Tel\' Lindar (The Bard)

Chapter 09

An Elf Lord’s Advice or A Stolen Kiss

***

The field was flat and the Voyeur could see the wind blowing across the grass, felt it as it whipped through his hair, ruffling it across his face. He could smell salt on the air and he realized he was near a large body of water.

He looked to his right and saw the Big Elf.

\"Well?\" he sneered, \"what gory images to you have for me this fine evening? So far,\" and with this, he began to tick the events from his fingers, \"you have shown her fondling dead bodies in a bog, straining her eyes in a dark fortress, serenading wolves, vomiting and bleeding in the woods...\"

The Elf was glaring at him.

\"Oh, how could I forget?\" His fingers flicked as he tucked them into his elbows. \"The Uruk hai... that IS what they are called? What a thrill to watch her disembowel them!\" The sarcasm in his voice was so thick, one could have walked on it.

The Elf\'s eyes narrowed and the Voyeur heard him inhale deeply. Before he could open his mouth, the Voyeur lifted a single finger.

\"I am to watch over her, protect her, shield her, guard her, play chess for her; she is your treasure, your heart, your greatest jewel, your Baraer,\" Oh , the Elf did not like that one bit, \"she is everyone\'s Tithen Aras, their little deer. Did I miss anything?\"

\"The day will come,\" the Elf gritted between clenched teeth, \"that I will be able to deal with you as I see fit. Until that time...\"

\"Oh please, no more vomiting, no more blood, no more wretched battles. Merlin\'s Robe, if I were she, I would welcome death! Did the two of you actually have any happy memories?\"

At that, the Elf brightened.

\"Happy memories? Oh, we had happy memories.\"

\"Well, will wonders never cease?\" the Voyeur mumbled dryly. The Elf was backing away, hands and palms out. Smiling.

Oh, he as up to something...

\"Behold. Beckett.\"

He realized too late that it wasn\'t wind that suddenly blew through him.

It was a small child.

A small child with red hair and pointed ears, wearing nothing but mud.

\"NONONONONONONO! Nobath! Nobath!\" The child turned defiant eyes back towards him and put his tiny fists on his hips, thoroughly uncaring of his total lack of decorum. \"Wanna be dirty!\" And with that, he turned and took off running again, butt cheeks bouncing.

The Woman was standing next to him. Her clothing was wet, mud splattered and she looked as if she didn\'t know if she should laugh or be angry.

\"Haldir! Go catch your son!\" She looked directly at the Big Elf and pointed in the direction the child was running.

The Big Elf smiled devilishly and asked \"Baraermin, why is it when he does something you dislike, he becomes My Ion?\" He laughed out loud at her flapping mouth and sputterings. His head rose and his voice carried over the grass. \"Rumil. Heridil. Retrieve Beckett.\"

Very soon, a tall slender Elf the Voyeur did not recognize came through the field, carrying the slippery, kicking youngster over sho shoulder. \"Haldir, I do not think this young rascal wishes to bathe...

The scene faded...

\"Happy memories? You wish to see happy memories?\"

Now, the smell of sea salt was stronger and the Voyeur could see he was on the beach. The Woman and the big Elf\'s brother were standing in the surf, arms outstretched as if surfing; the red-headed child, chasing crabs at the waters edge; the big Elf standing behind, watching all...

Fading waves, fading sky...

\"Happy memory?\"

A group of Elves and the Woman riding out, the child seated firmly in the lap of the Big Elf. Identical profiles, identical sneers, identical shoulder set; the child was his father\'s son, except for hair and eyes.

A small finger pointing, jabbing, a tiny mouth jabbering nonsense, until..

\"Mama! Mama! Yada! Yada! Yada! Dammit!\"

\"Hey!\" The Woman stopped in shock. \"That was totally unnecessary, young Beckett!\"

\"Happy memory?\"

A mountain gorge and a keep built into the side of the crags. The Woman and big Elf stood atop of the walls, looking down, watching another Elf and a... Dwarf, ride off into the sunrise. The Elf\'s head dipped to her ear...

