Defender of Happiness

Beriadan = Defender of Men
Alassëa = Happy

Beriadan absently wove a wreath of fragrant green pine needles as they sat by the fire. His eyes scanned the surrounding wood for danger, ever aware of the charge under his protection. The King's daughter, princess Alassëa. He couldn't help himself but smirk, however, as he glanced her way. She didn't look much like a princess at the moment; clad in deerskin breeches, riding boots, a long tunic with hooded capelet, her curls windblown from riding, and the smell of wood smoke about them both.
Of course none of this took away from her beauty; Alassëa remained ever the same fair elleth whether in courtly garb at her father's side, or leather-clad and stained with the blood of a freshly cut deer. He considered himself honored to have the privilege of seeing her in both circumstances, as her guardian.
As a knight in the King's elven army, Beriadan had fought in many battles since the war against Morgoth began ages before. In a recent fight there had been an ambush and he, along with his men, had been captured. Through their torture, many of his soldiers were killed, and even after their ultimate rescue some still faded, spiritually drained from such thralldom. In fear for his knight's life and well-being, the king Finrod gave him the charge of his only daughter's protection; hopeful that such occupation of still serving, and the presence of his child's joyful innocence would uplift the elf with purpose.
It had been near to a century since such responsibility had been given him and he could not deny that the pursuit had been beneficial to perhaps more than one soul.
Rising to walk around their small campground and survey the area once more, Beriadan stepped behind the preoccupied elleth and carefully rested the pine 'tiara' upon her brow. "I thought, my lady, that this might be more appropriate of your station."
Alassëa touched the green crown lightly and looked up to the warrior with a bright smile. "Thank you, Beriadan. Perhaps I should round up some bark and fasten it upon you as armor to make you appear more my knight?" She laughed, tossing a nearby piece at him that he easily deflected.
"I think my sword suffices, but you have my thanks." The guard moved as if toward his bedroll, but not without the last jab. "Of course it is possible I could acquire the correct species of… mud, to distinguish your ranger-like qualities and none would suspect your ever having been a princess!" Immediately following this delivery the elf made his hasty retreat up the nearest tree to escape the lady's wroth, laughing as she sputtered and stood to attack.
Drawing her archer's arm back, the elleth hurled pieces of kindling at him until her accuracy over-came his evasion and a small-ish piece struck him directly on the head. "You would do well to make your mind up, Beriadan, whereas now you force me to do so in your stead!" With a self-satisfied grin, Alassëa trotted up to the tree and watched on the way as her guardian grasped dramatically at his head and let himself fall from the not-so-high branch he'd perched upon, grunting a little when he landed in a heap upon a few not-so-soft roots.
Brandishing another twig of kindling as if a sword, Beriadan's charge quickly came and planted a knee upon his chest to further immobilize him, smiling as she gave him an ultimatum. "I'm feeling benevolent, so here is one more chance for you, sir. What shall I be, hmm? A royally crowned princess, hardly fit enough to draw myself a glass of water, let alone a sword from its scabbard? Or wild ranger, so focused on taking my prey that I do not sleep or bathe for three moons, together?" Expectant eyes of blue looked down at him, far from nonplussed by his 'show' of being truly harmed by her assault.
Peaking from behind a lifted hand to his brow, Beriadan smirked and gazed up at her through the night's veil, thinking of some comment that would be appropriate and satisfying. "Alassëa, I can-- with confidence-- describe you as neither weak with circlet, nor filthy with skill." Softened by this assertion, the maiden let down her guard just enough for him to pounce and turn them over several times on the forest floor until she was unarmed and held down. He smiled handsomely when her struggles remained futile and an amused, yet irritated, face looked up to meet his. "Well, perhaps a little weak and somewhat filthy." Proceeding to pick away dead leaves from a few curls, he regarded her a moment longer, releasing the good-natured princess before that good nature wore off.
"Fine, if you—" Alassëa began to make her retort as she stood to brush herself from fallen greenery but stopped when the 'thunk' of an arrow finding its mark reached her hearing and she looked up in horror to see the knight's arm pierced through. Searching the woods urgently for the origin of the threat, she ran and pulled Beriadan behind the tree to shield him at least for a moment. "Your arm…"
"I'll live. Get the horses." He spoke calmly but with a deeper chord of authority in his voice and she obeyed, gathering her quiver and hastily stringing her bow on the way. Finding their steeds already alert to the attack, Alassëa mounted her gelding and brought Beriadan's animal close behind, wincing as he climbed painfully atop with the arrow still embedded in his arm.  Other arrows had shot into the tree and ground where they had been and Alassëa drew a shaft of her own, ready to retaliate, before her arm was taken in a firm grasp and Beriadan urged their horses forward with a command.
"'Tis no use aiming when they're hidden. Come!" His words made frustrating sense, but she was forced to listen as she was carried off and away from their campground at a steady gallop. As the impending danger faded, Alassëa found her eyes drawn frighteningly to his wound, the linen of his tunic staining black with the color of night-shadowed blood. Even as they rode, he caught her eye and gave the, 'I'll be fine, just focus on what you're doing,' look.
She hated that look. "Beriadan! We must tend to your arm!" She was acknowledged with a stiff nod and soon he pointed ahead toward a creek where they would stop. Quickly, she dismounted once they had reached it and moved to help him down from great horse. "I should not have distracted you earlier, forgive me."
"Lass, don't do that." He stopped her, not desirous of apologies. With a frown, Alassëa drew a knife from her waist and began cutting at the thick shaft on one side of his arm. Beriadan grimaced as the head came off and she slipped the length through the wound, but his eyes remained fixed on her face and the concerned expression there. "This isn't the first shot I've taken, you know."
The elleth frowned further but lifted her eyes to meet his. "Aye, but it's the first I've been present for, and… I'd rather it not to have been you." Her troubled focus returned to his cleaning and bandaging.
"Should it have been aimed at you, still would I have taken it."
The honest declamation stilled Alassëa's movements and she kept her face lowered. "I'd rather not talk of such things, Beriadan." Of course she knew that the elf had been assigned to her protection, and that such things were supposed to be said as the guardian to a princess. Only it seemed to her that sometimes… sometimes Beriadan spoke them with a dedication that felt far stronger than the commitment a sentry might feel for his wall. And this wall was growing quite fond of her sentry.
The knight waited a moment, smiling gently at the flush his eyes perceived upon white cheeks, before finally acquiescing. "Yes, my lady."