There was something joyfully serene about this, Wren thought to herself. The soft summer colours of Rohan, warm sun, cool breezes, the even gait of Avása under her, the low musical speech of the two elves conversing beside her... She could only understand a little of the language, though her store of words was increasing all the time, but it was so pleasant to be in amiable company, on such a journey, that she gave it no mind. Besides, from what she could understand, the elves were talking about mutual friends, people she did not know, and events that were far in the past. Had they been significant, she was sure Silindë would switch to Westron - he never missed a chance to teach her a little more of their heritage - and include her in the conversation. As it was, she was unconsciously learning the cadence of the tongue, and its structure...
After four days, however, she'd begun to pay more attention, asking if they would speak to her only in Sindarin and she would reply in the same tongue, deciding that this would be the fastest way for her to learn the language. And while it was a little frustrating to start with, she was slowly finding her comprehension increasing.
Lothlórien was a twenty day ride at a gentle, leisurely pace, and neither of the elves seemed inclined to hurry. They spent the nights either camped under the stars, or in the villages and settlements encountered on their path, made welcome by wide-eyed admiring humans. Wren had felt awkward, initially, being treated as though she were... nobility, but the elves accepted it - courteously but nonchalantly - and she followed their lead.
There was one thing that puzzled her though, and that was the seeming intimacy between her travelling companions. She knew how much Éomer King and Haldir loved each other - so why were he and Silindë so... close, touching each other, kissing, embracing? She couldn't swear to it, but she suspected that they even shared a bed when they halted at villages overnight.
Wren's questions regarding the nature of the elves' relationship were settled one night, though, as the trio drew close to Lothlórien. After a pleasant day's ride they'd camped a little way off the path, at the side of a clear, shallow riverlet overhung with willows. Wren was pricked from sleep by a soft noise sounding over the quiet chatter of the water. The half-elf blinked, twisting a little on her bedroll so she was looking in the direction of the sound… and froze.
Haldir and Silindë were… were…
Wren blushed furiously, fervently glad her cloak was drawn up almost to her eyes. She couldn't force herself to look away, though, the males were so… beautiful… They were naked, pale skin seeming almost to gleam under the delicate light of the young moon. Silindë was on his stomach, with Haldir - somehow Wren was not surprised it was Éomer King's advisor taking the dominant role - stretched along the length of him. The 'lórien elf was supporting his weight on his elbows, lean hips curling rhythmically backwards and forwards as he dipped his head to first nibble then suck one of Silindë's graceful ear-tips. The gold-haired elf moaned, little more than a sigh as Haldir thrust sharply a last few times then he quivered, biting his lip. Panting, Haldir dropped his forehead to Silindë's smooth shoulder and the elves held still together for a few moments. Their breathing slowed apace and only then did they slide apart, Haldir settling at Silindë's side, covering them both with one of the discarded cloaks.
Wren didn't dare move - what would they think of her if they knew she'd been watching? - until finally she was certain the lovers were asleep. Sleep was elusive for her, though, she had much to think on, all of it disturbing in a not unpleasant manner. The half-elf couldn't imagine Haldir doing aught that would cause the King grief, so did that mean Éomer King knew of his advisor's relationship with the Lasgalen elf? Did he approve?
Beneath the cloak Wren curled in on herself remembering the look of bliss on Silindë's face during those last few moments. She knew, in theory at least, that physical intimacy could be… pleasant, indeed Feldag was anticipating that aspect of her marriage with delight, but until now the possibility had been naught for Wren but an indistinct notion. She found herself wondering what might have happened if Vëassë hadn't frightened her and if - if - she hadn't resisted… Hesitantly, the young peredhil reached up to gently touch the tip of her ear. She knew the points were sensitive but she'd never deliberately sought to touch them as a lover would, as Haldir had touched Silindë. Dark eyes widened and Wren snatched her hand away. The sensation went beyond pleasant but was wholly unnerving: this was not something she was ready for, it seemed. The girl decisively tucked her hands beneath her armpits and directed her mind to innocuous images of her beloved horses, distracting herself sufficiently from the vague tingling ache low in her belly that she was able, at last, to fall asleep.
Haldir roused first, stretching languidly and smiling at the peredhil's resting figure: he'd been fully aware of being watched last night. Not wishing to embarrass Cirince any further, he pulled on leggings before prowling to the stream to wash.
Wren woke to the sound of faint splashing, and rolled over to find herself gazing at Haldir's naked, scarred back as the elf knelt at the water's edge, cupped hands dashing cold pure water over his skin, droplets glittering in his hair and on his arms. She shivered, remembering last night and wondering how she would face him without blushing...
A long, satisfied sigh distracted her, and she turned her head to see Silindë smiling at her, stretching widely, sun-coloured hair tumbled about his shoulders and over the bedroll.
"Good morrow, Cirince. Did you sleep well?"
She managed to nod, though it felt as though her face were afire, and he pulled himself up to sit, the cloak covering him to the waist.
"I am glad of it..." He glanced at Haldir, now returning from the stream, sparkling with waterdrops as he shook his hair. "Shall we break our fast, meleth, or do you wish to put more miles behind us first?"
"Oh, eat, I think." The advisor reached into his pack, carefully pulling out the eggs they'd found the previous day, then preparing a small fire of moss and sweet-scented willow twigs. Cirince helped, setting to heat the small pan they'd brought with them, busying herself with the familiar task, and by the time the eggs were cooking Silindë had bathed and dressed - half dressed, at any rate, both elves went bare-chested in the early morning warmth - and joined them by the fire. He gestured to the stream.
