Betas: Many thanks to my betas Moreth and Istarnie.

Disclaimer: I am playing in Tolkien’s sandbox and not making any money from it.

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Chapter 1

How many yéni had it been since she last had to build a fire on her own? Eighty? Ninety? She could not remember.

Scrounging about the entrance to the cave, she found many twigs and small branches, casualties of the strong wind which tormented the mountain this winter. Fortunately they were enough for her to start a small fire and dry out the larger pieces of wood she discovered on her venture outside.

She desperately ached from injury and the cold, but she dared not stop to examine her own wounds, for her companion’s were far greater. Their horses were lost to them, so she was their only hope – what pitifully small hope that was.

Once the fire struggled into a blaze, she turned to the nér lying nearby. Kneeling beside him, she covered her mouth with her still numb fingers, breathing on them to warm them yet hiding behind them, too. It had been so many millennia since last she saw a nér wounded so. Where was she to begin?

Taking a deep breath, she steeled her resolve and began the task of treating him. Not since the Day before days had she undressed a grown nér. Not since the night before her husband had parted from her to join his son and grandsons in exile. She had not even had the opportunity to prepare her husband’s body for burial when he died two ages of Anar ago.

The nér now haplessly in her care was not her husband.

In all likelihood, she would never see her husband alive again for he had traded his own chance at new bodily life so his first wife could return to life. Now in his stead, the one with whom she had continuously contended in memory and fëa for a place in his heart walked Arda once again. She shook her head to clear her thoughts of the bitter anger she still felt after all this time, bringing her mind back to the task at hand.

With the utmost care, she smoothed silky golden hair soaked with snow and blood away from his face. The cuts on his face and scalp were not deep, but they had bled much. Gently she proceeded to remove the layers of his torn clothing, revealing additional sources of his bleeding. The fair tender skin of his broad shoulders, both arms, slender hips, taught thighs, and knees all bore grievous cuts and dark bruises from the tumble down the side of the mountain. She knew her own body fared little better (that was certainly how it felt to her!), but at least she had awoken and managed to pull him out from beneath the snow.

As she had dragged his unconscious body to the nearest cave she could find, she realized he was much heavier than expected. What little attention she paid to him over the yéni, he always seemed so prim and tall and full of the proper lithesome grace of a Vanya noble. Therefore she believed the extra weight was because of his snow-sodden garments, but upon exposing his body, she now understood the real reason why. His form was much more muscular than most neri of the Vanyar.

She knew he was from Cuiviénen as was she, but she did not recall him bathing in the lake with the other neri. She felt her face flush as she admitted to herself that she most certainly would have noticed a nér with a build such as his! But then again, at that time she only had eyes for Finwë. Poor Lord Huoro, who suffered her ministrations now, could have swum beside her at every bathing and she would not have noticed him for the attention her eyes lavished upon Finwë. She never noticed anyone but Finwë back then, and now that he was gone, seemingly forever, she no longer cared to look upon anyone.

From first-hand accounts (as well as many songs and tales), she also knew that Lord Huoro had fought in the War of Wrath alongside her youngest son and her brother-sons, distinguishing himself many times upon the field of battle. Upon her returning to live once again with her brother after the end of the war, this mighty warrior, her brother’s chief counselor and closest friend, always served as her escort when she traveled in Aman or dutifully attended social gatherings. So consumed was she by her grief and worry for her children and a thousand other things which all weighed heavily upon her fëa, she never paid Huoro any mind until now. Now she owed her life to a constant companion whom she hardly seemed to know.

As she cleansed Lord Huoro’s magnificent body with his sopping wet shirt, she wondered why he remained unwed. With a face as pleasing to behold as his, many a nís must swoon at his passing. Duty bound him to watch over her outside of the city, but why had he never bound himself to a most fortunate nís of his own?

With a pang of guilt she realized Huoro’s beauty was marred because of her, for he had selflessly wrapped himself around her, shielding her with his body when the first rumblings of the avalanche began. Did duty really require this of him?

Bowing her head, she brushed away warm tears with her chilled hands. Over-protective Ingwë thought she needed an escort, but she certainly did not feel this way. Perhaps the sister of the high king of the Eldar deserved such devoted attentiveness, but not the scandalous second wife of a deceased, never-to-return Noldorin king. Lady Indis was not worth this sacrifice. She was not worth this sacrifice.

