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Most of Adar's children had succumbed to Sauron's influence—but not all. A scattered few, less than fifty, fled and hid until it was safe enough to make a retreat. Before leaving the outskirts of Eregion, they had retrieved Adar's body, intent on giving him a proper funeral.

Except then Mocdul discovered Adar was still breathing.

Adar himself doesn't know how he survived; if he had died and was sent back, if there was some magic or enchantment at work, if the Elven ring had something to do with it, or if he had simply been lucky. What was even more miraculous was that after his children found him, they managed to stay hidden and out of sight as Elven soldiers, and what they now referred to as Loukav Oneuk, ranged near them.

Loukav Oneuk, or the “Lost Ones” were the Uruk now acting on behalf of Sauron. The name was not to cast blame on them, as though they had lost their way. Rather it was to name what those who remained with Adar felt about their siblings, their once family. A loss: Not dead, but gone in a way there were no words for.

Adar’s recovery was slow and for over a year he and his small band of children had simply been surviving by moving in anxious circles over the land, scavenging for food and hunting a little where they could, while avoiding contact with any other beings in Middle Earth. Maybe one day they would find a place to settle, but for the time being they just had to stay out of the way.

This endeavor would have been impossible if it hadn’t been for their unlikely ally: A timid Elven cartographer.

The first time Camnir stumbled upon their camp, it was an accident. Adar was still early in recovering from his wounds and they had not retreated very far from the outskirts of the ruined city. They were moving slow, and not being as careful as they should have been.

Camnir had, fortunately, been alone. His expertise was called upon and he was brought to Eregion to direct routes of supplies for survivors and create maps for displaced citizens and traders to use to navigate around the besieged region. Camnir had wandered into Adar’s camp while checking to see if a ravine crossing had reached a fordable level to update one of the routes.

Vulnerable and unwilling to fight even if they could have, Adar had no choice but to be honest about their predicament and implore Camnir to not bring any undue attention to them.

Camnir wasn’t exactly primed for negotiations. He said very little and barely blinked, his eyes wide with what Adar could only assume was terror, even though he nor any of his children threatened the elf at all. Indeed, it took Adar great effort to even stand at that time. Adar was in such bad shape he became short of breath as he spoke to Camnir, and had to lean against a fallen tree to keep himself upright.

After a short conversation, Adar let the cartographer depart peaceably and could only hope that he would not report anything to Elven forces.

As it was, Camnir kept their secret. Adar did not expect this, but what surprised him even further was that Camnir returned that night with guidance on where they should set their course to avoid contact with moving armies. Of course some of Adar’s children were wary and refused to trust the elf. Adar knew a previous version of himself would not have either. But Adar found he did trust him. There was a sincerity about Camnir that Adar deemed authentic.

Then again, the feeling of warmth that filled Adar’s chest with even the most fleeting glances from those big brown eyes might have had something to do with Adar’s willingness to trust him so easily.

Either way, Adar took the chance, and Camnir’s advice led them to safety.

After that, Camnir continued to check in on them every couple of weeks, to keep them out of harms way and give input on what course to take next. And even though the Uruk were still mostly nocturnal, Camnir made sure the trails and crossings they were using were the most shaded to protect them from the sun. Over the course of the year, Adar and his small group of children owed their safety to Camnir.

But there was a problem.

At present, Camnir had not appeared for over a month, a longer absence than usual. Adar’s children were beginning to fear because they had been in the same spot for a while and needed to change course soon. Adar still had enough of a strategic mind that he felt confident he could make those decisions, at least for a while, without Camnir’s help. Yet even with this confidence, Adar was also growing worried.

The worry was not as a father worried for his children. That was something he was very accustomed to feeling. No, this was worry in a… romantic way. Worry stemming from an affection that Adar was certainly not used to feeling.

Adar thought the feelings he harbored toward the elf would numb over time. After all, he had been dizzy and almost dead when he first felt a stirring toward Camnir and his beautiful brown eyes. But much to his apprehension, Adar healed and his head cleared, yet the feelings grew with each visit.

It didn’t help that Camnir was not only thoughtful but also very kind. He would often bring them spices and herbs for cooking or healing when their scavenging came up short and he would sometimes linger in camp to play games with Adar’s children. Camnir gifted them cards and even a small, travel-sized carved chess set. Crezur was becoming quite the chess master and was now regularly winning the matches against Camnir.

Draga was also teaching Camnir phrases in Black Speech and his pronunciation was getting quite good.