"If you wish to bathe, be sure we will respect your privacy."
She smiled at him gratefully: a wash would be most welcome... By the time she returned the eggs were done, served up on thin wooden plates with a little of the bread they'd bought at the last village they'd passed.
Nothing, Cirince thought happily, could surpass the taste of food cooked and eaten in the open air on a sunny morn with good companions beside her.
Half an hour later Silindë called the horses as Haldir pulled on tunic and overtunic and gathered their packs, and ten minutes after that they were moving again - a little faster than previously, Cirince thought. She gazed enquiringly at Silindë, who inclined his head and gestured to Haldir riding ahead of them.
"Haldir has family and friends in Lothlórien, whom he has not seen since... well, since before he died. He is eager to meet with them." The elf shook his head, lips pursed. "No, that's not quite the whole of it. He is eager to reach the Golden Wood to see, also, what has transpired since he was last there."
Cirince nodded slowly. She'd heard part of the story of Haldir's death and return from the Halls of Mandos, but still found it difficult to fathom...
For her own part, she was in an agony of indecision. Yes, she wanted to see her father's homeland, and meet her family - but she still felt human to a large degree, and was wholly uncertain of her reception. Silindë touched her arm gently.
"I will be with you, Cirince Ëarthúliell, even if Haldir cannot be with us the whole time. Do not be afraid."
She offered him a grateful smile, and tried not to show how frightened she really was.
Feldag glowered, and with difficulty held her tongue. Gods but if the elf wasn't the most awkward of creatures!
Three days after the attack and Vëassë was still starting at shadows. The shield-maiden had tried very hard to be understanding but she was rapidly running out of patience, and the elf had reinforced her suspicion of him as a pampered, spoiled brat.
Not that he had actually done anything to annoy her, not deliberately. But he flinched whenever anyone spoke to him, and hardly spoke himself, and wouldn't eat, and was generally... pathetic. She could have understood it had he been a young child, but according to her father he was a hundred and forty eight years old! Still young, as elves went, but certainly old enough to have some fortitude...
And all she had done was suggest they go for a ride! He'd gazed at her for a long moment, then lowered his head, a tear spilling down his cheek, and muttered that Cirince had taken his horse.
Cirince was Wren, that much Feldag knew. She snorted and told him to choose another horse: there were plenty in the stables, all of them proud and well-loved animals, he would find one that suited him.
And the aggravating creature had flinched and nodded agreement and crept out to the stables, finally choosing a mild-natured mare... Feldag had sighed heavily and saddled her own feisty mount, then the pair had joined Gamling, heading towards the wood that Haldir loved...
At the edge of the wooded valley they'd halted, and Feldag watched as Vëassë slid from the horse, his eyes not leaving the green canopy ahead of them. Dismounting herself, she handed her reins to Gamling and followed the elf as he walked into the shadows of the leaves - then cried out as he suddenly leapt upwards, swinging himself onto a broad branch and disappearing into the thick leafy crown.
"Vëassë? Vëassë!" Worried, she hastened further into the cool dimness, listening for any sound of movement, beginning to panic when there was none. Not knowing what else to do, she walked as quietly as she could into the trees.
After an hour she was frantic. There'd been no sign or sound of the elf, and she simply didn't know what to do. Shouting had had no effect except to make her throat sore. Finally she collapsed onto the gnarled roots of a massive oak and sank her head into her hands in incipient despair...
"Not an attitude I'd expect of a shield maiden."
Her head jerked up, hand grabbing her knife before she realised that it was Vëassë, squatting in front of her. She hadn't heard his arrival. Growling, she re-sheathed her knife.
"Most would have the courtesy to announce themselves!"
He eyed her warily.
"But I just did."
She opened her mouth - then realised that in truth, yes he had. In a way. She frowned: he looked a little less haggard than before, his eyes a little brighter.
"The trees are to your liking, Master Elf?"
He stood, sighing, and spread his arms wide, gaze raised to the tree tops.
"They could be nothing else... 'tis an old wood, but friendly to us." His hands dropped as he regarded her impassively. "You have my thanks."
She nodded curtly.
"You feel better now?"
He considered the question, and nodded hesitantly.
"I do... a little."
"Do you want to stay?"
His head swivelled to her, eyes startled, and she shrugged.
"Éomer King says you're to stay until you want to return - as long as that isn't any longer than five days."
The elf smiled!
"Éomer King is most gracious." He gazed upwards, then back at the girl, expression anxious again. "I would like to stay here tonight, if it does not inconvenience you."
Feldag was strongly tempted to throw something at him. Instead she smiled tightly.
"As you wish, Master Elf. Though I'd prefer to sleep outside the wood."
Vëassë nodded.
"And I would prefer to be alone."
"Then it's agreed." She rose to her feet, brushing lichen from her tunic and turning to retrace her steps. "Come and find us tomorrow."
And for one blessed, untroubled night, Vëassë settled himself in the crook of the oak and watched the bright stars, spirit mending under their light - and he sang, quietly, reverently, as the sun arose, blessing the world with her light.
"D'you think we should look for him?"
Feldag sighed and shook her head.
"t'would serve no purpose. If the elf doesn't wish to be found, we'll not find him..."
Gamling snorted quietly and gazed at the sky. Two hours past dawn, and he was eager to return to Edoras. Elves be damned...