Tearing strips from the hem of her dress, she gently bound his injuries, including some ribs she believed to be broken. After wearily tying the last bandage, she realized he shivered in his sleep from the cold. Her own hands trembled badly as she placed more wood on the fire. Heat from the fire and her own aching body as well as her mostly dry clothes were all she had to offer him, so that was what she gave. Removing her clothing, she snuggled close to him, covering both his body and her own with her dress and her cloak. A few times, he moaned, struggling against some unseen foe, but her whispered songs of the peaceful beauty of Cuiviénen and of the warm Light of the Two Trees soothed his restlessness. By the time she succumbed to her own weariness and pain, his cheek rested against the top of her head, his body nestled close to hers.

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Softly the lilt of the lirulin winged its way into his uneasy mind, calming his spirit like a balm. He remembered the songs from Cuiviénen, feeling the tension take flight, releasing him from the turmoil raging within him. How would it have felt to see that place by the light of the Two Trees? Or by the lights of Anar and Isil?

Lying in the grass beside the lake, he could smell the flowers and feel a presence by his side. How long had it been since he had last known the nearness of another?

With a contented sigh, he nuzzled closer to the one beside him. He had forgotten how wonderful the warmth of another body could feel.

After a few moments, he decided to roll over and see who his fond memories had graced his imagination with today. Would it be his amillë? She and his atar used to lie with him after bathing and talk about the adventures of the day and the needs of the morrow’s hunt. Or was it his younger sisters, curled up beside him to sleep in the protective crook of his arms and on his chest? He would need to move the one on his chest soon for it was becoming difficult to breathe.

He inhaled more deeply, gasping at the discomfort and trying to dislodge the sister who obviously had snuggled too close. The flowers he smelled were not those that the women of his family favored.

It had to be her then.

Was the one that he loved lying nearby with her golden hair graced about her as if Yavanna’s flowers in the field grew in a garland just for her? How he longed to reach out to touch her, but he knew her heart was claimed by another, so he dare not.

He shifted again, trying to dislodge the rock stabbing him in the back and the stick stabbing him in the side, but to no avail. Why as he lying on a bed of gravel? Normally he dreamt of lying in the grass beside the lake.

Still he could sense the warmth and smell her glorious scent.

Would his imagination allow him to touch her just this once? Or would he forever be held back by propriety and not even allow himself dreams of what he could never have?

Why did he always do this to himself? This dream was his! And even if he could never hold her in truth, at least he could allow himself this indulgence.

Rolling on his side toward the warmth, he extended an unusually leaded hand to caress her fine form -- and daggers lanced through his chest.

His eyes snapped open, focusing immediately on the prone form of Lady Indis at his side! Recoiling as if he had been struck, he scrambled away to a proper distance, then immediately leaned back toward her when he realized what he was seeing. His trembling fingers hovered over the dried blood matting her hair and then over the dark bruises scattered across her pale skin and a few cuts which still faintly oozed.

He had failed.

When he heard the avalanche coming, he had done all he could to protect her with his own body. He knew he was strong and a skilled fighter, yet it had not been enough. When the snows and the rocks came crashing down the mountain, he was no match for them. Clutching her as tightly as he could, he had wrapped himself around her to break the fall and take the worst of the damage upon himself.

Yet here she lay bruised and bleeding beside him.

He had failed.

King Ingwë entrusted him with the protection of his beloved sister. King Arafinwë trusted him to keep his amillë safe. Over the millennium, he, Lord Counselor Huoro, had shielded her from the comments and the gossip which ever followed her in her life as second wife of the widower King Finwë and in the scandals which culminated in Finwë’s death and the rebellion of the Noldor. Yet here she lay.

He had failed his king. He had failed his friend. And worst of all, he had failed her.

His head ached fiercely as nausea fought to overtake him. Gasping for breath that did not want to come, he sat up straight and very still until his control returned. Carefully lifting his right hand, he ran it across his torso, feeling bandages covering the places that pained him the most.

Bandages?

And where were his clothes?

Casting about in alarm, he saw them spread before the embers of dying fire, a fire which smoldered beside where he and Indis had lain. Dizziness suddenly assailed him, forcing him to lie down on his side with his eyes closed until everything stopped spinning. He had not realized a room could still spin even with his eyes closed!

When calm once again returned, he opened his eyes. Moving his head as little as possible, he looked about, taking stock of the situation.

He was lying mostly naked on the cold floor of a cave close to his dearest friend’s sister, who… also appeared to be naked. Where were her clothes?

Then he realized what had been covering them both.

Angered wonder overtook him. Why had the one who had treated his injuries not treated hers as well? Surely she should have been looked after first! She was of far greater importance than he!