\"Have another child with me, Baraermin. Agree. We will leave for Isengard in the spring and he or she can be born there, in the gardens if you wish...\"

\"Aye.\" The Elf kissed her tenderly and the Voyeur rolled his eyes. A sputtering sound arose from beneath them and they all looked over the edge to see the red-tressed Elfling trying to blow into a horn that was fifty times his size.

The Hammerhelm. The War Horn of Helm\'s Deep...

\"More air, Beckett! Try again! Good try!\" The Elfling grinned upwards at his parents and continued to sputter...

The bright sky faded and over the span of who knew how long, the Voyeur was forced to watch the Elfling grow; upsetting young girls, calling them Orcs; riding high on shoulders, giggling, laughing, a sorrowful Elfling in the woods, crying on his Uncle\'s shoulder; an indignant Elfling...

\"Mama! Please tell Anselm that Old McDonald did NOT have a Warg!\"

\"Did so!\"

\"Did not!\"

Childish arguing.

The Voyeur\'s head ached. One hand weo hio his eyes, rubbing...

\"Happy memory?\"

A room. A well-furnished, beautiful room. The Big Elf sat on a desk, a scroll in his hand. Behind him, the Elf that had brought the Woman - the Silver Lord, Celeborn the Wise, he is called, sat. Another Elf - Heridil - looking worried.

Screaming, coming from the hall...

The Woman was screeching.

She was being argued with, a male voice, authoritative, used to being obeyed.

The Silver Lord motioned for the Elf by the door to open it and the volume raised considerably.

\"Unhand my son, you Neithadol!\"

\"She was quite angry.\" The Big Elf whispered towards the Voyeur, in a conspiratorial manner. \"She had every right to be.\"

\"Nay, I am going to beat him...\"

\"In a pig\'s eye! You will not touch my son! Not until I do it first!\" This was followed by cursing in an unknown language. At least, the Voyeur thought it might be cursing.

The Big Elf calmly turned and rolling up the scroll he and the Elf Lord had been looking at, turned back around and sat at the edge of the desk, and waited with his arms crossed.

The scene was almost comical.

Two young Elves - male and female - were shoved unceremoniously into the room by combative, enraged adults. It looked as if the she-Elf had grabbed the nearest thing to wear - in this case, the tunic the male Elf - Beckett - must have started out wearing. Beckett was struggling into his leggings with every step, trying to dodge both the male Elf and the Woman. Upon seeing the Big Elf in front of them, the two younglings cowered, embraced in each other’s arms.

No doubt what they had been caught doing!

\"That-\", the Big Elf pointed at the tall slender Elf arguing with the Woman, \"is Legolas, Prince of Greenwood. The rather comely young she-Elf-\" he then pointed to the female in Beckett\'s arms, \"is Orelinde, Legolas\' daughter.\" He grinned rakishly and winked. \"My son! He has good taste!\"

No doubt, the Big Elf was proud of his son\'s conquest.

The arguing between the Prince and the Woman continued to escalate.

\"I will see him throttled and throttled well!\"

\"No, you will not! You will have to go through me!\"

The two were nose to nose, the Prince bent over, attempting to intimidate the Woman; the Woman was on her toes, fists bouncing at her side, peppering each consonant, refusing to be dominated.

\"He seduced my daughter!\"

\"Excuse me?\" The Woman had pushed right up against the angry Elf and was now attempting to intimidate him. \"Excuse me? Who was riding who?\"

\"Is she not magnificent?\" The Big Elf\'s chest swelled with pride; he had eyes for only the Woman. His hand encased the air in front of him. \"Can you see her passion? Her zest for life? Her zeal is her strength!\" Quickly, the big Elf took a step forward and became part of the battle.

\"Din!\"

The two adults continued their skirmish.