Feldag chuckled dryly.
"I'm sure we two could make our own way back in perfect safety, sir, if you wish to leave."
"More than my life's worth." the Rider grumbled quietly. The girl smiled.
"Then we had best make ourselves comfortable and await his pleasure."
"No need."
The two humans jumped, both reaching for their weapons, and Vëassë stepped back, hands raised in alarm. Feldag glared at him.
"Make some noise, damn you!"
He chewed his lower lip, eyes frightened.
"But..."
She sighed loudly and shook her head.
"I'm sorry. You surprised me."
"I apologise."
She blinked, but he was obviously in earnest.
"Thank you - but 'tis no matter." She eyed him curiously. "'tis a useful skill, going unheard. Do all elves have it?"
He nodded, and she inclined her head pensively.
"Can it be taught?"
He smiled.
"I think not."
"Pity." She glanced at Gamling, who was twitching impatiently. "If you are ready, Master Elf, shall we be gone?"
Vëassë gazed out over the plain, towards the tiny glittering star that was the sunlight on the roof of the Golden Hall: for once Feldag could read nothing in his face. After a moment he nodded.
"I must speak with the Captain."
She would have asked him why, but his face had assumed that strange remoteness she'd sometimes seen on Haldir's, and it seemed best not to enquire further.
Cirince turned to Silindë, her eyes wide.
"That's Lothlórien?"
They'd risen early, and Haldir had led them swiftly through the day, until at early evening Cirince saw stretching before her a wide and beautiful forest, the silvery trunks of the trees almost ghostly in the twilight. Silindë beamed at her.
"It is, Cirince."
"My father's home..."
"Yours also. Part of your spirit."
Haldir glanced over his shoulder, then gestured towards the forest.
"Come."
He took off at a fast canter, the others following. At the border they slowed, then dismounted, and Haldir gazed around and above himself, expression hopeful.
After a few minutes a figure dropped silently from the trees before them, approaching warily. Haldir pressed his hand over his heart and bowed.
"Elen síla lúmenn' omentielvo, Ringel."
The other elf nearly dropped his knife.
"Marchwarden H... Haldir?"
Haldir inclined his head.
"I understand from that you were not told."
"That you had returned from the Halls of Mandos? No, I was not!" Ringel laid a hand tentatively on the advisor's shoulder, expression one of wonder, then regarded Haldir, eyes wide. "Forgive me, Marchwarden. 'tis not often one returns from the dead!" His gaze settled on Silindë and Cirince, still mounted a little distance away.
"Mae govannen, travellers. Be welcome."
Silindë slid from Hwesta and offered his hand to Cirince as Haldir introduced them - then the advisor glanced further into the wood, obviously eager to proceed. Ringel nodded.
"I trust you can remember your way?"
Haldir chuckled.
"I believe so, mellon nin. We will not detain you further."
Ringel bowed and departed as silently and swiftly as he'd come - a little too swiftly, Silindë thought, as though he wished to leave them as soon as possible.
The counsellor wondered why.
But he had no leisure to ponder: Haldir was leading them further into the Golden Wood...
Cirince stared up, and up, lips parted in awe. Caras Galadhon... Silindë caught her elbow as she stumbled, her eyes above rather than on the uneven ground at her feet. She smiled her thanks, and Silindë nodded.
"It takes one breath away, doesn't it? Such beauty..."
She swallowed, trying not to gawp, as they began to ascend one of the staircases that wound around the huge trees.
"Is Eryn Lasgalen like this?"
He chuckled.
"No, nothing like. Eryn Lasgalen is but a normal forest - though broad and beautiful in its own right."
Cirince thought - quietly to herself - that that might be easier to live in than this... overwhelming, bewitching, solemn place...
They finally arrived at a shallow platform high in the crown of the mellyrn, and Haldir dropped to his knees and bowed his head at the foot of a flight of steps. And Cirince stared as two elves slowly came down to meet him.
"Lady Galadriel and Lord Celeborn." Silindë whispered helpfully. Cirince forced herself to remember what the counsellor had told her, and tried hard not to stare at the shimmering figures... Galadriel halted on the step above Haldir and bent down, her hands on his shoulders.
"Rise, belovéd child."
The advisor stood, head lowered, and Galadriel looked over his head to Silindë and Cirince, her face sombre.
"Forgive us. We must speak with our kin..." She glanced to one side, and another elf came forward, bowed, then gestured to Silindë and Cirince to follow him...
They were made welcome in one of the telain, fed, shown where to refresh themselves, then left to rest. But Cirince had only time to ask Silindë a couple of questions before the singing started - and moments later Haldir appeared, walking very slowly, his head lowered.
Silindë, his eyes wide and worried, leapt up and hastened to his lover, elegant hands resting gently on broad bowed shoulders. They spoke for a moment, too quietly for Cirince to hear what was said, then Haldir turned and walked slowly away, leaving the counsellor staring after him, expression anguished.
Cirince couldn't see clearly, but she would have sworn that there were tears on Haldir's face...
Silindë returned to her, and she caught his arm anxiously.
"What has happened, Master Silindë? What is wrong with Haldir...?"
He gazed at her, his own eyes bright with unshed tears, and took her hands.
"Haldir... Orophin... died in the War. And Rúmil, believing both his brothers dead, took ship to the Undying Lands..."
"They were his family?"
"All that was left."
