Title: Restoration
Number Author: Fianna
Rating: R
Disclaimer: Tolkien owns the elves of Lothlorien and I write only for the pleasure of their company.
Cast: Haldir, Orophin, Rumil and my own characters
Timeline: Several hundred years after the War of the Ring
Chapter 7
Haldir moved among the trees silently, his steps placed without thought, his mind bent on Thranduil and his words, on Rowen and what she had come to mean to him, and finally, returning back to that which was always in his mind, Lothlorien.
He had never left it unprotected, with nary an elf to stand over her borders. The thought of it unsettled him deeply, concerned as much as his brothers had been, and likely most of the elves that had remained behind after Galadriel had left. Yet they had trusted his decision, and had followed him to the depths of Mirkwood, had stood behind him, and although Rowen may not have realized it, would have protected her against any harm by Thranduil's elves.
And would yet, if such were to occur, without his command. He had to smile at the thought. He might not have spoken freely of his interest in the ranger, but his wardens knew it even so. Which brought his mind to her - and his feelings.
He had not expected to find her so intriguing. Had not wanted to find her interesting in the least. But her concern for his wood had drawn him to her. Her championship of his pain and her intention to do something about it had unsettled him. What could she do?
Indeed, that was the question foremost in his mind. What did she know? What did Thranduil know?
He stopped, chin lifting as he studied the elf in front of him. Tauriel paused, aware of his lack of movement, stopping to look over her shoulder. She did not speak, but watched him curiously. Rowen moved past him, her steps light, her lips curved suddenly into a smile.
It was irritating that she could sense his emotions so easily. He snorted faintly and resumed his steps.
Tauriel looked at Rowen and then turned back to the path with a shrug.
xXx
Tauriel knew Thranduil would expect them to follow quickly, and as expected, she led Haldir and his elves deeper into the forest, where few but elves had step foot in many years. Hidden amid the rolling, thickly wooded forest, Thranduil's current home was a temporary one. Colorful tents spread out in a small open meadow, while a larger crisp white canopy gleamed in the deeper shade, a pavilion set up for the King of Mirkwood. He sat beneath its shade, fingers curled beneath his chin, his gaze on Haldir. What the elf was thinking was never clear, even for Tauriel, even perhaps to his son, Legolas, who stood at his father's side once again.
Legolas did not come to Thranduil often, once a year perhaps to visit, to give news of his travels, to offer grinning stories of his friends, many of whom had since passed on. Tauriel wondered often how long Legolas would stay, and how long Thranduil would remain before leaving for the West. She had thought of it at times, yet the pull to leave was only a faint echo in her mind, her heart still lay tied to the lands of Arda.
Tauriel waved to one of the guardians at the meadow's edge. News had traveled quickly, as it does, and many of the elves of Mirkwood had lined the meadow, curious to the Lorien elves, and more the human ranger a few steps behind. Few had been allowed within the realm of Mirkwood's elven kingdom since the defeat of Sauron, by Thranduil's command.
Tauriel led them across the sunlit glade, and then to the gleaming tent where a table had been set up, with food and drink for all. Thranduil waved them to a seat and nodded to the elves waiting. Everyone sat and chatter whispered between them, a soft murmur that did not mask the tension from the Lorien elves, and more, from the rangers. They sat together in a smaller group, while the woman watched Haldir intently. Tauriel ate without tasting her food, her gaze drifting between the ranger and Haldir. Something shimmered between them, unseen but felt, a tangible cord that stretched from elf to woman.
The ranger had magick. How and why were questions yet to be answered. Thranduil's interest was curious, for surely anything the woman could do was minuscule to one such as he. A hand on her arm made her turn, lifting a brow toward Legolas as he leaned toward her.
"Your gaze is sharp as ever, my friend. What is your concern?"
She smiled faintly. "You are always able to see too much, Legolas. I am simply curious to visitors so rare. What think you of all of this?"
Legolas shifted his gaze, blue eyes once so clear now lay shadowed with remembered pain. "I see pain, Taur, in Haldir, for so much lost. In his elves, his brothers, so much that is purposely hidden but for those who can sense it."
"Like the ranger?" Tauriel sniffed faintly at the thought.
Legolas's gaze shifted to her. "Is it so terrible that she can do so? Perhaps Haldir is lucky to have had her find him? Perhaps, Tauriel-min, she can do what we have not."
"And what is that, Legolas?"