\"I said SILENCE!\"

The ensuing quietness became as irritating as the noise. The Prince however, was not going to back down.

\"Your ion...\"

\"I said be quiet, Prince of Greenwood, and I meant it!\" The Big Elf immediately motioned to the Woman. \"That goes for you as well, Baraermin. Do not think that because you are my wife and mother to this reckless Elf that I will allow you to roll over me like Sauron\'s war machine!\" The Woman\'s jaw snapped shut with an audible click.

With the deftness of a seasoned warrior, a general, one that was used to issuing orders and having them followed immediately, the Voyeur watched the Big Elf move the adults, the younglings to various parts of the home, separating, discussing, creating peace within the disharmony. He watched him deftly calm an enraged member of Elven royalty, soothe a frightened, yet determined, young Elf. The Voyeur watched as the big Elf bodily handed the Woman to the Elf Lord, ordered him to ply her with wine. He saw a father\'s pride...

I never had that.

What would it be like to have had that?

Would I have been... different?

The Voyeur found himself in another room, the walls encased with empty bookshelves, as if the owner of the home had packed everything and moved. The Woman was encased in the big Elf\'s arms, calming her, comforting her, easing her fury into tranquility....

\"Happy memory?\"

The room changed yet again.

This room was elegant, wealth oozed from the tapestries, The Woman and Elf lay on the bed, facing each other. One of her breasts were bared, a small, newborn babe, suckling noisily.

\"My son is quite the pig.\"

\"As is his Ada.\"

The room froze.

\"You wanted happy memories? This does not begin to show you what we had together.\" The Elf look at the Voyeur, worry beginning to etch on his features. \"She is fierce in prtingting the young ones, whether they be her children or her students.\" The Elf surveyed the room, looked back at the Woman, lying on her side with the babe. \"The little ones grow so quickly. Many children have no childhood to speak of. They do not know how to play.\" The Voyeur was suddenly faced with a long, elegant finger to his face.

\"Harry Potter has forgotten how to play. Hermione Granger has forgotten how to play. Ronald Weasley has forgotten how to play. Draco Malfoy has forgotten how to play. Most sadly, you-\" the finger stabbed the Voyeur in the chest, \"never learned to play. Let her teach you joy.\"

The Voyeur took in the scene again- the Woman cradled in loving arms, nursing the babe... and found himself murmuring along with the Big Elf...

\"She is my treasure, my heart, my greatest jewel. Keep her safe. Keep her hidden.\"

Severus woke himself up whispering...

\"Teach me to play...\"

***

The red hot sun burns up the hill
The summer\'s bride, the winter\'s king
I tramp these acres and I feel
Once upon a time
Then it sd thd that everything
You saw and touched and felt was real
You turned the tap and you turned the wheel
Breathing free

Protect and Survive
C and E McDonald
Runrig

***


Severus sat in front of the fire, Bronwyn curled in his bed.

What a day. He shook his head and lifted his brandy snifter yet again.

\"Would Professor Snape be wanting anything else to?\" ?\" the house elf asked nervously.

Snape shook his head slightly. I have an entire bottle of brandy. That should be enough.

\"Professor Powell. She will be wanting anything?\"

Severus bit back the urge to zap the poor thing. Instead...

\"If she awakes and is hungry, I will take care of her needs. You may go.\"

\"Professor Snape is so kind.\"

He almost barked into his snifter. Kind. No one had ever used that word with him.

When the dust had cleared, he had stooped down to help her up off the floor. Shattered glass lay everywhere and it crunched under his boot. She was passed out, cold and although he could have levitated her, he put his arms beneath her to lift her up. And received a shock.

Literally.

Electrical heat poured through him, into her. Pure energy radiated through his hands into her neck, her waist, where he held her. It moved to her joints, strengthening her

Reviving her.

