Haleth sat cross legged beside the fire roaring in the center of her circular tent. A grey trail of smoke drifted up through the opening at the apex of the cloth ceiling. She folded her hands and rested her chin on her knuckles. Closing her weary eyes, she breathed in the smell of the damp wood that popped as flames engulfed the kindling. Her head ached horribly.

"You need to eat." Shela knelt, setting down a trencher with thick, barley pottage and heel of bread.

"The Eldar were very generous with us," Haleth murmured, staring blankly at the rich food. "We have not eaten like this since last summer."

Her stomach tightened at the memory of those last golden days before the threat of the enemy fell over them like a shadow. They had been living in dread for months. Though the attacking hordes had been driven back, Haleth couldn't help wondering when the next surge would come. Pushing the dread to the back in her mind, she tore into the bread greedily. Shela settled down beside her, staring into the flames.

"How do you feel?"

"Better," Shela replied. "Mother did not argue when I gathered my things from her tent. She knows what Rochma will do when he finds out."

Haleth blew out her breath through her nose hotly. "We'll see about that. How far along are you?"

"Only two months." Shela stretched out her bruised legs, pulling her skirts up to her knees to catch the warmth of the fire.

"That gives us some time before you start to show." Haleth tipped her head back as she poured the remaining morsels of grain and boiled onion into her mouth from the trencher.

"I fear it is too late for secrecy. I made the mistake of trusting another with the news. It will be around the entire stockade by morning." Shela slumped her thin shoulders. "I suppose only time will tell now. Though I do feel better knowing I have you on my side."

"Why would you ever think I wouldn't be otherwise?" Haleth asked gently turning to the girl.

Shela tucked a curl of pale yellow hair behind her ear, revealing the ash and grim staining her cheeks. Though she had lost the hopelessness that had haunted her eyes earlier, Shela's face was gaunt and fatigued. Haleth couldn't remember the last time they had talked just the two of them.

"I only found out a few days ago. Haldor had just been slain." Shela's small voice held little inflection. "You had been chosen to take your father's place. The conflict between our houses was ripening, Rochma speaking against you in public even as orcs crowded our gates. I did not know if you would protect me and I did not want to burden you. I am sorry for not trusting you."

Haleth shook her head. "You have nothing to apologize for. I am merely grateful you are safe."

"My lady?"

The girls turned towards the tent flap as Hagar entered, his expression surprised.

"What is it, Hagar?"

"A guest."

Haleth pursed her lips and nodded quietly. "Yes. He said he would be by this evening."

"Who?" Shela asked, looking towards Hagar as another figure followed him into the dusky air of the tent.

The individual pulled back the hood of his cloak, revealing the sharp angles and smirk of the Lord Caranthir. Haleth sensed Shela draw back in a mix of fear and awe. He had slicked back his coarse locks into another tight braid, though he no longer wore his armor. Barely acknowledging Shela or Hagar, Caranthir strode leisurely into the tent, his arrogant gaze lighting onto Haleth.

"Shela, do you mind sitting outside with Hagar for a while?" she asked quietly.

Shela shot Haleth a look of concern before tip toeing past the elf to the tent entrance.

"My lady?" Hagar entreated, eyeing the elf with fatherly concern.

"All is well, Hagar," Haleth answered calmly. "I will call if I need you."

Reluctantly, Hagar retreated into the early spring chill. Caranthir's smirk grew as he took his leather gloves from his hands. Haleth placidly gazed up at him.

"So this is how your people live?" His deep voice rolled over her like thunder. "I half expected the livestock to be housed in here as well. Pigs. A few chickens..."

"We only bring the cows indoors during the dead of winter," Haleth answered, her expression straight and voice without nuance.

Caranthir gave a short chuckle. Haleth inched over in surprise as the lordly elf crouched down next to her. He stared into the fire.

"So we are to recline on the ground?"

"Yes."

Without comment, he sat down with his long legs drawn up and arms resting on his knees. Haleth couldn't help, but study him. He looked so out of his element yet at ease in what she knew had to be alien surroundings for him.

"Do any of your people own proper furnishings?" The question came from him so sincere Haleth couldn't help her laugh.

"My lord, we were driven from our homes. These are temporary arrangements," Haleth replied, hoping such a thing were true.

"So you plan on settling somewhere else?"

"I am not sure. There are complications-"

"The men of your people who oppose you." Caranthir read the situation in an instant.

"It is only one, though he has garnered support from his younger brother and cousins. His father was my father's second."

"What is his claim over your's?"

"The obvious one. He is not so creative. Rochma's mother came from another people who were more barbaric in their way of thinking. Women could not lead and were viewed more as chattel than human beings."

Caranthir was unmoved. "Sounds like something the Edain would conjure. That is his only argument? What do your people think?"

"I have the support of the crowd. Though his theories are starting to pervert some of the other younger men who feel powerless after watching their kin cut down by orcish blades and fishing their mothers from the river."

"What have you done to gain their support?"

Haleth paused, unsure of how to answer such a question with modesty. "I encouraged them at the darkest hour and led the charges into the horde."