Cirince bit her lip.
"He is alone..."
Silindë managed a smile.
"He has us, and Éomer King."
"But it's not the same, is it?"
"... no..."
Cirince swiped a hand across her eyes, remembering. To lose one you loved, one who loved you - could there be anything worse? She swallowed hard and squeezed Silindë's hand.
"Can we help him?"
He shook his head.
"Haldir... he would not wish to be seen grieving. We will give him his solitude." He gestured vaguely around him. "This song - it is for him, and for his brothers."
The half-elf nodded, heart wrenched at the sight of the tears on Silindë's face. This should have been such a happy occasion...
Cirince and a subdued Silindë rested within an airy talan . The peredhil eyed her companion with concern but said nothing to disturb the silence. Haldir had vanished some little time ago and it was clear Silindë was worried no matter that he'd tried to reassure her. Noiseless servitors had provided the travellers with refreshment then melted away out of sight leaving the pair alone.
Wren sat quietly, hands folded in her lap, and settled herself to wait. To wait for what precisely she wasn't entirely sure but it seemed the right thing to do. She glanced out at the forest and smiled softly: this was a wondrously restful place to be.
"May we enter?" the low, musical voice took the half-elf by surprise, she'd not heard anyone approach, but Silindë was already standing, ready to welcome the visitors. Wren scrambled a little less gracefully to her feet as the counsellor ushered two elves - a male and a female - into the talan. They were tall and elegant, both with silky-fair hair that flowed smoothly over their shoulders. Wren smiled uncertainly as the newcomers gazed unblinkingly at her for several long moments.
"Ah…" the female sighed, a sad sound. "You have the look of your sire…"
Wren blinked and the male smiled, inclining his head.
"I am Fëarond, brother to Ëarthúl, and this -" he lifted a graceful hand and indicated the female at his side, who was still gazing at Wren with tears in her lovely, dark eyes. "- is Malwen, your sire's mother."
Surprised and flustered, Wren gave in to instinct and dropped a curtsy to the elves. A frown flashed over Malwen's serene face and Silindë stepped forward. The counsellor bowed slightly and introduced himself before explaining to the pair that Cirince, having spent all her life amongst humans, was not familiar with the ways of the elves.
"I see…" there was sympathy now in the female's eyes and she lifted her hand to gently touch Wren's face. "It would do us honour if you would join us in our talan." She glanced at Silindë. "Both of you…"
The Lasgalen elf accepted with a gracious nod then he and Wren followed the pair back to their family dwelling.
To be honest, Wren was feeling a little overwhelmed, and more than a little out of place despite Silindë's assurances of her elvish heritage. She was distinctly shorter than all the elves she'd met, and she felt less graceful, heavier, as if she was fixed to the earth in some fashion. The girl was acutely aware of the noise she made as she moved through the ancient trees, compared to the soundlessness of her companions. All in all Wren was on the verge of becoming disheartened, or she would have been had it not been for the forest itself. As she had half a century ago, she could hear the trees, not with her ears but within her heart, and she found it a comfort.
The talan of her kin was large and bright but it felt empty. Malwen noticed the look of puzzlement on Wren's face and she smiled sadly.
"Fëarond and I are all of your kin that remain behind. The rest have already left for Valinor."
Wren nodded - Silindë had explained the Undying Lands to her.
Malwen continued.
"I thought about leaving, many times, but something bade me remain." Smiling softly down at the peredhil, she touched Wren's cheek again. "I know now what that was." The slender fingers moved to stroke the girl's lustrous dark and thick hair. "You have your colouring from your mother, I think, Ëarthúl was fair, as am I. Would you tell me of your mother, please? I would like to know her…"
And over the next few hours, until the evening had fallen softly over the forest, Wren spoke. Not only of her mother but, lulled by the gentle acceptance she sensed from Malwen, also of her life and travels until the elder female, acknowledging her grandchild's fatigue, gently called a halt. Silindë politely excused himself after the evening's meal leaving Wren alone with her kin. The peredhil felt a moment of alarm as the Counsellor rose to leave, but only a moment: Wren knew she had nothing to fear from either Malwen or Fëarond.
Malwen took her to bathe in the hot springs close to hand. Eyes closed, Wren slid into the pool of steaming water with a blissful sigh. She and her travelling companions had managed to bathe every day of their journey but the water hadn't always been hot or plentiful.
When she was clean and dry Malwen led the sleepy girl back to the talan, ushering her into a small, welcoming alcove off the main room.
"This was your sire's chamber."
Wren blinked away tears.
"I wish I had known him." she whispered. Malwen pulled the girl to her in a gentle hug.
"Ëarthúl would have been proud of you, pen neth." she brushed a kiss over Wren's dark hair. "Rest now, Cirince, and we will speak again on the morrow."
Wren stretched out on the comfortable pallet then, despite the myriad thoughts circling endlessly in her mind, fatigue overcame her and she quickly drifted off into slumber.
Silindë seated himself on the low bed in the guest talan and wondered what to do. Cirince seemed happy with her new family, and they with her, which was a relief to the elf: he'd had no qualms about leaving her to spend the night with them.
But he was very worried about Haldir. None of the Galadhrim he'd asked knew where the advisor had gone - or if they did, they weren't saying.
Haldir had been grief-stricken. Silindë shivered as he remembered the depth of misery in the haunted blue eyes. He didn't want to let his lover suffer alone...