She had come to enough to descend the tower on her own. Slowly, staying very close to Severus, her hand quietly clutching the back of his jacket. They encountered no one and when they reached the dungeons, her knees gave out and the Potion Master carried her to his rooms,tingting her in a chair and summoned two snifters and a decanter of brandy.

Bronwyn sat in front of Snape\'s fireplace, feet tucked under, the huge chair dwarfing her. Her scowl rivaled anything he could have conjured on his own. There was a time she would have cursed anyone building a fire in the middle of summer, but his rooms were almost frigid without it.

\"Stupid idiot,\" she mumbled to herself. \"Falling to pieces in front of everybody over a frickin\' bullseye!\" Her eyes closed as a single tear snuck from it\'s hiding place.

But it wasn\'t a single bullseye.

It thi thirty. Very quick, very fast, without aiming.

Of course, she suspected the skills were back; Rumil and Celeborn both had told her time and time again; she had seen it in Galadriel\'s mirror. Why should it surprise her? Why? It was proof positive. No getting around it now.

Haldir was not coming back. It was not a nightmare from which she could not wake from. It was real.

It was over.

She was alone.

\"Drink this!\" His large hand stuck the brandy snifter in her face. Eyes reflecting the fire looked up into obsidian orbs.

\"Why? What did you put in it?\" She took the snifter anyway and wafted it under her nose.

\"I put brandy in it, you foolish chit!\" She raised the glass to drink, only to have it jerked from her mouth. \"Sip it, do not gulp! Merlin\'s Robes, woman, I will have more than your silly tears to clean up if you do that!\" He returned to his own chair, across from hers and watched.

He felt her fury dissipate into sorrow. Deep sorrow. The level of brandy in the snifter lowered. Her sorrow ebbed into... acceptance. She was staring deep into the flames, totally oblivious to his presence. If she was aware that he refilled the glass, she did not acknowledge it or him.

She continued to sip.

Acceptance ebbed into ... not giving up, exactly but a reluctant resolve. He felt her relax, heard her breathing even out...

He caught the glass before it fell to the carpet. Gods, the girl could fall asleep anywhere! Now he would have to carry or levitate her across the hall to her own bed! He lowered himself to one knee, drinking the dregs in the glass before setting it on the carpet between the two chairs. Her breathing was deep, her elbow propped on the arm, with her chin cupped in her hand.

There was a small drop of brandy on her lip.

Never, his dark voice said, never waste good brandy!

Ever.

He leaned forward, his head tilting to graze. He caught that unusual scent of hers...leather and roses and ruminated in it. When his mouth was scant centimeters from hers, his tongue snaked out and licked the drop from her lip.

He hovered.

She did not move.

What the hell, old boy. You only live once! His mouth completed its descent. Soft full lips surrendered to his as his mouth slanted over hers. Her lips parted slightly and he took full advantage, plundering her depths. He could taste the liquor on her tongue as it slid across his lip.

Slid across his lip?

He pulled back, his bottom lip popping from her mouth.

Her mouth that had been sucking on it.

Her eyes were slits and she had a slight, evil grin.

\"You kiss good, Severus.\" her voice was a sleepy rasp. \"You kiss really good.\" Her eyes fluttered shut and her breathing deepened.

And rather than carry her to her chambers, Severus had instead put her in his bed. Again, as he picked her up, the warm pulsations connected the two of them and when he laid her down, she flipped on her stomach and threw her arms across the bed.

He felt the wolf brush past him, nosing around the bed, looking at his sleeping mistress. Once he had decided she was safe, he sat down on all fours, head held high.

Severus looked at the white beast.

\"Do not get on my bed.\" And with that, he lowered the lights to darkness and left the room.

Amadeus looked, watched as the Wizard moved out of sight. He waited three deep breaths before quietly jumping up on the bed and lying next to Bronwyn, resuming his proud pose.

Severus would have been slightly worried to see the wolf\'s eyes slitted and glowing in the dark.

