Rohan shook off the chill of winter and the weather warmed again. Arinya, the pride and delight of Wren's life, was growing quickly into an intelligent, curious and playful creature and by summer's beginning had already begun weaning from her dam. The half-elf's gentle patience with the filly - and the near constant attention to her - had forged between them a bond that promised to deepen over time into something that went beyond a simple rider-mount relationship. The Rohirrim grooms and horse-trainers shook their heads over Wren's comparatively lenient treatment of her horse but even the most sceptical and hard-headed of them could see the filly was already beginning to respond confidently to the half-elf's authority. Wren, though, didn't view the filly's behaviour as subservient, she was only pleased beyond measure Arinya seemed to like her well enough to want to be at her side…
Despite Wren's close association - some might say obsession - with Arinya she still frequently found herself in the company of the elves. For the most part it was enjoyable, the peredhil's command of the language was such that she could converse freely and self-assuredly with only the occasional error. It was good to have conversation with both Haldir and Silindë again, it reminded Wren favourably of the journey to Lothlórien. It slowly dawned on the half-elf she was more at ease with the elves than she ever had been with any human save her mother and Feldag. She could acknowledge a kinship with the graceful beings now where a year ago she would not have felt herself worthy. Wren considered though that the kinship she felt may only have been the result of her familiarity and friendship with Silindë and Haldir. Rostfein, the Lasgalen elf, had made it abundantly plain in many small ways that he deemed her inferior though he never spoke it plainly or in such a way that a definite insult could be construed. The pale-haired elf was not… comfortable to speak with but as he hardly ever deigned to acknowledge the peredhil it wasn't so much of a problem.
With Tálgwelen, on the other hand, Wren had no such constraints. The dark elf was unfailingly courteous, indeed he gave every indication of taking pleasure from her company and the peredhil was absurdly pleased by his attention. Often he would seek her out, never seeming to mind the state of her clothes or hair if she'd been working in the stables and they would spend some time simply talking. Wren liked Tálgwelen - more than liked him if she were honest with herself - and she looked forward to their meetings.
Feldag, not surprisingly, was intrigued, and pleased with her friend's budding 'romance'. Wren was hesitant to label the relationship in any such way but the shield maiden had other ideas.
"He kissed you, didn't he?"
"… yes…"
"And you were not offended?"
"… no…"
Feldag's smile was triumphant.
"And so…?"
The half-elf coloured.
"It was just a kiss…"
And had left Wren in a state of confusion. It had happened unexpectedly: one moment she and Tálgwelen were laughing over Arinya's antics as the filly investigated a butterfly amongst the lush new grass, the next his lips were gentle and warm on hers…
Wren had been too surprised to think about protesting - though admittedly that action was furthest from her mind. She closed her eyes and gave in to the kiss, relaxing yet somehow growing deliciously tense and expectant.
And then Tálgwelen had pulled away.
"Forgive me, Cirince."
Wren blinked dazedly. What? Why?
Long fingers cupped her cheek for a moment then even that small contact was withdrawn.
"I'm sorry, I didn't intend for that to happen."
"I was not going to object."
Tálgwelen's hazel gaze was hooded and unrevealing.
"It was… ill-advised on my part." He glanced over at Arinya, now chasing another butterfly around her dam, then at the sun making its descent into evening. "We had better take the horses inside before the Captain wonders what has happened to his mare."
Wren nodded, forlorn without understanding why, then stood, brushing the grass from her skirts.
She and Tálgwelen made their way back to Edoras, walking in silence beside one another…
Wren didn't see the Lasgalen elf for three days and she couldn't help but wonder if he was avoiding her, something that would have taken a deliberate effort of will within the confines of Edoras. In the meantime, Rostfein's disdain for her became even less subtle, so much so that the peredhil found it easier for her peace of mind to avoid him. It was not a comfortable state of affairs and Wren was left feeling uncertain and confused. Then, just as she was beginning to resign herself to having lost… whatever it was that had been developing between Tálgwelen and herself, he appeared at her chamber late one evening.
The elf appeared almost furtive as she opened her door to him, casting a hasty glance along the hallway before stepping into the room.
"Cirince…"
Wren waited for him to speak further - all unknowing a wary and guarded expression settling over her features.
"I…" Tálgwelen floundered, clasping his hands tightly before him. His lovely hazel eyes were beseeching the peredhil for something she couldn't seem to fathom. Wren took a tentative step towards him.
"Am I at fault, Tálgwelen? What did I do wrong?"
He shook his head, smiling sadly.
"The fault is mine, lóth bein."
To Wren's gaze he appeared agitated, at battle with himself. She knew Tálgwelen wanted to reach out to her but couldn't, or wouldn't, though it grieved him not to. For her part Wren's mind was clear as to what she wanted and it was not to have this distance between them. The peredhil took the decision out of Tálgwelen's hands.
"I like you, Tálgwelen,"she whispered against his mouth, inwardly astounded at her own daring and yet absolutely certain that this was the right path.
"Cirince…" he breathed her name, fingertips reverently tracing the line of the peredhil's cheek.
"Would…would you stay?"
Tálgwelen gazed down into gleaming dark eyes and for a moment was sorely tempted. The elf could acknowledge his desire for the little peredhil but he couldn't in conscience act on it. Cirince was beautiful, she'd become dear to him in a very short time and while he could read the truth of her offer in her expressive face she was visibly trembling. Tálgwelen had reason to believe her reaction wasn't wholly indicative of desire. And… there were other valid reasons he should not succumb to temptation…
"I cannot." the regret was evident in his murmur. Wren bit her lip as she searched his face, then nodded silently and stepped back, eyes downcast.
"I will bid you good night, then, Tálgwelen." She peeped up at him, smiling tentatively, "I would like to continue with our… friendship, if that is also your wish?"
The Lasgalen elf inclined his head, hazel eyes reflecting a sudden joy.
"I would like that, also." He checked the impulse to lean down and kiss the peredhil. "Rest well, Cirince…"
Unseen at the end of the corridor, Silindë melted into the shadows as Tálgwelen unexpectedly emerged from Cirince's chamber. The counsellor observed the dark-haired elf's optimistic demeanour and could all too easily imagine what Rostfein would have to say…
Wren carefully closed the door after her visitor had left then sighed deeply and brought her forehead to rest against the dark wood. This was the first time she'd voluntarily offered herself to a lover and she'd been refused. At least he'd done so with kindness - Wren mused, though not happily - that was some comfort. But why had he refused her? She didn't think it was because he didn't find her fair… The peredhil brushed aside her speculations and prepared for bed.
Some time later it was clear to Wren that sleep was not going to come easily. Her thoughts kept returning to Tálgwelen, the gentleness of his touch, the rain-washed scent of his hair, the warmth of his lips… and the ambiguity she could discern now in his responses. She had been nothing but honest when she said she liked him but he had said nothing of his feelings for her. How was she to interpret that? That he had none? Wren frowned into the dark. She didn't think that was the truth of the matter but until Tálgwelen chose to reveal his reasons t'would be best for her to leave well enough alone. But she didn't want to. Tálgwelen was… She was drawn to him like none other previously: when he smiled her heart soared and when he touched her… For the first time in decades Wren found herself willingly anticipating intimacy with a lover and she was not inclined to simply let it be. She smiled to herself as she snuggled down into the pillow. It was probably the height of idiocy to contemplate any action but she was resolved to make her feelings for Tálgwelen clear in such a way he could not misinterpret them.
And then she would see where her future lay…
Silindë lay nestled against Haldir's back, one graceful hand over the advisor's hip, the other buried in silvery hair.
"Meleth nin..."
Haldir sighed and turned to face his lover, his smile melancholy. Silindë stroked his face.
"You are troubled, I know."
Haldir kissed him.
"Éomer does not want me to go."
"The queen does not want you to stay!"
"Éomer King is the reason I returned."
Silindë closed his eyes, pain gripping his heart. To be so loved... yet the king could give up one who loved him more than life in favour of a human woman! It was beyond Silindë's comprehension.
"Does he know that?"
Haldir slowly shook his head.
"I have no way to explain it to him - and he has never asked."
"You should make the attempt."
"To what end?" Haldir shrugged. "Our lives no longer run together. I knew there had to be a parting, one day."