The best though, was when Camnir would sit and talk with Adar at the campfire. They didn’t talk about anything of great importance. They had an understanding that speaking too freely about their differing Elven or Uruk worlds carried risks with agents of the deceiver looming in unknown places. So instead they spoke of flower petals used to make dyes and inks, wild bee hives for honey harvests, and stories about the constellations of the stars. Sometimes Camnir stayed long enough to watch the sunrise with Adar. He would then descend into the day as the Uruk took cover from the sun, and Adar would watch him go, already aching for Camnir to return again.

Adar knew he should try and quell these feelings of affection. Camnir was far too young for him and, besides, Adar was currently in hiding from his ex who had stolen thousands of their children in an effort to wage war against the entire free world. Adar shouldn’t drag an innocent mapmaker into this mess no matter how beautiful his eyes were.

Yet here he was, desperately clinging to the hope of gazing into those eyes again.

This hope was becoming increasingly diminished and Adar knew they had better change course or risk discovery. So he sent out a reconnaissance band of four of his children to chart out an eastern trail and report back so they could move camp the next night. The group had been out for about an hour when Crezur returned with a message:

“We found him.”

Of course Crezur didn’t have to say who it was. They all held a collective caring toward the elf that had been helping them and had become their friend.

Crezur added immediately, “The damage isn't life threatening, but… he can't walk.”

Adar’s vision became a blur as he gathered field aid supplies and his scant weaponry. The dagger he had managed to save from his set of armor had been exclusively used to dig up root vegetables as of late. He hoped this would be a simple retrieval rescue mission and not one in which they would face any combat. He left Draga in charge of camp and ran with Crezur into the night.

"What happened?" Adar asked, unable to keep the urgency out of his tone.

Crezur was not only talented at chess, but was also a keen navigator and had excellent vision at night. He swiftly led Adar through the woods, explaining in snippets as they traversed their way.

"He said that a small detachment of Elven soldiers he was leading were attacked by a band of Loukav Oneuk. Some of the Elven soldiers were slain and a couple escaped wounded, but they took Camnir captive. Turns out they wanted a navigator, and tried to force him to lead them somewhere having to do with lieutenant Elrond. Of course, Camnir didn’t do that, he just led them in circles. It took almost a week until they figured out what was happening. By then they had no more patience so they broke a leg, took his maps and what provisions he had left, and abandoned him. He waited until they were gone then headed toward us. He made it several miles before his leg gave out. He said it was a miracle we intercepted him and that it was of utmost importance we return to camp and not change course yet. We didn’t have food but we gave him what water we had. Mocdul is taking care of him. She stopped the bleeding, tied up the injury.”

The adrenaline and worry made every hurried word Crezur relayed cut like fine papercuts in his mind as he forced himself to focus and put the story together. The part about staying put in camp didn’t make sense if there was a band of disgruntled Loukav Oneuk running about and likely also Elvish troops out searching for wounded members of their detachment. They would give very little discernment in tracking down and killing those responsible for their slain soldiers.

But all thoughts of strategy vanished. After nearly half an hour, they finally came upon Mocdul tending Camnir as she knelt beside the cartographer who was propped up against a tree. Mocdul was washing Camnir’s face with a small bit of cloth. She rang it out and started to roll it back up to pack away. A lantern was set near by but the flame was extinguished.

Fear gripped tight under Adar’s lungs as he dropped down next to Camnir on the ground. He wanted to scoop the mapmaker up into his arms, hold him tightly, and carry him somewhere safer and warmer. But he didn’t know the extent of Camnir’s injuries so instead Adar reached out and took Camnir’s face in his hands as gently as he could manage.

Camnir opened his eyes at the touch, and even through the dark Adar could see his eyes seemed cognizant, focused rather than drowsy. A relief. Camnir then reached up and grabbed Adar’s shoulders rather tightly which Adar took as a good sign he still had some strength.

“I'm sorry,” Camnir said, sad and urgent.

“Sorry?” Adar rasped, “After everything you've done to keep us out of danger?”

Camnir’s grip tightened further and he stumbled over his words. “I… I’m… you. We.” He shook his head as though to clear it and took a shaky breath. When he spoke again his tone was steady and almost commanding. “We must return to your encampment. It’s safe there. I’m sorry. I should have told you before.” The command fell out of his voice and a desperate edge took over. “I can explain later. Just, please… call the others back, your camp mustn't move.”