***

Pilgrim, how you journey
On the road you chose
To find out where the winds die
And where the stories go.
All days come from one day
That must you must know,
You cannot change what\'s over
But only where you go.

Pilgrim
Enya

***

So now Severus sat in front of the fire, contemplating the flames reflecting in the amber liquid of his snifter. The house elf STILL stood patiently.

\"What is your name?\'

\"Buh... buh... Bobbin, sir.\"

\"Well, Buh buh bobbin, why do you not go to Professor Powell’s rooms bri bring me the portfolio\'s of pictures she has in her living area and office to me. When you do that, go find the Elf, Rumil, and send him to me.\" He waited for the elf to leave before refilling his glass.

It was not Rumil who found Severus thirty minutes later, nose deep in pictures, but rather Albus. Severus heard him enter but did not acknowledge the Headmaster for many minutes. Albus contented himself by gazing over the Potions Master\'s shoulder to look at the drawings.

\"That is annoying as hell, Albus!\" Snape shoved the portfolio across the small table separating his chair from the one Bronwyn had been in.

\"My boy, you are not making it easy for an old man.\" The aging Wizard came around the chairs and sank in the empty seat. \"How is she?\"

\"Asleep.\"

Dumbledore turned the portfolio towards him and slowly began to look through the pictures. \"Good. She will need to regenerate her strength.\" He picked up the picture a red-headed Elf. \"Who is this?\"

Severus scowled and looked over at the sketch. \"That is Beckett. I believe he was her son. Their eldest son.\"

\"Was. He stayed behind.\" Albus laid the parchment gently back in the pile. \"It must have broken her heart to leave her children behind, knowing his fate.\" He watched as the Dark Wizard stood slowly and wander towards the fireplace. Reflections from the flames shone in his hair and for a moment, Snape stood perfectly still, before swallowing the last of his brandy and setting the snifter onto the mantle.

\"It did break her heart. She still weeps for him. Weeps for Anselm.\" He turned and looked back at the Headmaster. \"Albus, will she ever stop grieving?\"

The Headmaster heard the implied, but unspoken question in Severus\' voice. He stood up, slowly. \"Severus, my boy. Do you trust me?\"

\"You have to ask me that? After everything we have been through together? After everything you have done for me? You have to ask me that?\"

There was a twinkle in Albus\' eyes and he smiled in a way that irked the Potion Master. \"One never fully stops grieving the ones that have gone on. But they do move on and learn to live and love again.\" As he came around the chair, he patted Severus on the shoulder before heading towards the door. \"She will not sleep long. Rumil tells me we did not see the full extent of her power. It is not one she likes to use and is most reluctant to do so.\"

No, Severus thought to himself. We did not see it in all of its destructive glory.

\"Oh, I almost forgot.\" Albus stopped at the chamber\'s entrance door. \" I received an owl from Gandalf. He felt Bronwyn\'s... lapse. I have assured him that all is well, but I would expect a visit within a few days. Most likely from Lord Celeborn. She and he are very close.\"

Severus sighed angrily as he grabbed the brandy bottle and decided to forgo the snifter.

He felt uneasy, felt her...

Bronwyn was fretting in her sleep.

***

I recognize this place. It has been centuries, millennia , but I still recognize it.

Baradur.

The Fortress had been destroyed before I left Middle Earth. It should not be here.

I walk through gloomy corridors, wary, watching the dark corners and could feel...

The walls oozed with evil.

Mother.

The voice whispered from nowhere, from everywhere. Its raspiness grates on my nerves.

\"Who are you? What do you want?\"

Mother.

I am walking in circles, the halls lead nowhere and everywhere. There is no end to this.

Mother.

\"Who are you? What do you want?\"

I just want to... talk.

This voice. I know who this child is.

\"About what?\"

Oh. Nothing.

Everything.

\"I do not wish to talk right now.\"

I begin to walk faster, desperate, seeking the exit.

I know who this child is. Thief. Murderer.