*Do not interfere, Silindë Nornóion. All will be well.*
He stilled, then swallowed. He'd forgotten Galadriel's ability to speak mind to mind. Timidly he dared a reply.
*I fear for him, my Lady.*
*Your concern does you much credit. But he desires - needs - time to think on his loss, that he may come to understand it. No other should intervene. He will return to you. We have released him from his duty to us.*
The counsellor frowned. It hadn't occurred to him that Galadriel and Celeborn might consider Haldir still theirs to command. Kindly laughter sounded quietly in his mind.
*Indeed, the thought was his, not ours.*
Yes, that sounded like Haldir. Honourable to a fault. He sighed.
*My Lady, where is he?*
*In solitude and quiet contemplation. As he wishes it.*
She wasn't going to tell him, and he didn't wish to overstep the bounds of his welcome. He bowed to the inevitable.
*My thanks, my Lady, for allowing me to know.*
She smiled brightly in his mind, and was gone, and he wondered despairingly how he was going to survive the long restless night he knew lay ahead...
"Silindë?"
He'd been sitting on a branch outside the talan, gazing at nothing, his thoughts circling but always returning to Haldir. Along with everything else that troubled him, he was uneasily aware of his growing feelings for the King's advisor, and even knowing that Haldir would not leave Éomer, that any greater depth of intimacy would result in the pain of yet another lost love, the thought of ending it now hurt. The voice, low and musical, startled him, and he twisted to see who stood at the entrance to the talan. His eyes widened.
"Hithmal?"
The slender, silver-haired elf smiled, a little uncertainly.
"May I come in?"
The counsellor slipped back into the talan, gesturing to his guest to enter. Hithmal embraced him, lightly, without asking anything in return, then gazed at him sadly.
"I regret that you should return under such circumstances..."
Of course. Hithmal knew Haldir well, and would have known Orophin and Rúmil too - probably patrolled with them on occasion. Silindë lowered his head.
"I share your sorrow."
Hithmal eyed his old friend for a moment, then reached to stroke the gold-coloured hair.
"And I yours, mellon nin."
Silindë pulled away slightly, and Hithmal quirked an eyebrow.
"Is my touch now so unwelcome?"
The counsellor turned away and began to pace.
"Forgive me. Much has changed since last we met."
Hithmal watched the Lasgalen elf for a moment, then seated himself on one of the large cushions near the outer partition of the talan.
"Do you wish to share your burdens?"
Silindë paused and regarded his friend. Hithmal had always been a compassionate listener, patient, understanding, but... the counsellor realised that no, he did not wish to talk about anything, he just wanted Haldir to come back... he sighed.
"I am sorry, mellon nin. I am not good company tonight."
"Will you rest?"
"Later. I am not yet tired."
Hithmal could see that that was not true, but Silindë could be stubborn when he wished. The 'lórien elf inclined his head.
"Do you wish me to stay?"
Silindë knelt before him and took his hands.
"'tis a kind thought. But I would be alone. I have much to think on."
Hithmal nodded sadly and rose to his feet.
"Should you wish company, come and find me. Anyone will tell you where I am."
The Lasgalen elf also stood, leaning forwards to gently brush his lips over Hithmal's.
"My thanks, mellon nin."
Hithmal touched his face fondly.
"I could wish it otherwise, but I will leave you to your thoughts. Be well, melethron."
Silindë watched as Hithmal made his way down the mallorn steps, half-tempted to follow him; the talan felt lonely already...
The counsellor closed his eyes briefly, then turned and eyed the bed. Regardless of what he had said to Hithmal, he was indeed very weary. But he knew he would be unable to rest.
Perhaps a walk? Barefoot, he made his own way down to the ground, meandering slowly through the trees, refusing to admit that he hoped he might find Haldir...
Aeldig looked up at the knock at his open door, scowling faintly at the sight of the young elf.
"Enter."
Vëassë took a deep breath and walked into the room, halting before the human and bowing slightly, hand over his heart.
"Well, Master Elf?"
Vëassë folded his hands together and eyed Aeldig sombrely.
"I have come, first, to offer my thanks for your most timely intervention." His voice shook a little on the last word, and he swallowed. "But I would like to know why it was needed in the first place. Why did they... attack... me? I had done them no harm."
Aeldig regarded the elf narrowly for a moment, but Vëassë seemed to be in earnest, seemed genuinely to wish to understand. The captain gestured to the bench opposite, and the elf seated himself, but did not relax. Aeldig growled quietly, then steeled himself to be honest.
"I was at fault in this. 'twas my instruction to them that led to it."
His eyes widened - Vëassë had paled almost to white, his expression disbelieving and horror-struck.
"You... you told them to... to..." He couldn't bring himself to say the word. Wrapping his arms around his ribs, he shivered, watching the human as would a trapped fawn. Aeldig raised his hands, shaking his head vehemently.
"Nay, 'twas not what I meant!" He quietened his voice when the elf flinched, shoulders hunching. "I told them to be... unfriendly towards you. I did not nor would I ever tell them to assault you."
Vëassë bit his lip and tried to control his trembling.
"Why? I did not know you. I had never done you harm. And I have done all in my power to behave as you and my brother wished."
Which was absolutely true, the human realised. The elf had never complained - in anyone's hearing, at least - no matter what he was set to do. The only matter in which he had asserted himself was over bathing, and Aeldig should have been prepared for that, he knew how often Haldir liked to bathe. He lowered his eyes.
