Galadriel led Arthoniel out to where the three horses stood waiting. Two other stockier horses pulled a wagon of the company's supplies, whilst three Galadhrim hurried to lower the tent now behind them. Lord Celeborn sat aside a magnificent black stallion that looked at Arthoniel with clever black eyes. Haldir, appearing from Lord Celeborn's side, moved forwards to aid the Lady up onto her own white mare. It was slightly smaller in stature but nevertheless a graceful creature that stood calmly by the stallion. Once settled, Galadriel looked up into Celeborn's waiting gaze and thoughts were spoken between them. Arthoniel looked away from the private moment and instead to Haldir who was positioning a fine grey stallion in front of her.
The stallion blew air in her direction and tossed his head proudly.
Like master, like beast.
'You will ride Nenren. He is proud, but he will not let you fall.' Haldir positioned the reins and then moved around Nenren's head to take hold of Arthoniel's waist, as though to lift her up.
'Ai!' Arthoniel hissed, batting away the large hands that had for but a second encircled her so gently.
Haldir removed his hands, but looked at her expectantly.
Green eyes narrowed. 'I can mount by myself, Marchwarden.'
'Go on then.' Haldir said passively.
Arthoniel's eyes narrowed further before she put one foot in the leather stirrup and swung up into position on the soft riding blankets. On the outside, her movement looked flawless, on the inside, Arthoniel's eyes widened a fraction and she gave a silent scream as several cuts opened up. Her shoulder felt like she had been branded by an iron.
She looked down at Haldir. He was watching her face a bit too closely. To break the moment, she reached down and petted Nenren's magnificent neck. It did not help her pain and she hid her face behind his mane.
I am used to pain. I will manage.
She lifted her head and looked down to her right. 'Will you be walking ahead Marchwarden, or will you stalk the shadows with your company?'
'I will be riding.'
Arthoniel glanced about confused. The Lord and Lady, as well as the wagon cart, had walked on. 'On what hor- Ai!'
Haldir, in a small feat of strength for an elf, vaulted up onto the soft seat pad behind Arthoniel. His body was uncomfortably close and he stole the reins from her hands.
'Marchwarden! What do you think you are doing? Get off me this instant! Find your own horse!'
'Nenren, is my horse.'
'I do not care. Walk then.'
'No.'
'We are too much weight for Nenren.'
Arthoniel suddenly did not know what to do with her hands. She felt boxed in by the reins and by Haldir's presence behind her. Their legs touched uncomfortably and she leaned foreword to keep a space between them.
'He is a warhorse. Nenren could carry three elves in battle armour if he must. Nor lim Nenren.' The horse took off at a brisk pace. Irritated and her shoulder throbbing dully, Arthoniel threaded her fingers through Nenren's silver mane and held on for the ride.
X
Elves need less rest than men, and their company was hastening home to the Golden Wood, so they did not stop until near dusk.
For the last few hours, Arthoniel had had tears in her eyes. Her thighs chafed and cramped, unused to long rides, her injuries tired her, and each light step of Nenren sent a jolt of pain through her shoulder.
Haldir had not spoken on the ride, and neither had she, although she had felt him make signals in the air with his hand, relaying orders to his invisible sentinels at several points during the day. She was still unsure exactly how many were in their company. For the most part, she ignored her surroundings, instead focussing on the further ahead backs of the Lord and Lady; attempting to distract herself from discomfort with their gentle swaying motion.
Step. Pain. Step. Pain. Step. Pain. It seemed to last an age.
I cannot take it anymore! If only I could stretch..
She felt more than heard the voice by her ear.
'We will stop soon, Arthoniel.'
He pronounces my name differently. More emphasis at the end, like Ar-thon-ee-ELL. I like it.
Arthoniel lent forward precariously over Nenren's neck, trying to stretch her shoulder and giggled, slightly delirious from enduring pain and the associated exhaustion.
A firm arm encircled her front and brought her back to rest against Haldir's chest. The Marchwarden had shifted to holding the reins in his left hand. Unnerved by the closeness, Arthoniel considered pulling away but realised she had not the energy. Her back also cried out with relief at being able to rest against something comfortable…Haldir.
Arthoniel sighed and glanced up through her lowered lashes at her silver haired protector. He said not a word and stared resolutely ahead, ever vigilant. He had a strong jawline and his mouth was set in a straight line. Without meaning to, Arthoniel breathed in his scent.
Fresh mallorn leaves.
It is no use fighting. I will let him have this one small victory.
She turned her head ever so slightly into his neck…and fell asleep.