"Honorable qualities in a leader of war. But now you must portray one of the most needed aspects." Caranthir turned towards her, training his intense dark glare on her. "As you spoke to me this afternoon is how you must address this Rochma. Candidly, defiantly and without the extreme swings of emotion of your sex. He would most likely exploit such a display."

"Extreme swings of emotion of my sex?" Haleth repeated heatedly. "Don't think I didn't hear you throw your cup of wine at the wall after I left you this afternoon."

"That is exactly what I mean." Caranthir jabbed a finger at her, a grin playing at his mouth, "Strength without the emotion. You must learn to harness your anger to your advantage."

Haleth rolled her eyes, realizing he'd goaded her on to make his point. 

"Why does my fate concern you, my lord? My people are not a great one. We prefer the eaves of the woods and little conversation. We are not like those who seek knowledge from the Eldar nor do we seek the gods of the west."

Caranthir's brow creased in thought. "Perhaps, I have been wrong in my past judgments about some of the Edain."

"I remember my father telling me that the Elf Lord of our lands held little interest or respect for our people. Was he speaking of you?"

"Yes." Caranthir caught her gaze, his voice without emotion. "Your father spoke correctly. However, your stand against the Enemy is credible. Your supplies were scant, your men few, your leader was slain early in the battle and still, here you stand."

Haleth bit her bottom lip. The back of her neck tingled under the smoldering stare of the ellon. It sounded as though he were trying to tell her that he respected her and the Haladin. The thought of earning the deference of such a great lord of the Eldar was cowing, though she would never admit such a thing to Caranthir. She still couldn't give herself permission to stroke his ego.

"What do you advise me to do?"

The question hung in the air. Before Caranthir could answer, a commotion broke outside the tent. Brusque, vehement shouts rose in the air. Haleth and Caranthir stood and bounded towards the door of the tent. Caranthir remained in the shadows, pulling his hood over his head to hide his identity from the growing crowd. Haleth felt Caranthir lay a steadying, secretive hand on the middle of her back. 

Rochma was circling Hagar where he stood protectively before Shela.

"So that is our upstart, the cocky brute with the knife." Caranthir whispered roughly into her hair. "Remember, harness your anger."

Haleth swallowed back the rage as Rochma met her eyes and sneered.

"So you intended to harbor my kin from me, girl?" He challenged. "This is a family matter and nothing to do with you. You have overstepped your bounds as chieftain already, abusing your power."

"Rochma." Haleth took a step out into the open, meeting his glare without trepidation. "I suggest you leave my sister-in-law in peace."

"Sister-in- law?" Rochma scoffed, turning to his supporters with a chuckle. "We all know that to be a bold faced lie. This girl never married your brother and here she stands, a victim of your brother's shame."

"So you would kill her?"

"It is the only thing that will erase the smudge on our house's honor."

"Rochma." Haleth came boot to boot with him, ignoring the keen blade of the knife in his hand. "Again, I say you have no hand in this. Shela was married in secret to my brother before the battle."

"And you expect us to believe such a falsehood?"

Hagar loyally stepped forward. "It is true, Rochma. I oversaw the ceremony myself."

"You threaten the life of my kin." Haleth spoke in a low, harsh whisper. "You threaten the life of my dead brother's unborn heir. Rochma, you have overstepped your bounds before our people."

With a predatory baring of teeth, Rochma licked his meaty lips. "What gives you the right to speak, woman? Who has made you chieftain of our people?"

"The people have chosen me," she replied with confidence.

Rochma laughed cruelly. "Is that so?"

"Yes, it is. You were there."

"I believe you merely feel entitled as the whore of an elf princeling," Rochma accused sharply. "What did you give him in return for his support, child?"

Before Haleth could reply, the heavily cloaked and imposing figure of Caranthir appeared at the center of the torch lit circle. A deep laughter emanated from beneath his hood as he removed it from his head.

"My little warrior," he chided Rochma as though he spoke to an ingrate. "How very wrong you are."

Rochma's face blanched. His hand that held the knife dropped to his side. Haleth fell back as Caranthir stepped forward, eyeing Rochma with a bemused smirk.

"Your people have spoken their peace, am I correct?"

Rochma tentatively nodded, his eyes cutting back to Haleth.

"Then what are you fighting for?" Caranthir folded his large hands before him. "Be off if you are unhappy. Make your own people. These lands are broad and broader still east of the mountains. If you call yourself a man, show a little courage."

He clapped a hand on Rochma's shoulder, nearly sending him off his balance. He raked the mortal's form with a disdainful glare before turning away.

"As it were, the Lady Haleth has agreed to come dwell in my lands to the north in friendship with the Eldar and under our protection. There your petty claims, boy, will hold no ground."

Haleth 's face flushed with heat as the elf lord nodded to her before disappearing into the night. She did not even notice the stares of shock and reprimand from her proud people at the elf's announcement. Clenching her hands into fists, she squeezed her eyes shut. 

Though Caranthir meant well, such an arrogant assumption had done more harm than good. Her people would never tolerate to dwell under the rule of any other, but their own. 

Nor would she.