Repeatedly he called out to the one or ones who had brought them to safety in this cave and looked after his wounds. But no one saw fit to answer. Someone needed to look to the Lady!

Where had they gone? Once he and Indis returned to safety, he would be sure to bring the would-be rescuers before the king -- after they answered to him for their negligence in caring for the Lady Indis!

Indis stirred as he yelled. Finally she rolled over, reaching out to him in her sleep. Her hand found his leg and gently she began to caress it, crooning softly as if comforting a child. Startled into silence, he lay still, completely amazed at the comfort to be found in such a simple gesture. Her sleep soon deepened once again and her hand, regretfully to him, slipped off of his leg and onto the cold stone floor.

After a time his patience with the lack of rescuers wore thin and he resolved to take care of the Lady himself. Strengthened by his growing ire at their irresponsibility, he rolled and pushed himself up onto his hands and knees. His lungs seared and pain lanced through his left arm all the way to his shoulder, refusing to support his weight. Pressing his arm close to his stomach as he slowly inched toward Indis.

With the utmost respect and care, he removed the dress and cloak which still partially covered her prone body.

Even lying in such a state, she was still as beautiful to him as she had been in Cuiviénen. Tenderly, he ran his fingers along her body front and back, examining her injuries. Despite the bruising and small cuts which covered much of her, he found no broken bones nor grave injury, much to his relief. He had managed to protect her from that at least. Noticing his own bloody shirt nearby, he found a sleeve which was still damp and clean, so, for lack of anything better, he used it to cleanse the blood from her body. Unable to contort his own body enough around his injuries to tear strips of cloth for bandages for her, he growled in frustration. There simply was nothing more he could do for her!

Gently, he draped her with her clothes for warmth. Then using up much of his remaining strength, he placed the last of the wood and coaxed the fire back to life. Repeatedly he looked to the mouth of the cave, but still no one had come. The light outside was fading rapidly, casting long shadows upon the snowy ground.

Then the horrible realization struck him. Perhaps no one was going to come after all! What if she had been the rescuer? What if she had been the one to see to his injuries? After all, she had been the one who held him close, warming him with her own body. He looked with amazement and admiration on her beloved body resting before him. It was no wonder she slept so if she had dragged his unconscious body all the way here – wherever here was.

One of the very very few things he had longed for and desired above all else, but had been denied for more yéni than he cared to remember had just been granted to him – and he slept right through it!

He smiled in exasperation and delight. For the first time since he had known her, she had taken care of him! Of course it was probably out of a sense of obligation or perhaps even gratitude and nothing more, but she had touched him and cared for him and… she had held him in her arms!

An icy wind stole through the cave causing him to shiver uncontrollably. His clothes still lay on the other side of the fire, but he did not care at the moment. She had held him!

Dismissing propriety for once, he leaned toward her, pressing his lips to a part of her forehead which was not cut, then ventured down to lightly kiss her perfect lips.

Dizziness assailed him once again amidst the stabbing in his chest and the edges of his vision tinging red and brown. He knew he would not remain conscious much longer. As the last of his strength gave way, he slumped down beside her, awkwardly shifting them both until he could breathe. Draping his swollen, useless left arm over her side, he pressed close against her for warmth.

Sighing in her sleep, she unconsciously moved closer to him, cuddling beneath the shelter of her dress and cloak which they both shared once again. Lovingly, he placed one last kiss in her hair, then let himself go and left this dream for another one.

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Betas: Many thanks to my betas Moreth and Istarnie.

Disclaimer: I am playing in Tolkien’s sandbox and not making any money from it.

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Chapter 2

The scent of roasting meat woke him. His head throbbed and his chest ached, yet he sighed in relief. Rescuers obviously had come!

Opening his eyes, he tried to turn onto his side to lever himself up, but his chest was met with a force firmly opposing this action. Looking over, he saw Indis kneeling beside him, her hands pressing against his breast, concerned relief on her face.

“Rest, Lord Huoro,” she softly commanded. “We are safe. Please, be at peace.”

He allowed her to gently push him back down. Her warm hands lingered momentarily on his bare chest before moving to stroke his hair away from his face. He noticed she wore her dress once again.

“I feared for you,” she whispered. “We were caught in an avalanche. I dug us out and brought you here. I know all of the caves on Taniquetil from my wanderings. I treated your injuries as best I could. You have slept for three days. How do you feel?”

“My Lady,” his voice wavered uncertainly. How was he to reply to her? He had touched her, held her close to him. He had kissed her! How could he possibly face her now? How could he even speak to her? But then again, she did not know. Shamefully, he turned his head away so she could not see his face.

