Tel\' Lindar (The Bard)

Chapter 2

The Name Game or Sad Songs Say so much

***

The Wind took my footprints
A poet took my heart
one look of a child burned my paintings
Sorrow felled my Gods
Rain in the cup of my life
Pouring Rain in the cup of my life...

Painters Waltz
Andreas Vollenweider
Eliza Glikyson

***

The room was dark; almost as dark as the...

Dungeons...

In the dim light, he could see her outline. She sat by a table, surrounded by piles of scrolls and parchment. A small fire blazed in the fireplace and a paltry, flickering candle was on the table next to her.

She was reading.

As his eyes became accustomed to tenebrous light, he took in the room. It was cavernous, dank, musty...

\"You must watch out for her.\"

He jumped, startled at the sound of the voice. No one had been able to sneak up on him before.


The big Elf. He looked him straight in the eye.

Not many could look the Voyeur in the eye.

\"You must watch out for her.\" he repeated. \"She forgets to eat. She does not sleep when she finds something to occupy her mind. She does not take care of herself. You must make sure she does.\" The Elf\'s eyes searched his. \"She is my heart; my greatest jewel; my most prized treasure. You must not fail her. Help her. Help her find her bow.\"

And with that said, he swooped around the Voyeur towards the woman.

\"Baraermin. You have not seen the sun all day nor eaten. Please, join me.\" The Elf extended a hand towards the woman.

He saw her look up. \"What is there to see? Dry dust? Desert? A scalding sky? I saw that yesterday. And the day before. And the day before. And the day before...\" Her voice trailed off as her head tipped back and forth with each ‘and\'.

\"Do not make me carry you.\"

The Voyeur could see the caring and devotion the Elf had for the woman. He felt the stirrings of...

Jealousy?

\"Darling, please, allow me to finish this one document.\" Her eyes were pleading as she held out the scroll for the Elf\'s perusal.

\"Nay, Baraer. You can come back to it.\" He gently removed the parchment from her hand and laid it on the table. \"I will carry you if I must.\"

She smiled up at the Elf and taking the offered hand, stood, her fingers going to her back. \"I doubt you would be able to carry my ample rear end up the stairwell, my love.\"

She was well into the final stage of pregnancy.

\"I will if I must. Think of the babe, our daughter..\" Both of her hands were now at her back, massaging stiff muscles. \"See what you have done?\" The Elf\'s voice was gentle, teasing. \"Now, I will spend all night, rubbing the soreness from your body. Perhaps, I should just put you to bed and bring these to you?\" He motioned to the stacks of documents. She slowly moved towards the Elf and tucked her hand into his elbow.

\"I think of our son, always, especially when he kicks, which is often,\" she laughed. She stressed the word ‘son\', as if this was an old and recurring debate between the two. \"And methinks, you will enjoy rubbing my back and a few other parts that need attention.\" She tapped her lip with her finger. \"Now that you mention it, I am hungry. What fine feast awaits us upstairs?\"

Her smile was infectious and the Voyeur caught himself almost smiling with her. She was full of life, in more ways than one, but he wondered what would draw such a vibrant creature into the dankest of cellars?

\"Lembas, lembas, and more lembas.\" The Elf smiled sadly. \"Heridil and the Twins have found no game. Not that they hoped to.\" He touched the curve of her stomach. \"We must leave within a few days if we are to get you back to the White City in time for our child\'s birth.\" The Elf leaned down and kissed her tenderly on the mouth, his hand caressing her belly.

The Voyeur looked away, ashamed, feeling left out, not wanting to see the display of loving affection. Would any woman ever look at him, kiss him like that? Then again, he looked in the mirror daily. Why would any woman ever look at him? He felt the whisper of the wind on his face and looked up.

They.. she stood before him, her fingers hovering over his jawline. Her mouth moved with the words he never thought to hear and his eyes jerked down to the floor.

When he looked back up, he realized he was sitting in his bed, looking at the green drapes that framed his sleeping abode. The mustiness of the cavern permeated his bedchamber; the final thoughts of the dream still lurking in his brain; her voice whispering...


You are not supposed to die alone. You are not destined to live alone. I come...

***

She walked into a brightly lit corridor and she could see a living and dining area across the back. There was a small closet and circular staircase on the right and a small office and kitchen on the left. The back wall had French doors, leading to a patio. She made a beeline towards it.