"But not so soon!" Silindë was frustrated with his lover's resignation. Yes, Éomer was human and would one day die, but that need not happen for decades to come... he wondered why he was protesting. If Haldir were resigned to parting from Éomer, and soon, the way was clear for himself... He sighed silently. His innate sense of fairness wouldn't allow him to take advantage of Haldir's vulnerability. But there was no harm in asking... He pulled back a little, gazing into rich blue eyes.
"Will you come home with us? With me?"
Haldir eyed him warily.
"You would want me? Flawed as I am?"
Flawed? Haldir saw his love for the human as a flaw? Oh, that all elves could love as deeply! He cupped the pale face in his hands.
"You are precious to me. I see no flaws. And I would have you, flawed or not. Please, meleth, come home."
The advisor hesitated, but there was nothing but honesty and yearning in Silindë's face, and there could be no returning to the tranquillity of his first days with Éomer... he nodded, tentatively at first, then more firmly. To be loved, to be accepted - it would be enough.
And he loved Silindë, with a gentle, easy affection, quite different from his feelings for the human - but sustaining, comforting... It might be enough.
Silindë closed his eyes, an expression of quiet joy on his face, and pulled Haldir close...
"I don't want you to leave."
Haldir closed his eyes and lowered his head. This 'interview' was proving more difficult than he'd anticipated.
"I know, sire. But I cannot stay."
Éomer's eyes were hard.
"I could order you to stay."
The elf stared at the human disbelievingly.
"I am not your servant. I am not even one of your subjects."
"You are here on my sufferance."
A long stunned silence. Then Haldir rose to his feet and bowed, stiffly.
"I thank you for your time, Éomer King."
He turned to leave, pulled up short by the voice behind him.
"I didn't give you permission to leave."
Haldir turned to face the king, keeping his expression impassive.
"Nevertheless, I am leaving." And I thank you for making it easier for me to bear to do so. Turning once more, he loped to the door. Behind him Éomer growled angrily.
"Come back here! Haldir..."
The closing door cut off anything else he might have said.
Haldir sat on the edge of the bed, staring unseeingly at the floor. Silindë knelt behind him, kneading at broad tense shoulders.
"He spoke of ordering you to stay? I cannot believe it!"
Neither could Haldir.
"There must be some particular reason for his behaviour. Éomer has never acted thus before."
"Perhaps he fears change? I have heard that humans do, sometimes. Or perhaps he fears to lose what he deems his own."
The advisor chewed at his lip.
"I swore that I would never leave him..."
"And in a sense, you will not. The times you have shared are not lost."
"He believed I meant myself, my body. As did I at the time."
"Did you not say he had accepted that you would leave?"
"He said as much. It would appear he has changed his mind."
"I do not understand. But I have had little to do with humans. Their ways are strange to me."
"And I had thought I understood, but now..."
Silindë slid his arms around the advisor's tense body and kissed his ear lightly.
"Will you come to bed? We can do nothing further to solve this riddle tonight - and... I crave your touch." Haldir glanced over his shoulder, one eyebrow raised, and Silindë coloured slightly. "I have missed you."
"There has been no-one else?"
The counsellor chuckled.
"No one to compare to you, meleth... No, I have not felt inclined to admit another into my life." He gently nipped the tip of Haldir's ear, grinning as the advisor shivered. "And I will not try to command you."
Éomer slammed his fist into the wall, ignoring the pain as he cursed himself.
What had possessed him to take such a tone with his beloved elf? To threaten him? To try to demand complaisance of him? Of all the foolish things to have done...
He should go after Haldir, apologise, try to explain... explain what? That he felt as though he was losing all the precious things of his life? Losing himself in the constraints of ruling his realm?
That he was afraid?
He swallowed. He was afraid. Afraid of the uncertain future. Afraid on the demands on his time, his life.
Afraid of losing Haldir to Silindë.
He closed his eyes. Was this foul behaviour motivated by simple jealousy? How could he be so... so... contemptible?
He shook his head and took a deep breath. He'd find Haldir, talk with him...
"My love?"
Startled, he glanced over his shoulder, to see Lothíriel standing in the doorway. There was a strange, half shy, half delighted smile on her lips.
"My queen... Your pardon, I was distracted. I did not hear you."
She laughed lightly.
"I forgive you, Éomer. And I have news."
He stared at her, then smiled hesitantly.
"Good news, I trust?"
She pressed her hand to her belly and smiled coyly.
"Indeed, my love. You are to have an heir..."
Edoras prepared to celebrate, both the news of the forthcoming heir and the summer solstice. Éomer tried to do so, but could not help but feel... trapped. If Lothíriel had objected to Haldir's presence before, she would not countenance him now. And it would be so unfair to expect Haldir to endure this state of affairs. He would have to let his elf go.
The very thought made his gut clench, the pain akin to a knife thrust. Torn between duty and desire, he knew he had to speak to Haldir - but had not the first notion of what he should say.
It didn't help that wherever Haldir was, there too was Silindë, watchful and protective. Éomer remembered with a feeling of sick guilt that he had given his word to care for his elf, to not let him be unhappy. He'd broken his word. It was likely that Haldir would forgive him. It was obvious Silindë would not.
The elves kept much to themselves in the run up to the solstice. Rostfein and Tálgwelen took charge of the negotiations for the horses, and had most dealings with the humans - the king, Aeldig and Roëden, the Master of Horses: Silindë and Haldir seemed to be avoiding Éomer.
Aeldig reported that the pair had taken to riding out to the wood, and staying there for days at a time...
"It is beautiful here, Haldir." Silindë stood under the vast ancient oak and gazed up into rich green - a dramatic change from the yellowing grasses of the plain in the heat of summer. "It is much like Lasgalen."
Haldir wrapped his arms around the counsellor's shoulders from behind, holding him close.
"When last I was there it was still Mirkwood, and a fearsome, dangerous, ugly place."
"For long and long, meleth. But so much has changed since the War, in such a short time. It is growing beautiful again, now, health and vigour returning." He twisted in his lover's arms, brushing Haldir's lips with his own. "You will like it there, I promise you. We are moving out of the caves and back into the forest. We can build telain, live in the trees as you are used to." His rich brown eyes gleamed with enthusiasm and affection. "It will be wonderful, meleth."
Haldir kissed his ear, making him shiver.
"It sounds wonderful."
"It is..." Silindë pulled back a little, then rested his forehead against Haldir's, eyes slowly closing as he sighed contentedly. "We will be so happy. I will make sure of it."
The love in his voice, in the way he embraced Haldir... the advisor shivered and held his lover close, believing Silindë. Believing it was possible. He smiled.
"Let us go further in."
His arm around the counsellor's waist, Silindë's arm over his shoulder, Haldir led his lover deeper into the wood.
The sun rose, bright light filtering through the rich green leaves of the massive oak that was the heart of the wood, and Silindë roused, blinking his disorientation for a moment. Then he smiled, eyes closing blissfully as he raised his face to the caress of stray sunbeams, pulling Haldir more closely to him...
The pool below the oak's roots had lessened in the summer's heat, but was still a welcome sight. Silindë pulled off his boots and overtunic, wriggling his toes happily in the damp moss, then dropped to his knees and cupped the cold clear water in his hands, splashing it over his face. He twisted and smiled up at the watching Haldir, waterdrops sparkling on his fair skin and in his golden hair, and lifted a hand. Entranced by the shimmering droplets falling to ground from long, graceful fingers, Haldir clasped the hand in his, pulling Silindë up and into his arms. The counsellor chuckled very quietly.
"Meleth nin, are you not hot? You are wearing far too much for the heat of the day..."
Pulling back a little, Silindë eased Haldir's overtunic from his shoulders, following it with his tunic, sliding warm hands over the smooth muscular chest underneath, then knelt to pull off the advisor's boots. Standing again, he slid out of his own undertunic and unlaced his leggings before reaching for Haldir's, slipping his hand into the soft fabric at his lover's groin and grasping the engorging flesh there. Haldir groaned, head rolling back and his eyes closing as his hands gripped Silindë's shoulders. The counsellor kissed his throat, lips possessive and warm.
"Let me love you, Haldir. Let me be your star when you are lost and cold, let me be the stream from which you drink when you are thirsty, let me warm you in the night..."
