Maegwen had never left Lórien before. All her life she had lived beneath the branches of the Golden Wood, and for much of it she had never wanted more. She loved her home, loved the Lord and Lady, and above all loved Celebrían, their daughter, her dearest friend. The two maidens were the same age, having been born on the same day of the same year. Over a hundred years ago, a few years before the defeat of Sauron, Maegwen's parents had sailed for Valinor. They had wanted her to go with them, but as she was an accomplished writer of verse and because Celebrían had insisted, she had stayed in Lothlórien.

Maegwen did not see herself as anything special, though Galadriel and Celeborn praised her often. They asked her to compose songs for them for special occasions, which she did eagerly, usually with Celebrían accompanying her on the harp. Maegwen wrote the verse, and Celebrían the music. Together they sang the songs in clear voices at the banquets given by the Lord and Lady.

Maegwen and Celebrían were nearly inseparable. Maegwen had been brought to live with the Lord and Lady at the time of her parents' departure, and the two shared a talan in the same tree where Galadriel and Celeborn dwelled. Although both girls had reached their majority a hundred years past, Celebrían's parents had not decided on a husband for her of yet, so Maegwen had vowed to her friend that she would remain single herself until the time came for Celebrían to marry.

It was growing more and more difficult. Many elves offered for her, but she often wondered if it were not simply because of her closeness to Celebrían than for herself. Celebrían was stunning, and she was kind, and clever. Maegwen felt grateful every day that she should have her as such a close friend. They shared everything.

No. Not everything. Lately a shadow had fallen over Maegwen's heart which she could not confess. She felt the eyes of Celeborn on her of late, watching her with a gaze that was more than paternal, though he never had made an improper advance towards her. Celebrían and her father were close, closer than she was to Galadriel, even, so Maegwen dared not mention this. Perhaps it was her imagination, after all.

When the invitation came from Imladris for the Winter Festival, both girls had been delighted. Neither had left Lórien before and it seemed a grand adventure indeed, the dangerous trek through wood and field that would take several weeks! And to see the fabled Imladris! Celebrían had read out loud to Maegwen a great many books about the haven built by the great warrior, Lord Elrond. Usually the tales were written by this Elrond himself and Maegwen was lucky did she not fall asleep during the recitation, but Celebrían was fascinated, if not a little obsessed. In the weeks before the trip, they could speak of nothing else.

"They say the palace is all gold and marble, that is had an enormous library, and a garden," Celebrían said as they sat together beneath one of the large mallorn trees.

"The garden will be covered with snow, I imagine," Maegwen replied practically.

"Sometimes flowers bloom in the snow," Celebrían insisted.

"How you do manage to see the good in everything," Maegwen said, smiling softly. "No wonder you love me so well. I doubt that anyone else could."

"Silly Maegwen, anyone would love you. And speaking of love… I fear that my parents intend to match me with someone at this party."

"Not Lord Elrond?" Maegwen's eyes went round.

"I met Lord Elrond once, long ago," Celebrían said with a dreamy look in her eye. "He was tall, and handsome. And he is so smart. He writes all those books! Yet I do not think I am his type."

Maegwen was not sure what this meant, or how Celebrían would not be the type of absolutely any elf, but she did not protest. "Then who?"

"I heard Mother say that Thranduil, King of Mirkwood will be in attendance."

"A king is fitting for a princess such as yourself," Maegwen said sensibly.

"Perhaps, but Father does not like Thranduil. He says he would sooner wed me to an orc."

"Did he say why?"

"No, but I must admit that it does indeed make me curious to meet this Thranduil. A king of Mirkwood is not a bad choice for me. Mirkwood is not far, and I could visit my parents often. I will miss them desperately, if I wed an elf from far away."

"Then wed an elf of Lórien. Stay here, for I will miss you, too."

"Father says there is no elf of Lórien of rank for me."

"Not even the Marchwarden?"

"Maegwen, you know that Thandronen is the Marchwarden, that he is thousands of years older than me, and that his sons are nearly our age."

"So what of his sons? Fereveldir is handsome."

"So is Ferevellon, his twin. But they are too young!"

"Just think, if you wed a twin, you might be the mother of twins."

