—and found someone waiting nervously outside the door.

“March Warden?”

“Happy Yuletide, Eowyn,” said Haldir, placing his hand upon his heart and bowing his head.

Curious, Eowyn returned his greeting, asking, “Are you coming inside?”—and adding, very softly, when she saw the expression on his face, “Cyllien is resting.” She nodded towards the bedchamber door.

Haldir smiled gratefully, but shook his head. “It was you I wanted to speak to,” he said. “Privately. And I wanted to give you this—I do have a joint gift for you and Legolas, and gifts for the others, but this—this is just for you, Eowyn—a thank you.”

Eowyn took the tiny parcel. “For what?”

“For being kind and patient with a very foolish elf.”

“Haldir—”

“I will always love you, Eowyn, but—with your help—I have learned that it is possible to love two women—to love them in different ways.”

“I did not help you realise that, Haldir,” said Eowyn. “It is your lady who,”—she smiled—“she has mended your heart. Will both of you not join us?”

Again, Haldir shook his head. “We are still learning to be alone together,” he said. And he smiled.

“Well, when Yule is over, and you are both ready, you must bring her to dine with Legolas and me. Just us four. For I am sure that she and I will be friends.”

“Thank you. I am sure you will.” He glanced towards the bedchamber. “She does know about you, and about Cyllien.”

“That is good.”

Haldir nodded, a little awkwardly. Then, “Well… Are you going to open your present?”

Eowyn smiled up at him, “Yes.” Carefully, she pulled open the wrapping and, with fingers and thumb, lifted out the tiny, delicate gift. “A brooch—it—oh Haldir, it is Brightstar!” Smiling broadly now, she pinned the jet horse to her breast. “It is beautiful. Thank you!” And she came up on tip-toe, and kissed his cheek. “Mellon nín.”

“I am glad you like it…”

They gazed at each other for a long moment. Then Haldir said, “I must go.”

“Yes,” said Eowyn. “Say Happy Yuletide to your lady for me.”