Haldir was shivering, overwhelmed, hands shaking on the Lasgalen elf's shoulders. His head jerked up, deep blue eyes opening to stare into yearning brown, drinking in the truth of Silindë's feelings... He choked back a sob, biting his lip, ignoring the trickling wetness on his face.
"Yes. Yes, Silindë, meleth nin."
Silindë shuddered and pulled Haldir tightly to him, murmuring brokenly, incoherent words of gratitude and love...
A little later Haldir had pulled back, eyes shimmering with the last of his tears, and cupped Silindë's face in his hands.
"Make love to me."
The Lasgalen elf blinked, eyeing Haldir uncertainly for a moment - then, his slow smile echoing the sunrise, with infinite care he lowered Haldir to the moss and lay beside him, long hand tracing the contours of the lean body beside him, drinking in the sight. Haldir smiled at him, hooded eyes gleaming, and Silindë moaned, rolling onto his body, brushing against him, teasing, tempting, until Haldir gasped and spread his thighs widely, welcoming, crying out blissfully as Silindë eased into his body, sobbing as his lover thrust slowly and carefully, lips caressing his face, ears, throat...
His back arched as he came, Silindë gasping as he too climaxed, sparkling lights behind their eyes, silently pledging themselves to each other under the shade of the ancient oak in the dappled summer sunlight...
Silindë nuzzled Haldir's hair where they lay curled around each other. The 'lórien elf sighed contentedly and kissed his lover's jaw, chuckling as Silindë shuddered and pulled him closer.
"... meleth... Thank you."
Haldir raised an eyebrow.
"For what?"
Silindë kissed him.
"For... for... " He frowned, then gave a wry half-grin. "For being yourself, and for... accepting me."
Haldir pushed himself up to rest on one elbow, eyeing the elf beside him.
"Silindë, meleth, it is my joy to do so..." A shadow fell over his face, but briefly. "You know me. You know Éomer. You know what we were to each other. If you can accept that..."
Silindë kissed him to silence.
Later still, as evening stole over the wood in shades of gold and red, Silindë stirred and stretched, smiling at his lover.
"Are we to rest here?"
Haldir nodded, then smirked.
"Are you still sufficiently wood-elf that you can rest in a tree?"
Silindë's smile faltered.
"Without a talan?"
"Without a talan."
"I... I do not know, meleth..."
Haldir shook his head in mock-despair.
"Then I must teach you..."
It had, Silindë remembered, smiling fondly, been most instructive. And given him a closer insight into his lover's vigour, as Haldir had led him up to a crook of the oak where lightning had struck many years before, sparing the life of the tree but warping the wood into a positive nest of intertwining branches just made for elves to rest.
After making love, that is.
As the sun rose Silindë cradled Haldir close, kissing his neck softly, delighted when his lover turned to him, easing him onto his back and pressing into his warm and willing body, his thrusts perfectly attuned to the gentle sway of the oak in the cooling winds over the mountains. Silindë wrapped long legs around his lover's hips and closed his eyes, filled and fulfilled high above the ground in the wood that Haldir loved...
The summer solstice was a significant event in the calendar of the year especially for those who lived close to the land, as did the Rohirrim. The longest day of summer was marked with feasting, dancing and merry-making until long past nightfall and well into the next day.
Wren happily helped gather fuel for the huge bonfire at the base of Edoras that Éomer King and his Queen would together light at sundown. The peredhil was in a state of nervous anticipation, looking forward to the evening but for vastly more personal reasons than simply celebrating the height of summer. Since his visit to her chambers that night, Wren had been cultivating the Lasgalen elf. There was no other way to describe her actions: it had been a subtle, deliberate, calculated campaign to win Tálgwelen's affections. Wren discovered within herself an obstinacy that surprised her, but then again she had never wanted something as much as she wanted Tálgwelen. The elf was far from stupid but if he was aware of his status as quarry he gave no indication: Wren wondered if perhaps she was being too subtle. She smiled somewhat secretively to herself - soon though, she would drop all pretence of subtlety.
Éomer stood beside his queen, acknowledging his people's greetings and congratulations with an empty smile, his eyes flickering constantly over the assembled throng, hoping vainly for a glimpse of silver hair...
Lothíriel took his hand, slender fingers twining with his, dark eyes gazing into sky blue. Her voice was very low.
"Éomer, my king... He is not here. I am sorry for it, but I can understand."
He eyed her miserably.
"How can you understand? You don't know him."
"But I know how much I love you - and I can... appreciate that he might feel something like. He is hurt: he does not wish to see you. But he has Master Silindë for consolation."
Éomer drew a deep breath, forcing himself not to move, aware that in her own clumsy way she was trying to be kind, to comfort him. He closed his eyes.
"He came back from the dead for me."
The queen stared at him, uncomprehending - then shook her head.
"But I live for you, my king. I'm of your own kind. I carry your child..."
But you are not my elf... Éomer lowered his head.
"I know it, my queen."
"I am true to you alone, my king. I always will be."
Was she trying to make him feel guilty? If so, it was working...
A great cheer went up from the assembled Rohirrim as the dry tinder caught and the Solstice fire blazed into life. Wren laughed and clapped at the sight. The Elves did not use fire to mark any of their festivals but having spent so long amongst humans, Wren could still feel a thrill at the flame's symbolism. At her side, Feldag grinned and hugged the half-elf.
"You have been with us for more than a year, my friend."
"And I still cannot swing a sword with any degree of safety!" Wren laughed. "I fear you will have more luck instructing your daughters in the art than you ever could with me!"
The shield maiden's grin widened and she blushed. Since the news of the Queen's pregnancy her own hopes for children had deepened. Feldag would dearly love to present her husband with a son, or daughter, and the sooner the better as far as she was concerned. It would be fortuitous to have a child close in age to the King's firstborn.
Feldag smiled again at Wren before turning her attention to her husband. The half-elf watched the tenderness with which the couple regarded each other and was heartened. There was no reason she couldn't hope for similar in her life, was there? Speaking of which…
Of the Lasgalen elves only Tálgwelen was in evidence, standing politely with the Master of Horses and his aide. Rostfein was notable by his absence, for which Wren was heartily thankful. She didn't know what hold the pale elf had over Tálgwelen but her chances of success were greater without him there to glare down his elegant nose.
Feldag was occupied with Leyulf; she flashed a wicked smile at Wren as the half-elf excused herself.
"Enjoy the night, my friend."
Wren fought down a furious blush. She'd not confided anything of her plans to Feldag. The actions of their king notwithstanding, the Rohirrim had a tendency towards conservatism, but the shield maiden was intelligent and perceptive, it was just possible she had some inkling of Wren's thoughts.
"And fortune favour you." The half-elf grinned: Feldag had had no compunction in revealing her plans for Leyulf this solstice night.
"We should return."
Silindë twisted to kiss his lover, nodding reluctantly. Midnight of the summer solstice, and the sky was filled with stars, the horizon still faintly gilded with sunlight.
"It is their festival - it would be politic to share it with them."
"Despite that they celebrate it with fire." Haldir sighed, and Silindë nodded. The humans burned plants and wood to mark their festivals. It seemed a sacrilege to the elves...
Haldir held him close, breathing in the leafy fragrance of his hair, then kissed his eartip. Silindë shivered, then chuckled as Haldir's hand slid over his tumescent flesh.
"And we had best go now, or we will not go at all!"
Haldir grinned at him, eyes sparkling in the starlight. To Silindë's delight the 'lórien elf had blossomed over the last double-handful of days: to the Lasgalen elf he seemed aglow from within. Yes, of course there was a deep part of him that would always belong to the king, but otherwise... Haldir must have been like this in his youth, light and joyful and loving.
The dry wit, on the other hand, most likely came from a later part of his life...
They climbed down the tree and waded into the pool, bathing each other in cool, pure water, clinging together and nearly succumbing to temptation again. But Haldir eventually pushed away from Silindë's knowing hands, shaking his head with a breathless laugh.
"There will be plenty of time, later. But if we do not leave now, we'll miss the whole of the festival, and that would be... discourteous."
Silindë kissed him lingeringly, then turned to the bank.
"And that would never do... Come, meleth..."
Tálgwelen was now on his own, standing amongst the Rohirrim but seemingly a little apart from them. He greeted Wren with warmth, offering the peredhil a goblet filled to the brim with a light and fruity wine.
