When the Inexperienced Falter

Dis: Loswen and the words in this order and plot belong to me, the rest to JRR Tolkien. No harm intended.

Loswen, wife of Legolas, Prince of Mirkwood, was grieved.

There was no peril, there was no loss, there was only doubt. Doubt that hung over her mind like a...a...shadow. She knew nothing of the Orc attacks that became more frequent at the borders of her Lord's already reduced kingdom. She knew nothing of the shadow that had taken hold in Southern Mirkwood. All she knew was that something troubled those around her. She sat, staring out of her window, wondering at the world that turned around her. No more than 500 years in age the world was still a new place to her, she had never left Mirkwood, she had never seen anyone but elves. She was...sheltered.

She had been but 300 when she met the prince...he had been smitten with her and herself with him. Her life was monotonous, to say the least, but she had been content with it. The shadow plagued her, but no more than a persistent itch, she simply pushed it to the back of her mind. But this fret was to change. With the lifting of the shadow that hung over her mind, a more personal one would replace it, deeper and more painful.

She peered out of the window in the elvenking's hall. A man approached, t'was no elf. He was...strange, short brown hair he bore, hair...on his face? His ears...rounded? And his general appearance was un-kept, aye, this was no elf. None of her kindred, well, at least those who dwelt in Mirkwood, appeared as such. She gasped, what was that with him? It was wretched...it screeched, it clawed at the man who had it bound. A strange world we live in, she thought. The man was being escorted into the halls, for the first time in a century, curiosity peaked in her, she ventured to her door, to make for the halls. The second she opened the door there stood a maid,

"What is wrong? Are you not content, is there something you desire?" The woman questioned, almost nervously. Princess Loswen never went to get something, she never seemed to ask for anything. She didn't seem to like to trouble people. She should not be wandering around with a human in the halls. Loswen did not immediately reply, she seemed to be pondering something.

Loswen sighed, that may very well be the question, was she really content? She had always thought herself free. If she wished to leave and travel around Middle-Earth, she could. Where had that thought come from? Travel around Middle-Earth, how strange. She had never really desired anything, except someone to love and to love her, and the snow. Mirkwood had provided her all of these. Every year she was blessed with beautiful snow and soon she was blessed with someone to love. Perhaps too soon? No, t'was no fault of Legolas, he would give her anything her heart desired, but perhaps her own lack of change and curiosity had caused these seeming restrictions placed upon her. She pushed it to the back of her mind, what good could come of these thoughts?

"Tis nothing," Loswen lied, "I merely thought to see my husband, but the desire has...passed."

The maid seemed satisfied and bowed, leaving Loswen at the door. She pulled the door shut and took her seat at the window. I will feel better, she thought, if I placed this concern with those of the shadow in my mind.

So she did.


**Chapter 2**


***A year later***

Legolas was infuriated. Gollum had escaped. Nothing good could come of this event, the news needed to be reported to Elrond, he would surely pass the news on to Gandalf. T'was no-one better to deliver this news than Legolas himself, he had seen to the guard arrangement of Gollum and therefore some of this fault fell to him, alas, in his eyes it all fell to him.

He entered his chambers, there, on her usual seat near the window sat Loswen. She had taken to the seat over the past year, instead of the usual peaceful and satisfied look, her eyes had taken on a longing look. She looked at the window as if she was on the verge of jumping just to leave the halls, yet she did not seem to realise this.

Such a beautiful elven maid had never graced the world in Legolas' eyes. A strange child, so young, so innocent, so...bewitching. When he had first seen her, lying, almost dead in the snow...hair so silver and pale it was if the snow had washed through it and stripped it and her eyes, the colour of the deeps of Mirkwood, black to a casual observer, but when studied, simply dark green.

Her lips, now reddened by the maids, carried a blue-ish tinge, like she was dead. She appeared dead when she settled down to sleep, Legolas remembered finding her in the snow, he had thought it was a dead person, but no, she was just sleeping. She was no particular beauty, infact, she looked faded and worn. Her features were all slightly too small for her face, her hair hung limply, as if there was no life at all in it.

After Legolas had first met her, he had been enthralled, he had sought all of the information on her available. Celebalph had been her childhood name, given at birth, silver swan, yet her mother had named her, snow maiden. Her hair had lightened, as he had first suspected, and was once the colour of the moon itself, but her loved of the snow had, indeed, caused it to be lightened to an almost white colour.

