Inglor and Haleth rode into the valley of Rivendell in the middle of a spring afternoon. Tender leaves unfurled upon branch and bough. Birds fluttered from tree to tree, declaring their joy in the promise of the season. High clouds danced across the sky, casting an ever-changing pattern of darkness and light upon the valley.

Inglor looked magnificent, his blond hair flying in the wind, his face shining in the sunlight. Haleth tried to make herself as small as possible and hoped no one would recognise her.

The music of the waterfalls of Rivendell seemed to have faded since her last visit. Even the sun was not as bright as she remembered it. The tides of time were washing over one of the last elven refuges in Middle-earth, dragging it into the murky light of the Fourth Age.

If this bothered Inglor at all he did not allow Haleth to see it. He looked like one of the elven princes of old, tall and perilously fair.

Perilous would be the right word if Haleth could not learn to control herself. In the past, the elves of Rivendell had tolerated her on Elrond's insistence. That insistence was currently on Tol Eressëa. They might continue to respect his opinion out of deference, but only if she behaved herself.

Openly longing for Inglor would not be seen as proper. The object of her affections might be too distracted to notice, but Haleth doubted the half-elven sons of Elrond would be oblivious of her attraction to him. She grimly resolved to hold all of her wayward emotions in check for the duration of their visit.

A clear voice cried in welcome as they led their horses over the last bridge. Inglor answered the salutation, warmth and merriment bubbling from him. It made Haleth's head spin.

"Let me hold the horses. You go and greet your kinfolk," she said.

"I want you to come along with me," he said. He grabbed her hand and dragged her behind him. She carefully studied the toes of her boots.

"Inglor," one of Elrond's sons was there. If he was going to order Haleth out of Rivendell at least he could do it quickly. "We hadn't thought to see you again so soon. You've brought some unexpected company."

Haleth made a low bow, avoiding his keen, grey eyes.

"Indeed, Lord Elladan," Inglor answered. "We are in need of your help."

Haleth could never understand how anyone could tell the twin sons of Elrond apart. Yet the elves seemed to manage it with ease.

"And you shall have it," Elladan smiled at Inglor. "But you are weary from your journey. Rooms will be prepared and there will be a feast tonight."

Several alarm bells went off in Haleth's head.

"Come with me, Inglor and tell me what has passed you since you were last in Rivendell." Elladan's voice was light but his eyes bored into Haleth. Even with her gaze lowered she could feel their piercing examination. She willed herself invisible and fervently wished he would turn his attention elsewhere.

There was a brief silence. She looked up to find all of the elves looking at her expectantly.

"You go ahead, Inglor," she squeaked. "I'll just take the horses to the stables."

"No," Elladan said firmly, "You are our guest as well. You should rest. Celebedhel will show you to your room."

The tone of his voice told her she had better remain there.

~*~

Haleth paced the length of her small room, listening to the birds' evensong. She had thanked the elf who had shown her to her room and closed the door as quickly as politeness allowed. Once alone, she immediately begun to prowl its length and back like a large cat confined in too small of a cage. The pacing was briefly interrupted by a bath. 

Two dresses had been laid out for Haleth on her return to her room; one of a form-fitting, dark green silk that suited her to perfection, the other a plain, loose-fitting grey wool that washed out her complexion. Imagining this to be some sort of test, she immediately seized upon the grey dress.

Celebedhel, who, much to Haleth's relief was quite taciturn, returned once. She had found Haleth attacking her hair with a comb and had silently and efficiently taken it and arranged the hair into a very flattering style.

It had taken one startled glimpse of her reflection in a goblet of water to instigate Haleth in a round of hair style destruction. She replaced the rejected but elegant braids with severe and unflattering knot.

Now she paced again, up and down the length of the room like a convict awaiting the hangman. That situation might have been easier than this one. At least she would have felt obliged to try to escape instead of waiting for the worst.

Evening was passing. One by one the birds quieted as the shadows lengthened. Haleth was beginning to hope that she had been forgotten.

A soft knock at the door dashed that hope and sent her heart into her throat.

"Who's there?" she called, her voice breaking.

The knock was repeated.

She opened the door in time to have Elladan's fist almost connect with her nose. At least she assumed it was Elladan.

"The feast is ready and you are expected," he said simply. "I would like to have a private word with you first. Please come along."

Haleth swallowed hard and fell into step with him.

"Why are you here?" he asked.

"Because Inglor brought me," she answered truthfully.