"I must admit, Cirince, I know little of the rituals Men have to mark the solstices - would you share your knowledge?"
"If you wish," Wren coloured slightly, not sure if she was comfortable to suddenly find herself the resident 'expert'. "Though it will hardly be a learnéd discussion, merely my observations."
"Please…" Tálgwelen smiled down at her, hazel eyes shining. For a moment Wren lost herself in his gaze: all else around the peredhil, all noise and movement, faded to nothing. Wren blinked and the moment passed, though it had left her feeling oddly light. She laughed, and gestured to the ground.
"Then please, make yourself comfortable, I'm not sure how succinct I can be…"
And that was how Silindë and Haldir found the pair sometime later, heads close together and deep in discussion.
The peredhil was quietly gratified to see peace resting in Haldir's dusk-blue eyes. She hadn't been insensible to the 'lórien elf's torment since Éomer King had wed but now, with Silindë here, Haldir seemed to have found some measure of balance. She'd missed their combined presences though; the two often seemed to vanish for days at a time.
The males excused themselves before long, leaving Wren and Tálgwelen alone again. The pair fell silent, gazing at one another, all interest in the ceremonies of Men forgotten. The silence stretched and Tálgwelen shifted on his haunches.
"My thanks, Cirince - "
Heart fluttering, Wren seized the moment. She leant close to the male, dark eyes imploring.
"Come with me, Tálgwelen, please."
He went to shake his head but Wren lifted a slender hand to cup his cheek, stilling the movement and forcing him to look at her.
"Please…"
She could feel Tálgwelen's tension vibrating against her hand and almost Wren was afraid he would refuse her again, but all at once the elf relaxed, hazel eyes half-closing as he leant into her touch.
"Lead…" he murmured, turning his head to kiss her palm, "… and I will follow."
Haldir smiled at the sight of the peredhil and Tálgwelen. No doubt she was unaware of it, but Cirince was almost glowing, light sparkling in her beautiful dark eyes, and he could understand the 'lórien elf's enchantment. He wished them well with all his heart.
At his side Silindë shook his head slightly, unsmiling, and Haldir frowned.
"What is wrong, meleth?"
Silindë tried to smile.
"'tis naught, Haldir."
But it obviously was something of moment: there was uncertainty, if not fear in the counsellor's eyes. Haldir halted and placed both hands on Silindë's shoulders.
"If we are to be together, I would have no secrets between us."
Silindë kissed him, a little distractedly.
"Yes, meleth, but this is not my secret to reveal."
Troubled, Haldir would have demanded an answer, but Silindë had turned and was making his way towards the group surrounding Éomer, and the advisor was forced to follow.
Éomer watched them approach, a fixed smile upon his lips, a sick look in his eyes. Haldir looked... different. Happier. Rested, relaxed. More like the elf the king had first met.
And that was Silindë's doing. More than anything else it proved to him he had to let his elf go. Give Haldir his freedom.
Something - in his eyes, in his stance, maybe even in his scent, Éomer had no real notion of how keen were elvish senses - gave away his decision to Silindë. For the first time since the 'lórien elves had arrived, the counsellor looked at ease. He smiled, sombrely, and bowed to the human.
"I thank you, Éomer King. Be sure I do not replace you in his heart."
Lothíriel was watching them warily: Éomer turned to her, eyes sad.
"I need to speak with Haldir, my queen." He shook his head at the sudden fear in her face. "No, my love. I am not leaving. But I need to say farewell."
He reached a hand to Haldir, who took it, wrapping elegant pale fingers around the king's broad calloused palm. The advisor glanced uncertainly at Silindë, who smiled encouragingly.
"Go with him. I will be waiting for you, meleth nin."
They walked a little way around the walls of Edoras, to the tombs, out of sight of the celebrations. Haldir looked around uneasily, but Éomer paused only to pluck a handful of simbelmynë before leading Haldir a little further out onto the plain. There he paused, gazing at the flowers in his hand.
"Their name means everlasting memory." His eyes lifted to regard the elf. "And while I cannot live forever, you will be ever in my mind, while I live." He placed the flowers in Haldir's hand, then kissed him gently. "I am sorry I have hurt you, meleth nin. It was never meant."
Haldir ran cool fingertips down the king's cheek.
"I know."
"Am I forgiven?"
Haldir smiled.
"There is nothing to forgive. The time we have had has been a delight. I can never regret my choice to return to you."
Éomer pulled the elf tightly to his body.
"I am so sorry... Had it just been myself, I would have loved only you, to the end."
"But we always knew that it could not be. Éomer, melethron, I regret nothing. And I would that you be happy."
Éomer pushed away, far enough to gaze dismally into the elf's eyes.
"How can I be happy? You won’t be here."
The advisor cupped his face in one hand, head tilted to the side appraisingly.
"You are a good king. Your people love you - your queen loves you. I will always love you, though I may not be with you. How can you be unhappy?"
The elf spoke truly, he knew. And he was being selfish. Silindë would make a far better lover, partner - mate - for Haldir than any human could. There need be no parting for them...
"For you, for the memory of your love, I will be content with my lot." Éomer swallowed hard, forcing back tears. "Will I see you again?"
There was deep affection in the rich blue eyes regarding him.
"When Lasgalen needs horses. No doubt I can arrange to visit with the horsemasters."
"You will always be welcome, belovéd, always."
Silindë eyed his lover anxiously, worrying over the pain in Haldir's eyes.
"All is well? He did not hurt you further?"
Haldir shook his head, then sighed and rested his forehead against Silindë's.
"All is well... It is not easy, meleth..."
The counsellor held him close, stroking his hair soothingly, tenderly. There was little he could say to ease the ending of a love that had brought Haldir back from the dead.
Wren stood gracefully, and before her courage failed shyly held out her hand to Tálgwelen. Hand in hand and in silence they drifted through the celebrating Rohirrim, wandering away from the throng surrounding the fire to a place of relative tranquillity beside a small tarn. Though Wren had planned for this to happen, now that the moment was imminent she couldn't help but be unsure. She swallowed nervously, forcing herself to look into his face while hoping he wouldn't notice her flaming cheeks.
"I… I have little experience."
Tálgwelen's smile was gentle.
"Forgive my presumption, lóth bien, but I had thought as much." He leant down and planted a light kiss over the peredhil's smooth forehead, then a deeper, more lingering kiss to her lips. Wren quivered, pressing close, thrilled by the strength she could discern beneath his light robes. Tálgwelen sighed happily and wrapped his arms around the girl, resting his cheek against her fragrant, dark hair.
"Silindë has oft praised your intelligence and desire for knowledge." His voice held loving amusement but no mockery. "I doubt you'll prove him wrong on this occasion."
The sun was dawning when Tálgwelen finally returned to the guest room he shared with Rostfein. The dark-haired elf quietly eased his way into the chamber but his companion was already awake.
"You are even more of a fool than I could have imagined."
Rostfein's frosty words shredded Tálgwelen's sense of languid well-being.
"This is none of your concern."
"Isn't it?" the pale elf growled. "Do not sully yourself further with the peredhil. If you have any feelings for the creature, put an end to it now. You are not for her."
"I say again this is none of your concern!" Tálgwelen snapped. "You are not my keeper, I do not answer to you!"
Rostfein's fine eyebrows rose.
"Centuries I have known you and only now do you grow teeth and backbone - over this." The sarcasm was intended to wound. "Oh indeed then it must be love."
Tálgwelen glared in sullen silence as the elf swept past him. Rostfein paused at the door of their chamber.
"You will tell the peredhil the truth of the matter. If you do not, I will."
He didn't quite slam the door behind him but his disapproval still echoed about the room.
Wren sang as she stroked the brush through Arinya's coat, the happiness in her voice a mirror to the happiness in her heart. She and Tálgwelen had parted shortly after dawn and only because the peredhil must needs see to Arinya's welfare. Wren paused in her labours to lean against the filly and wrap her arms around the slender neck. She grinned with secret joy: last night she had indeed proved Silindë not in error, her thirst for knowledge was well nigh all encompassing. And Tálgwelen…? Tálgwelen had been wonderful, showing her gentleness and delight where before there had only been pain and humiliation. It had been an instructive evening and one Wren was looking forward to repeating.