“Huoro?” She asked, her voice full of concern. Then she spluttered tearfully, taking his right hand in both of hers and drawing it to her lips. “Are you all right? I…I did all I could for you. I swear I did. I bandaged your wounds. I wrapped your broken ribs and I put a splint on your left arm. I did not realize it was broken at first, but I fear that it is. I have nothing to give you for pain, but I have tried to keep you warm. It is my fault that this happened to you. I am so very sorry. I……Please tell me that you are all right. ”

Her fault?!

He looked over at her in disbelief. “My Lady Indis, how could this possibly be your fault?”

She cast down her sorrowful gaze. “I am the one who chose the path we took down the mountain. I am the one who insisted on going to visit my son for Midwinter. If I had stayed…If I had followed the common path down the mountain…this would not have happened.” She paused for a moment. “Why did you try to shield me with your body as we fell? What could you possibly have hoped to gain by doing that?”

His heart constricted with her grief. Gently, he extended the fingers of the hand she still held and wiped the tears which were within reach. “You did not cause the avalanche,” he reassured. “It was my duty and my honor to protect you or to die trying as it has always been my duty and my honor to look after you since you returned to dwell with my king. You have not erred in desiring to see your son nor in the path you chose for us. If I had had any misgivings about the path or the journey I would have said as much and counseled otherwise.”

“Duty does not require of you that you risk your life on my behalf!”

“In my mind it does,” he replied.

She shook her head sadly. “I am not worth this. You should have let me die and freed yourself from the burden of following me around for two ages of Anar.”

Reassuringly, he clutched her hand tighter in his. “Hear me, my Lady. You are worth this! You are no burden to me. Your brother and your son honor me by entrusting your safety and well being to me.” You won my heart long ago. I would follow you anywhere! He longed to scream to her, but dare not. “If anything, I have failed you. I did not foresee any danger upon the road. I could not properly treat your injuries because I could not tear bandages, though I did all I could to protect you from harm in the fall.”

She smiled. “You have not failed me, Huoro, not at all. You always were able to comfort me with your words. And you spared me serious injury in the avalanche at great cost. Does your head pain you?”

He smiled back. “My head does hurt, but my brain is not addled. I awoke for a time while you slept. I cleaned your wounds, but my left arm would not cooperate in assisting me, so I was unable to do more than wash the blood from your body.”

Her eyes widened in alarm as she blushed with embarrassment. “Then you…” Dropping his hand, she hid her face in her hands and turned away from him.

Feeling his own face flush as well, he paused to calm himself amidst the awkwardness before reaching out to her. He took a few breaths, trying to figure out what to say before settling on, “We bathed together often in Cuiviénen and have swum together with others many times since then. We had no healer so you cared for my wounds as I attempted to care for yours. We lay together beneath the dry things left to us to keep warm.” She finally turned toward him, her face scarlet as he finished. “There is no shame in this.”

She looked long on him before replying, “If there is no shame, then why does your own face flush crimson?”

He inhaled to speak… but could not think of anything to say! He had much reason to be ashamed, but he did not dare tell her! His usual eloquence failing him completely when he needed it most, he covered his own face with his hand and turned his head away in a futile attempt at hiding.

Exhaling sharply, he gasped in startled agony and clutched his side. Immediately he felt her hands on his side, as well. “I am so very sorry,” she apologized. “There is naught to be done for broken ribs, but to bind them and rest.”

He squeezed his eyes shut, wishing she would leave him alone, but she remained, her hands moving from his side to his face once again, smoothing aside hair that was not bothering him in any way. Finally he grumbled through clenched teeth, “Please leave me, Lady Indis. When the rescuers return, I do not want them to see us together so. It will be scandalous enough if they initially found us lying together. I cannot protect you from anything that might be said when word of that reaches others in the city. I have defended your honor many times to those who would slander it after you married Finwë, and later after the rebellion of the Noldor in which so many of your children took part. There will be naught I can do when rumors arise about us because of this unfortunate accident.”

“Lord Huoro, of what rescuers do you speak?” Indis sounded worried. “No one has come for us. No one has found us. Tonight we will be missed when we do not arrive in Tirion. Tomorrow, my son will send out someone to look for us. In all likelihood, my brother knows of this avalanche, but he does not know that I was affected by it. The trail we took is seldom used, so I doubt that my brother has sent out any search parties. It will be a day and half or two days before Ingwe, too, knows we are missing and then he will begin to search for us. I know not how long it will take for anyone to find us at that point for we fell far from the path and our horses were swept away.”