He approached her, she turned, and looking at him with adoration, the look of longing in her eyes was quickly replaced with joy to see him. Yet he was saddened, he had come here to tell her of the unfortunate news,

"Gollum has escaped, I am to journey to Rivendell to inform Lord Elrond." There, he had said it. The joy was replaced with a mix of emotions; shock, disappointment, sadness, anger, fear and then they all disappeared.

"Very well, Legolas, may I ask of you something?"

Legolas was intrigued, she rarely asked for anything, he would be happy to give her anything, gifts he had given her in the past had been appreciated, but when she did not ask for something she really didn't want anything. He would give her the world.

"Of course," he kissed her cheek gently, "I would give you the world" he whispered into her ear.

Loswen had been going to ask to perhaps go riding, she had learnt of the perils at the borders of her Lord's realm after the visit of the ranger and therefore had put off asking. Curiosity had finally gotten the better of her, she wanted to see more than the woodland realms. She had heard there were places where it snowed all of the year. But now, Legolas himself had presented her with an opportunity, Rivendell was a haven, other elves and many different races frequented it. Perhaps a trip there would stave off some of this longing.

"I would like to see Rivendell, can I come with you?"

Ah, it made sense, the look in her eyes. Legolas finally understood, she wanted to see things, she had never left Mirkwood! This was what was wrong with her, he should have seen it in such a young elf. Legolas had been about her age when he had first felt a longing to see places, to leave Mirkwood. He paused, was this really the safest idea? What if she got hurt? What if something happened with the Orcs? He calmed himself, he was over reacting, it would be fine, he was, after all, a simple messenger.

"Of course, my love," he answered.

***


**Chapter Three**


Loswen emerged from Mirkwood, the dark trees contrasted sharply with the grassy slopes. It extended for miles! Was the world really this big? She halted her horse and gasped. It had taken them days to travel through Mirkwood, she had never ventured this far from her home in all of her life. It was amazing! Legolas had paused beside her, he smiled at her.

"Come Loswen, if we stay to stare at this all day I fear we shall never reach Rivendell!" He urged his horse forward, to catch up with the men that had accompanied them. Loswen's horse swiftly followed suit.

Legolas stood at the foot of the pass that led into the Misty Mountains, they had set up camp here, braving the mountains tomorrow. This is where his greatest fear for Loswen was. She seemed enthralled by everything around her. She had stared at a dead Orc's body for half an hour, before he had pulled her away. This was strange, he did not remember being drawn to such things and such details when he had first left Mirkwood. True, he had not been so protected as Loswen. The elves that had come with them had been telling her tales of winters they had spent in the mountains and places where it snowed all year around. They were telling her one of these tales now. Legolas listened,

"...when I awoke in the morning, the snow was up to here," The elf telling the story was gesturing to his mid chest, Curudin, Legolas noted, always over exaggerated.

Loswen's eyes shone, she smiled and said, "I hope one day I see snow that is that high...I should like to make a home for myself in the snow. Each day being able to go out and lay in the snow..."

"Surely you would grow weary of it, after sometime," one of the elves said, Aldaedhel.

She shook her head, "I would never grow weary of snow, you could leave me 50,000 years in a land of snow, I'd sleep in it, I'd rejoice everyday as a new layer of snow covered the other layers. To wake up, each morn, and see an untouched paradise, to know it would be made new the next day," she sighed, "yet, now, I find myself longing to see more of Middle-Earth, tis strange, never would I have thought I would have this ...desire..." Loswen trailed off.

There was silence in the group for a few moments, until, one of the elves placed an arm around her and cheerfully replied, "ah! You are young! Tis only growing, nothing to be afraid of, fulfil you desires! See Middle-Earth! 'Tis much to see, and I have seen much but still the sight of Mirkwood warms my heart!"

Legolas watched as this comment seemed to lift Loswen's spirits somewhat. She seemed to be becoming depressed, he had done what she had asked, had he not? Perhaps the snow in the Misty Mountains would lighten her spirits somewhat. He lay down and was swiftly drawn into the realm of dreams.

As the fire died down, Loswen made her way to where Legolas slept, his eyes open, his face peaceful, he was the one thing on which her feelings had not changed. She still loved him and was still as smitten with him as she had been when she had first met him. She remembered the look of horror mixed with relief on his face when he had woken her in the snow. She slid down next to Legolas and whispered him good night.