The half-elf became aware of another's presence in the stable. She peeked over Arinya's flank to face Rostfein's unblinking regard.
"Master Rostfein." Wren greeted him courteously but with instinctive caution.
"I think it only fair to inform you, Cirince, that you can have no claim on Tálgwelen."
The girl flushed but before she could speak the pale elf turned to leave, throwing a comment back over his shoulder that had Wren staring in disbelief.
"Tálgwelen is betrothed to my sister. He will be returning to her once our business in Rohan is concluded…"
Numb and suddenly chill, Wren pressed herself into a corner of Arinya's stall, out of sight of prying eyes. What had she done? Did Rostfein speak the truth? Sunk in confused misery the peredhil didn't note of the passage of time, or Arinya's enquiring snuffles into her hair.
"Cirince? Lóth bein?"
Wren looked up into concerned hazel eyes. Her own hardened as a flare of anger ripped through her.
"Am I nothing but a momentary diversion on your journey, Tálgwelen?"
The elf's look of surprise was followed hard by one of unease.
"Rostfein took the trouble to tell me of your betrothed." Wren continued in a low, angry tone. "And you did not." The peredhil bared her teeth. "How many weeks have we been acquainted? And you said nothing."
"I am so very sorry, Cirince, it was not my intention - "
"To what?" Wren interrupted with a choked sound. "To lie to me? To mislead me into thinking there could be a chance - " she broke off, burying her face in her hands. She shied away from Tálgwelen's light touch upon her hair.
"Leave me be, damn you."
"Cirince, please -"
"Leave me be!"
"Return to Eryn Lasgalen with me."
She stared at him then, disbelief vying with fury.
"You jest! To what end? As a little something extra when you feel the need of a change? What of your beloved?"
Tálgwelen's shoulders slumped and he looked away.
"I do not love her. I believed I did…" he lifted his earnest gaze to Wren, "and then I met you, meleth nin."
Wren stared at him, desperately striving for reason over the soaring hope in her heart.
"And what if later you decide you prefer someone else yet again? Would you go behind my back and only tell me of your decision once the deed was done?"
The dark-haired elf squared his shoulders.
"That will not happen."
"What? You will not prefer someone else or you will not neglect to tell me?" Wren's tone was sharp, as much to protect herself as wound him.
"I will not prefer another."
The peredhil shook her head.
"I cannot believe you."
"Cirince," if it were possible Tálgwelen sounded as wretched as Wren felt, "I have behaved badly but what I feel for you is true. I cannot bear the thought of leaving Edoras without you."
"I may not give you the option."
"Please, come with me, we will speak with my betrothed. Riannril is not unreasonable."
Wren spat out a fragile laugh.
"You are serious!" She held up her hand, forestalling his next words. "No, I will not hear what you have to say. Do not approach me. Do not try to have speech with me. Leave me alone." This last was whispered as Wren squeezed her eyes shut against brimming tears. She kept her eyes closed until, after a few heartbeats, her sharp hearing caught the slight sounds of the elf walking away. Only then did Wren give vent to her anguish, burying her face in her hands once more and sobbing.
Wren raised her hand to knock upon the door to Haldir's chambers, then paused. Did she really want to unburden herself to Silindë, or Haldir? She desperately felt the need of advice but… The peredhil took a breath, steadying herself. There was none other she felt she could speak with, even Feldag. She knocked on the door.
"Good morrow, Cirince." The counsellor's smile was serene. He and Haldir were seated at the plain table, in the middle of a meal by the looks of it. Silindë gestured to the food. "Would you join us?"
Wren nodded her thanks - she hadn't broken her fast yet and it had been many hours since her last meal. She found she was too tense to eat, though, pushing the scraps of flavoursome bread around her platter.
"What troubles you, Cirince?"
Wren's head jerked up at the counsellor's soft words. She swallowed her nerves and clasped her hands in her lap.
"I may have done a foolish thing…"
The elves listened in silence as Wren spilled forth the sorry tale. She was embarrassed and confused, and angry - though deep in her heart the peredhil was not sure she was justified. Tálgwelen had refused her, and she had kept pushing. That made the blame at least partially hers.
"Would you have continued your course of action had you know Tálgwelen was betrothed?" Silindë's concern was gentle beside Haldir's stony silence.
Wren considered the question, then shook her head.
"I would not have." A tiny, tremulous smile ghosted over her lips. "Though I would have still been tempted." Tempted? Oh yes. Even after what had happened Wren found her… attraction to Tálgwelen as strong as ever. She sighed, a small sound of misery. "He asked me to return to Lasgalen with him." Eyes fixed on the table Wren missed Silindë's frown.
"What was your response?"
"I told him to leave me alone."
"Would you look favourably upon his proposal?" the counsellor probed.
Wren nodded unhappily.
"I would. It sounds so foolish in hindsight but I want to be with him."
"Can you be sure what you're feeling is not merely the product of desire and nothing deeper?"
"No, I cannot." the girl blushed to admit. "I have no experience with feelings such as these. But I will never know if I do not have the chance, the time, to find out." She glanced at Silindë, dark eyes hopeful. "Tálgwelen said his betrothed might be reasonable?"
The Lasgalen elf tilted his head to one side. Reasonable? Not a word he would normally associate with Riannril. But then again…
"They have been betrothed for over five centuries."
Wren blinked.
"That's a long time, isn't it? Even for elves? Why did they not wed sooner?"
Silindë suspected it was due to Tálgwelen's heart not really being in the match, but not wanting to raise the girl's hopes too much he didn't make mention of his suspicions.
"Perhaps they could not reach agreement as to an opportune time."
Wren's next question was hesitant.
Is it difficult to end a betrothal?"
"It is not easy," Silindë replied, "though not impossible if both parties are willing."
Wren bit her lip.
"Then if Tálgwelen is serious there is a chance…?"
The counsellor regarded the dejected peredhil before him.
"We will be leaving Edoras in a little over twenty days. You have that long to make your decision, Cirince." He smiled. "But for now I suggest you rest. Perhaps things will be clearer when you awake."
Wren sniffled and surreptitiously wiped her eyes with her sleeve as she stood.
"I thank you for your time, Master Silindë," she inclined her head to the King's advisor, still sitting in silence at his lover's side, "Master Haldir. I am sorry to have bothered you."
Haldir swung to face Silindë as the door closed behind Cirince, waiting for the space of several heartbeats to make sure she was out of earshot before growling at his lover.
"Tell me you knew naught of this."
Silindë hesitated, then sighed.
"I... knew Tálgwelen is betrothed, of course. And I saw the friendship between them both. I did not know it had gone so far."
Haldir gripped his wrist, eyes hard.
"That is the truth."
Silindë gazed at him.
"The truth, meleth. I will not lie to you."
Haldir let go of his wrist and stood, pacing, head lowered.
"I must have words with Master Tálgwelen."
The Lasgalen elf shook his head.
"Haldir, meleth, let me speak to him first. Please?"
The advisor was obviously not happy, but nodded tightly.
"Do so. Then come to me. You understand I will not have Cirince hurt. I have no such compunction where those who hurt the peredhil are concerned."
"Enter."
The counsellor had tracked Tálgwelen down to his room in the guest wing. He was alone, Silindë having made sure Rostfein was otherwise engaged before going in search of the Lasgalen elf. He looked now at the gentle male gazing forlornly out of the window.
"Cirince has been to see me."
Tálgwelen essayed a tentative smile.
"How does she fare?"
"She feels betrayed." Silindë frowned. "Why did you not tell her about Riannril?"
"It seemed to be of little relevance at the start, and later, after I'd realised just how deeply I had come to care for Cirince, I knew not how to broach the subject."
"Haldir is ready to challenge you over this."
"T'would be no less than I deserve." Tálgwelen sighed. "Had I told Cirince sooner it might have saved her some hurt. Rostfein can be blunt of speech, and he has no liking for her, I can only imagine how he might have phrased the matter."
Silindë shook his head.
"Why let Rostfein break the news?"
"It was not a matter of 'letting him'," Tálgwelen's lips thinned. "He warned me this morn that he would speak to Cirince about Riannril if I did not. I determined there and then to tell her the truth but while I took the time to wash and change my clothes Rostfein was already on his way to see her." The elf's shoulders slumped. "By the time I arrived the damage had been done."