Adar swept comforting circles on Camnir’s cheekbones to quiet him as he turned to address Crezur.

“Are the others far?”

“No,” Crezur answered. “They’re keeping watch.” He nodded east, his keen eyes wide in the dark. “Less than 100 feet away.”

“Retrieve them, we will return together.” Adar commanded, then turned toward Mocdul. Referring to Camnir he asked, “Can we move him?”

Mocdul was their resident healer and had proved to be quite gifted in her craft. Adar trusted her judgement.

She nodded. “If he hasn’t bled through the first layer of bandaging in this time, it’s stable enough to move. But only if he is carried, the break will worsen if he tries to walk on it.”

“I can carry him,” Adar said.

He had already started untying the cloak strings at his neck. Adar was no longer clad as a warrior, but rather a mix between a hermit-like wizard and a scraggily ranger.

To say Adar’s armor was compromised after being stabbed through nearly a hundred times would be an understatement. His children had scavenged some armor and protective gear from the remnants of the siege but Adar had not taken any to replace the discarded pieces. Even after the worst of his wounds healed and he was able to go without bandages, the mere thought of putting anything restrictive around his chest made him feel like he was suffocating.

However, as some strange side effect of his injuries, Adar found he was completely intolerant of cold or even cool temperatures and made up for his lack of armor by shrouding himself in multiples cloaks at all times. Thus he had an extra one to wrap around Camnir before hoisting him up into his arms.

Camnir wrapped his own arms around Adar’s shoulders, but Adar was holding him securely enough that he didn’t have to hold on tightly.

Even though Adar’s scrape with death had left him weakened, he still maintained a strength greater than most warrior-trained Elves. He was grateful now for this strength now—Camnir wasn’t small by any means. In height they were not matched—Camnir was taller. And there was a certain broadness in Camnir’s shoulders that Adar hadn’t noticed until they were now so close. As it was, Camnir settled into Adar’s hold, his arms draped over Adar’s shoulders, adjusting only to press the bridge of his nose into the crook of Adar’s neck, up behind his jaw, just below his ear.

A gentle warmth bloomed through Adar at the simple skin to skin contact, and Adar’s hold tightened protectively around Camnir’s body.

But Adar swept the intimate moment aside and focused on the urgency at hand. Once the other two Uruk in the company, Mizbath and Uldef, had safely been gathered, the group started their way back to camp.

*

Just as quickly as word was spread that the camp was to remain in place, a private area was made up to tend to Camnir’s injuries. A mound of furs and woven blankets were brought to him, and Adar nested Camnir within them, still wrapped in his cloak. Adar then constructed a small but warm fire, and one of his children brought provisions to make soup or medicinal tonics if needed.

Mocdul reported she needed to gather more supplies to tend to the broken bone, and in the short time she was gone, Camnir had settled into sleep.

Adar had just started boiling some water on the fire when Mocdul returned, accompanied by Draga. This was of no surprise to Adar—Draga had worked as a midwife and typically accompanied Mocdul on medical matters.

They had with them herbs and supplies to splint Camnir’s leg. Adar had hoped perhaps the break wasn’t severe enough to need to set it, but Mocdul had already evaluated the injury. If she thought it was bad enough to require a splint, then it was.

Adar knew it was unwise to procrastinate, but he ventured an attempt anyway.

“Might we… allow him to rest for a few more minutes?”

Mocdul glanced up from where she was laying out her supplies on the ground. “I wish I could advise that, Lord Father, but the break needs to be set as soon as possible.”

Adar nodded and lowered himself to the ground next to her. “We’ll have to give him some time at least to wake up,” Adar said quietly. “I don't want to remove any clothing until he's conscious enough to know what’s going on.”

At this, Camnir’s eyes flutter opened.

“I’m awake,” Camnir said, pushing himself up on his elbows. “I don’t mind.”

Mocdul shot a bemused look at Camnir’s eagerness, then responded, “The break is below the knee. We don’t have to take any of your clothes off.”

“Oh. Right.” He winced, lowering himself back to the ground. “Some other time then,” Camnir said weakly but with humor.

Adar knew that even elves could resort to humor to ease pain in times of battle or misfortune, and decided to not read into the statement too much.

“In the meantime,” Mocdul continued, “let’s get you taken care of. From what I understand, elves heal pretty quickly when given the opportunity, so the faster we get this over with, the better.”