"Save him," Legolas murmured. He sipped his wine, eyes straying once more to Haldir. The March Warden looked up, his grey eyes intent. Had he heard them? Elven ears could hear so much, even when spoken so softly.
Tauriel nudged Legolas. "So what will your father do now?"
Legolas sighed and sat his wine on the table, fingers tapping the cool glass. "Play his usual games perhaps. Or not. I should think after all this time he grows weary of it. Haldir may not allow it."
Tauriel could not help but laugh, choked off as Haldir's gaze returned to them. "He does not have a choice if Thranduil chooses to detain him."
Legolas only smiled, a gleam that did not include his blue eyes.
xXx
Rowen could not hear the red-haired elf, nor Legolas, but she was sure they spoke of Haldir. Thranduil remained silent at the head of the table, sipping his wine, fingers draped off the end of the arm of his chair, a picture of an indolent ruler. She shivered faintly and lowered her chin, closing her eyes to ward off the murmur of voices. She could still hear the trees, but they had quieted to only a faint sing-song in her head, a pleased sound, she thought. They had taken the right steps, had made contact with Thranduil. Could he hear the trees? Did he ignore them, would he ignore Haldir's plight in the face of his own?
The King leaned forward, catching Rowen's attention. She looked up and found a pair of blue eyes watching her, studying her. She shivered again, but sat up, holding the King's gaze.
"You are curious, Ranger. Haldir remains at your side, but I feel his tension, his questions he holds on his tongue." Thranduil's voice quieted the remaining conversation as everyone looked at Rowen. "You say little, yet I gather you have much sway over an elf I have always found nearly intractable." The King smiled at Haldir in amusement.
Rowen didn't look at Haldir. "I have answered what I could, my lord. I have no power over the March Warden, you are mistaken."
Thranduil lifted a brow. "No? So he has not forsaken what little remains of his forest to follow you?"
She frowned, the thought of it that way making her uncomfortable, even as it was true. But for good reason, she hoped. "I did not ask to him to follow me, my lord."
A hand covered hers, surprising her. "She did not ask. It was my choice to follow her, to leave all that I love behind." Haldir removed his hand and stood up to lean on the edge of the table. "I have applied all the patience that I have left, to follow, not to question, to remain silent. I have eaten at your table, Thranduil, as good grace would have me do. This ends now."
The Mirkwood King sat back into his chair, fingers to his lips, perhaps, Rowen thought, to hide his smile, his eyes narrowed so she could not read his expression. Haldir had stepped back from the table. What would he do? Rowen turned around, biting her lip. Had she pushed him? The trees had gone quiet, their silence deafening when she needed their assurance this was right.
Everyone seemed to hold their breath, the Mirkwood elves strained, eyes shifting from Haldir to their king. Tauriel was frozen, her hand reaching for her wine, eyes wide. Legolas watched Thranduil.
The Mirkwood King sighed. "You have journeyed long, Haldir. An eve's rest might make you more genial."
"Or not," Haldir returned stiffly.
Thranduil pushed his chair back, a faint wave of his fingers settled the elves around him. "Or not. I would offer you a moment's rest, but you refuse. So it shall be." He stopped beside Rowen, nearly as tall as Haldir, his hair a silky mass to his waist, a gleaming waterfall against the darker blue silk of his tunic. He held out his hand, palm up, to Rowen. She blinked, and then placed her own into his, and he pulled her to her feet, waving her forward. "Come, the trees insist we speak privately."
She walked beside the King of Mirkwood, hand held loosely in his, his fingers cool against her skin, yet she could feel the strength in those fingers, the skills inherent in the elf guiding her forward. They walked out of the pavilion and through a maze of tents, with Haldir a glowering silent wraith behind them. She wanted to turn, to look at him, to assure him this would work out in his favor, yet the force of the elf beside her held her tongue, his amusement clear, his control mocking them both.
They were not followed. Not even Legolos. She was surprised. They stopped at a small tent sitting in the shadow of a large oak tree. Thranduil swept aside the door flap and stepped inside. Rowen looked back toward Haldir but she had only a moment to assess him before he pushed her forward into the tent.
It was larger than she expected. Thranduil stood at a small table, his back to them. Several small lamps emited a flickering shadowed light. Several chairs sat on a thick rug, a few chests lay near the outside walls, and in the back, a large bed sat closed in by heavy curtains.
Rowen blinked, unsettled to think this was Thranduil's personal chamber.