Silindë observed him in silence.
"Cirince said you asked her to return with you." he said finally.
"I did."
"Why?"
"Why?" Tálgwelen echoed with a bitter laugh. "Because I love her, the thought of life without her pains me and now… and now she will not even look at me."
"What of Riannril?"
The dark elf didn't speak for several moments.
"Her interest was piqued from our first meeting." He began softly. "She pursued me ruthlessly and I was flattered. Riannril is beautiful and intelligent, who would not be flattered by her attentions? Our betrothal was her idea and she would hear nothing against it, not even Rostfein could sway her decision. And I? I was content to be swept along by the river of her enthusiasm. I believed I was in love…"
Silindë sighed. The lack of ardour on Tálgwelen's part had been noted for some time.
"Do you honestly believe Riannril would step aside?"
"If she could overcome her pride…" Tálgwelen looked up sharply, hope kindling in his eyes. "Has Cirince said aught?"
The counsellor's smile was reserved.
"She has indicated she might be willing to go with you, but - " Silindë was firm, "Cirince fears the same fate as Riannril will face. You must prove your sincerity before she would feel secure."
Hazel eyes gleamed with anticipation.
"I will court her properly this time!"
Silindë chuckled.
"Cirince is already won, my friend, but you will need to regain her trust." He became serious. "And still there is the question of Riannril. She may not acquiesce - you must bear that in mind, and Cirince must be made aware of the possibility."
Tálgwelen sat straighter in his seat, determination in every line of his lean body.
"Be assured I will see to that… As soon as she will see me."
The counsellor quirked an eyebrow - if he had read Cirince as well as he'd supposed, Tálgwelen would not have long to wait before the peredhil would grant him audience…
Haldir was still pacing when Silindë returned. He swivelled to the Lasgalen elf, head lowered, scowling.
"So?"
Silindë seated himself.
"It is... complicated. But Tálgwelen's feelings for Cirince are true."
"What of his betrothed?"
"He wishes to end the betrothal."
Haldir halted, planting his fists on his hips.
"He hurt her."
"That was not altogether his fault. Rostfein reached the peredhil first - and you have seen how little he likes her."
"Indeed." Haldir paused for a moment, gazing at the floor, then pulled himself fully upright and strode towards the door. Silindë rose to his feet, alarmed.
"Haldir? What are you going to do?"
Haldir glanced over his shoulder, eyes a fierce icy blue.
"I am going to have words with Master Rostfein."
Rostfein was in his room. Haldir knocked, then entered without waiting for an answer. The fair elf looked up from the letter he was writing and raised an eyebrow.
"It would appear living with humans has had a deleterious effect on your manners, Master Haldir. A true elf would wait to be invited before entering a private dwelling."
The advisor folded his arms.
"I did not come here to discuss manners."
Rostfein leaned back in his chair.
"Might I ask why you did come here?"
"Cirince."
Rostfein snorted inelegantly.
"The half-human? She is nothing. A mortification."
"She is half-elven. And she is a credit to our people."
"She is no kin of mine."
"She is of mine."
Rostfein eyed Haldir with something akin to loathing.
"That explains a lot."
Haldir's eyes narrowed, but he held his anger in check.
"Why did you approach the peredhil before Tálgwelen had time to do so?"
Rostfein raised an eyebrow and arrogantly lounged back in his chair.
"It was my right to do so. 'twas my sister was being wronged."
"And this is Lasgalen courtesy? It was Tálgwelen's right to amend matters, a right that you denied him."
"Tálgwelen is a fool and a coward."
Privately, at that moment Haldir agreed with Rostfein, but admitting it would get them nowhere. He placed his hands flat on the table and leaned forwards.
"You do not like him."
The Lasgalen elf frowned petulantly.
"I have accepted him, because he is Riannril's choice. But I would not spend time with him willingly."
"And you wish to pressure him to wed her..." He paused, attention caught by the parchment on the table. The letter was addressed to Riannril: Haldir saw Cirince's name in the first paragraph. His head came up slowly. "You were writing to her? To tell her what has happened? To warn her?"
Rostfein smirked.
"It should serve to force them to wed - on the strength of Tálgwelen's guilt if naught else."
Haldir shoved the table aside and gripped the front of Rostfein's tunic, yanking the taller elf to his feet and off balance.
"You," he hissed through gritted teeth, "are a disgrace to the name of the Eldar. I despise you."
Rostfein blanched, his supercilious expression slipping. Then he smirked nastily.
"This, from one who allows himself to be used by a human?"
Haldir eyed him coldly for a moment, then calmly, deliberately, and very powerfully punched him in the face.
Rostfein's tunic ripped with the force of the blow and he was sent flying backwards, to slam painfully into the bedpost. As he sprawled on the floor, dazed, blood streaming from his nose and mouth, Haldir towered over him, arms folded.
"You will apologise to Cirince, and to Tálgwelen. I will not countenance any further interference on your part. And do not bother to write to Riannril: no-one will carry your message." He leaned over the cowering elf, face tight with contempt. "Do not again let me hear you speak ill of the King - of anyone - here."
Rostfein nodded, frightened, and with one last glare Haldir turned on his heel and stalked out of the room.
Pausing outside to wince and shake his hand as he regarded the broken skin over his knuckles. That had hurt...
But it had been worth it. Smiling to himself, he made his way back to his chambers.
It was much later in the day when Wren found herself again facing Rostfein in the quiet of the stables. The obvious damage to his refined features was remarkable enough but the real surprise for Wren was the apology he offered. It was curt, and grudging, but it was an apology and it went some little way to easing the pain.
Wren kept firm to her resolution to have nothing to do with Tálgwelen… right up until the moment she laid eyes on him. For five days she'd managed to avoid the elf, keeping to herself - except for the morning training with the shield maidens - or skulking about the stables. She'd been twitchy all the while, half-expecting either Tálgwelen to come looking for her, or for their paths to cross accidentally. It had been a lonely time for Wren. Not wanting to face Feldag's concern or questions she'd also kept her distance from the shield maiden. The half-elf felt as if she were some wounded creature that needed to hide away until the pain ceased. If it hadn't been for Arinya Wren believed she might have stayed in her room and never ventured out. But despite her vigilance it was inevitable she would come face to face with Tálgwelen before long.
They met by chance in a corridor as Wren was returning from her morning practice. Sweaty, dishevelled and all at once wary the peredhil gazed up at the male without speaking. In the silence Wren absently noted of the state of her emotions. She was no longer angry with him, she realised, but the hurt remained fresh. Though admittedly, after the energy she'd expended trying to avoid Tálgwelen it was something of a relief to finally face him.
"Cirince…" Tálgwelen appeared to grope for the words. "I am so sorry to have caused you pain. I would not dare to ask your forgiveness but will you have speech with me? Hear me out?"
Wren wavered. Her sense of self-preservation was telling her to flee, never see him again, but then she had spent half of her life running from anything that might cause her harm. Perhaps it was time for once to take a chance. The peredhil cleared her throat.
"Let me bathe first." Wren's voice sounded small even to her hearing. "And then we will talk…"
A fresh breeze kept the heat shimmering over the grass-lands from becoming stifling. Wren sat with Tálgwelen - close but not touching - beside one of the small rivulets that crossed the plains of Rohan while Arinya gambolled within sight of the pair. The Lasgalen elf spoke plainly, from his heart, about his feelings for Wren and his betrothed, and how he had come to be in his present situation. The peredhil fell silent at the conclusion of his speech, twisting a blade of dry grass between her fingers while she considered his words. At last she raised serious eyes to his.
"Grant me time, Tálgwelen, I need to think on this."
"As long as you need, lóth bein."
Wren called the filly to her and leaving the male alone on the plain, they wound their way back into Edoras.
In the end though Wren reached her decision quickly. Less than a full day later she sought Tálgwelen out in his room, standing just within the doorway and making no move towards him.
"I will journey to Lasgalen with you, but there are conditions."
The dark-haired elf nodded, holding himself still though there was no disguising the hope, the joy, in his eyes.
"There will be no… intimacy between us until the matter of your betrothal is settled, and if Riannril will not step aside then I will leave Lasgalen..." her voice shook, "and you. Agreed?"