"Ai, I am not wed and you have me with child already."

"Ah, but if I could get you with child, I would wed you myself, sweet Celebrían."

They laughed together. "You must promise to come with me wherever I must live, in the end. I cannot be parted from you Maegwen."

"Nor I from you. I give you my word."

Celebrían clutched Maegwen's hands and leaned in to kiss her on the mouth. Maegwen sighed against her. She felt Celebrían's lips part beneath hers and she gasped, seeking her friend's tongue with her own. So rare were the times when Celebrían would allow Maegwen such liberties, rarer than Maegwen would have liked.

The sound of a throat being cleared interrupted the kiss. Maegwen looked up to see a young elf looming over them, a harp in hand. She frowned. He frowned back. She did not care much for this arrogant youth who had barely reached his majority and was constantly leering at the both of them (and at every other elf in the wood, Celebrían had pointed out, giggling) but he was a favorite of Celeborn for some reason and it had been requested of Celebrían by her mother that she teach him to play the harp.

"Hello, Haldir," Celebrían said, gracing him with a smile that lit up the wood. "Is it time for your lesson already?"

"Yes, my lady, unfortunately it is. However, if you would like to continue with what you were doing, I should be happy to stand here and watch."

"How can you count any moment you are privileged enough to spend with Lady Celebrían unfortunate?" Maegwen scolded him, lifting her chin.

He was a handsome enough creature, with long, pale braided hair, full lips that were always twisted into a pout and softly rounded cheeks. He cut a fine figure in his silver tunic and cream-colored leggings, but he was far too arrogant. Maegwen thought his mother spoiled him, or perhaps did not pay him enough mind. She had a baby of two years, Haldir's little brother Orophin, and was expecting another in a few months. His father was one of the border guards and was rarely seen within the city of Caras Galadhon. It was said that soon Haldir would be named a guard himself, though he was still a bit young for such a post.

"I quite enjoy the company of Lady Celebrían," Haldir replied, arching an eyebrow, "However, I cannot abide playing the harp."

"You have a talent for it, Haldir," Celebrían said, smiling at him.

"So says the Lady of Light," Haldir sighed. "I would rather be learning the sword and the bow."

"Did you not tell me you had already mastered those?" Celebrían teased.

"In truth, I have. I master every weapon that falls into my hands," Haldir bragged. "But one can never have too much practice."

"I imagine you are indeed an expert at handling your own weapon, Haldir," Maegwen said, her eyes glittering, "And spend many long, hard hours at practice."

The young elf's cheeks flushed slightly as he caught her wicked meaning. "So sharp is your tongue, Mistress Maegwen, that I am surprised you did not pierce Celebrían with it."

Celebrían smiled dangerously at Haldir. "Ah, but she has pierced me with it, and often, and no greater pleasure have I ever known than its caress."

This time Maegwen blushed, and Haldir shifted on his feet and pulled on the edge of his tunic. He looked at her appraisingly and she did not like it at all.

"Perhaps it is time this lesson gets underway. I shall go and start packing, my lady, for tomorrow we leave for Imladris. What a pity you shall have to miss your lessons for a few weeks while we are gone, Haldir."

"Oh, but I shall not miss them," Haldir replied, his icy eyes shining wickedly. "Lord Celeborn has insisted I accompany the party on this journey, for the protection of you ladies, of course."

"He must expect an orc attack, then, to bring someone so expendable as a guard," said Maegwen.

"Or not expect one at all, to bring someone so green and inexperienced," Celebrían said. Both of them laughed as Haldir narrowed his eyes.

He was pretty in his anger, Maegwen thought. His pride was clearly wounded. Instead of adding another acerbic reply, he simply sat down beside Celebrían and set up his harp. He ran his long, pale fingers over the strings and began effortlessly to pluck out a melody. Galadriel was correct, Maegwen thought. The lad did have talent. She turned away and heard him hit a sour note.

"Like this," Celebrían instructed him gently, positioning his hands differently on the instrument.

The music resumed and Maegwen headed up to the talan to finish the packing. She could not wait to go to Imladris, even if it meant suffering from Haldir's company during the entire journey.