Mocdul continued on, explaining all the supplies and what they were going to do, and Adar only half listened. He knew what they needed to do, and it would be simple and safe compared to some of the other things he’d had to do to treat far worse, life threatening injuries post battle or accident. Still, the thought of causing Camnir pain even if it was the necessary thing to do, made Adar’s heart ache.

He was practiced enough in numbing that ache that it shouldn’t have been such a difficulty for him now. But Camnir was different than anyone Adar had ever met, and the closer the got to each other the less Adar could ignore the potency of his feelings.

Adar found himself just looking at Camnir’s face, half illuminated by the small campfire, his dark brown gaze even deeper in the darkness. Camnir was calm as he listened to Mocdul, his countenance showed he was exhausted, certainly… but not afraid.

“…and Adar can help me…. Lord Father?”

“Yes, I can,” Adar answered, snapping out of his thoughts.

“Finally,” Mocdul said as she mixed some herbs with a bit of the hot water from the fire. “Draga’s here for moral support.”

“That means I get to hold your hand,” Draga said sweetly, holding one out, and Camnir took it.

“Have you been wounded before?” Mocdul asked as she mixed the elixir.

“Once,” Camnir answered vaguely. The silence that followed illustrated he was intent on not elaborating.

“Well, you survived that, you’ll survive this. Here. Drink this.” Mocdul handed over the cup of medicine. “I don’t have any elvish medicine, but this will help with some of the pain and swelling, as it soaks in. The wild stuff takes a little longer to work, but it works for a long time. It’ll mostly settle in after the break is set, so you’ll be more comfortable after.”

Camnir drank the offering without hesitation. Draga then helped him move so Camnir’s head was resting on her thigh. She loomed over him like a mother hen, holding his hand, wiping his hair away from his forehead.

Camnir was wearing boots that wrapped and tied just below the knee. In the woods, Mocdul had loosened the boot on the injured right leg, wrapped the wound and tucked in the excess bandaging. She now removed everything and Adar saw that the break indeed was in need of a splint, and soon.

Mocdul quickly set to work tending and packing the open part of the wound with numbing and healing herbs. They only had the scant light from the small campfire, but it was enough for the healer to work efficiently. His children had been subjugated to so much torment that most of them could stitch wounds or set breaks with their eyes closed.

Draga had started softly reviewing the latest phrases she had taught Camnir to speak in Black Speech to distract him, and it seemed to be working.

Mocdul did not speak, but Adar knew when she was ready to set the break. Mocdul would work fast, Adar just had to be strong for a few seconds, both literally and figuratively. Adar took in a deep breath and held it.

“Remember the curse words I taught you?” Adar heard Draga say to Camnir just then. “We’re going to practice those now.”

Mocdul nodded for Adar to brace the break.

Camnir’s pronunciation was most excellent.

Once the break was set and wrapped, Adar let out his breath. The most painful part was over now.

“The herbs will kick in fully in about half an hour. Rest until then, and eat something once the pain is tolerable,” Mocdul instructed, gathering her things. “I’ll be back to check on you. You’ll be fine, though.”

Usually Draga stayed with Mocdul’s patients to offer comfort, sometimes even singing to them as they fell asleep. But in this case she surrendered her charge to Adar, who didn’t care if he looked too eager to take over.

Adar moved Camnir to lay against him with his injured leg supported by a rolled up blanket. Once in a tolerable position, Camnir collapsed against Adar’s chest in exhaustion, and Adar wrapped his arms protectively around him.

Draga and Mocdul left them alone and Adar was grateful for the privacy. Certainly he enjoyed the company of his children and knowing they were safe and well. But his head was spinning and he needed some time to decompress.

So he gave into the warmth of Camnir tucked into him. He let the quiet of the night and calm crackling of the fire regulate his mind and his body.

Lost in the quiet, Adar combed his fingers gently through Camnir’s hair three or four times. When he realized what he was doing his hand stilled.

“Sorry,” Adar whispered.

“Don’t stop,” Camnir responded, woozy but adamant. “It feels nice.”

Adar returned to the motion, and soon found himself also rocking back and forth with the gentle touch. Neither of them spoke, content with each other’s peaceful presence.

About half an hour later, Draga returned, bringing them soup. Camnir was able to sit up on his own to eat, so Adar let him.

Adar knew Draga would give him too much grief if he refused, so he ate what she brought for him. It helped that Camnir seemed to be feeling much better, as he talked softly with Draga and ate seconds of her soup, which she was rightfully very proud of.

