Rivendell was from Lothlorien? Haldir. Haldir knew as much about herbs as any of them, too. In fact, the one real conversation Sam had had with the aloof Marchwarden had been on the subject of the plant life growing in the wood around them as they traveled. Haldir must have given Angelica the Elfinwort in Rivendell. And apparently, some of them knew about it. Who? In whom had she confided? And why not Sam?

In his heart, Sam knew why she hadn't confided in him. He had treated her horribly after their tryst in Rivendell. He felt ashamed, especially since Frodo had had to point out his terrible behavior to him. Frodo. Maybe Frodo had known all along. Sam wondered. That would mean that Frodo had not confided in him either, and that made it a double-sting. Still… he understood why.

On top of this was the news that Ciendriel had been demanded to marry Haldir, which to Sam was the most ridiculous folderol he had ever heard. Everyone could see that she and Legolas were in love. This, however, was nothing for Sam to get involved with. He did look forward to seeing Aragorn in Mirkwood. That was a pleasant surprise. And Elrond? What was Elrond doing in Mirkwood?

Sam was standing there puzzling this over when Legolas came up the stairs towards Galadriel's chamber. He panicked, flattening himself against the wall, but Legolas only nodded at him and passed by. A moment later Angelica came out of Galadriel's chamber. She stopped when she saw him, smiling with delight.

"Sam! What are you doing here?"

Sam knew he was blushing. "I…came to bring you something."

"Really? Aren't you sweet! What is it?"

Sam lifted up his hand. He'd crushed it, but the plant was still recognizable. "Elfinwort. You were right. It does grow here."

He saw Angelica blush, and wondered if she realized that he had overheard her conversation with Galadriel.

"Thank you," she said. She paused, as if waiting for him to confess that he knew that she no longer needed it. He didn't. Finally she said, "I suppose you know…that I have already regained my memories."

He nodded. "I didn't mean to drop no eaves on you, but--"

"It's all right. I didn't mean to keep a secret from you. So we are even."

Sam felt a tremendous sense of relief. "Yes."

"Well then," she said, taking his arm and slipping her own through it, "Pippin says Elfinwort makes a lovely salad. Let's go see if he is right."

***

Night had fallen over Lothlorien, and Frodo Baggins sat outside the sleeping area, leaning against a tree trunk. He really wished he had a pipe to smoke, but he wouldn’t have dared do it here after the experience with the green weed back in the forest. Sam was drying out some for him, but it wouldn’t be ready for days. Speaking of Sam, Frodo had a suspicion that his gardener had followed after Angelica on her way to meet with Lady Galadriel. This was part of the reason that he was not inside the sleeping area, trying to sleep. He was waiting for them to return.

The other part of the reason had to do with Gimli snoring, and Merry and Pippin fooling around. It wasn’t that late, but they didn’t have much to do in Lothlorien besides wait for Legolas to tell them it was time to move on. Frodo suspected that this would happen soon.

Frodo thought about how much they had all changed during the past few weeks, ever since Angelica and Ciendriel had come to Hobbiton. Angelica especially had been such a strong influence on all of their lives. Frodo had been afraid, for a short time, that Sam had a crush on him. In fact, many times people had suspected them of being more than just friends, but that wasn’t true. Frodo knew that Sam seemed to direct this energy at him because he was too afraid to speak to Rosie. Angelica was good for Sam, in that from her he was learning that it was possible to love a girl and be her friend at the same time.

And what had Frodo learned, himself? He thought about this.

Knowing Angelica, being with her, both as a friend and a lover (albeit there had only been that one time in the reeds beside the river outside of Rivendell) had tempered his crush on Gimli. It had made easier the fact that nothing was ever going to come of that. It had made his rare anger at Legolas for being the object of Gimli’s affections disappear entirely. This was a good thing, a very good thing.

She had affected Gimli, too, Frodo knew. The Dwarf would have very much liked to have Angelica all to himself, and at least he didn’t have to be drunk to express his affection to her. Had she permitted it, Gimli would have stolen Angelica away from all of them, Frodo knew. And yet he respected her choice, which was to be with whomever she choose when the mood struck her. He wondered if Dwarf women were like that.

Frodo contemplated this as he sat, looking up at the patterned branches of the trees. He loved Lothlorien. It was even more beautiful than Rivendell, even if Elrond had provided them with more comfortable accommodations. He wondered what Mirkwood would be like. He was very excited to see Legolas’ homeland, and to meet his family. Frodo was lucky to have his own family, for so he counted Sam, Merry and Pippin, with him. All except for Bilbo.

Suddenly Frodo missed Bilbo very much. He had hoped that the older Hobbit might turn up at Rivendell, but Bilbo had not been there. In all the excitement, Frodo had forgotten to ask Lord Elrond if he knew where Bilbo was these days. He wondered if he would ever see his uncle again.

“Frodo, are you all right?”

Angelica stood before him, arm in arm with Sam. Frodo hadn’t even seen them approach. He swiped at his eyes, which were wet, and forced a smile.

“I’m fine,” Frodo said.

Angelica frowned as if she didn’t believe him. She turned to Sam, taking his hands in hers. “Do you mind if I speak with Frodo alone for a moment?”