Maniacal laughter echos through the hallways and I cringe in fear.

You can run, Mother, but you cannot hide. I will be waitiiiiing...

***

Bronwyn sat up with a start. She was immediately aware of being encased by strong arms and surrounded by the scent of burning wood.

And brandy.

Amadeus whining.

Despite everything, every revulsion, she allowed her arms to clasp the Wizard to her, her face pressed against a crisp, linen shirt.

She willed her breathing to slow.

\"Mada... Bronwyn. Are you alright?\" The arms did not turn loose, thankfully and she could feel his lips in her hair.

No, I\'m not alright, she wanted to yell. I\'m in the arms of someone who is not my beloved and it feels good and...

\"I\'m sorry, Severus. Was I noisy?\" She pulled back, but Snape did not turn her loose, instead looking closely at her, concern draping his features.

\"Amadeus came and got me. You were rather... distressed.\" He peered closer. \"Bad dream?\"

Somehow, she got the strength to pull from his embrace.

\"We need to find my bow. Got any ideas?\"

***

I\'m a bitch, I\'m a lover
I\'m a child, I\'m a mother
I\'m a sinner, I\'m a saint
I do not feel ashamed
I\'m your hell, I\'m your dream
I\'m nothing in between
You know you wouldn\'t want it any other way

Bitch
Meredith Brooks

***

True to Dumbledore’s prediction, Celeborn arrived late in the afternoon, three days later. Bronwyn and Amadeus met him on the front steps of the school.

After picking himself up from the ground and dusting off his robes and face, the Elf Lord examined her closely at arm’s length.

“I see that Wizard of yours adhered you to your dinner chair quite often.”

“Nay, he only had to the one time.” she smiled serenely. Celeborn noticed that she did not correct him or seem bothered by his pronouncing the Wizard as hers. “He did levitate me down to the dining hall the next morning, but I have rediscovered my love for cheesecake.” she grinned mischievously. She placed her hands on ample hips. “Are you staying the night? It is rather late and I don’t think the train is running again tonight.”

Celeborn tucked her hand into his elbow as he began to stroll towards the Great Hall, Amadeus winding closely at his feet. “I suspect, I will be here a day or two. I would like to speak to Professor Dumbledore and Rumil.” They reached the huge doors. “Tell me, Tithen Aras, how are you and the Wizard getting along?”

The grin was replaced with rolling eyes. “He is a bully, a brute and behaves very badly when he does not get his way. “

”Hmmm.” Celeborn’s face was comically thoughtful. “Do we perchance know anyone else like that?”

“We argue and when he cannot get around my sound beliefs, he resorts to magic to cheat.”

Amadeus was making strange sounds. Celeborn’s shoulders were shaking.

“Oh, laugh away!” she punched him playfully with her free hand. “It is most upsetting. It isn’t fair because I cannot fight back.” Her face fell a little and her eyes made a study of the intricate stonework on the floor they stood on. “Actually, I am glad you are here. I need to talk to someone and you are my first choice.”

Celeborn’s concern at her sudden change of moods flitted across azure eyes. “You have a problem? And there is no one here for you to confide in? You have made no friends?”

“Oh, I have made friends aplenty.” They had stopped inside the doors and watched as Wizards and Witches made their way to the table at the front of the room. “But they wouldn’t understand.” Finally, her eyes rose, sorrowful, confused. “I need the advice of Celeborn the Wise.”

“Ah.” Celeborn’s smile lit beautiful Elven features and he pulled her into his embrace. He was aware they were being scrutinized by the Potions Master and he hugged her tighter than usual, just to irk the man. “What say we go eat and after dinner, you may show me the grounds and the gardens. I have brought my motorcycle and later we can go for a ride, just the two of us!”

Bronwyn’s smile became forced. “Your motorcycle? How nice.”