*

Morning had dawned and Loswen was ecstatic, the Misty Mountains were amazing! There was snow up to her thighs, well, at least it would have been if she hadn't gotten off of her horse to walk in it. The elves accompanying them kept suggesting she get back onto her horse before she freeze. She kept telling them that snow could never freeze her. Never in Mirkwood had she seen so much of something she loved. There was no earth to dirty the snow either, only rocks. The elves were cold, not as much as any other race would have been, though. Loswen, however, was not, the elves escorting them were amazed, never had they seen someone so happy to see snow.

When it came time for setting up camp, Loswen slowly wandered away and went in search of deeper snow, to lie in for a while and think.

Aldaedhel watched his princess wander away from where the others were making the camp, he watched his prince watch her go. He would have been alarmed by her leaving, although, as the prince saw her leave and showed no concern, he was settled. Aldaedhel had never seen an elf who liked snow so much, t'was abnormal! Her love of snow was apparent to someone who did not know her, or had not heard her talk. Her name, 'snow maiden' was the first clue, the next, her colour, she was, by the Valar, one of the palest elves he had ever seen, her hair was faded and washed out and her lips held a blue tinge that he had never seen before. When he had first noticed it, he had thought she was freezing! He had suggested that she mount her horse again. Legolas had calmed Aldaedhel by telling him that her lips were naturally that colour, that the maids reddened them. Aldaedhel's mind wandered on the thought of the prince and princess as a couple. He had never really given any thought to the idea of the prince marrying someone so much younger than himself. Legolas was almost 6 times her age. What a strange couple they made, his shining beauty, as bright as the sun and Loswen, a washed out version of the prince, but only in looks.

Legolas noticed that Loswen had not returned to camp, how strange, she had been gone an awful long time. He followed her small and light tracks and went to find her. After nearly half an hour of walking he rounded a corner and found her asleep on the snow. She had fallen asleep, how dead she looked. Legolas slowly woke her, she looked confused at first and then realised where she was.

"I must have fallen asleep, I'm sorry you had to come to look for me" she told him.

Legolas smiled, "does not matter, what do you think of the world outside of Mirkwood so far?" He asked.

"It's wonderful!" She exclaimed, "is there really snow here all year?"

"Aye, there is, and there's goblins too," she gasped, Legolas did his best goblin impression and she laughed.


***

**Chapter Four**


On the eve of the 20th day they approached the valley of Rivendell. When they reached the edge and peered over, Loswen was overwhelmed. Never had she seen anything so inviting! It was a paradise! They slowly descended down to the house she had spotted only moments ago. The house seemed to be in uproar, many people were arriving. She watched a man speed past her, she gasped, t'was the man she had seen last year...the filthy one! There were three very short people talking with each other, all had curly hair and ears almost like hers.

"Hobbits," Legolas whispered to her. Slowly he pointed out different people and told her who and what they were. The blond elf by the stables was Glorfindel, the four short men, although not as short as the hobbits, with long beards were dwarves. The woman with the flowing brown hair was Arwen, Lord Elrond's daughter. Legolas didn't know who the other un-kept human by his horse was, although he guessed him to be the messenger of some king. Many elves raced about. Two elves sat talking, Erestor, chief councillor to Elrond, and with him, Galdor from the Grey Havens.
Slowly the 6 of them got off of their horses. Elrond greeted them, Legolas was introducing her, Loswen noted.

"...and this is my wife, Loswen of Mirkwood." Loswen bowed.

"Tis a pleasure to meet you, alas, I cannot linger here, I must see to an injured patient that has just awoken." Elrond rushed off.

The trouble she had sensed in the people of Mirkwood was nothing compared with the inhabitants of Rivendell. Thinking of troubled faces brought up the shadow that hung over her. She had become so good at suppressing things, alas, this was starting to irritate her. I must talk to Legolas about that, she noted.

***

Glorfindel watched the party from Legolas arrive, for him to be sent on an errand the news must not only be important, but probably bad. It was all they needed, would no one arrive at Rivendell with good news? Or someone that did not seek help? As Glorfindel saw Loswen being helped down, he paused, perhaps this was not a message, perhaps it was...a holiday? If it was, it was very ill-y timed indeed.