“What of the cooking meat?” he asked irritably, gesturing toward the fire.

“I caught that rabbit myself!” She exclaimed pointing at the roasting meat. “How dare you assume that just because I was once a queen, I forgot how to survive away from a city! And…” she viciously stabbed him in the center of his chest with her finger. “What ever made you think that I wanted or needed you to defend my honor? Did my doting brother order it? I am not some weak or fragile blossom that wilts at the first coming of frost! I am stronger than a mountain oak and you would do well to remember it!”

“Indis!” He cried in exasperation. Taking her hand in his own -- her hand seemed so small engulfed in his—he pressed it close to his chest over his heart. “Indis, please,” His voice softened considerably as he pleaded. “Indis, please. Forgive me for my misgivings and concerns. I am…I just…” He sighed, but remembered to stop short of hurting his ribs again. “I know you are not weak. You are a great nís, perhaps the greatest nís I have ever known. I have never questioned that, nor will I ever. Your brother never ordered me to look after your honor. That was a choice I made. His orders only ask that I see to your personal safety, and I have done that to the best of my ability since I humbly and gratefully accepted that charge.”

He paused, a smile stealing across his face as he recalled, “I know you can hunt. You always were excellent at small game. I remember the competitions we used to have on the journey to Aman to see who could obtain the most the fastest and you almost always won. Many a nér was humiliated and humbled by you then. I think your daughters and granddaughters both inherited much of that strength of hroa from you, as well as their strength of fëa.”

She looked on him in wonder. “My brother has stolen two ages of Anar from your life in the dull charge of escorting me in addition to your courtly duties, and yet you admit you voluntarily called even more responsibility for my well-being upon yourself. Why? Do you so enjoy being ignored by me as you dutifully accompany me on my travels? You should have a wife and children of your own and not waste your life trailing after me in my grieving solitude as I visit my children. Why have you not wed?”

Emboldened by the experiences of the last few days and by the lack of searchers or rescuers at the moment, he continued to meet her demanding gaze steadily. “My king has stolen nothing from me, but rather he has gifted me with much more than he ever realized. I have not wed because I long ago gave my heart to one who had already gifted her heart to another. It is not a burden to me seeing you with your children when I have none of my own. I have watched your children blossom into the great níssi and neri that they have become, and I have grown to care for them very much. I am content with my current lot in life, even if it is just to stand by in vigilance.”

She drew his hand back to hold in both of hers in her lap. Smiling apologetically, she replied. “I did not know. I am sorry I never even saw fit to notice your solitude before, let alone to ask. You already know that I understand how you feel having given my heart to one who already held another. In my bitterness, all I can say is that you are more blessed than I, for I won my love’s heart for a time, only to lose it again to his first love. And now I am alone and doomed to remain so.” She pressed his hand to her lips in a gesture of tender sympathy. “Perhaps, my gallant defender, you will find another to win your love and make you her own. The path I trod was dangerous and it led to more pain that I ever could have imagined.” Lowering her hands, she gently traced his bandages with one hand while continuing to hold his hand with the other. Softly she added almost for her hearing only, but not quite. “The paths I tread are too often dangerous it seems.”

She bowed her head as tears slipped down her cheeks, and hid her face in her hands.

Mustering his strength, Huoro carefully sat up and drew her into the warm shelter of his one-armed embrace. Her tears soaked his bandages as he steadfastly held her, stroking her head with his chin, pressing his lips to the softness of her hair. She moved her head against him and before he realized what was happening, his lips were on hers, comforting, pleading, demanding, and being met every moment by hers.

When he could no longer breathe, he reluctantly drew back, avoiding her bright eyes.

What had he done?!

She covered her mouth with her hands, looking surprised and dismayed. “Huoro, I…I am so…I do not know what…I…”

“Indis, forgive me, I…”

Ready to die of shame, he lay back, covering his face with his arm. By the Valar, what had he just done? Thousands of years of control lost in one tender moment! What had he done?

He had just betrayed a most sacred trust. How could he face Indis after this? How could he face his king and dearest friend again? What was he to do?

Despite his resistance, he felt his arm being pushed away from his face. Unwilling to meet her gaze for shame, he kept his eyes closed. He felt movement beside him and then softness settling on his shoulder and warmth pressed up against his side. He opened his eyes when he felt her hand on his face turning his head to meet -- to his very great surprise -- her blushing gaze.

Her hand stroked his cheek, as she studied his face. “I…I do not know how to ask you this. But considering what just happened between us, I…Huoro, my dear protector, is it I? Am…am I the one? Am I the one you have loved all this time?”