Tálgwelen nodded again, more slowly.
"I agree."
Wren almost found the heart to smile.
"Good morrow, Tálgwelen…"
"You're leaving?" Feldag's pale eyes were suspiciously bright. "With Tálgwelen?" Wren nodded, her own eyes misty with emotion. "Oh…" the shield maiden pulled her friend into a tight hug. "I am going to miss you, Wren. Will you visit?"
"I will." Wren sniffed back tears. "As often as I can."
"That elf better take good care of you," her sire's daughter, Feldag hid her excess of sentiment behind gruffness, "or he'll have me to answer to!"
Wren laughed and pressed a kiss to the human's cheek.
"I hope there will be no need for that."
She hadn't mentioned to Feldag the potential difficulties surrounding her relationship with Tálgwelen, or the possibility of her returning to Edoras should Riannril decide to not break the betrothal. Wren saw no need to add the complications of Feldag's righteous indignation to her troubles.
"How soon 'til you depart?"
"Ten days."
"Very well then," Feldag stepped back, all brisk efficiency once again. "I have you for that long. You will leave Edoras a credit to my weapons tutoring…"
Silindë's expression was tranquil, but he was unable to quell the tiniest shake in his voice. Only an elf would have noticed.
"Will you spend a last night with him?"
Hearing his dismay, Haldir pulled the counsellor tightly to him.
"No. It would be unwise, and anger the queen. I think it best if we part friends, not lovers."
"Éomer will not like it."
The 'lórien elf sighed and brushed a kiss over his lover's ear.
"Éomer has made his choice. As have I."
Silindë pulled back a little, then kissed Haldir, lips warm and tender, eyes closed in relief.
"Thank you, meleth."
Wren looked up into the Captain's bearded face and smiled.
"My thanks, my Lord, for your good will. My life would have been very different had you not seen fit to bring me back to Edoras."
"'t was naught but my duty, lass, but glad I am to have seen you fall on your feet so well." He glanced at the bay filly lipping contentedly at the half-elf's hair. "It won't be long before Arinya is strong enough to bear your weight." He eyed Wren. "Though given you weigh as little as goose down I dare say she could bear it now."
Wren laughed.
"No, I will follow the wisdom of the Rohirrim as regards the right time for a horse to first carry a rider." She stood on tip-toe, reaching up to kiss Aeldig's weathered cheek. "Thank you again, my Lord."
The elder male half-smiled down at her.
"Good fortune ride with you, lass."
There were tears when Feldag and Wren said their farewells, and promises from both to write to the other. Wren owed the shield maiden a debt of friendship, one she would never forget. They each had their own, separate lives to live now but Wren was determined to not lose contact with Feldag no matter what transpired in the future.
The peredhil had one more farewell to make before she left. Head bowed, she knelt gracefully before Éomer King, and his watchful Queen.
"Many thanks, sire, for your generosity. If there is any way I can repay your kindness…"
Éomer smiled.
"There is no need, Mistress Cirince, you have more than earned your keep." He gestured to the small herd of horses waiting to make the journey to Lasgalen. "But I would be glad to know there is someone familiar with our animals to watch over them in their new home."
Wren near bounced to her feet.
"I assure you, sire, I will tend them as if they were my own."
The King of Rohan chuckled and wished her a good journey before turning his attention to other departing guests.
Éomer had been both melancholy and regretful in his farewell to Haldir, and for one awful moment Silindë was afraid his lover might change his mind and stay, after all. But the 'lórien elf bowed courteously, hand to his heart then swept downwards in the proper elvish fashion, his voice pitched for Éomer's ears alone. The king laid both hands on the elf's shoulders, then kissed him lightly, immediately letting go.
"I will miss you."
Haldir inclined his head, eyes bright.
"And I you. My thanks, Éomer meleth, for all that you have done."
"I wish..." the human shook his head. "I wish for you to be happy." he glanced at Silindë, smiling wanly. "I have every hope my wish will be granted..."
It was a tense twenty days. Silindë tried to keep the peace between Haldir and Rostfein, who quite obviously loathed each other, while Cirince was, understandably, a little uncertain and diffident with Tálgwelen, who equally obviously simply wanted to take her in his arms and hold her. The two Riders who accompanied them as guards and horse-minders rolled their eyes at each other and muttered about the strangenesses of elves...
But they finally reached the southern edge of Eryn Lasgalen, where they were met by a company of wood-elves. The Riders declined the invitation to stay and set off back to Edoras immediately, while Silindë handed the care of the new horses over to those who knew more about it than himself...
Word of the travellers' return had spread before them. Rostfein noted with relief his sister was not amongst the small crowd waiting to welcome them home. This was just as well, he wanted private speech with her before Tálgwelen sought her out. However, Riannril was waiting for him in the dwelling they shared underground.
"Mae govannen, brother, how fared your journey?"
Rostfein scowled, all but throwing his leather bag across the room. Riannril's eyebrows rose.
"It went well, I see…"
"Oh the mission was a resounding success," Rostfein flung himself into a chair, accepting with a bare nod the glass of wine his sister offered. "We've returned with horses aplenty for the king. It was all the other… nonsense that tried my patience."
"Such as?" Riannril settled herself across the table from the fuming male.
"Well for a start Tálgwelen has got involved with a… a half-blood," he spat out the word. "And now he wants to break off the betrothal!"
"He what?!" Riannril hissed, beautiful violet eyes narrowing.
"Oh, it gets better, sister." Rostfein smirked humourlessly. "Tálgwelen has brought the creature back with him. Even now she is with him in his chambers."
"We shall see about that!" Riannril stood, a tower of pale fury ready to do battle with the interloper. Her brother's next aggrieved words brought her up short.
"And Haldir had the gall to attack me when I dared to seek justice on your account!"
The female stilled.
"Haldir? Of Lothlórien?"
"The same," Rostfein growled into his glass. "Arrogant, ill-mannered boor. He forced me to apologize to the girl, and your idiot betrothed! And now I must endure his presence daily as he's come to Lasgalen!" There was silence from his sister - Rostfein raised his eyes to find a thoughtful expression on her lovely features.
"What a mate he would make…" she murmured.
The male's jaw fell open, alarmed by the admiration he discerned in her voice.
"Sister, you are not serious? What of Tálgwelen?"
She snapped back to herself, lips thinned.
"I will deal with him shortly. But you had best present yourself to Thranduil. His majesty will no doubt be waiting for your report."
Rostfein sighed and got to his feet. He pressed his lips to his sister's pale forehead.
"I will return before long. Do not do anything…rash, Riannril."
She smiled, and it was an expression not calculated to soothe his doubts.
"You know me better than that, Rostfein. You know I never act without due thought…"
"We must greet Thranduil before aught else." Silindë smiled. "He will want to welcome the new additions to Lasgalen."
Haldir nodded, a little distractedly. They had gone straight to Silindë's quarters, to refresh themselves before seeing the king, and while the chambers were spacious and elegantly arranged, he felt uneasy being underground. The sooner they could have a talan created the better - and that was going to take a little while. Choosing the right tree was a task in itself...
"'twould be best done right away." He brushed his fingers down Silindë's cheek. "Then may we have a little time to ourselves?"
Silindë shivered, pulling Haldir to him. They had refrained from anything more intimate than the most fleeting caress on their way to Eryn Lasgalen, and both were feeling the strain of such self-restraint.
"Of course, meleth. I would be a poor host were I not to welcome you personally to your new home..."
The interview with Thranduil had been brief but pleasant. The woodland king lacked the grace and elegance of the Lord and Lady of Lothlórien - hardly surprising given the nature of his realm over the last few centuries - but was hospitable in his own way. A warrior king, thought Haldir, and beautiful with it; it was easy to see from whom Legolas had inherited his looks.
Thranduil was also forthright. Before he had time to think Haldir found himself appointed to the Lasgalen wardens, a post not dissimilar to his duties in 'lórien. He accepted with a warm sense of coming home...
Silindë kissing the back of his neck distracted him from his musings, and he turned to face the counsellor, pulling him into a tight embrace and feeling himself rousing again against the growing hardness at his lover's groin. Silindë chuckled.
"Indeed, I have missed you also, meleth..."