He again paused to watch the Lady being introduced to Lord Elrond, ah, she was Loswen, Princess of Mirkwood. With the world such as dangerous place Legolas dared to bring his wife riding with him. How very strange.

Glorfindel had never before seen the Princess of Mirkwood and judging by her expression, she had never seen many people before. Looks could be deceiving when they concerned elves. To his eyes she seemed perhaps a few years younger than Legolas himself. He studied her slowly, nay, more than just a few years younger, she had not even reached 1,000 and Legolas was well past it. Then it clicked, she was young and had not yet seen the world, or the people that inhabited it. What a better and safer place than Rivendell! Indeed, Legolas may be carrying a message, but she was surely here to see new things.

***

Legolas had gone, he had been called to a council. He had left Loswen in the very capable hands of Aldaedhel. The rooms that had been assigned to the Mirkwood party, had, luckily, a window that faced the main entrance into the house. Loswen sense that this may have had something to do with Legolas. She wanted to meet the other people here. She had sometimes heard people in the elvenking's halls talking about people she saw, or races. She was grateful that she hadn't listened. Their opinions seemed to be fixed and many of their comments were quite slanderous. Loswen was trying to decide who she would like to meet, it would have to be someone not at the council, she decided, as they would not be free. That ruled out the kind old hobbit she had met yesterday, and the brown ill one that had been in bed. It also ruled out Glorfindel, Galdor and Erestor. Hmm, the dwarves appeared to be there as well. Loswen had wondered on the purpose of the council, she knew that something threaten Middle-Earth and judging by Legolas' expression when he had been talking to others, loosing Gollum was a very grave error. Aha! She knew who was not at the council! The other hobbits! Mippin and Perry?

Aldaedhel watched Loswen try and decide on who to go and see. She was taking this awfully seriously, there would be time to see them all! He chuckled. She seemed to have decided,

"I think I would like to see the hobbits, Mippin and Perry."

*

Loswen walked silently into the chamber where Merry and Pippin were seated, talking arguing about…she listened carefully. They were hungry! They were talking about how many times elves ate a day.

"Three meals," she answered from the other side of the room, "well at least in Mirkwood we do." They were clearly shocked, she wasn't sure if it was that they hadn't heard her enter the room or at the meals that elves ate. "How many times a day do you eat?" She asked.

"A lot more," one of them answered, stressing the word 'lot'. Well, Loswen had come here with a purpose, and what a better way to start a conversation as food was something these hobbits seemed quite passionate about. And so she began… "what do you call your meals…?"

Loswen learnt their names weren't Mippin and Perry, she had been close, but no, their names were Merry and Pippin. The Shire sounded like a terribly strange place to Loswen, and the meals that they ate! No wonder they had been discussing it, to them, elves must seem like they were on a diet! She would have shown them where the kitchen was, but alas, she did not know where it was. The hobbits and herself talked about a lot of things, just as it was her first time out of Mirkwood, it was their first time out of the Shire. Although, her first trip seemed to have faired much better than theirs. The black riders sounded terrible, and when they told her what had happened to their friend Bilbo Baggins when he had passed through the Misty Mountains she was truly thankful.

There was one point in their telling of Bilbo's story that perplexed her somewhat. They had told her that Bilbo's company had been imprisoned in the elvenking's halls. How strange, surely she would remember that, she had, after all, been living in the halls at the time. Perhaps she had been more sheltered than she had, at first, believed. Was she that oblivious to her surroundings?

Aldaedhel had watched Loswen talking with the Halflings. As he tired, neither of them seemed to. The stories and tales both of them were telling, the places they were describing, he had seen and heard a thousand times. He wondered how much longer the council would go on. When the prince returned he could take his place and Aldaedhel could retire to his rooms. As if on cue the prince entered the room, his face grave.

"Tis not good news," he said simply, seeming not to notice the two hobbits. "There is peril ahead and I would not wish it on anyone to be with the ones that must go."

"What is it?" Loswen asked.

Legolas was pulled immediately back to the fact that the Halflings were in the room. "We shall talk later," he turned to Aldaedhel, "you can go now, I shall guide my wife."

Aldaedhel nodded and left the room.