Looking away for a few moments, he struggled to gather his thoughts. Did he dare tell her? He had told no one for all of these yéni. All this time he was the only one who knew. And he was content, blessed with her frequent presence and companionship even if she admittedly hardly seemed to notice. Did he dare risk all and tell her? But then, had he not just betrayed everything with that kiss? Gathering what was left of his dignity and courage, he felt his face flush as he met the glorious silvery grey of her eyes once again.

“Yes, my beloved Lady Indis” he whispered, baring his heart for the spear of rejection he knew was surely to come. “I have loved you since Cuiviénen. Even when you married Finwë, I wished you well. I mourned when you lost him for the grief I saw in you. If anything, your sorrow made you more beautiful to me and I loved you even more. I have been blessed with thousands of years of looking after you and seeing to your safety and well-being. I love you and will always love you.”

For an eternity he waited after he finished speaking, but the vicious blow never came.

Long she looked upon him, then without a word, she nestled into his shoulder, pulling the cloak over the two of them for warmth. Placing her arm protectively over his chest, she softly began to sing to him of Cuiviénen of the joys of the hunt, the beauty of the stars, and the cleansing warmth of the lake.

Later, in smiling silence she served him his meal, then returned to his side and slept that night in the safety and warmth of the crook of his arm.

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to be continued...

Chapter 3

The next two days they spent lying together, sharing stories and memories, exchanging soft touches and tender kisses. At dawn of the third day after he had declared his love, she bathed him again with snow-soaked rags. He would have protested the cold, but for the fire which burned in him when she touched his skin. Gently she removed his old bandages, replacing them with new strips from her dress and from his robes. Then she reluctantly (though she did not tell him how she felt) helped him to dress again.

When searchers found them the evening of the third day, they were reclined on opposite sides of the fire, fully clothed and idly chatting.

At first light, they began the journey back to Ingwë’s palace, a journey made slower by the rugged terrain and the discovery that Huoro’s supposedly sprained ankle was actually broken. Throughout their travels, Indis kept herself a safe and proper distance from Huoro, seldom speaking to him though they each stole glances at the other often.

The reunion with Ingwe and Arafinwë at the palace was an emotional one – at least on the parts of Ingwe and Arafinwë it was. Patiently Indis endured the embraces and insistence on stories detailing her trials, but all the while her thoughts were on Huoro.  At long last, she convinced her kin to allow her some rest.

Accompanied by Arafinwë, who refused to allow her to walk to her rooms alone, she entered Huoro’s sitting room. The two anxious healers told her he slept fitfully from the pain draught they had given him an hour before. Quietly, she went to his bedside. Taking his right hand in hers, she held it as she sang songs of Cuiviénen which had calmed him before. In his sleep, he breathily whispered “my lirulin” before he finally settled into a deep peaceful sleep.

“Amillë,” Arafinwë whispered over her shoulder in wonder. “It has been a long time since I last heard you sing those songs. I had forgotten them. How did you know they would calm him?”

Fearing she would betray her feelings in front of her son, she carefully answered. “I knew the Lord Huoro in Cuiviénen and on the march to Aman. We reminisced to pass the time in the cave. I owe him my life, my son. What comfort I can provide to him, I will.” Reaching over, she patted her son’s hand where it rested on her shoulder. “I am weary and need to rest now.”

Rising, they made their way out of his rooms. As they rounded the corner to the corridor leading to her suite, they heard rapid footsteps and the swish of dresses behind them.

“Is my son here? We were told he lies within. Take me to him now!” a deep-voiced nér demanded accompanied by feminine sobs and the soft voice of a nís wailing, “My Huoro!” 

When they reached her own rooms, Arafinwë stopped her in her sitting room. “Amillë, we owe Lord Huoro much for all that he has done in protecting you and caring for you. I will speak with Ingwë on how we may honor him for protecting our dear treasure.”

She smiled tiredly, embracing her son. “I do not believe that Lord Huoro will accept anything from either of you. He believes he does nothing more than his duty to his king and friends in looking after me.”

“I know,” Arafinwë replied. “For all that he does and has done for you over the ages, we owe him much.”

“Oh Amillë! I am so relieved that you are safe. I rode out here as fast as I could after you were past due arriving in Tirion. I do not know what I would do if I were to lose you, too. I do not think I could bear it.”

Pulling back, she put her hands on her son’s face, then stood on her toes while pulling him down so she could kiss his forehead. “I love you very much, my little one. But please do not worry for me. I am stronger than you realize and my protector is much greater than I knew. You have no reason to fear for me.”