He turned, hands moving to his back as he stared at them both. "Indeed, Rowen, this is my tent. Does it not seem shocking that an elf of my stature should be brought so low as to sleep in such a temporary home as this?"
She felt a sudden flush of heat, of anger that just as quickly dissipated. She blinked and then stepped forward, lifting a hand as if to touch Thranduil. He retreated a step. "You hold much anger, my lord. Yet, also more, feelings you do not wish to share." The anger had been offered, allowed.
Thranduil held up a hand. "We are not here to talk about me. Haldir grows impatient."
Rowen nodded. "Yes, he is." She turned to the March Warden. "This is your chance, Haldir of Lorien. Ask your questions now."
xXx
Haldir remained by the door, arms folded over his chest, wondering if not for the first time, if he'd lost his mind. He had left Lorien many times before, had dealt with the obdurate ruler of Mirkwood too many times to count. Trusted him less than a dwarf hoarding his gold. How truthful would the elf be to questions asked? Rowen did not know Thranduil. She had relied on something few could do, listening to creatures that spoke to very very few.
Was there some reason for this, did the loss of his forest, his beloved Mallorns have anything to do with her commune with the wood folk. He wondered.
Thranduil sat in one of his chairs, waved Rowen to the other. "Speak your mind, Haldir. We are alone, none will think ill of your doubts, nor be amused by questions." The King leaned forward, his hair draped over one shoulder, blue eyes intent and mocking.
"Why?"
Thranduil tilted his head. Smiled his enigmatic smile. And then he looked at Rowen. "He asks why. Why what? Why do you talk to the trees? Why do they respond to you? Why have you stepped into his life? Why does he fancy you?" Thranduil leaned back again, draping an arm over the back of the chair. "Why, why, why... so many whys, Haldir, one does not know where to start."
"Why would you help me?" Haldir returned, lifting his chin when Thranduil smiled again.
"Why not? You have come this far, why should I not help one of my kin?"
Haldir clenched his teeth. This Thranduil was unsettling. "Because you never help, Thranduil, unless there is something in it for you."
The Mirkwood King smoothed his fingers over his lips. "Of course there is something in this for me, Haldir." He turned his head toward Rowen. The look he gave her made the ranger shiver. Haldir dropped his arms, fingers clenched, but did not move forward.
"Have you claimed her, March Warden?" Thranduil's voice dropped a level, his gaze still pinned on Rowen.
"No."
"Then you will relax your posture. I mean her no harm, in any way, warden."
"What can you do to help. I have no patience for your games." Haldir moved to stand behind Rowen and rested his hands on the back of her chair. She sat frozen, eyes closed. Was she listening, using her senses to see beyond the words between them?
"You never play, Haldir. You are always so tiresome, always straight to the point. It is a wonder Galadriel kept you as her emissary. You never respond in any way other than absolute sincerity." Thranduil rose to his feet, crossing the room, hands folded once again behind his back. "Fine, I will get straight to your point, for she senses far too much." He turned around, facing Haldir and Rowen. "But..." At Haldir's frown he chuckled.
"But," Rowen spoke suddenly. "He will not offer you the answer, but expects me to do so for him. He wants to know what I know." She stood up to face Haldir. "He has something for your wood. Something he's had for a very very long time."
Haldir's jaw ached from the tension of clenched teeth, wanting nothing more than to throttle both of them. "And what pray tell, is the damn thing?"
"Can you not guess, Haldir?" Rowen glanced over her shoulder at Thranduil. "What lies so deep in your heart, what breaks it so terribly?"
The chair creaked from the tension of Haldir's fingers. Rowen held up her hand before he could answer. "Trees, Haldir. He has trees, your trees."
xXx
If Thranduil had not known Haldir's inner strength, he would have stepped forward, for any lesser elf, man would have been so shocked by the ranger's words they would have fallen to their knees. But Haldir remained standing, if frozen, his normally bland expression filled with surprise. Those grey eyes shifted, narrowed as they settled on Thranduil. Galadriel knew her warden intimately, and had know his reactions as well. They had discussed this very day many times.
"You knew what would happen to Lorien." Haldir's voice held a note of accusation.
Thranduil shrugged. "What could I do to change it? I had no idea when, Haldir."
The ranger moved forward and placed a hand on Haldir's arm. Thranduil saw the elf flinch, drawing back from her touch. He lifted a brow in amusement.
"Does it matter, Haldir?" Rowen asked. "However he came by them, he has them."