*

Elrond had been debating, whom should he send. His house, at the moment, contains some of the most able people of Middle-Earth. Frodo, Sam and Gandalf, the three were assured. Nine Walkers to be set against the Nine Riders, yes, that would be the best course of action. Each race, now that would seem fitting. Gimli, young and eager enough, as proved in the council. Boromir and Aragorn, they needed to travel to Minas Tirith, obvious choices, and there weren't that many humans around here to choose from. Who for elves…Elrond pondered this deeply. He could send an Elf-lord, Glorfindel, perhaps, his sons, the group…the Fellowship, would need the best skills. Legolas, of Mirkwood! One of the best archers in Middle-Earth and his senses were amazing even for an Elf. Thranduil may not be too happy about having his heir being sent on a perilous journey, the best were needed to ensure the safety of Middle-Earth.

Elrond called to a servant immediately, "send for Gimli and Legolas".

*

"…would be my honour to lay down my life to protect Middle-Earth and represent the Elves," Legolas finished.

Elrond was pleased, both had agreed without hesitation, now all he needed to do was decide on the final two members.

*

Legolas returned to the rooms he shared with Loswen, he was to go to Mordor with the Fellowship. He couldn't believe that he had agreed so readily, as he approached the door to where Loswen sat, he paused. He had not even considered her, how utterly selfish, he could not even pull out now. Legolas may have just sealed her fate as a widow. He scolded himself, how was he going to explain this to her…

"Loswen," she turned around, "I come bearing news, its type, for you to decide."

She was perplexed, he looked so solemn, oh dear, what had happened? "What has happened?"

"Lord Elrond had decided that a group of Nine Walkers will be set against the Nine Rider, to go to Mordor, to destroy the One Ring. Each race of Middle-Earth is to be represented. He…he asked if I would represent the Elves…and…and…I…agreed." She looked hurt…

Loswen could not understand it…why would he do something like this without even consulting her? Was she not his wife? Did she not need him as much as the people of Middle-Earth? They could have other saviours, other representatives, he was hers. Never had she felt so possessive over something.

"Why…?" She choked out.

"I…do not know."

Loswen turned and fled the room.

*

It had started snowing sometime in the middle of the night, and now, near dawn, the snow covered the ground like a thick blanket. Loswen was lying, she had tired of weeping and now lay sleeping in the snow.

Glorfindel was walking, t'was a wonderful night and the dawn would surely be as splendid. He was thinking about all that was happening, he had just returned from gathering information for Lord Elrond. Was he to be sent on the quest? He doubted this, he would probably be sent out as a messenger, bringing news of the Fellowship to those that could help them. Knowing Lord Elrond Lothlorien would probably be his destination. As he rounded the corner he gasped, there on the snow lay a she-elf, Legolas' wife, dead, frozen. He rushed to her side and disturbed the snow as he went. As he put a hand down to her face her eyes opened and he saw that she drew breath! Surely she must be freezing, even he was slightly cold.

She blinked, knocking snow off of her eye lashes. "Hurry m'lady, you will freeze, you are a scold as ice now!" She didn't seem disturbed in the slightest.

Loswen had been crying, how could he be doing this to her? Who would she travel Middle-Earth with, who would father her children? Who would she spend eternity with? She had fallen asleep, in the thick snow. Someone had awoken her, she looked up and blinked. All she saw was the most brilliant golden hair, what a beautiful elf, she thought. The opposite of her pale silver Legolas. She jolted up, Legolas, how could he? The elf staring at her, a horrified look on his face was Glorfindel, he had been gone for many weeks. She bet he would never leave his wife, if he even had one, to go traipsing around Middle-Earth on some deadly quest.

"I am fine," she said, "I was merely sleeping."

"You are not fine, Loswen of Mirkwood. You lips are blue and you are cold to the touch."

"My lips are always blue, m'lord, and I care nothing for the cold." She said sadly.

"If it is not the cold that troubles you," Glorfindel continued, as he noticed that something was wrong with her, "then what is it?"

She signed, should she confide her troubles with a stranger? Why not, who else was she going to tell? "Tis my husband, he has done a careless thing without consulting me."

"What has he done?"

"He has agreed to go and see the ring destroyed. I feel that he has placed me below everything else in the world." She finished

Glorfindel lowered his gaze, her sadness was enticing, it drew him in and made him want to weep. Perhaps comforting her was the best option, "he does a brave thing, he places his own interests before those of Middle-Earth, he risks his own life for you, for those he cares about."

"He has not put his own interests before those of Middle-Earth, he is an adventurous spirit, if this was not something he wished to do he would not have agreed without consulting me."