***

Celeborn sat at the round table, fixed between Professor Dumbledore and Minerva McGonagall. From there, he could easily see the goings on at the table, especially the bond forming between Bronwyn, Lupin and Snape. It was obvious she and the Potions Master were not on edge with each other, in fact, were comfortable and at ease with each other. He noticed how Snape leaned towards her to listen as she spoke, how, when she addressed the DADA professor, she would gently touch the black clad Potion’s Master lightly on the cuff, as if to reassure him she was aware of him on the other side.

Once, her conversation with Lupin had become quite animated. She wagged her fork in the air, punctuating her words with it, waving it dangerously close to Snape’s nose. He had quietly grabbed her wrist and gently removing the utensil from her fingers, laid it on her plate.

More than once, their heads were together, one listening to the other.

Bronwyn smiled a lot

Snape did not.

“They appear to be quite commodious, Albus.”

The elderly Wizard chuckled. “It has been quite a haul for both. I do not know how many times we were afraid venture into the dungeons, the way it rumbled down there so.”

There was a squeal of delight in the opposing curl of the table. The Elf Lord did not have to look to know what elated her so.

Cheesecake.

The small group around him chattered about things; her instruments, her voracious appetite - once it came back - for food and books; she had inhaled their library and was now quietly approaching each professor individually to read whatever was in their personal libraries. Her knives amazed, frightened them. What she had done to the glass absolutely made them wary.

In truth, Celeborn only nodded here and there. He was watching Rumil.

Rumil was halfway between Celeborn and Bronwyn. He appeared to be engrossed in conversation with Madame Hooch, but the Silver Lord watched how his eyes darted to the threesome.

Watchful of her.

Unwilling to let go.

Celeborn sighed in frustration. It was time.

There was another bark of indignant laughter from her part of the table. She had been conversing with the Wizard, this time waving the fork in front of the Werewolf, when that one had captured her wrist in a patient vice and had - from the workings of his throat and jaw - eaten the last bite.

“Lord Celeborn.”

“You may drop the ‘lord’, Professor McGonagol.” The full force of his gaze, slid to her and the thought crossed her mind before she could stop it.

Oh, to be younger..

Minerva quickly jerked her mind from its wishful thinking.

“Lo... Celeborn. I am very concerned about something.”

“Yes?”

She gently wiped her mouth with her napkin and placed it in her plate, which immediately disappeared. “Severus has his drawbacks, his negative aspects and his social limitations, however,” and with this, she raised a long, single digit, pointing it at the Elflord, “I am QUITE fond of him. If she manages to harm him or Merlin forbid, kill him in whatever quest she is on, I shall curse her until she can no longer move!”

Celeborn burst into laughter, causing the entire table, including the threesome on the opposing side, to come to an abrupt silence and stare at him. His hand covered hers and he leaned to her ear, so only she could hear.

“Bronwyn would never to anything to harm Severus. I dare say, she would do everything in her power to protect him.” Minerva visibly relaxed and signed in relief.

“However, my dear,” he added mischievously, “he might wish vehemently for death when it’s over!”

***

The sun was sinking slowly over the edge of the trees. Celeborn and Bronwyn strolled through the gardens at a leisurely rate.

“Have I ever told you how much I enjoy seeing you in Elvish dresses?” His eyes flicked appreciatively over her form, clad in a flowing gown of gauzy mint green.

“Yes. Many times, you old pervert!”

Celeborn chuckled. “You spend much to much time with my wife!”

“I adore your wife. She has been nothing but kind and a good friend to me. Which,” she continued mischievously, “is why I refuse to take you seriously!” She took a deep breath. “Speaking of your wife, does she send news of my son, my Duncan?”

Celeborn idly stroked the fingers tucked in his arm. “He misses you. He misses his Ada. Perhaps, when things become quiet, we will be able to bring him from Valinor for a visit.”

“Strange.” Her voice became quiet and she stared off into the woods. “My children are allowed to come and go from mine and Haldir’s home at their leisure and I am not. It is not fair, Celeborn.”

