She comes upon him in the gardens, his hands full of lilies and roses. He does not notice her as she stands watching his distracted movements, and she does not speak until he flinches and draws back from the flowers, dropping a rose as crimson as the blood trickling from his finger.

"A thorn?" she asks softly, coming forward to kneel beside him, and he looks up and grins wryly.

"I may be in need of medical assistance."

"What luck," she returns. "I do not think it mere coincidence that I studied under the head healer for two weeks."

He turns towards her, and all at once she is uncomfortable because he seems to be looking straight at her, and the smile has dropped from his face.

"What do they call you?" he asks hesitantly, and she pauses for a long moment before her smile returns.

"Aria," she says, and finds herself suddenly grateful for the fiery curtain of hair that tumbles across her face.

"I wish I could see you," he says wistfully one evening, and she looks at him and smiles. He is sitting at her feet on the leaf-strewn autumn ground, leaning against the stone arch curving over the terrace steps. This picture has grown familiar to her over the months, and she has come to treasure it and the moments they spend together.

"You will see me one day" she says firmly. "I promise."

But she has found no way to fulfill her promise when the envoy from Imladris arrives, led by Lord Glorfindel, and he has only time for a hasty embrace before they depart, leaving her alone and suddenly dejected in the courtyard as twilight deepens about her.