\"Madame Morgan...\" He caught a whiff of her unique scent as she sailed past. Leather and... roses?


\" ‘Tis Bronwyn, you stubborn old soul! Wait.\" She threw open the french doors and stepped out. The dungeons were several floors below the grounds and the patio was dug in. A rough stone retaining wall shored the dirt to the ground level where a greenhouse ceiling capped the above to the first floor of the school. Regardless of the weather, she would enjoy this almost outdoor area.

\"Madame, if you would please pay attention...\"

\"If you call me Madame one more time, I am going to tie you to the ceiling, let you hang for several days and then take my Epilady to your face!\" Her voice was calm, clear and her eyes flashed with amusement when she finally looked at him.

He dug fingers into his eyes, trying desperately to quell the building migraine and she swore she heard a growl of exasperation come from his throat.

\"I need answers!\"

\"Then ask your questions. I will do what I can to answer them.\"

Severus raked fingers through his inky black hair. Where, oh where to begin...

\"You have a headache.\"

\"Your powers of deduction are mind-boggling.\" he snarled, rubbing his temples.

\"Have you no potions, no Tylenol or aspirin for it?\" She was suddenly by his side, looking up, looking concerned.

\"Nothing helps.\" His voice was a gritty sigh on the air.

\"Ah. My... husband, Haldir,\" she pronounced the name with a lilt - Hahl-deair, \"had them as well. I can help, if you let me.\"

Black eyes raked her slight form angrily. \"You know a potion to rid me of this? One that I would not know?\"

She smiled with a snort. \"Nay. No potion. No spell. No pill.\"

He closed his eyes again, rubbing his head. \"What magic is this, no potion, no spell, Madame?\"

\"It\'s Bronwyn. I\'m really getting tired of repeating myself, but you are hard-headed, so I will be patient.\" He glared down at her. \"It is a simple thing, what I would do.\" She smiled innocently. \"Of course, it would require that you.. uhm... remove some of your clothing.\"

He stood up straight, snapping his robes around him. He tucked his hands inside his elbows and gave her his most haughty look.

\"I will NOT disrobe, nor will I submit any part of my body to your bloody Elven conjuring!\"

There was low growling from the corner.

He had forgotten about the wolf.

\"Suit yourself. It\'s your headache. Amadeus,\" she admonished, \"stop that! He is allowed to be a little grouchy!\" The wolf got up, still growling and padded around to another corner, dropping heavily on the floor. He stared balefully at Severus.

She had closed the French doors and turned to face him. \"You wanted answers. What are your questions?\"

\"Why are you haunting my dreams? I cannot get a decent night\'s sleep without dreaming of you and that husband of yours.\"

She dropped her head, sighing heavily. \"Exactly what kind of dreams are you having?\"

His voice was harsh, clipped. \"Oh, nothing much really. A rotting bog with dead people floating beneath...\"

\"The Dead Marshes.\"

\"Battles and more battles with Elves and you fighting things I have never seen and never wish to see...\"

\"The Battles of the Golden Woods and Dol Guldur.\"

\"You. Rather pregnant, in a cavern, reading scrolls by a dim light...\"

\"The fortress of Baradur.\"

\"Oh, I almost forgot -\" he snapped his fingers and took on a look of feigned amazement, \"a talking dragon. Rather nasty death, he had.\"

\"Smut.\"

\"Smut?\" His voice was incredulous. \"Smut?\"

She nodded in resignation. \"Yes. Smut. That was his name.\" She shrugged her shoulders and regarded the plush rugs on the floor. \"He needed to die, but not the way he did.\"

\"I would think not. You are quite the efficient and accomplished assassin, aren\'t you?\"

Her head jerked up, eyes flashing. For the first time, he looked closely at her. For the first time, he saw the dark circles under her eyes, the thin, parchment, porcelain of her skin, veins showing clearly, saw the thinness of her arms, the silverish snake coiled tightly around the one, the boniness of her collarbone. She looked exhausted. She looked...

Emaciated. Underfed.

\"I did not know.\" she spat. \" I had no idea. The Valar call it a gift, but I disagree. I hated what happened. I hated how it killed him. No one should die like that! I hated what it did to me!\" Now she put her hands to her forehead, fingers at the edge of her hairline, as if to ward off the headache he had now given her. \"Please. A different question.\"

He came against her, reaching out and pulling her closely nearer his body. \"Your bow. What is so damned important about your bow?\"

Her eyes had focused in on his frock coat, her hand hovering over the fine cut of the material.