“No, it is not, Tithen Aras.” He came to a stop and pulled her to stand in front of him. “But that is not what is on your mind and is not what you wanted to talk to me about. Now, in your words, spit it out, love.”

Bronwyn spent a moment looking at her shoes. The Elf Lord could feel her body bouncing in frustration as she searched for words. And when they came, they came in a rush, a tidal wave of language.

“He isn’t coming back, is he? They really gave me my skills back and that is why. They aren’t going to send him back to me like they let me come back. They are going to let him wait and make me live. And they really aren’t going to let me fade when I find my bow. They are going to make me stay and survive until I get old and grey and decrepit. And alone.”

“You are not alone.”

“And you know what’s really bad?” Finally she looked up, tears building and anger mounting. “This new Guardian? He’s bossy and mean and he tries to push me around and he’s a know it all and a smart aleck. He’s crabby and I don’t even think he likes kids. I’m a pain to him and a bother. But I like him. I don’t want to like him. I want him to help me and go away. Shit. I don’t even want him to help me.”

She was quiet for a minute and Celeborn let her settle her thoughts.

“I’m confused, Celeborn. I’m soul bonded to Haldir. I miss him. I miss him horribly. And yet, I like Severus. He’s crankier and touchier than an old beat up tomcat, but I yearn for his company. I love to watch him over his cauldrons; he has the most awesome hands. They are beautiful. He gets impatient with me, I know, but he knows so much about things I never knew existed and he tries to teach me things. He has the driest sense of humor; he can be quite funny. His voice; ah, his voice sends chills up my spine... NICE chills... when he isn’t yelling at me.” Her face fell. “It is disgusting.”

“Are you afraid of falling in love again?”

“Argh!” Bronwyn snatched her hands from the Elf Lords and punched him on the shoulder. “Aren’t you listening? I don’t want to like him. Who said anything about love? I think he kissed me! I don’t remember!”

Celeborn smiled impishly. “You DON’T remember? Child! You are horny. I can take care of that while I’m here...”

He got punched again.

“I like your wife too much.” He opened his arms to her and she stepped into his embrace. “Oh, Celeborn, What am I going to do?”

He stroked the wild curls leaning against his chest. “You feel guilty for enjoying another’s company. Do you have dreams of Haldir?”

“Sometimes.” Her voice was muffled in his robes. “Sometimes.”

“And?”

“He holds me like this. Strokes me. Tells me to trust the New Guardian.”

“Then listen to him.” He hooked a finger under her chin and lifted it. “Listen to your heart. Both of them. Cormmin - Your Heart. But also...” and here, he tapped her above her left breast, “... your heart.” He kissed her brow. “It will be fine. I promise.” He thumbed her tears away and she smiled at him.

“I miss talking to you. I really do.”

“I miss it to, Tithen Aras. I must make amends and come more often.” His eyes shifted up suddenly and he narrowed them, looking into the darkening forest. Bronwyn did not noticed his body stiffening, in warning. “You can always talk to Amadeus...”

“Talk to Amadeus? He can’t talk back!” she said giggling, not seeing the hardening set of his jawline.

“He can listen, Tithen Aras. You would be surprised what that wolf of yours can do.” Quickly, without startling her, he drew her back from the edge of the woods where they had been walking and moved back towards the castle. “It is dark, maelamin. I have brought wine from Valinor. Perhaps you and I and several of your new friends would like to enjoy it.”

***

Severus and Albus met them at the front doors. Celeborn sent her ahead, with a request to invite several to her chambers. Both Elf and Wizards watched her as she bounced around the corner, heading towards chambers up the stairs. As soon as she was out of sight, he fixed serious eyes on the two Wizards.

“In the past week, I have had three Elves disappear. I worry not only for their safety, but their lives and sanity. And, she and I were being watched from the woods.”

He took a deep breath, fixating Severus in his gaze.

“They know why she is here.”

***

tbc

***