"How did you know?" Haldir blinked, as if the idea of what Thranduil held was just only settling into his mind.
"Galadriel, of course. Her mirror shows many things, some that do not always come to pass. But could she leave knowing a possibility still existed?" Thranduil moved across the room and grasped Haldir's arm much like the ranger had done, but did not allow the elf to retreat. "I had them, I should explain, hidden deep within my kingdom. But I cannot say if they still exist, for I am no longer King in my own city."
The ranger stepped between them, pushing Haldir back a step. It was a sign of Haldir's confusion that he did so. "Then we must go there to find them."
xXx
Rowen sat beside Haldir, for he had finally lowered himself to a chair, his gaze distant, wary. "Do you not believe him?"
"It is not that I do not believe, for I also know Galadriel." Haldir closed his eyes and shoved a hand into his hair. "I simply am overwhelmed." He sighed, a weary sound that tore at Rowen's heart. "I fear to hold hope of any such thing."
Thranduil sniffed faintly. "I am quite sure they remain where I left them. The humans who claimed my city would not know to find the door. Trust me, they are still alive."
"How am I to transport something that must still be centuries old?" Haldir shook his head.
"Certainly, they are that old, for it was many years ago that we discussed this plan," Thranduil agreed. "But as Galadriel was able to accelerate the growth of your trees in Lorien, so too could she slow the growth of the seedlings I hold for you."
Rowen watched Haldir closely, but it wasn't his expression that moved her so deeply, but the waves of pain that emanated from him, the sorrow and loss. She wanted only to wrap her arms around him, to hold his head against her breast in comfort, yet she knew he would not bend, would not allow any to see his weakness as he saw it.
Thranduil knelt beside Haldir, a pose so unlike him, even Rowen could note it, for Haldir's eyes widened as he leaned away from the Mirkwood King. "Even I can see your pain, Haldir of Lorien. You have lost far too much. For that I am sorry. Forgive me my arrogance, for once, being King is not so easy. I wish only to do my part, as I have promised, and return some grace to the wood that is Lothlorien."
Haldir sucked in a breath, bent forward and covered his face with his hands. He sat still, while Thranduil looked at Rowen with a faint lift of his brow. She moved closer to press her hands on his shoulders.
Immediately she felt the pain as it spread up through her hands. She had thought she knew the depths of his despair, yet this was so consuming, so overwhelming it made her dizzy with the power of it. How he had kept it inside, hidden for none to see, so deep it horrified her. For such emotions were never meant to be held back, but needed to be unleashed, however they must, or such would fester and eat at the heart. She nearly wept, but bit her lip to hold her own emotions at bay.
He continued to sit, alone and with no sound, struggling she knew to contain what now refused to stay hidden. She squeezed his shoulder, sent prayers to those who might listen to ease him, to allow him to retreat into the emotionless place he had used to remain sane.
After a moment, Thranduil stood up and went to a table to pour a glass of wine. He returned to Haldir and held it out. "Drink this, it will help."
Haldir sat up, his hands on his knees, eyes closed. Rowen knelt beside him and took one of his hands. "It will be fine, Haldir. We will return the trees to Lorien. You will have something once more to care for, to protect."
A cough outside made Thranduil turn to look. He leaned toward Haldir and placed the wine in the March Warden's hand. Then he went to the door, folding back the flap to allow Legolas inside.
"He frightens his brothers, his wardens. They can sense something is amiss." Legolas glanced at Haldir with a frown.
"He is fine," Thranduil replied. "Just overwhelmed, as you already know since you have been unabashedly eavesdropping on a conversation that does not pertain to you."
Legolas only smiled. "I was simply protecting my father. One never knows if Haldir's temper may overrule his normal reputed control." He let the smile fade and tilted his head, much like Thranduil often did. "What must I tell your brothers, Haldir? They are nearly frantic with worry."
"I am fine. Give me a few more moments."
Legolas touched his brow, bowing his head. "As you command, March Warden." He left the tent, but not without looking back, meeting Rowen's gaze with a frown.
"Drink your wine, March Warden," Thranduil insisted. "I will speak to my son. We will leave tomorrow. But the journey will not be easy, for the city is no longer mine and we are not welcome there." The Mirkwood King sighed, and then stepped forward to grip Haldir's shoulder. "I will have Tauriel come for you, to take you to a place to rest." He walked to the door. "And you, Ranger. You will join us on this journey, we will have need of you yet."