\"Why do you wear so many clothes? Aren\'t you ho-\"

\"Answer the question, Professor Powell. Your bow.\" This voice brooked no argument and she wondered if he actually used it with children.

\"My bow...my bow...\"

\"You parrot back, very well. Your...\" he hooked a calloused finger under her chin, \"...bow!\" and jerked her face up to meet his eyes.

The flames in them grew brighter. She jerked her face away and set her teeth.

\"My bow is my mouthpiece. It is how I communicate with my children.\"

\"You have told me nothing.\" He wrenched her back towards him. \"Why is it so important to get it back?\"

Her face turned red and her voice hissed in fury. \"Do you even know who the hell I am? I am the Historian of the Ages, the Storyteller of the Races, the Protector and Seer of the Future, the Musician of the All, the Voice of the Unheard, the Keeper of the Truth and of the Innocent. I am the Founder and Mother of the Celtic Bards. I am the Bard of the Earth.\" The titles rattled from her tongue as if she had said them and heard them many, many times. \"That bow is how I hand my knowledge down from generation to generation. It is how I talk, how I communicate with my descendants.\" He started to open his mouth, but she raised her hand. \"No! You will allow me finish!

\"I am not like you. I do not speak in short sentences and convey a thousand thoughts in a few words. The child, the descendant who has my bow is the one I communicate through. They can use it to communicate with me as well. But somehow, the child who was supposed to get my bow has died, leaving no heirs and the child who has it is, is shall we say, pretty damn evil! I need to get it back and pass it on to the child who should have it next.\"


Snape took a minute to digest the rushing current of information she had just spewed forth. \"Why me? Why do I have to help you?\"

\"Oh, I don\'t know. Maybe because my demon spawn is a Wizard? And apparently, the Valar seem to think a lot of you!\" She jerked away from him and turned her attention to the glass French door, her hands dragging down her face. \"I just want to get my bow, return it to the proper descendant and then fade to the Halls of Waiting so I can join Haldir!\"

\"Fade? You wish to what?\" He tipped his head towards her as if to hear better.

\"Fade!\" The word was spat, ejected from her lips. \"Lie down and will myself to die.\"

Snape took another moment to absorb the information. He felt her anger and despair, sitting in his brain. He felt crying, depression... loneliness.

She was lost. She was alone.

\"You would rather die, than live?\"

She turned on him like a caged animal, a lioness on the hunt. \"Yes! Die. I cannot return to my home in the Undying Lands. I cannot return to my life there; cannot return to my child left behind there! I do not wish to be in your head, I do not wish to stay here alone, in my grief, in my sorrow. I do not wish any of this! I simply want to get my bow, hand it to the child the Valar have chosen, and go to be with my husband!\"

Snape\'s hands were crossed back into his elbows. Deep eyes gazed thoughtfully into her blazing ones. \"Fiery one, are we not?\"

Crack!

His head whipped backwards; he did not see the blow coming when she slapped him, full force in the face. He slowly turned his head back to her, eyes attenuated with black intentions.

\"You will not call me that. Ever!\" Her eyes were narrowed in angry slits. \"Never are you to say that to me!\"

\"And why not, fiery one?\"

It was said with deliberation. This time, he was ready. His hand caught hers as it snaked out and he quickly caught the other one as well. He had grabbed her by the wrists and was squeezing, squeezing until he could feel the small bones in her wrist twisting. He saw the flicker of pain flash through her eyes. He raised an eyebrow. Most would be on the floor by now, begging for release. Not her.

\"Turn me loose.\"

Now it was his turn to tilt his head engagingly and he sneered. \"Ah, ah, ah. You did not answer my question. Why can I not call you...\" she intensified her struggle and he tightened his grip, pulling her flush against him, knowing he was hurting her. He whispered in her ear, she could feel his lips on her skin, his very breath, blowing down her neck. \"...Fiery one?\"

She ceased her struggle, tears welling in her eyes.

\"My husband never called me by my name. Except when I had done something to displease him.\"

His sneer turned into an evil smile, his breath now on her cheek. \"I take it he called you by name quite often?\"

\"No! Rarely. Please, turn me loose.\" Her eyes were on the buttons of his frock coat. He was squeezing her wrists so tight, he knew she would most likely bruise.