Easing into a channel made slick by his earlier climax, Haldir gently nipped his lover's eartip: Silindë shuddered and slid both hands down to cup tight buttocks, pulling Haldir more closely to him as they moved together...
Wren ran her fingers over the beaded curtain, causing the tiny bells spaced between the carved gems to jingle and chime. The Eryn Lasgalen elves still resided for the most part in the caves they'd retreated to when the Shadow fell over the forest, though they were slowly making their ways out again into the trees. The trees… Wren sighed happily. The forest of Eryn Lasgalen was beautiful. It didn't have the vast dignity that characterised Lothlórien but it was no less exceptional for all that. The peredhil could imagine herself living happily here.
… Wren gnawed at her lip: if all went to plan.
Soon after they'd presented themselves to King Thranduil, Tálgwelen had escorted her to his dwelling, allowing himself a chaste kiss over her lips, and what was supposed to be a reassuring smile, before making his way to see Riannril. Wren waited now for his return, and the verdict that would set the course of her future.
"May I enter?" the voice, though light and musical, was formal to the point of frostiness. Not waiting for Wren's reply the female elf parted the curtain and stepped through into the chamber.
The resemblance to Rostfein was remarkable, including the way she looked down her elegant nose at the peredhil. Completely at a loss Wren could only stare at her visitor.
"So you are the butterfly for whom I would be set aside?" Riannril ran her gaze appraisingly over Wren's slender form. She sniffed and turned to leave. "Pretty enough, I suppose."
"Mistress Riannril," Wren found her wits. "Tálgwelen has spoken with you?"
The elf nodded curtly in reply.
"Then I would know your answer, if you please."
Riannril waved a languid hand.
"Oh you may have him, if that is your will. Valar know he's been of little enough use to me…"
Not knowing whether to respond with indignation or joy to the dismissive statement, Wren continued to stare after the retreating figure. Within moments though, Tálgwelen returned.
"She has been here?" He gathered the still bemused Wren into his arms, gazing with concern into the peredhil's dark eyes. "What did she say? Was she discourteous?"
Wren's grin was sudden and joyful. "She said I may have you." She laughed, wrapping her arms about her lover and snuggling close, something she had desired to do for days.
"And will you, Cirince? Will you have me?" There was still an echo of concern in Tálgwelen's gaze, a concern Wren immediately set about erasing by measure of a long and deeply passionate kiss.
"Oh yes, meleth nin, I will have you…"
"Master Silindë?"
The counsellor frowned at the voice, regretfully pulling away from Haldir where they lay drowsing together.
"Forgive me, meleth. It's Riannril. I had best see what she wants, or we'll get no peace."
Haldir kissed him gently.
"Pray do not tarry, meleth." He smirked, eyes dark with yearning. "I shall be lonely while you are gone."
Groaning around the surge of arousal that arrowed to his loins, Silindë slid into a loose robe and pushed aside the heavy hanging that served as a door between the sleeping chamber and the main part of the dwelling. Riannril bowed her head.
"Forgive my intrusion, Master Silindë, but my brother tells me that Haldir of Lothlórien has returned with you. May I offer my greetings?"
Silindë eyed her with some distaste. Beautiful she might be, but Riannril wasn't known for her tact or discretion.
"Haldir is... resting, presently."
Riannril offered her most winning smile.
"I only wish to say hello, Master Silindë."
He quirked an eyebrow. 'Just say hello'? And orcs would turn farmers!
On the other hand, it might be as well to let her know in no uncertain terms how things stood.
"One moment, Mistress Riannril..."
Silindë went back into the sleeping chamber, a sour expression on his face. He kept his voice low.
"I can only assume that she now knows about Cirince. She wishes to meet you. Knowing Riannril, she also wishes to bed and wed you..."
Haldir chuckled quietly at the unexpected crudity: there were aspects to his lover's character he was still discovering.
"Then we had best disillusion her as quickly as we may, don't you think?" He pulled the cover down to his waist and rested on his elbow, his cheek on his hand, lamplight gleaming on his pale, muscular body. "Send her in."
Riannril's eyes were huge, with lust and admiration Silindë thought, as she gazed at Haldir. The 'lórien elf smirked, eyes hooded.
"Greetings, Mistress Riannril. Pray excuse my not rising."
She swallowed, then tried a somewhat nervous smile.
"Of course, Master Haldir... I wished only to welcome you to Eryn Lasgalen. Should you wish... anything... be sure I am ready to serve."
Silindë loped back to the bed, settling himself behind Haldir, one hand stroking silvery pale hair. The 'lórien elf's eyes closed briefly, then he inclined his head.
"I thank you, Mistress. But as you see, I am well served here." He brought Silindë's hand to his lips, kissing the long fingers. Riannril paled, her eyes flicking to the counsellor.
"You... you are..."
"Partners, yes." Silindë smiled mock-innocently. "Did you not know?"
"I... I thought..."
Both elves watched her floundering for a moment, then Haldir sighed.
"I regret disappointing you, Mistress Riannril. But as you can see, I am content as I am."
Her shoulders slumped.
"I see... Forgive my interruption."
She turned, and Silindë rose to see her out. At the entrance to the dwelling he laid a hand on her shoulder.
"We wish you good fortune and happiness, Riannril."
She smiled wanly.
"I thank you, Master Silindë. I wish you the same."
"So she has given Tálgwelen his freedom? The way is clear for him and Cirince?"
Silindë nodded; it hadn't taken long for the news to reach him. Riannril had broken with Tálgwelen before coming to see them, and the sheer speed with which she acted - and her lack of concern about Tálgwelen and Cirince - spoke volumes about her feelings towards her erstwhile betrothed. But then, Silindë had suspected she had lost interest in Tálgwelen quite some time ago. She had just been too proud to break off the betrothal without a good reason - and she'd much rather be seen as the wronged party.
"Riannril won't suffer. There are plenty of elves ready and willing to take Tálgwelen's place."
Haldir stroked his lover's hair, and Silindë nestled a little closer, his head on the warden's shoulder.
"So all is well. I am pleased."
Silindë kissed his chest, then shifted to bite lightly at a nipple.
"There is only one last little matter."
Haldir tensed, his voice wary.
"Which is?"
"Vëassë."
"What of him?"
"It's quite likely he will want to share our talan."
Haldir was silent for a moment, then nodded grudgingly. From what he'd seen and heard of the young elf since their arrival, Vëassë had matured since his visit to Edoras.
"Very well. As long as he behaves himself."
"Oh he will, I'll make sure of it." Silindë eyed his lover narrowly. "It is likely he might also want to share you."
Haldir blinked, then frowned.
"And how would you feel about that?"
Silindë laughed.
"'twould not be the first time! And I am not selfish. If it is not distasteful to you, I will not refuse it. On occasion. And as long as you do not fall in love with him."
The 'lórien elf raised an eyebrow.
"That will not happen."
Silindë nipped the tip of his ear, making him shiver, and slid a hand down to his lover's groin, stroking gently.
"Glad I am to hear it!" He sighed and reluctantly pulled a little away. "Much as I would like to stay here, meleth, it might be a good idea to rise. There is a venerable oak tree not far away that I would like you to see. I think it would be ideal for our purposes."
Haldir nodded, watching Silindë dress before pulling himself upright and following suit...
Vëassë grinned and sprawled back on the thick fur; beside him Lirulin, his current lover, ran her fingers through his hair and smiled shyly at Haldir. Vëassë raised his glass to his brother.
"Blessings on you both, muindor!"
Silindë wrapped an arm around his lover's waist and took a sip from his own glass, then glanced at Cirince, happily ensconced in the beaming Tálgwelen's lap. Outside the talan, the night was warm, the stars very bright where they peeked through the thick leaves: inside the six of them had shared a meal and good companionship, something that had become a ritual every twenty days or so since the talan had been completed half a year ago. There were more of the dwellings now, as the Lasgalen elves moved back into their forest home, but Haldir and Silindë's was still the highest, the closest to the stars.
Silindë closed his eyes for a moment, heart filled with a deep and solemn joy. Yes, they were blessed, all of them. And when the time came for them to leave middle earth, they would go together.
But for now, life was bright, gilded with happiness and love. More than he'd ever thought possible.
That Haldir felt the same was clear in his shining twilight eyes.
© 2004 December 22nd Joules and Lutra
© 2004 WaveWrights
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