"I was ordered to allow you no liberties."
Vëassë's voice shook.
"No liberties? But the humans were permitted them?"
"They were supposed simply to make life uncomfortable for you."
Vëassë yanked back the lock of hair that fell over his ear and turned his head so the captain could see the scars where Raenulf's teeth had almost met in the tip. Aeldig winced, but the elf was growing angry now and didn't notice.
"This is 'uncomfortable'? The... touches, the blows, the insults, the mockery - this is what you would call 'uncomfortable'?" Vëassë shook his head helplessly. "And I could say nothing. And I could do naught to stop it."
"You could have come to me..."
"And have them do worse? It was threatened, should I speak out. But who would want to show himself a weakling amongst them? My life was hard enough without that." His voice was bitter. "You know what happened the one time I tried to stop them."
Raenulf's broken fingers. Aye, he should have realised there was something wrong then. The captain rubbed his forehead.
"I'll not deny it went too far. But you are hardly a paragon of goodness, Master Elf. Think on your actions in the bathing room. Mistress Wren was sore afraid."
Vëassë shook his head irritably.
"I would have seen her fear in a very little while and let her be. I do not force myself on others." He glared at Aeldig. "Unlike you humans. And I have made my peace with Cirince, and been forgiven."
Aeldig folded his hands together on the table between them.
"What do you want, Master Elf? Do you wish to serve punishment yourself? What would you?"
He eyed the elf, bracing himself for the anticipated demands for retribution. Vëassë rubbed at his temples with his fingertips, then looked up at the captain, his expression bleak.
"I want nothing more to do with humans."
Aeldig blinked.
"You would not demand reparation?"
The elf stared at him.
"How can you make reparation for what I have endured? No. I want to go home."
The captain frowned.
"But your brother is on his way to Lothlórien. He will not return for a goodly while."
"Then I will ride to Eryn Lasgalen alone. If I might be permitted the loan of a mount." he added bitterly. Aeldig shook his head.
"I cannot allow it. And you cannot travel alone."
"I cannot stay here!"
"And you cannot leave. 'tis a quandary, is it not?"
Vëassë rose to his feet and bowed his head.
"I thank you for your time, Captain. I trust you will understand that I can no longer train with the Rohirrim. And I will return to my brother's lodging for the time being."
"Of course." Aeldig half rose and bobbed his own head. "Ride well, Master Elf."
Vëassë eyed him for a moment, then turned and left, silently, his back stiff. Aeldig frowned after him, and decided to mount a guard over the stables: he didn't think the elf would give up easily his desire to leave.
Vëassë hastened back to the guest room, irritably flinging wide the shutters, eager to let some light into the dim chamber, then dropped onto his bed, wondering how best he could escape from this terrible place...
Dawn found Silindë sitting on the roots of a mallorn, shoulders slumped with weariness and despondency. He had wandered all night, but not found Haldir. He'd stayed within the bounds of the city, though; perhaps Haldir had gone outside, and was somewhere in the Golden Wood... Lothlórien was vast. He couldn't hope to search even a fraction of it.
Reluctantly he pulled himself upright and started for the talan, hoping against hope that the advisor had returned by now. But the talan was empty.
Silindë was about to pull on his boots ready to search further afield when he heard a slight movement outside. He turned his head - then leapt up, heart immeasurably lighter, as Haldir stepped over the threshold.
"Mellon nin?"
Haldir managed a faint smile, and Silindë winced: his lover looked haggard and exhausted. The Lasgalen elf wrapped an arm around his waist, pulled him to the bed then pushed him gently down onto the covers, sitting beside him and easing off his boots.
"Thank you."
Silindë paused, then leaned down to kiss him gently.
"Will you rest, meleth nin?"
To his great relief Haldir nodded, then reached up to cup his cheek in one cold, shaking hand.
"Join me? I would welcome the comfort of your presence."
Silindë brushed silvery hair back from the pale cold face and smiled.
"Of course." He quickly shrugged out of his clothes, then undressed Haldir, slipping into the bed beside him and pulling the covers over them both, nestling close to the advisor. Almost before they knew it both had slipped into rest...
An hour past midnight, and Vëassë stood behind the door listening intently. His guard was still there, he could hear the human's breathing - slow and a little irregular. Was the man struggling to stay awake? If so, if the human was as tired - or as bored - as it seemed, his plan stood a good chance of succeeding...
He'd need to travel light; Aeldig had set a guard at the stable door, so borrowing a horse was out of the question. Similarly he'd not be able to retrieve his bow: the armoury was locked at night, and taking it out and not returning it without good reason during the day would have raised the alarm. But he had his long knife, and his hunting and flensing knives - though without a bow he was unlikely to be able to catch anything - they'd have to suffice for now. He'd have to rely on what he could forage to eat on the way, which wouldn't be much, but he was a lot hardier than he looked. He'd manage. He could eat when he reached Lothlórien.
Already dressed in travelling clothes, the colours muted brown and green to blend in with the background, and with a flask of water hitched to his belt, he pulled on his cloak and raised the hood to hide his hair, then swung himself silently up and out of the window, landing noiselessly on the rocky ledge outside. Keeping to the shadows he made his way down the steep hillside, then slipped over the outer wall. He paused, listening for sounds of alarm or pursuit, but there were none.
Smiling grimly to himself, and keeping to the lowest ground, he began to run, sure-footed and swift in the pale moonlight.