\"If he did not call you by your name, what did he call you?

She took a deep breath. \"He called me Baraer. Baraermin.\"

Snape recognized those names and he inhaled sharply at the recall. He had heard him call her that in his dreams. His voice, however, never betrayed him and he squeezed her wrists tighter, nearly crushing the bones. He paid no attention to the low growl coming from the wolf.

\"And what, pray tell, does ‘Baraermin\' mean?\"

She took a deep, deep breath.

\"It means fiery one. My Fiery One.\"

\"Ah. That was not so difficult.\" He loosened his grip on her wrists and turned them over. He saw his finger prints clearly outlined on her wrist and for a very small moment, he felt bad, guilt. But then, he remembered the stinging slap and what guilt he had harbored miraculously dissipated. He rolled her wrists in his hands. They felt... wrong. He looked closely at them, at her, at her hollowed cheekbones, her thin wrists, the strap of her top, hanging on the edge of her shoulder.

This weight was wrong for her. Her clothes were meant for a larger woman. She WAS malnourished.

She forgets to eat...

\"When was the last time you ate?\" His voice was almost a whisper.

\"I don\'t know. This morning.\" Using the presence in his mind, he delved deeply into hers.

She lied.

\"Try three days, Professor Powell. You have not eaten in three days.\"

She shrugged. \"I don\'t remember. I am not hungry.\"

Her stomach was rumbling. He didn\'t have to use magic to hear it.

\"How can I help you, if you will not help yourself?\" He turned her loose and she stepped back, rubbing her wrists.

\"You don\'t get it, do you?\" she grimaced. \"I would rather not have your help, but I have no choice.\"

And that was how the two Elves and two Wizards found them. Standing less than a foot from each other, glaring, with the wolf behind her, bristling.

***

Guitars ring through the dead of night
Sing so blue
Sound so right
Make you homesick...

(ARS - Homesick)

***

Bronwyn looked guiltily at Celeborn and turned her back on all, laying her head on the cool panes of the windows. Snape, if anything, seemed to coil tighter within his robes. They could see the stark outline of her hand print on his face and Rumil\'s eyes glinted at the thought of what he must have done to anger her so deeply. Looking over to her, he noticed the imprints, the bruises forming on her wrists. Grey elvish eyes narrowed and he took a step towards the dark wizard.

\"Wait.\" He was restrained by Gandalf. \"Things are not always what they seem.\"

\"He has touched her. Her wrists...\"

\"Peace, my Elfling. Look at his face. It seems she has... touched... him as well. Besides,\" his voice dropped conspiratorially , \"do you not think that Amadeus would have shredded him by now?\" He leaned towards Dumbledore and smiled most congenially. \"I think they are off to a fine start!\"

\"Indeed. A very fine start!\"

Celeborn came to stand behind Bronwyn. He could see her tears in the reflection of the window and her pain broke his heart. His fondness for her had always bordered on the high end of his emotions and he had enjoyed her antics and watching her adventures from the side, but she had belonged to Haldir. And now she belonged...he slid venerable eyes to the dark wizard, saw the glare, the fury, the clenched jaw.

So familiar. He had heard what Gandalf had said. They were off to a fine start, indeed.

Her sigh was deep, almost a moan. She had closed her eyes, but tears still continued to cascade down pale cheeks. Music, sad music, enveloped the room.

\"As far as my eyes can see
There are shadows surrounding me...\"

Celeborn motioned Rumil to go upstairs. The command was clear - prepare her bed. He then motioned to Gandalf. The White Wizard leaned to Dumbledore.

\"Perhaps, we should take this conversation to your office. We can talk to your young wizard there, answer his questions best we can.\"

Dumbledore nodded in agreement and motioned to Snape. Black eyes glinted dangerously, and he strode over to the woman, crying against the window.

\"We have not finished this conversation, Madame.\" Her shoulders convulsed in silent sobs. He felt a cool finger on his cheek. The Elf, Celeborn, looked at him with vast amusement.

\"Ah. You wish a matching print for your other cheek?\"

Gathering himself up with all the dignity he could muster, Snape pulled his robes to him and proceeded towards the door, only to be stopped by Dumbledore.

