The usually bright hall seemed dark and heavy with tension, torchlight provided harsh golden light across the room of grave faces, with none graver than that of the king. Her eyes flitting from doors to witnessess to stern and sorrowful monarch, Ariende worriedly clenched her fists, nails digging into palm as a sentence loomed nearer and nearer. Her love's dear friend would never be returning to the fair woodland realm and thus her own love and joys would be ripped asunder.

In a haze it seemed her voice was called and guardedly she walked through the throng gathered to stand before the King and his councillors. Allowing herself one final desperate glance back towards the doors before she spoke Ariende gathered her courage and words. "My Lord King, as one who has known your foster son since his arrival here I would speak on his character and behaviour,"
"But you saw not the event itself?" Thingol's voice though cold was strained and his fair face showed grief and great troubles."I saw only Túrin standing over Saeros in the halls, and only Saeros leaving with a baleful and hateful look. Though I am fleet of foot in dance and merriment I was unable to chase with the fast feet of Mablung or others who pursued the events of the following day. So in truth I saw nothing my King, though much I have seen of Túrin's life and much I know of his manner, please hear me," fearing her testimonial would be dismissed before she could even begin Ariende strove to keep her voice measured and even as she spoke. There was a silence as she finished and warily she noticed the looks between councillors and their glances toward the King, at least any deliberation on their part would give Beleg time he desperately needed. Her fears were soon forgotten as Thingol slowly nodded to her in indication to continue. Quickly gathering her thoughts again Ariende decided to focus solely on the King as she spoke, hoping her words would reach his heart where he surely knew Túrin could not commit the atrocities held over him.

"I cared for Túrin on the very evening he came here, mortal or no he was unlike any child I have seen – he was sombre, stern almost and with all the grace and courtesy of a leader of his land despite his age and terrible sorrow. Even with all the wrong and evil done to him then I felt no hate in him, only a pride of surviving - a pride well known to his people," she added, hoping to draw some of the venom that had been associated with his proud nature through the trial, "I watched him grow from intelligent child to experienced manhood under the care and tutelage of all here – and all who at least once loved him as I still do. When learning yes, he was impatient and angry, though only from burning a desire to achieve and to do well in aiding this land in all he could. As you all know, Beleg, one of your most respected wardens taught Túrin and found no fault nor cause for concern but only respect and the greatest of friendships,"
"Beleg may speak for himself if he chooses," Thingol interrupted, "As close as you are I cannot allow you to speak for him Ariende,"
"This I understand," she accepted, "Though at least please trust my word as one you know and one who has served you long: Túrin may be proud yet there is no malice nor scorn in his heart; he would not insult you so with such qualities."

The King's face remained emotionless and unreadable as Ariende was dismissed, as he passed her Mablung laid a hand comfortingly upon her shoulder. She prayed that at least his words and the telling of the full tale could turn the King's mind towards forgiveness. The doors had remained shut throughout, Beleg would have to hurry if he intended for Nellas to speak in time. Closely studying the face of the King as Mablung spoke it seemed as if he leant more towards Túrin as the events were revealed, it gave her hope yet further silence pervaded over the court once all had finished speaking and Mablung returned to his seat. The King's judgement reached her ears as Ariende frantically glanced towards the doors. He was too late.

Yet just as she watched the King's hand inevitably rise to seal the fate of her friend the creaking of the heavy oaken doors being swung drew her gaze away as Beleg strode hastily into the hall. A breath she had not been aware she was holding escaped her lips as the proceedings were momentarily halted and then completely stalled as Nellas warily crept into the hall behind Beleg as he entered the hall again. Though her eyes were fearfully wandering the room her face seemed set and she did not cower before the great persons she faced. Beleg slipped to Ariende's side and grasped her hand reassuringly as Nellas' small voice narrated all she had seen. From the clear and determined look in his eyes Ariende could tell that what Nellas had seen would change everything that had come to pass in the hall.