X
Arthoniel awoke to the sounds of falling water. She was bundled in two cloaks under the branches of a large tree. In the near dark, one cloak smelt faintly of lilacs, the other more strongly, of mallorn leaves. She glanced out to the sky and though the moon shone, the stars were hidden. She lowered her gaze.
Sure enough as the Lady had predicted, in front of her was a medium sized pool, fed softly by a gentle waterfall from the surrounding hills. Arthoniel shed the two cloaks and an instant later, her grey boots were gone. She took a step forward and her body hummed at the thought of cleansing the blood, salt and sand from her form. However, she paused, one foot in front of the other and frowned slightly. Turning, she glanced behind her into the trees.
Why am I alone?
A whisper of leaves turned Arthoniel's head back around. Haldir was suddenly standing in front of her, looking her over. Arthoniel shrieked in surprise and stumbled backwards. His hand shot out, steadying her balance.
She glared at him, clutching at her chest with her free arm. 'Do not do that!'
Grey eyes looked down at her and the corner of Haldir's mouth twitched as he drew his hand back. Without his cloak, his hair flowed like moonlight about his shoulders.
'Where are the others?' She asked.
Haldir nodded his head behind her. 'The camp is on the other side of this glade. The Lady said you would want to bathe when we arrived, so I brought you here.'
Arthoniel blinked at him.
Clearly, carrying an unknown, unconscious elleth through the woods to bathe is a common thing amongst these Lothlorien elves!
'That was kind of her. Now, if you please, I will do exactly that.' Arthoniel nodded, indicating the male elf should leave.
Of course, he stayed right where he was.
'Haldir.'
The Marchwarden shook his silver head. 'No. These are not safe lands. As your protector, I will stay and guard you whilst you bathe.' His ever present silver bow upon his back, his long sword at his hip.
Arthoniel just stood and stared at him in disbelief, she could not bathe with him watching! Her eyes glittered with tears of frustration in the moonlight.
Haldir raised an eyebrow as though she were dense. 'I will turn my back Arthoniel. Strip, and you will find the water deep enough to reach up to your neck in the centre. Call once you are in and I will resume my watch of this area. I will only be able to see your head in the moonlight.'
Relieved at the compromise, Arthoniel hurried to undress as soon as her watchful sentinel turned his back to her. She paused to remove her dagger belt and placed Fang carefully on the ground. Further progress however, was halted when she had to peel parts of her shredded gown from her skin where it has stuck to her blood. She seriously worried that her gown would not survive all the way back to the Golden Wood.
Arthoniel looked down at her naked form. Her pale skin glowed softly in the gentle night light, and she saw it was mottled with bruises and fine lacerations. Several continued to ooze fine rivulets of blood. Feeling up for her shoulder, she grimaced, realising part of the neckline had come away and stuck to the wound.
Closing her eyes, she ripped it off and gasped at the pain.
Haldir twitched. 'Arthoniel…'
'Do not turn around! I am fine.' She hissed and darted for the pool. The icy water was a balm to her heated skin and though she shivered almost immediately, Arthoniel waded up to her neck and called softly to Haldir before just simply standing there, tilting her head back up to the moon and letting the water number her pain.
Ducking her head, she ran her fingers through her hair, luxuriating in the feel of removing salt and grime from every inch of her body. She used the flow of water to untangle the knots in her hair, feeling cleaner than she had done in a long while.
A short while later, and feeling brighter in spirit, she called to Haldir to let him know she was getting out. She could not see him, but was confident that he would hear even her softest of calls. She emerged ringing her hair and made quickly for her clothes under the nearest tree. She dried her body and hair roughly on Galadriel's- no her, cloak and then slightly disgusted, slipped back into her gown before reattaching her dagger about her waist on its fine belt. The long sleeved garment had once been silver, but now it was a mud grey. At this point, it barely kept her key areas covered. She reached down where she had left her cloak on the grass when Haldir appeared, pushing her firmly up against the tree trunk and placed a hand over her mouth. He was not looking at her, however.
Shocked at being pinned by the ellon, the bark pushing against her shoulder horribly, Arthoniel reached for Fang.
'No, Arthoniel.' Haldir was still looking to the East at the hills surrounding the pool. She stilled her hand at his firm command.
Haldir's grey eyes gleamed in the moonlight when he turned to look at her 'Goblins.'
He lowered his hand from her mouth.
Worried for the others, Arthoniel straightened and drew Fang, whilst Haldir notched his bow. He looked at her pale face and tilted his head slightly, blocking her view of the hills.
'They are drawn to the camp; they will not reach it. From the sound of their heavy feet, I guess a company of twenty. Rúmil and the others will have taken to the trees about the tent. It is too late for me to take you back. I will defend you here instead.'