\"Severus, go upstairs and help Rumil. Then join us in my office. There is much to discuss.\" Kindly eyes peered into inky pools. \"He was her husband\'s brother. He might be... more open to questions than she. Then again, maybe he won\'t.\" Albus patted him on the shoulder and the two silently left through the door.

\"Oh, and Severus,\" Albus poked his head back through the door, \"you will need to ward her doors for her. Her magic is not like ours and I would hate to see anything... untoward happen.\" The door slid quietly shut.

Severus looked at the Elf and the woman. Celeborn had planted both hands on her shoulders and he was whispering in ear. He could hear her murmured response in their sing-song language. With an exasperated sigh, he flung himself up the stairs.

There were two bedrooms and two baths upstairs. Apparently, the Elves intended to visit her often, so Albus had charmed the apartment for her to be able to entertain. A small bedroom and bath lay to the right, in the back corner of the apartment, where the master bedroom lay directly at the front, taking up the entire length. Double glass doors were opened and Snape stepped down into the sunken part of the room.

Rumil had turned down the bed and was standing back, admiring the beauty of the furniture. His look was one of concern.

\"This is a very large bed for one tiny woman.\" He said it out loud to no one in particular, but as he said it in the Common Tongue; perhaps he knew Snape was behind him. \"Very beautiful, but very large.\"

It was a king sized bed, with many pillows. A four poster with long silver drapes at the corners, attached on a rod on the ceiling, around a silver draped ceiling box. The headboard was mirrored, with dainty, lacy candle sconces. The bedspread matched the curtains and the bed was accented with black pillows and skirt, along with cottony black sheets. There was an over-stuffed burgundy chair next to the bed.

The right side - or back half - of the room, rose up a step and was as equally large as the sunken area. A large window opened out to the stone wall, allowing light into the room. The area was covered with boxes and trunks of all shapes and sizes. Rumil had moved to the trunks and was opening them one at a time.

\"Do you plan to unpack for her? Are you brother-in-law or servant?\"

The Elf snorted at him. \"I am her friend, first and foremost.\" He began to rifle through the mounds of clothing. Severus saw yards of delicate, beaded materials, light gossamer pastels. Rumil shook his head and closed the trunk, moving on to the next. \"I am very worried for her.\" This trunk yielded dark, brocades and velvets. He shook his head again and closed it. \"She does not eat...\"

\"I noticed.\" Snape\'s voice was droll.

Rumil had gone to yet another trunk - a long narrow box. He saw Amadeus come in a sit behind yet another trunk, resting his head on the hatch. \"She does not rest. She roams the floors, pacing all night.\" He gasped when he opened it. Severus came to stand over him, looking over his shoulder. \"I did not know she still had this. She refused to wear it, she hated it so.\"

It was armor. Armor made specifically for her. The breast plate looked as if it had been molded to her body. There were burnished leg plates, arm plates, metal finger grips. There was a black under tunic, black leggings, soft, supple black boots.

This woman loved black as much as he.

On the side was a sword, in its scabbard, worn, molded to her hand. And lying on top was a bow. An unusual bow, long, strong, the string unattached to save the wood from warping.

\"Well,\" Snape breathed a sigh of relief. \"It seems we have found her errant bow. Now perhaps, we can fin-\"

\"That is not her bow. It is Haldir\'s.\" Rumil rummaged through the trunk. \"Ah, his quiver and some of his arrows are here as well.\" He pulled it out and pulled an arrow from it.

The arrow itself was a thing of craftsmanship, of beauty. Rumil examined it and showed it to Snape. \"She made this. Any arrow he shot, he put in his quiver, she made, she fletched. She fletches the best.\" He placed the bow back in the quiver and lovingly placed it back in the trunk. \"Too bad, she cannot shoot for shit.\" He was smiling, but it quickly fell.

Amadeus was banging his muzzle on the trunk, causing Rumil to look at the animal. \"What is it?\" The wolf\'s dark eyes flickered back and forth between the Elf and Wizard and rolling them, he thumped the container again.\"You win!\" Rumil laughed.

Rumil scratched the animal behind the ear and opened the trunk. Severus saw his shoulders droop. \"How did she sneak this past them?\" He lifted a large gray tunic. It was long enough for Severus, but would have been too wide. It was made for an immensely, powerfully built man. An archer.

\"Why would they have wished to hide it?\" Severus question hung in the air for several moments.