“Even still,” he smiled, “I am staying here tonight. If you need anything at all Amillë, I will be sitting out here. Eärwen arrives tomorrow bringing Nerdanel and Anairë with her. Findis is quite pleased that we will be celebrating MidWinter here instead of in Tirion.”

Indis nodded, her mind already working on how she might be able to arrange a visit with Huoro alone in spite of the arrivals of his family and hers. “Good night, my son.”

“Good night, Amillë.” And he settled down in a chair, humming the last song she had sung to Huoro.

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None of her plans for visiting with Huoro alone worked. Whenever she entered his rooms, she found them occupied by one of his sisters with a spouse in tow or his parents or all of them. Huoro pleaded weariness to try to convince his kin to leave him alone, but they always made certain that Indis and the healers left him alone as well. She could not even blow him a kiss for fear of someone noticing, so they made do with the exchange of longing glances.

Two days before Midwinter, Indis suggested to Arafinwë that Huoro be invited to celebrate MidWinter with their family in gratitude for the help he gave to her. Ingwë whole-heartedly agreed and quietly suggested to Huoro’s family that they return to their home to celebrate with their kin, promising to take care of their son for them in that time. They were not happy about it, but they complied with the high king’s request.

On the eve of the feast Indis dressed in finer raiment that she had in years. This would be her first celebration with “him” present – at least the first one where she acknowledged his presence and delighted in it. According to him, he had been present at many of the last two thousand of them, but to her lasting shame, she had not noticed.

As she sat brushing her hair, she heard a knock at her door. “Enter!” she called, thinking it to be her maid.

When she turned and saw that it was Huoro, she leaped to her feet and ran to him. Dropping the bundle he carried as well as his crutch, he wrapped her in his right arm, kissing her deeply and holding her close.

“I am surprised that you have come to my chambers,” she said as she drew back to look at him. Reaching up she brushed his unbound hair behind his ears. “You have not braided your hair and you are not dressed for the festivities. Why?” Suddenly fear overtook her. What if he did not plan to attend? What if he wearied already of the great lengths they would have to go to in order to be together?

Lowering his bright eyes, his face flushed red. “My lady, I…I need assistance putting on my clothes and fixing my hair. I cannot work out how to do it one-handed.”

Leveling a scolding look upon him, she shook her head, smiling in relieved amusement. “You could have asked a servant to assist you.”

He grinned sheepishly. “I know. But it is more fun this way. If someone is going to touch me, I would rather it be you.”

With a gentle laugh, she retrieved his things and helped him into the next room, sitting him before her mirror. Amidst much talking and laughing, she managed to dress him in shirt, tunic, and robes around his broken arm and bandaged ribs. When she was finished, she carefully replaced his arm in the fine linen sling, then set to work on his hair. After much debate, mostly on her part, she braided it the way he had originally requested.

“We still have a few minutes before we must depart,” he breathed huskily as he rose to his feet. “Thank you for assisting me.”

“And how does my lord wish to pay me for my services?” she asked, eyeing him coyly as she sauntered up to him.

“Like this,” he whispered as his lips captured hers in the most seductive kiss he had yet managed.

“The way you are shining right now, my beloved, you put me in mind of Laurelin,” he said when at last they broke apart. “You should do so more often, my lady. Joy becomes you beautifully.”

She blushed, bowing her head, completely speechless. He lifted her chin with his finger, but she still could not meet his steady dazzling gaze. Sparing her the necessity of a response, he pressed her head against his chest where his triumphant chuckle softly rumbled.

“Oh my lady, I cannot begin to describe to you how wonderful it feels to finally be able to hold you in my arms and tell you how much I love you. I have waited so long, so very very long for this…”

Wrapping her arms around him, carefully avoiding his broken ribs, she sighed. “Are we doomed to always meet behind closed doors and in total solitude in the wilderness?”

“For me,” he sighed contentedly, “it is enough. I spent thousands of years making do with being your escort and protector, never even hoping to win your attention let alone your affection. Now I have held you and tasted your lips. This is so much more than I had ever hoped for, though I longed for it.”

“What will we do when it is no longer enough?” she asked, her voice muffled by his robes.

“That I do not know. But one question you must ask yourself is what you would do if Finwë were to return from Mandos.” She pulled back, looking up at him in surprised alarm. He caressed her cheek, his hand coming to rest at her chin. “Yes, Indis, we must speak of such things and better to do so now than to wait and possibly break both of our hearts.