Mocdul also returned to check Camnir over. She reported his pulse was strong and steady and he wasn’t showing any signs of shock. She was pleased to know the medicine was working and informed them a tent had been set up for Camnir to use, deeming him stable enough to be moved to it. Once they were finished eating, Adar didn’t give Camnir the option of trying to walk as he picked him up again to carry him across camp.

Survival meant ingenuity and Adar had noticed that the small number of his children who had resisted the lure of Sauron were some of the most clever. They were able to make so much out of nearly nothing and in the time they had been in hiding they were still able to prepare hearty meals and build substantial shelters that were also easy enough to be assembled and disassembled very quickly and carried as camp moved. They usually slept under communal shelters and canopies, but individual tents would be set up if anyone was sick or hurt. Adar was not surprised to find the shelter was adequately furnished with Camnir’s injuries and needs in mind.

The central item was a proper bed, the frame crafted from scavenged wood. Rope was woven through in an overlapping design with a patched up bedroll placed on top. Considering that most of Adar’s children were three times heavier than any Elven cartographer, it would be a stable place for him to get some healing sleep. A small lantern in the corner cast a gentle light that filled up the small space.

Adar lowered Camnir onto the bed, but Camnir’s arms remained clasped around Adar’s shoulders, his nose still pressed up under Adar’s jaw. Adar found he had little choice but to bring himself fully into bed with his patient on his lap in order to keep Camnir’s splinted leg at a comfortable angle.

This appeared to be the point, as Camnir spoke timidly into Adar’s chest.

“Will you stay with me?”

Adar felt a warm blush creep into his face. He hadn’t planned on leaving him, but he had not planned on sleeping in the bed.

“Yes, I’ll be here. There are provisions for me to sleep on the ground. But if you need anything during the night, just ask and I’ll help.”

Camnir released his hold on Adar’s shoulders and looked up at him hopefully.

“Will you… brush my hair?” He moved and unlaced a side pocket on his tunic, procuring a comb. “This was the only thing they didn’t take from me.”

Adar nodded silently and took the comb.

Camnir thus allowed Adar to move him off his lap and shift to position himself sitting behind the elf.

Adar’s chest tightened with apprehension. As part of no longer wearing armor, the gauntlet he had usually worn on his left hand had also been abandoned. This meant his hand was unassisted and revealed the extensive loss of motion he had sustained. His right hand wasn’t much better: Numb, but at least he could move it. His left he was barely able to move and couldn’t feel at all. Field dressing wounds was one thing, but Adar had not attempted something so delicate as combing someone else’s hair. He only had experience with his own and he wasn’t gentle with himself when it got tangled. He usually just had to cuss through the worst of the knots then begrudgingly allow one of his children to braid it to keep it better maintained. Certainly not the method he wanted to use in the present circumstance.

As it was, Adar’s fears were unfounded. For as rough of shape as Camnir had been in when they found him his hair, in typical Elven form, was practically immaculate. When he started by simply gathering Camnir’s hair from his shoulders, the deep walnut strands flowed like silk into his grasp.

Tingles danced through Adar’s fingers as he separated Camnir’s hair into sections, a soft sensation sparking feelings he had forgotten he could feel on his nerve damaged skin. Camnir let out a contented hum as Adar began to gently move the comb through the first section, moving carefully and slow around the point and curve of Camnir’s ear.

By the time he made it to the final section, Camnir’s head was dipping down into his chest and he was swaying in an effort to stay upright as he fell in and out of sleep. Adar swept the comb through his hair a few more times, merely for the comforting sensation than any practical purpose, then tucked and pinned the comb into Camnir’s hair, high enough that it wouldn’t bother him when he laid down.

Adar then gently took hold of Camnir’s shoulder’s and guided them toward the bed as he himself moved to stand up. But Camnir snapped back awake and grabbed at Adar’s cloak.

“What are you doing?” Camnir asked.

“Letting you sleep. You need rest to heal,” Adar answered.

Camnir shook his head, pushing himself back up. “I don’t want to go to sleep.”

“Are you in pain?” Adar asked, already mentally putting together an herbal recipe of tea that would work with the herbs Mocdul had already given him.

Camnir bit his lip. “If I say yes will you hold me again?”

The thoughts of tea abruptly vanished from Adar’s mind. Words nearly failed him, but he managed after an almost awkwardly long pause to say sincerely, “I… could do that even if you aren’t in pain.”