" ... but we cannot know if the rumours are true, sire. Not without sending a patrol." Gamling raised his eyes from the map to meet Éomer's sombre gaze.
"Then we will send a patrol. I'll not have orcs within bowshot of Rohan. The sooner the damned creatures are destroyed, the safer my land will be."
"Aye, my king." Gamling smiled grimly. "I'll order the Riders..."
Both men turned their heads as a young boy burst into the room, panting with exertion.
"Sire! Your pardon, but the Captain said you must see this..."
Éomer frowned and took the sheet of parchment the child clutched in his fingers, smoothing out the wrinkles and reading under his breath.
"Éomer King -
I offer my thanks for your hospitality, and would have done so in person. But circumstances beyond my control force me to depart Edoras.
I trust your reign will be long and fruitful.
With deepest respect,
Vëassë Nornóion..."
His head jerked up to stare at Gamling.
"What does this mean? What circumstances?"
Gamling shrugged helplessly.
"I know not, sire. I know only that the elf was troubled, and the Captain had me escort him to the woods..."
But Éomer was already half way across the chamber, parchment clenched in his hands and fury clear in his eyes.
Aeldig was in the stables, hastily assembling a search party, when Éomer arrived. The king curtly gestured him aside and thrust the parchment at him.
"What is the meaning of this?"
Aeldig read the note and groaned.
"Sire... He came to me, asking why... it had happened. I told him that 'twas my fault, in part. He said... he could not stay here longer, amongst humans..."
"And you didn't think to tell me?"
"'twas only last night, sire! I didn't think the elf would be so hasty!"
Éomer closed his eyes with a heavy sigh.
"And I am in part to blame. I should have shown more thought... Was he seen leaving? No, of course not -" Éomer answered himself "- if an elf wishes to go unseen, unseen he will be..." He shook his head. "Well, we must try. But not the company. You and I alone, Captain."
Aeldig hesitated, then nodded. They stood far more chance of finding the elf if he saw it were two half-way friendly faces on his trail...
Midday, and Vëassë had halted, refilled his flask at a small stream, and was now sitting in a hollow below a slab of rough grey rock, frowning at himself.
This... this was not an honourable way to behave.
Yes, he wanted to leave Edoras. And at the moment, he would not be troubled if he never saw another human again. But...
Silindë would be disappointed in him. Haldir would be contemptuous.
Elves did not shirk their duty. Silindë had said it often enough.
He rubbed a slim hand over his eyes.
He had to go back.
He didn't want to. There was nothing for him at Edoras. But anything else would be cowardly, and he was no coward.
He dragged himself upright and turned his face to the south, suddenly realising how exhausted he was. Running all night and well into the morning, after the rigours of the past few days - no rest, little food...
No longer bothering to keep to the lower ground, he began the long walk back to Edoras.
Aeldig gripped the king's arm, pointing. Ahead of them a small figure, its silver hair glittering in the sunshine, was walking towards them, head and shoulders bowed. Éomer sighed and slumped with relief.
"Vëassë. And seemingly unharmed." He grinned wryly at the Captain. "'tis good to know I shall not suffer Master Haldir's scorn and Master Silindë's wrath for proving incapable of looking after an elfling!"
Aeldig's eyes were wide.
"'od's teeth! How has he come so far? I doubt even a Rider on horseback could make such good time!"
Éomer swing himself out of the saddle and handed the reins to Aeldig, gazing up and shrugging.
"'tis an elf. No doubt he ran..."
Leaving the captain goggling after him, he strode calmly towards Vëassë. The elf stopped and eyed him warily, then moved again, his steps slow. Éomer held his arms wide, laying strong hands lightly on the slim shoulders as Vëassë reached him.
"Master Vëassë... I am glad you are unhurt. Allow me to escort you back to Edoras." He frowned: the elf looked exhausted. "I trust that is where you were headed?"
Vëassë nodded, then looked beyond the king to the horses. The two horses. His gaze returned to the king.
"How am I to travel?"
Éomer inclined his head, reluctant to tell the elf that they'd not brought a mount for him because they didn't want him making good his escape on horseback... He smiled as Vëassë swayed slightly, and kept his voice low and soothing.
"You are most weary, Master Elf. I would be honoured to have you ride with me, so that you may rest as we return."
Vëassë eyed him suspiciously, but Éomer's face showed only concern and candour, and he was really too tired to argue. He nodded resignedly, and Éomer slid an arm under his shoulders, ushering him to the waiting horses, swinging himself up into the saddle then helping Vëassë up before him. He pulled the weary elf back to lean against his chest, then wrapped one arm around the slim waist, holding Vëassë firmly, silver hair brushing his cheek as the elf rested his head on one broad shoulder.
"Sleep, if you wish. I will not let you fall."
The reply was murmured: Éomer only just heard it.
"My thanks, Éomer King..."
Feldag poked grumpily at the embers in the hearth. The shield maiden was not used to feeling ambiguous about her sire, a man she respected as much as Éomer King, and such unfamiliar feelings were making her resentful. Distilling the essence of his confession to her, Feldag was led to the inescapable conclusion that the elf had suffered the attack at her sire's behest. Of course, it wasn't quite as simple as that. The Captain hadn't ordered Raenulf and the others to such a despicable deed but the stupid, stupid boys had taken the Rider's vague words and fashioned them to fit their own malice.