“I know you love him and in this, I am your second love as you are his second love. You have already expressed your bitterness at being an abandoned second lover.” He spoke matter-of-factly, no hurt or bitterness ever entering his voice. “But what if he returned and you and I were together? Would you hate me for keeping you from him? Would you despise him if he chose Míriel over you? And what of your children and your kin? Would they rejoice to see you happy once again or will they feel that you have betrayed Finwë? What will the Noldor and the Vanyar think of you, of us? If we were to wed one day, what would become of our children given your past?”

She bowed her head, tears escaping her eyes. He wiped the tears away with his thumb. “Indis, my love, we must consider these things. I am not saying this to pressure you into a decision about anything. You have not even declared your love for me --if indeed what you feel for me goes beyond infatuation.”

She put her fingers on his lips, clearly affronted. “Huoro, you know I feel more than infatuation for you!”

Kissing her fingers, he grasped them in his hand, moving them from his face. “I know what I want to believe to be true, but until you say it, I will not accept it. But Indis, please understand…” He drew her palm to his lips and kissed it. “We have all of the time we need to consider these things and make our choices. I have loved you since our families dwelt side by side at Cuiviénen. I have waited for thousands of years for you to even acknowledge me. I can wait -- I will wait -- thousands more if that is what it takes for you to tell me that you love me and wish to spend whatever may be left of the life of Arda with me.”

She looked into his eyes shining with love for her, then bowed her head. More tears escaped, only to be trapped by his lips as he kissed each one that trailed down her face. Soon his mouth was on hers again, but this time it was she whose lips brazenly demanded with a fierceness that surprised even her.

At last he drew back, clutching his side where his ribs suddenly pained him. Worriedly, she helped him to sit down, her hands on his hand where it covered his ribs. “By the Valar, Indis. What have I awakened in you?” He desperately panted, curling around his pain

She smiled at him triumphantly.

“I must needs heal quickly or your passion will be the death of me.”

She rewarded him with an apologetic kiss.

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Stunned into complete and utter silence, Ingwë and Arafinwë backed out of the sitting room and into the hallway, quietly closing the door. Neither spoke as they walked briskly to the dining room where their families awaited them.

Upon entering the room, their wives met them with kisses of greeting and a glass of wine for each of them.

“Did you find Lord Huoro?” Eärwen asked.

Ingwë and Arafinwë eyed each other warily, then Ingwë cautiously replied, “He was not in his rooms. I am certain he will be along presently.”

“What of Indis?” she asked.

Arafinwë took a deep uncertain breath. “She was still getting ready and should arrive soon.”

“Excellent!” Anairë said. “I am hungry. I hope they arrive soon.

“Ingwë, it was very kind of you to invite Lord Huoro to join us. He has been among us as Indis’ escort for so long, he may as well be counted among the family.”

Ingwë and Arafinwë carefully remained silent, each desperately trying to gauge the thoughts of the other.

“Arafinwë,” Findis said. “Have you noticed how joyful amillë has been since she returned? It is so good to see her smile again and…Did you know, I heard her laugh a few days ago? It was like she used to laugh when atar was alive and we yet dwelt as a family in Tirion. I nearly wept for joy at the sound of it.”

“I agree with Findis,” Nerdanel nodded, taking a sip from her glass. “Perhaps it took a brush with death to finally bring your amillë back to life again.”

“I heard her sing songs of Cuiviénen and the Trees,” Eärwen agreed, grasping Arafinwë’s arm and nuzzling his shoulder with her cheek. “It eases my heart to see joy in her eyes again. I have been worried about her for so very long.”

Releasing breath he did not realize he held, Arafinwë sighed deeply, nodding his understanding and acceptance. “I have to agree with you. Amillë is finally starting to heal. I have seen happiness in her as well which I, too, have long missed.”

Ingwë closed his eyes for a moment before sighing and nodding his assent as well. “I believe we owe our gratitude to Lord Huoro for returning to us the one we have loved and missed for so long.” He reached out and squeezed Arafinwë’s shoulder in affirmation. “For indeed, it is because of him that we have in our lives once again the sister and amillë we so dearly loved and feared lost to us forever. He will always be welcome in my house.”

“And Lord Huoro will always be welcome in mine,” Arafinwë echoed, raising his glass in toast to seal his words. “We owe him much indeed.”

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Terms:

Nis/níssi – female elf (female elves)

Nér/neri/ male elf (male elves)

Amillë – mother

Atar – father

Hroa – body

Fëa – spirit

Laurelin – the golden tree of the Two Trees which used to light Valinor