Camnir’s eyes widened and his lips almost broke into a smile, but it was cut off by a wince.

“Yeah. Well. It does still hurt a bit.”

Camnir may still need the tea later, but for now Adar climbed back into the bed, scooping Camnir into his chest like he had when he picked him up from the ground in the woods. Camnir shifted on his lap, adjusting for his wounded leg before settling in, the bridge of his nose finding what appeared to be his favorite place, nuzzled up underneath Adar’s jaw.

Adar drew up the one of the blankets and covered up the rest of him by spreading out his cloak over Camnir’s shoulders. He then helped brace Camnir as he lowered them both to lay on the bed.

“Does this feel all right?” Adar asked.

But all he got in reply was half an “Mmm.” Camnir was already fast asleep.

***

Adar has had this dream before. The ring, he assumed, was talking to him again.

You survived for a reason, she said. Let me show you.

Usually Adar said no. No, not until his children were safe.

His resolve this time, however, was softened. There was a gentleness in the request Adar couldn’t deny this time.

So, he accepted, not in defeat, but in trust.

And of course, he saw Camnir. Except it wasn’t the Camnir he knew.

Camnir was… old. It was more of a feeling than what Camnir looked like. Elves of course maintained agelessness in their face and bodies through the centuries. Still, there was a hint of the years around his eyes, and his hair was different. Most beings get silvery gray in their hair as they age, Camnir appeared to be of the minority to gain glimmers of gold with age.

They were in a village of sorts, a small one, but they were surrounded by proper houses, and the sweet scents of baking bread without the bitterness of ashen outdoor campfires.

Camnir glanced up, only for a moment. He was helping a young Uruk to hold a paintbrush, the color swirling over a canvas of sanded and smoothed wood.

After a small smile of recognition toward Adar, Camnir turned his full focus back to the Urukling’s timid brushstrokes.

Wherever it was they were—they were home.

***

When Adar woke up, the sun was shining.

Adar jolted up in bed without thinking. Fortunately, Camnir wasn’t disturbed. He was sitting up toward the foot of the bed, weaving together some dried stems and leaves.

Adar didn’t know the last time his body had rested so deeply, and being launched from the peaceful slumber was proving more than a little turbulent. He was groggy and his muscles wanted nothing more than to lay back down, pull Camnir close, and go back to sleep. But he couldn’t do that when he was one of the only Uruk who could safely keep watch during the day.

“Has anyone been in to give a report?” Adar rasped, stumbling up to grab a chipped pitcher of water sitting next to the now extinguished lantern.

“Mocdul said there was nothing to report,” Camnir replied. “She brought more dried herbs to make medicine. But I told her I didn’t need any because I’m not in pain. She left them anyway so I’m making a flower crown out of them. Do you want to wear it?”

Adar made no effort to find a basin, he simply emptied the cold water over his head directly from the pitcher.

“Thank you, but no,” he sputtered around his impromptu shower.

“I’ll give it to Urzul, then. He has a date tomorrow night.”

Adar wiped the water from his eyes. “A date with who?”

“Orakh.”

Adar would have to wait until later to investigate how Camnir knew more about the romantic blossoming in his camp than he did.

“Someone should have woken me up,” Adar said sharply, gathering the wet hair out of his face. “I start my watch before the sun rises.”

“Crezur tried to but I told him he didn’t need to. I think everyone went to sleep for the day.”

Adar spun around. “No one’s keeping watch?”

“No one needs to keep watch,” Camnir answered softly.

Adar stared at him. Camnir was very cute with his flower crown and all, but they needed to be reasonable, here.

Camnir met his stare with an equally steadfast look. “Literally no one in Middle Earth but Elrond can find us, as long as we stay right here.”

Adar blinked. “What?”

Camnir busied his hands with the crown as he spoke. “Elrond took survivors of the siege North and is building a stronghold there. Some of the paths that lead to it have already become… well, we’re not sure, but we are calling them enchanted. They cannot be found except by those who know where they lead. Strangers may cross over the paths but they cannot follow them. With help of his ring, Elrond has also made a few pockets of land to serve as shelters along the paths, hidden from sight both from friend and foe. We’re in one right now.”

Camnir sighed and set the crown down. “I apologize. Sincerely. I should have been more forthcoming, but… I didn’t want to take any chances. After everything that’s happened, even for me it’s difficult to trust that we are actually safe, but… we are. Some of the shelters are known to Galadriel and Gil-galad. But the one we are in now Elrond made just for me. So, myself and Elrond are the only ones who know how to find it. I do believe our friendship is strong enough to trust him not to betray me.”