Whilst they were joyful that night there was no dancing. Despite the total pardoning of Túrin, Beleg sat broodingly in thought in his rooms whilst Ariende entered with steaming cups of hot drink for them both.
"I will take gifts to Nellas tomorrow in thanks for her courage, if she had not spoke this would be a darker night," she said with a sigh as she settled on the cushions alongside Beleg
"Twas only for her love of him that she stepped into the halls let alone spoke before such an audience. It is well he has those such as we three who love him,"
"And it is well he has those such as you who would find him and return him to his rightful place here," Ariende agreed meaningfully, "I know you intend to leave and that is well with me; he is your great friend and I will not see you troubled so whilst he is absent from us."
"I must go to him, I cannot have him feeling wronged and wasting himself in the wilds alone. His place is here, and I am the only one who could find him," Beleg replied, with eyes full of mingled apology and sincerity.
"You do not have to excuse yourself to me Beleg," Ariende replied with a soft smile, "I would rather you away searching the ends of this earth than sat here like a caged animal,"
"You do not know how much I love you," he whispered gratefully, suddenly pulling him to her in an embrace, "I will return, as always."

And so she waited, stitching, laughing, dancing still but worry marred her spirit so her feet were not so fleet and her face not so fair. Many went to and from the halls and she looked hopefully at each face but the two faces she sought were never seen.

Eventually Beleg came unlooked for by Ariende, travel worn and right into the hall where she sat stitching and singing at the foot of the Queen. Breath was caught in her throat as she beheld him; great was her joy though also her worry at the sight of his downcast eyes and the trouble that lingered in them. Swallowing her exclamations and strangled gasp Ariende set her needlework down as her love revealed the sad tidings of Túrin to the King. Whilst he was grateful and kneeled before the Queen with honour as the sacred Lembas bread was gifted to him, it seemed to Ariende that his mind was afar and that not even the significance of the gesture could move his hard countenance. As he rose to leave the hall she glanced to the Queen who excused her with a short nod. Dropping her needlework Ariende hastened down the hall to catch up with him, Beleg had a smile for her though his tread was heavy as the left the hall.

"I could not bring him back, Ariende," he murmured despairingly as he dropped the pack he carried upon the floor of his room, he looked away from her and sighed heavily, her heart bled at the sight of him so desolate. Reaching to him she laid a pale hand gently against his cheek and turned his face back to her own,
"Do not be disheartened so, your efforts have been greater than any, even if you do return alone to the halls – the honour you have been granted is testament to this. What you achieved in even finding Túrin is a great feat in itself,"
"I know," he reached up his hand to cover hers with an apologetic smile, "It is enough, for now, to know that at least he is well and lives still,"
"You should rest," Ariende suggested, smoothing the hair back from his sombre face, "Do not let this lay too heavily upon you else all hope will be lost for Túrin, we must believe in him still."

Moving away he rifled through his pack, sorting clothing from supplies and placing them in piles upon a sturdy oaken table, talking of his travel, of Túrin's health and over and over again of Túrin's pride and stubborn will. The pack emptied, Ariende swept the pile of worn and stained clothes into her arms for mending with a gentle smile, "Rest," she repeated, "On a tired mind you will achieve nothing and feel all the worse for that which is not your fault. I will have as many of these readied as I can before you are off to the Marches again," she gestured to the bundle in her arms with a sad nod.
"Where would I be without my personal seamstress?" a grin ghosted across his face, then, with an afterthought he darted after her retreating form and held her back with a light touch upon the arm, "Wait, could you manage an extra?"

Pulling the tunic from over his head Beleg placed it on the pile in Ariende's arms. As he glanced to her face there was shock at her transfixed expression. Eyes unmoving and filled with horror she stood frozen to the spot starting aghast at his person. Following her gaze Beleg looked down in bewilderment, that was, until he saw the raw scarring of a burn across his chest.
"That is no war wound," Ariende's voice trembled coldly as she held the bundle of clothing more tightly to her body,
"His company is worse than I spoke of," came the low reply as Beleg stared off into the distance, as if past the uncomfortable truth and memory,
"He did not – surely?"
"No." Beleg's eyes returned to her, "Though I feared him truly lost to me, he lives as if in a den of thieves rather than the knightly halls he so deserves. He treated me, professed his love as a brother yet still remained behind."*

It was not long, as Ariende predicted, before Beleg returned to the Marches with bow and knives that were sorely needed. Whilst news of the fraught struggles returned from the Marches, so equally disappointing was the fact that no word came from Túrin. Still Ariende could not believe his behaviour, or the tales of his new companions. As much love as she harboured for the man it became hard not to resent his stubborn pride, for the cost and sorrow it had cast upon Beleg. In the brief times he did return to the halls he seemed so terribly burdened and distant with thoughts and worry for his friend. It became an infectious concern for the both of them.