Aeldig was shamed by the incident, Feldag knew; she didn't think it unlikely he'd offer to resign his post as a consequence of his… thoughtlessness. And as for the young Riders responsible for the outrage - they should be Riders no more! Feldag glowered, if her opinion was sought on the matter she would speak loudly for their expulsion, not only from the Rohirrim but from Rohan! The Riders were known for their honour, loyalty and bravery: there should be no place amongst them for such malevolent children as Raenulf and his cronies.
They walked the horses back to Edoras: Éomer had soon become aware of the elf's body relaxing against him, the silent breathing slowing, whispering softly against his neck, and he didn't want to wake Vëassë, amazed as he was at the elf's trust...
Although he found himself with a somewhat unexpected problem. Vëassë was beautiful, and soft and sweet and vulnerable in sleep, a thoroughly tempting armful. Éomer nuzzled the fragrant silky hair, then bit his lip and shifted uncomfortably, unobtrusively trying to ease his sudden throbbing erection.
It felt like years since Haldir had left...
He swallowed and tried to regain control of himself. Vëassë didn't find him threatening, that was obvious from the very fact that he felt safe enough to sleep. And after the way he'd been treated, it would not, Éomer thought, take very much to frighten him again. The elf reminded him a little of a highly-strung thoroughbred, and needed to be handled with just as much care and patience...
He grinned mockingly at himself. He didn't think Vëassë would appreciate being likened to a horse...
Nevertheless, it was a long way back to Edoras, and Vëassë was a warm, slender enticement in his arms.
He groaned silently and tried to concentrate on something - anything! - other than elves and their supple, sensuous bodies and the feeling of Haldir's lips on his and Silindë's face as he climaxed and...
He swallowed. It was going to be a long, long ride back...
Silindë leaned on one elbow, stroking silvery-pale hair back from Haldir's face, fingertips brushing the advisor's temple gently. Haldir's rest had not been tranquil, he knew: the 'lórien elf had roused several times during the day, shaking, his breathing harsh. Silindë had held him until he'd calmed and was resting again, but dared not rest himself. Finally, as evening softened the light through the trees, Haldir had sighed and turned to his lover, eyes melancholy.
"My thanks, meleth nin."
Silindë leaned down to kiss his brow.
"I wish that I might take some of the sorrow from you."
Haldir tugged his hand, gently pulling him down to lie alongside the advisor's own body, then held him close.
"You are here, Silindë. 'tis enough."
And the counsellor swallowed tears, knowing that Haldir would soon want to return to Edoras, to Éomer King, to the human he loved and who loved him...
Since first meeting her kin, the peredhil had spent nearly every waking moment of the ensuing few days with Malwen. Her grandmother was relatively young as elves went, being only several centuries old. Malwen's mate, however, was much older, having left it comparatively late to wed. Together they'd raised three sons before Ëarthúl, their youngest, had died and Sarnbreg in his grief had decided to leave for Valinor.
"I miss Sarnbreg." Malwen had confessed one soft evening to her grand-daughter. "But I will be with him again, soon." She turned jewel-dark eyes on the girl. "You could journey to Valinor with me." Wren blinked, not sure how to respond politely when her immediate reaction had been in the negative. Malwen smiled. "No, I can see you are still of this world." She brushed the peredhil's cheek with the backs of her fingers. "When - if - you are ready, know that I will be waiting for you in the Undying Lands. Myself, and all of your kin. You will not be alone, pen neth."
To not be alone… Wren had burst into tears then. She'd been alone since her mother had died, and as close as she'd grown to Feldag and the other shield-maidens over the past little while she was not of them, she was different and hence separate...
After several days with her grandmother, Wren couldn't help noticing the elder female's increasing restlessness. Malwen had sighed and apologised for her distraction, stating that she felt her time here was growing short. She was ready to leave, indeed she wanted to leave. Wren was saddened by the thought of losing the remnants of her kin so soon after finding them but in a peculiar sort of way she understood. And… there was the possibility she would see them again…
Wren realised with surprise it would be a wrench for her to leave Lothlórien and return to the human world, but she knew she would not be comfortable here without her grandmother. Besides, she had promised Feldag she would be at her side when she wed. The decision then, was clear in the peredhil's mind, when Haldir and Silindë returned to Edoras - as Wren surmised they soon would - she would go back with them.
© 2004 December 7th, Joules and Lutra
Lutra thinks we should have some sort of glossary - I hope this helps... I don't know Quenya or Sindarin (though I'm tempted to learn, they're a lot easier than Japanese!) so can't be absolutely certain my names are correct, but I've tried to follow the naming pattern of the canon elves.
Vëassë=Vigour
Ëarthúl=Sea-wind
Hithmal=Gold-mist
Malwen=Gold-woman
Nornó=Oak
Ringel=Cold-elf
Fëarond=Fire-dome
Sarnbreg=Slow-stone (a kind of joke - rolling stones gathering no moss and all that...)
And as for Silindë, the 'linde' element definitely means 'song' or 'melody', while si apparently means 'this'. (But I'm not entirely certain about that.)
Avása=Shadow
Hwesta=Breeze
Mellon nin=my friend
Melethron=lover
Meleth nin=my love
Pen neth=young one
Mae govannen=well met/greetings.
and the wonderful Elen síla lúmenn' omentielvo is the standard greeting "May a star shine upon the hour of our meeting" (or words to that effect), this version taken directly from my own copy of The Lord of The Rings
© 2004 WaveWrights
Back to the Lemons Index
Back to the Zone