Arthoniel nodded, and steeled herself in time before the first goblin descended over the hill and into her pool. She was disgusted that the creature sullied the water's purity with its evil. Haldir killed it with a silver arrow, and shot the next two to peer over the edge of the hill. Four jumped down the waterfall next and Haldir, swapping his bow for his sword, leapt forward to engage the splinter group in battle. 'Stay there!' He shouted.
He is blocking them from reaching me.
Arthoniel remained sheltered by the tree. She wanted to help, but she was no warrior. She knew she would just distract Haldir further if she entered the fray. Instead, she scanned their surroundings, trying to hear for footsteps as Haldir had done.
She glanced worriedly at her protector, and saw he had slain two goblins, but one of the remaining two seemed to be larger, a commander of some sort. He struck out aggressively with his black mace. Haldir flowed like water, he simply was not where the goblin blades fell. Feinting right, she watched as he sliced cleanly through the leg of the smaller goblin, before parrying the mace of the commander. The goblin fell howling in pain, its right leg missing below the knee as the other two moved on in their deadly dance.
Gathering her courage, Arthoniel strode forward and plunged Fang into the miserable creature's heart where it writhed upon the edge of the natural pool. Her aim however, must have been slightly off because instead of dying instantly, it howled in pain and rage and reached up to grab her by the throat. Caught off guard, she froze and the goblin screeched, pulling her down and rolled itself on top of her. Arthoniel kicked and clawed back and they rolled into the deeper part of the pool. With much splashing, the creature managed to get back on top of her, its hand still encircling her neck. Pushing her head above the water, struggling for breath, she saw that Fang was still gleaming from its chest, lodged in bone.
Arthoniel gasped, her eyes bulging as the creature throttled her and pushed her head under. Struggling underneath its weight, she stopped clawing at its hand on her throat and instead reached her hands up out of the water to grab hold off fang. With a mighty yank, she pulled it free and sliced the blade somewhere into what she hoped was the creature's neck. It died on top of her, spinal cord severed by the lethal edge of Fang.
The dead weight prevented her from reaching air. Panic set in and she fought and thrashed in the dark water. Memories of drowning flooded back and terror clutched at her heart as her lungs burned once more.
And then the weight was gone, and Haldir is there, lifting her into his arms as he glows in the moonlight. Gasping air, Arthoniel noticed he has a streak of black blood on his cheek. A shiver went down her spine and she gently reached up to wipe the blood away with her fingertips as her chest continued to heave. Haldir gazed down at her, letting her touch him.
When she removed her fingers, he blinked and his frown returned. 'Are you incapable of following even the simplest of orders?'
Arthoniel glared, and felt her tender throat. Her shoulder hurt when she reached for it, the injury once more woken in the fight.
He followed her hands, then glanced down her drowned looking body, checking for further injuries. 'You are making a habit of this, Arthoniel.' Shifting to hold her weight in one arm, he reached down and retrieved Fang, placing the dagger back in its sheath on her hip.
She paused and looked up at his grey eyes, and then the moment broke and she felt the shock and terror pass through her. She clutched at Haldir's tunic with white knuckles.
'You are safe now, Arthoniel. The goblins are all slain. They cannot hurt you.' He soothed her.
She mumbled into his chest. 'It was not the goblins that I feared.'
Haldir arched a perfect silver eyebrow down at her. She glanced to where he still stood knee deep in the icy pool, conveying her meaning. Realising her fears, he waded to shore.
She wriggled as he waded, trying to ease the sting in her shoulder blade. She hissed when Haldir unknowingly prodded her in that exact spot as he shifted to keep hold of her.
He heard her and glanced down. 'Arthoniel are you hurt?'
'No..I mean, it was not from the goblin.'
'I will heal you.'
Before she could protest, he set Arthoniel down under the tree, far away from the bodies of goblins, so that she lay on her front on the grassy ground. He knelt down next to her. She blushed furiously at the undignified position. Nevertheless, she held still whilst he gently moved her wet hair off her back. The neckline torn and partially missing, he easily pulled the dress down over her right shoulder blade.
Arthoniel felt him pause at the sight of her wound and laid her cheek against the grass, unspeaking.
Her fëa began to brighten in response to Haldir's healing hands. Despite his strength, he touched her with the utmost care. A sharp tugging sensation made her close her eyes.
'I am sorry, you had a splinter of wood still lodged in you shoulder. I have closed the wound but it was fairly deep. I will need to heal it once more tomorrow.'
She felt him pull the gown further down her back, felt his fingers push the long sleeves up, tracing the cuts down the backs of her arms, the backs of her legs.
His voice was softly quiet. 'Arthoniel…why…why did you not say? Your whole body…I could have helped you.'