Whilst it pained her so and stirred shameful smatterings of jealousy and anger within her, Ariende could do nothing other than let her love go about his way and rule his life as he always had. It took a fine balance of love and wisdom to restrain herself; always the ever present knowledge that she would change all she loved in him should she try tie him down prevented bitter word or thought. The darkness surrounding her beautiful woodland home seemed to crowd in around them all. Many nights she would walk the hallways and passages, soothing her troubled mind in the cool of evening.

On one such night she passed by the doors she so often passed with a loving glance and saw a flicker of light from beneath the closed entrance. Halting in surprise she hovered outside the door listening for any intrusion, hearing only the faint sounds of rustling and footfall Ariende pushed the door open. A confused and hurt look stole across her face before one of joy replaced it at seeing Beleg returned,
"I thought you were away until the turn of the season?" her voice rose in curiosity as he turned and revealed to her a great sword held in his hands, her eyes instantly narrowed upon seeing such a dark blade, "The bow suits you better."

Immediately setting it aside he crossed the room to her and pushed the door shut behind them, taking her hand he led her into the warm glow of the firelight with words that tripped and tumbled in their haste.
"Do not misunderstand, I had hoped to find you later but I fear I must explain now," taking a deep breath he continued with a narration muddled by desires and passion, "Our love can be ever long and ever lasting in its sweetness and its joy, but I have only a small score of years left to hold a love in brotherhood. Whilst all I would like in this world is to here and with you, it tears me to the soul to think a brother is fading away from me down the cold road of mortality. If I cannot bring him home then I shall go to him and return when all is done so he stands between our love no longer."
"I have always loved you for the freedom and wildness in your heart, I have not held you before and I shall not hold you now," slowly and carefully came the reply, in a pause Ariende swallowed hard and shook herself, as if with great resolve before looking up into his face again, "Put me from your mind, do not let such things hinder your task. I will be ever waiting."

Relief washed over his face but Beleg did not miss the strain in her voice or the forced calm to her resolute pose, "You are not happy," regret and sorrow tinged his voice as he tried to read the masked expression on her pale face.
"You will range far and for a long time I deem, for that man's heart is set and his thoughts on returning will not have changed. I would be happier if I knew I was with you in part as those are who are wed -"Ariende could not stop her words and did not want to let the catch in her voice show but show it did "I have never sought to ask you for I would never tie you to a purpose but it would give me hope to know that…that upon your return… that.."
"That we would wed?" his voice betrayed nothing as Ariende wrung her hands in anxiety and awkwardness, nodding she managed to continue, wishes tumbling unrestrainedly from her lips,
"…That I would not be apart from you in full again after this and that I would have some comfort in the years that are about to pass, I would not seek to bind you and your feet would be free to wander where they would as they always have been, only that I, in some small way could still be with you and know you are mine. I would not seek to ask you now at such a time but for the heaviness of my heart…"
"And I would not seek to force you to ask in such a position but fate is oft unkind," his eyes looked away and past her figure, staring into the warm orange glow of the firelight as a soft smile touched his face, "I would seek to ask you on a sunlit path with orchids about the ground, or in a music filled hall with your hair tossed from dancing, but instead I ask you now Ariende, my love, if you would be my bride upon my return to these halls?"
"I would."

Tears of both joy and sadness brimmed at her eyes as their hands gripped tightly between them and her forehead rested lightly against his
"Stay beside me this night."

And so Ariende found what it would be like to stay in those rooms, though perhaps not quite as she had imagined it. For they simply lay awake, in each others arms until the candles and fire had burnt out and her namesake was beginning a journey across the skies. They lay together, lost in thought and feeling until her love arose and left her standing upon the bridge as always.

* In The Children of Hurin it is written that the woodsmen didn't get to burning or harming Beleg but it also isn't written that they were stopped wholly in time either. Furthermore it is written that Túrin did tend to Beleg so I'm using creative licence with this point.

A/N: Well I hope this has been enjoyed by those who have read it, if not let me know why (constructively please!). I am not too happy with the first few chapters of this fic, a lot of work could be made on them, however, I feel the last few make up for it.