Adar took a few slow steps back to the bed and lowered himself to sit next to Camnir.

“I can’t imagine the lieutenant would be amenable to the Uruk using his hiding place, much less you helping us.”

“Oh, Elrond knows you and your children are here. And that I am helping you.”

“Why would he allow such a thing?”

“He… um.” Camnir started fidgeting with the crown once again. “He believes we are married.”

“Why would he believe such a thing?”

“He saw it in a vision. He seems to be developing a gift of foresight.”

Adar frowned. “Not a gift if the foresight reveals falsities. We are not married.”

Camnir shrugged. “Well, when he asked me about it I just said it already happened. He didn’t ask for any details.”

“And… you were not surprised by the question in the first place?”

Camnir shook his head. “No, I had a vision too. When I first found your camp, it wasn’t an accident. It was shown to me.” He bit his lip then added, “Not that it was actually that difficult to find.”

Adar silently agreed with that. When you get stabbed 97 times and lose that much blood you aren’t particularly primed for hide and seek.

“After I helped you the first time I started having dreams about you,” Camnir continued. “Well. They weren’t really dreams, I suppose. The ring showed me things.”

“Elrond’s ring?” Adar asked.

“No, Galadriel’s. Hers is the only one I’ve come in contact with.”

Considering how insane everyone was about that particular piece of jewelry, Adar could not imagine they would have entrusted it for any length of time with an unarmed mapmaker.

“When did you have possession of Galadriel’s ring?”

“I never did. I was hit by an arrow the night you…. um… strategically borrowed…. Galadriel. She was trying to put pressure on it to stop the bleeding… but then her ring healed the wound. It’s the only reason I survived.”

Adar appreciated his diplomatic wording, but there was no reason now to lie about anything.

“I captured the commander. At the time that was my intention. It was also my of my direction to fire upon your party. I am truly sorry for harming you.”

Camnir didn’t seem particularly affected. “Honestly, it was a stray arrow. I was just in the way. Besides…” He tossed the finished crown aside, looked up to Adar and leaned in closer to him. “If that hadn’t of happened…. I probably wouldn’t be here now.”

Adar closed the space between them and Camnir easily curled into him, bringing a much welcome warmth back to Adar’s chilled body from having unceremoniously dumped a pitcher of cold water over his head a few minutes earlier.

“We can stay here as long as we need to,” Camnir said, settling into Adar’s chest. “After I’m healed up I’ll make contact with Elrond, but I doubt he’ll seek us out in the meantime. I don’t think he’s ready to have a face to face meeting just yet.”

Adar didn’t blame Elrond for that, considering what happened the last time they were face to face.

“He will, though, with time,” Camnir said resolutely.

Adar wrapped his arms around Camnir and whispered jokingly in his ear, “And there’s no way Elrond thinks you have been… strategically borrowed?”

Camnir smiled at this. “He knows I wasn’t coerced. It’s my choice. And it makes me happy.” His words began to grow heavier with sleepiness. “Elrond has been searching for home in his own way for his entire life. So when I told him that being with you and the Uruk feels like home for the first time in my life… he knew to believe me.”

Adar felt suddenly dizzy at the enormity that was at the conclusion of their simple conversation. Not only that he was holding his future husband in his arms, but that in hundreds of years from now, they would end up safe and together…

“Can I touch your hair?” Camnir said, pulling Adar from his overwhelming thoughts.

“It’s… wet,” Adar answered awkwardly.

“Don’t care,” Camnir sighed back.

“Yes,” he answered.

Camnir’s fingertips wound into the few stray locks falling over Adar’s shoulder, and the silky, delicate movement sent tingles through Adar’s entire body.

Adar shifted them down on the bed once more, draping and tucking his cloak over them. Once settled, Camnir reached with his free hand to grasp Adar’s as he burrowed into his chest.

Adar pressed the bridge of his nose to Camnir's temple, and soon Camnir was fast asleep with one hand in Adar’s hair and the other holding his hand. Adar decided to match him, bringing his numb hand to rest at the nape of Camnir’s neck, nested in his thick brown hair.

No map would be able to tell where they would go between the present and the hopeful future that awaited them in their dreams. But with a little hope, and a well placed shelter, they had started in the right direction.