Her voice was watery with shame. 'It is no more than the price that Ulmo demanded. Leave it.'
'I will not.'
She buried her tearful face into the grass and Haldir leaned down closer to hear her. 'Haldir…please leave me alone. I deserved it. I deserved more for my failures.'
X
Haldir did not know what she was talking about but he did not care. He grew impatient at her stubbornness refusing to let him heal her fully.
He glared at the back of her dark head where she lay prone before him on the grass.
'You are mine to protect Arthoniel. Now you will behave and let me heal you or so help me I will call for Galadriel.'
Out of character, Arthoniel remained silent but he saw her body tremble.
Haldir looked back at the angry red marks staining her pale skin. Although he loved and honoured the Valar above all else, he wanted at that moment to pierce Ulmo with a thousand birch arrows, if it was truly he that had caused this similar fate to befall Arthoniel.
He forced his fingers to be gentle, stemming the rage that continued to build within as he muttered healing chants to close the many wounds on the back of her body. He was careful to leave alone those areas that would compromise her modesty.
'Where else?' His tone demanded an answer.
X
Arthoniel rolled over with a small sigh, staring straight up at the moon.
'Everywhere but my face.' A hollow laugh. 'I should be grateful.'
She lifted her neck to look up across at where he knelt next to her. Arthoniel saw that his grey eyes had gone very dark. She saw the fury there.
With one hand, she clutched her dress to her breast, with the other she touched Haldir's arm where it hung next to her hip.
'Be calm, Marchwarden. Do not shoulder my burden as your own.'
He stared at her and his dark gaze lightened a fraction to a stormy grey.
'You are the Lady's ward, and mine to protect.' He placed his palm over hers where it lay on his arm. 'By my bow and sword, if I can protect you from harm, I will.'
Arthoniel blinked back at him and then lay her head back down on the grass. It worried her that he did not understand…
She looked across at him and went to open her mouth when Haldir silenced her with a look of cold authority. She knew then that he would rather die than fail to protect those under his care. He read her mind.
'That is my burden to bear as Marchwarden of Lothlorien. It is a duty I take willingly, for there is no greater honour than protecting one's people.'
Her voice was gentle. 'I am not one of your people, Haldir.'
His eyes glittered silver at her. 'You are now. Galadriel has claimed you as her own.'
With that, she watched him as he returned to healing the cuts across her body. The healing tingled, but the relief was enormous.
Closing the final cut across her collarbone, Haldir sighed and leaned back. He stood up, and reaching down, helped Arthoniel to her feet.
Her gown, finally destroyed beyond hope in the fight, slipped from her form. With elven reflexes, Arthoniel snatched the front part of the material to her chest. Her dagger belt saved the material at her waist.
She cried out in panic and blushed, trying to protect her modesty. The tips of Haldir's ears had turned slightly pink, or was that a trick of the moonlight? His face, as always, remained an expressionless mask.
'You cannot wear that anymore, Arthoniel.'
'Oh really. Well what do you suggest I do instead?! Pray, tell, Marchwarden, do your skills include dress weaving?'
Haldir narrowed his eyes slightly and then removed his weapons and placed them on the ground. He reached up and pulled off his outer dark green protective tunic, revealing his pale silver undertunic.
Arthoniel blushed. 'Haldir what on earth are you doing? Put your clothes back on!' He ignored her and removed his undertunic.
Arthoniel could not help but stare at how the moonlight made his muscled chest look as though it were carved from marble. He was magnificent.
Haldir extended his undertunic to her, the soft material was weightless and warm in her hands, drawing her gaze back down.
'Haldir…'
'Would you rather ride back to Lorien, naked except for that cloak?' he raised that silver eyebrow and Arthoniel thought she heard the hint of a challenge in his voice. She quelled her outrage.
'Arthoniel..' Again, he drew the name out across his tongue, making it sound musical to her elven ears, even as he pulled his outer tunic back on. He reattached his cloak and weapons. 'We must return to the others.'
The importance of needing to check the safety of their company outweighed the need to retort in her mind.
Her tone was clipped. 'Hannon le, Marchwarden, now please, turn back around.'
Again, she thought the corner of his mouth twitched but he did as she bid.
She dropped her gown and belt and hurriedly put on Haldir's tunic. It fell to her knees, her lower calves protected by her boots. She was immediately engulfed with the scent of new mallorn leaves. The sleeves were too long and she rolled them up, the material soft as silk in her fingers. She reattached Fang, and all things considered, it was acceptable. With her cloak attached too, it would be difficult to tell what she was wearing.
Sensing she was done, he motioned for her to follow him back through the trees to the camp. Arthoniel stayed at his side.
X
TBC!