\"She wore his clothes. Always. He never understood. When he... died, she wore nothing else but his garments. Over the months, Celeborn has been removing Haldir\'s things, trying to help her move forward to her destiny. She has fought it with all her being.\" Rumil wadded the tunic and put it to his face, inhaling. \"She says his clothing smelled of him. She was right.\"

He stood up quickly, hearing footfalls coming up the stairs. \"Quickly, \" he threw the garment to Severus. \"Hide it!\"

Severus looked around, looking for a suitable place to stuff the tunic and seeing Celeborn\'s blonde head coming slowly up the spiral staircase, did the only thing he could think of.

He tucked it into his robes.

***

And to those I leave behind
I wanted you to know
You\'ve always shared my deepest thoughts
You follow where I go

(Old and Wise
Eric Woolfson/Alan Parsons
Alan Parsons Project)

***

\"Such a sad song, Tithen aras.\"

\"It is... appropriate.\"

\"Bronwyn? Are you alright?\" Celeborn was taking in marks on her wrists. \"Has he harmed you?\" She saw his eyes narrow in the reflection in the window. \"Wizard or no, I will not...\"

\" ‘Tis alright. I did strike him first.\"

Celeborn gently rubbed her shoulders, in attempt to rid her of the tension he could see within her.. \"What did he say to upset you so?\" He was close, almost in an embrace.

\"Baraer - - he called me a fiery one.\" Tears coursed down her cheeks. \"Only Haldir called me that.\"

Ah, she would have slapped him for that, despite his unknowing. \"Yes. I remember. From early in your days together, he called you his.\"

Bronwyn took a deep breath. \"The dark one does not wish this. I do not wish this. Is the one who has my bow so horrid?\"

\"Yes, sweetling, he is.\"

She turned in his arms, her hands snaked around his waist, clutching him like a small child, her face in his robes. \"I have had wild children to have it before. Uther. William Rufus - he was a most wretched creature - John Lackland,...\"

\"But they were meant to have it. This one was not. Bronwyn, you must get it back.\"

\"We are positive a wizard has it?\" Her grip tightened on his sash.

\"You saw what the mirror showed. You saw what will happen if you do not get it back. This Earth, overrun with Orcs, Uruk-hai; the Balrogs and other demons released from their chains. Morgoth unleashed on a world still reeling from almost nuclear war and Voldemort. They will not be able to withstand the onslaught. They will blame the other for the foulness. You know what your heart tells you. There will be nothing left to save.\"

He folded her arms around her and held her gently close. Such a burden Iluvatar had placed on tiny shoulders. How strong did the Valar think she was? How much more could this Vessel take before cracking? \"Bronwyn, what are your thoughts? You have seen much, but confided little.\"

She took a deep, cleansing breath. \"Honestly? You know my thoughts. It is my fault Haldir is dead. It is my fault my child was caught in the cross-fire before his time. Had ‘They\' informed me, I could have changed it; saved Haldir, saved my child. Maybe it is not my fault, after all. Had they truly learned their lessons from past mistakes, they would have gotten off their little thrones and done something useful for a change.\" She looked up into horrified eyes and smiled a foul smile. \"Yes, I blame them! They said ‘Retrieve your bow and we will return you to Haldir.\" She broke free of the gentle prison.

\"Well, I shall hold them to it. I will retrieve it, with or without this Wizard\'s help, and then I expect to be allowed to fade!\" She turned back to the window pane, mutinous eyes flashing.

Celeborn\'s hands waved uselessly in the air for a short time, before finally resting them on her shoulders.

\"Bronwyn. Do you not wish for a full life? Do you-\"

\"I HAD a full life, Celeborn! Remember? A loving husband, four beautiful children, two of whom are still living, grandchildren galore. I taught the little Elflings of the lore, music, the Ainur, of Arda. For them, I kept the One Ring alive. I came here to stop senseless destruction, to save a race of Wizards who were determined to stay hidden, as THEY asked of me! I had a full life, Celeborn. I wish to fade.\"

He turned her to him and enveloped her in powerful arms, hidden by voluminous robes. A politician and master arbitrator first, he too, had been a Warden of the Golden Woods and was well versed in fighting skills. He too, was an archer. A slender finger tipped her chin upward and he gazed deep into teary eyes.