Sam smiled at her, and Frodo could see admiration shining in his eyes. “How about if I go make us that salad?”

Angelica nodded, then Sam let go of her fingers and disappeared inside. She held out her hand to Frodo and he took it and climbed to his feet.

“You always try to be brave, don’t you?” Angelica whispered to Frodo. “You can be sad sometimes, Frodo. It’s okay.”

Frodo nodded, a lump in his throat. The tears rushed back into his eyes. “Let’s go for a walk,” he said. He didn’t want the others to hear him crying. Not Gimli, not Merry, not Pippin. He hung on to Angelica’s hand, and led her off into the trees.

After a few minutes, he stopped walking. Angelica put her arms around him, and Frodo put his head on her shoulder.

“Tell me what’s wrong,” she said softly.

“I’m just missing my Uncle,” Frodo said. “That’s all. Such a little thing, really. Missing him, missing all the people I haven’t seen in a long time.”

Angelica said nothing. She stroked Frodo’s back comfortingly, and he began to feel better. He wondered if she had people back in Hob’s Corners that she missed. People she might never see again. Suddenly he felt a little selfish. He let go of her slowly and looked into her eyes, but they held only comfort and solace.

“How did your meeting with Lady Galadriel go?”

Angelica bit her lip, chewing on it softly. “Let me tell you about it later,” she said.

“All right.”

“Right now, will you kiss me, Frodo?”

“Yes.”

***

Ciendriel sat by the edge of the water. Her feet were bare, as Galadriel had provided her only with the dress and some rather delicate undergarments, but no shoes. She let them trail in the river. She was quiet, listening to the sound of the Elves of Lothlorien singing in the distance as they went about their work or play. Mingled with that was the rushing of the river and the chirping of crickets.

The moon was full and the weather was warm, and she felt herself drifting. She let the feeling take her and relax her as her mind wandered. She thought about Legolas, and about Haldir. She thought about her mother, and missed her sharply. Would her mother banish her if she disobeyed her wishes? Would she never be allowed to return to Ingra? This had happened to Angelica -- could it not happen to her as well?

She did not think that whatever Legolas might say to Galadriel would suddenly cause the Elven Queen to have a change of heart. After all, Galadriel had simply agreed to Morgone’s will, not set this before her. Still, it meant everything to her that Legolas was willing to fight for her, and steeled her determination to be with him, no matter the cost.

But, what if his family opposed it just as strongly. What if his father, Lord Thranduil, forbid them to be together? Would Legolas give up his own home and family to be with her?

Something told Ciendriel that he would, but she didn’t want that for him, didn’t want to see him displaced that way. Maybe the unselfish thing to do, where he was concerned, would be to give in to the path she was being pushed towards and to marry Haldir. What would that be like? Would he be true to her? Would he ever love her? Or would he simply treat her as a plaything, a possession?

As if thinking of the devil had conjured him, Haldir stepped out of the shadows just then, lightly climbing over the roots of the tree towards where she was sitting. Without being asked, he sat down beside her, though he folded his legs beneath him instead of putting his feet, clad in boots, into the water.

She didn’t say anything to him. She wished he would leave her alone. She really had nothing to say to the Marchwarden. He knew she didn’t want to marry him (she didn’t, did she?) and that should serve well enough.

“I suppose,” Haldir said after a while. “That you are still feeling stubborn.”

“That is not the word I would choose, but if you mean am I still determined not to marry you -- the answer is yes.” Why should she tell him she had been thinking on it? Why should she mention that she could not get the image of the blond children surrounding them in Galadriel’s water mirror out of her mind?

“I know,” he said in what for him must be a patient tone, “That you think you are in love with Legolas--”

“I do not think it, Haldir, I know it.”

“Yes,” he said, “Very well. Still, Princess, would it be such a bad thing to wed me? I know that what you desire most of all is love. Perhaps in time...that might grow between us.”

Ciendriel looked at him in surprise. He looked frankly back into her eyes. He seemed to mean what he was saying. It melted something inside of her the smallest bit, and she hated that. She didn’t want to care for him, did not want this to be any more complicated than it already was.

“What about Legolas?”

“Your feelings for him will fade in time.”

“Do you no longer call him friend?” she said coldly. “Did you ever? Do you have any idea of how badly you have hurt him? And not just once--”

“Yes,” Haldir said fiercely. “I do know.”

“Does it not grieve you at all?”

“I am not as entirely heartless as he makes me out to be.”

“I wonder.”

“What if Legolas was not precluded from the arrangement? Would you wed me then?” Haldir asked her, sounding thoughtful.

She could not help it. She laughed. “Do you mean to tell me that as your wife I could have a lover?”

Haldir grinned. “If we shared him.”

“Even if I were foolish enough to agree to that, Legolas would not. He possesses a nobility that you can only imagine, Haldir.”

“Perhaps he does. And yet, I think he would agree, if the alternative was losing you.” Haldir bent and kissed her mouth almost tenderly, with excruciating slowness. “Think on it, Princess. I am offering to let you have your lembas and eat it, too.”

The wicked Marchwarden got up and disappeared back into the trees, leaving Ciendriel with even more to ponder.