I watch Rian from the doorway of her room, the heavy fabric that serves as a door parted slightly with only the barest amount of light to see her by. She sleeps fitfully, tossing and turning, twisting herself into the blankets. I want to go to her, to take her in my arms and comfort her, but I cannot. Our relationship, though somewhat repaired, is still tenuous. It should have never been, but the fault is entirely mine.

I will remember clearly my mistake for the rest of my days, and in truth, I shall always regret it. In a moment of weakness, after our first night of sharing each other, I called her by the name of a former love from long ago. Another Edain woman who had passed away in my arms. One whom I thought I had committed to memory, but those memories returned to haunt me at the worst possible time.

So great is my desire to hold her, but I must content myself with my silent vigil over her. The Lady Galadriel has sent her on errand as messenger to the King, but I cannot help but think the Lady wishes to separate us for good. I have seen the disapproving look in her eyes when she sees us together. I cannot help but feel angry at her attempts. I wish to reconcile completely with Rian, to be as close as we once were. To have her love me again. To look upon me so I feel the warmth of the sun in her eyes. To be as we once were...

Before my mistake.

Shame, once again, takes hold of my thoughts and I think that the Lady's actions must be a kind of punishment for me. And I accept it as so, but I cannot help but wish it were different. That it was I who was sent away from Lorien and not Rian. She was happy here. Her fear of Edoras removing itself to the deepest recesses of her mind. Her happiness was my happiness. How could I ever hurt her?

But I did.

A stirring comes from the bed, and I return my attentions to look upon Rian's sleeping face. Her expression is troubled, and from her lips comes barely uttered words that I can scarcely understand. I know what troubles her, as it troubles me as well. She will be leaving Lorien, to return to her homeland of Rohan, in the morning.

I already miss her, even though she has not left yet. I will miss the brilliance of her smile and the way her white-blond hair caught at the sunlight giving her a glow about her like that of the Lady Galadriel herself. I will miss her eyes, their ice-blue depths clearly showing her feelings when words fail her. I will miss the feel of her within my embrace; the warmth of her body against mine, her scent filling my senses. Rose and niphredil, lavender and elanor. All will be remembered. All will be sorely missed.

She stirs again, and for a moment, it seems her eyes are open, but only just. I retreat behind the fabric as quickly as I can. "Orophin?" She calls for me and I resist the urge to enter her room. She calls for me again, and this time, I show myself, moving the fabric so that she can see me. We look at each other, and my heart longs for her to reach for me, to hold me in her arms and tell me she will not leave. But she does not, and sleep takes hold of her again.

I watch Rian from the doorway of her room, the heavy fabric that serves as a door parted slightly with only the barest amount of light to see her by. She sleeps peacefully now, and soon the sun will rise, announcing the morning. I shall keep my vigil until then.