\"I am sorry, Tithen Aras. You know your task will not be complete upon finding your bow. You must finish the job started. You must wait for the appropriate child to give your bow too. You will have to train that child. The Valar have given you the most amazing opportunity...\"

\"I do not WISH that opportunity. I want Haldir and I wish for no other!\"

Celeborn sighed in frustration. Regaining his self-composure, he arched an elegant eyebrow and pulled her close.

\"You know as well as I, that Haldir would not have you grieve endlessly for the rest of your years...\"

\"He would have faded to join me if our roles were reversed! He told me he waited for me!\"

Celeborn placed a single finger across her lips. \"That is true. He would have. He could do that; as an Elf, it is allowed. You, my little dear, are not an Elf. You have much to do, much to accomplish and fading is not an option. Haldir will not hold anything you do here against you. He knows what the Valar have decreed and he will have accepted it. They have promised to return you to him when you have accomplished your goals. Remember that.\"

And with those words, his lips brushed across her brow and then descended on the corner of her mouth. She did not hear the sleep spell he uttered as his lips canvassed her cheek. As her body relaxed and the music died out, he picked her up, cradling her in his arms and holding her close, he gently carried her up the stairs.

***

Severus watched as the Elven Lord laid her on the bed. He kept himself coiled inwards, the tunic still in his hands under his robes. Celeborn spoke quickly to Rumil and began to step down the stairs. He stopped at the second stair.

\"You are coming with me? I do not know the way to Professor Dumbledore\'s office.\"

Snape scowled and barked, \"I will be down shortly. I have something to discuss with...Rumil. Privately.\" Celeborn watched as the lines deepened in the man\'s face. This was the one the Valar had entrusted Tel Lindar to? He continued down the stairs, shaking his head. One does not to question the Valar, however this Wizard must have something special beneath the attitude and anger to have been gifted such a wonderful treasure in her..

Snape waited until Celeborn\'s head had completely disappeared from view and he had heard the door shut softly behind the exiting Elf, before pulling the tunic from under his robes and throwing them back at the young Elf. Rumil caught it and laying it on the bed, began to pull Bronwyn\'s boots off.

\"What ARE you doing?\"

\"She cannot sleep in this. I am changing her into the tunic.\" The boots fell to the floor with a thud and he pulled off her socks, exposing battered and chipped red toenails. His hands moved to her knives, swiftly unbuckling the belt and putting her hands beneath her hips, slid them down and laid them to the side. He went back to her hips and pulled the ratty teddy bear from her waist band and tossed it to her pillow.

\"What is that thing?\"

Rumil never stopped his movements. \"It is her teddy bear. It was hers as a child and all of her children - the four she had - fought over it growing up. It goes everywhere with her.\" He began to unsnap her jeans.

\"You plan on completely disrobing her?\"

\"Well... duh!\" Rumil had picked up several slang terms from her, as well as some rather potent curse words. \"I need to change her clothes!\"

Snape pulled his wand from robes and with a frigid \"Step aside, you heathen.\" waved it over her. Rumil found himself holding the clothes she had been wearing and in turn, the tunic was now on her body. Snape put his wand back up his sleeve and leaned over to pick her up, cradling her under her neck and knees. Her skin was smooth, soft and the scent of roses invaded his nostrils. As he swung her up into his embrace, he was again assaulted by the thinness, the wrongness of her weight.

This could not go on! She must eat.

He nodded to Rumil, who moved in front of him, turning the bed linens back further. Severus gently laid her on the bed and covered her up.

\"Are you coming?\"

Rumil had gone to a box and was opening it. \"Nay. I will watch her. They will tell me what they decide.\"

Severus made his way towards the stairs. \"I will be warding the doors for her protection. You will not be able to get out, until I return to take her to dinner.\"

The Elf had apparently found what he was looking for. He held up a book. \"I will be fine.\" He quickly moved to the chair and sat in it. \"Amadeus and I will be just fine.\" He crossed his legs and read the title of the book out loud. \"The Baron\'s Conquest. Sounds interesting...\"

Severus rolled his eyes and circling down the stairs, headed towards the door. As he reached it, he pulled an object from his sleeve and examined it closely.

The coiled snake with emerald eyes.

Where had she gotten this and what did it mean? It only meant more questions to be answered. He returned the object to his sleeve and opened the door.

***

tbc

***

Tithen aras - Little dear
Iluvatar - God
Valar - lesser Gods, Guardian Angels