"And where will you go?"

"To help him complete the task he has set for himself," she said simply.

"And?"

"And?" she echoed.

"Are there any other tasks you may need to accomplish?" Haleth imagined that his voice was tinged with the slightest hint of suspicion.

"Do not worry, Lord Elladan," she said severely. "I will keep my hands off of the family silverware. You've never had to anything to fear from me, for all that others name me a thief."

He regarded her calmly.

"None of the folk of Rivendell have ever named you thief, lady."

Haleth snorted and imagined they had actually named her something far less polite.

"Do you know who Inglor is?" he asked in an unexpected change of subject.

"An elf," Haleth answered quickly.

Elladan shook his head, exasperated by her deliberate obtuseness.

"The meal will be in there," he said, pointing to a door Haleth had never gone through before. "I will be along shortly. Mind the family silverware."

The feast was not in the large banquet room that had been used in earlier times. The folk of Rivendell were much diminished, many of the High Elves having left with Elrond. There were only a dozen of them in the hall when Haleth entered the room. Inglor was nowhere in evidence. She selected an empty corner away from the table and stationed herself in it, her arms crossed, her shoulders hunched and her eyes stubbornly trained on the floor.

"Hello," said a friendly elvish voice.

"Greetings," replied Haleth. She forced a quick, thin smile to her lips and glanced at the person who had spoken. She was a dark-haired, grey-eyed elf. She looked at Haleth with open curiosity.

"I am Daewen," the elf said by way of introduction. "I am one of Queen Evenstar's ladies."

"I am known as Haleth," Haleth answered.

"You are Inglor's companion?"

Haleth felt her ears starting to burn.

"I travel with him," she admitted.

"The food will soon be served," said Daewen. "Please allow me to show you to your seat."

"Thank-you," Haleth answered faintly.

She was seated near the extreme left of the table between two elves who had been talking merrily until her arrival. Her presence effectively killed the conversation.

"Excuse me," she said, and seated herself with her back ramrod straight and her hands folded on her lap. She watched her place-setting intently until she remembered that she had been warned away from the silverware. Then her gazes darted around the room for some other, less sensitive target for her glassy-eyed stare. To her dismay, nothing was available.

"This is Haleth," said Daewen, who was seated to the right of Haleth's silent neighbour, tried to draw the woman out of herself.

"Haleth, this is Guilin and this is Saeros."

"Pleased to make your acquaintance," Haleth mumbled.

"You're Inglor's accomplice, aren't you?" asked Guilin.

"I travel with him," she said. Accomplice certainly sounded like a guilty occupation, though guilty in a different way than companion.

The painful conversation died an early death when Elladan, accompanied by Inglor, entered the room. The company immediately rose to their feet, Haleth a fraction of a second behind the others.

The newcomers took their places. Haleth, who was facing west, placed her hand over her heart and bowed. The elves seemed to take no notice.

They sat down and the food began to arrive. The conversation at Haleth's end of the table was distinctly lacking.

Haleth had just put a mouthful of legumes into her mouth when Guilin said, "Tell me, Haleth, is it true that Inglor gave you his T'Ang?"

Haleth snorted. Several of the half-chewed peas were drawn into the back of her nose. She immediately covered her mouth with her hand and began to cough. Most of the rebellious peas were sucked into her windpipe and next she began to choke. She grasped the edges of the table and half rose in her seat, coughing and gagging. The elves watched her with fascination.

The legumes flew out of her throat and landed on her plate. One was still stubbornly lodged in her nose. Someone helpfully slapped her on the back. With a whoosh of airpower, the pea sailed out of her nose, accompanied by a quantity of blood. It landed on her plate with a forlorn, audible splat.

The room fell completely silent; even the ever-present roar of the waterfalls was muffled.

"Is this some unknown human custom?" Guilin finally asked.

"Maybe we should all try it to make our guest feel at home?" Saeros volunteered.

Haleth imaged a servant entering the room to a barrage of nasally aimed legumes.

"No, no," she said, holding her bleeding nose. "It was a mistake. If you good people would kindly excuse me." she stood to leave. Inglor half-stood. A quick flash of pain passed across his face and he sat back down again. Haleth, half way to the door, did not notice this.

"You will join us in the Hall of Fire later?" Elladan asked. It was phrased as a question but had the air of an order. She paused at the door and bowed to him, blood dribbling over her fingers.

"I am yours to command," she said. She hurried to her room, a trail of blood making her passage.