"He does a great service, he is one of the finest archers in Middle-Earth, he knows Lord Elrond asked him for a reason, he is needed. Lord Elrond has foresight, there must be some important role that is to be played by him."

Loswen sighed, there was no point trying to make someone who thought that this was for the good of them all, see sense. Glorfindel was continuing,

"Although, if you were my wife, I would have consulted you."

"What would your wife say, if you had done what Legolas has?"
"I do not know, for I do not have a wife."

"Oh," perhaps this is why he could not understand, and perhaps also why he was so devoted to Lord Elrond.

"Come now, m'lady, tis cold out here and can be doing you no good."

"It cools my thoughts, for I feared that I would say some regrettable things, you know what they say, Anger is a condition in which the tongue works faster than the mind."

"Are you still not cooled? Or perhaps you just wish to avoid someone that may be inside," Glorfindel suggested with the hint of a smile.

"Aye, tis both."

"Well then come then, out of the cold, into my rooms, Legolas will surely not be found there." Loswen nodded and followed Glorfindel into the house.

***

**Chapter Five**

***

It had been five long days, Loswen had not spoken to Legolas, he was fretting beyond all belief.

Legolas sat staring out of the window and looked at her talking with Glorfindel. She smiled, he sighed. Legolas heard someone approach, he tensed, a familiar voice spoke,

"Do not worry, Master Elf, it is only a weary ranger." Aragorn said, "what troubles the Prince of Mirkwood?"

"The Princess of Mirkwood," Legolas replied softly.

"She still doesn't speak to you?"

"Nay, she seems to prefer the company of Glorfindel, how could I have messed up so? Surely there must be some part of her that understands why I must do this?"

"Aye, she understands, but she is only a young bride afraid to loose her husband"

"We have been married long than you have been alive, Aragorn"

"Yet in elven years, she is younger than me."

"What would you have me do? I have only a few days before we depart and I must go."

"Talk to her, she knows why she must go, but as time is something you don't have, talk"

*

Loswen sat talking to Glorfindel, never had she met someone so light-hearted, not since a certain elf, two hundred years ago. Glorfindel made her laugh, and made her think about things. The best part was his age, he was old and had seen so many things. He had done what she yearned to do. He told her of the south, the lands near Mordor, snow was rare there, evil lurked there, she had decided perhaps she would leave travelling to the southern lands to a time when she was guarded by many elves. Her temper had cooled and she almost felt ready to talk to Legolas. She knew he had to go and not talking to him was wasting perhaps some of the last time they would have together.

Legolas surely could read her mind, because he approached. Glorfindel looked at her, smiled, got up and left. Legolas sat down.

He went to open his mouth to speak, but before he could she placed a finger over his lips. "I know what you have to say," she told him, "I know it cannot be changed, but why dwell on these thoughts in the time that we have left…we should be enjoying this time."

Legolas slowly nodded. She reached over to kiss him and led him to their room.

*

The day had finally arrived, Legolas was leaving, tears slid down Loswen's face, knowing that this might very well be the last time she ever saw her husband, she wished that she had a child that could comfort her at times like these. Something to remind her of Legolas. She sighed and hugged Legolas, she never wanted to let go.

Elrond was saying something, probably something very simple in a dramatic voice. And that was it, they were gone.

Loswen turned and buried her head in Glorfindel's chest. This gained, from the onlookers some suspicious glances. Loswen was not to return immediately to Mirkwood, Rivendell, she felt, brought her more peace than Mirkwood and all its memories of Legolas ever could. Loswen knew of the perils of the journey from Legolas himself, had he not said, ' "I would not wish it on anyone to be with the ones that must go." ' Yet he had gone himself.

Loswen wept as if Legolas were already dead; Loswen wished for, at times like these, close friends. She had never really had any close friends, her mother had been her confidant until she had been killed and after her mother, Legolas who was now gone.

Days of crying turned into weeks, until finally she realised something. She did have someone to confide in, someone to go to seek solace, she had Glorfindel. And that's what she did, sought solace in Glorfindel. With all of Loswen's longing for Legolas, her longing for something to remind her of him, someone to love and to love her in return, this combination, to someone with a clear mind, could result in nothing but disaster. A joyful disaster (a little bundle of joyful disaster...), but disaster nonetheless.