A/N: Huge delay with this story, apologies! I'm frustrated with it though as I feel only now in the penultimate chapter that I've really got a sense of the story and my writing is good enough to do it justice... but oh well! Enjoy, constructive criticism welcome as always...
Waiting alongside her was a boy growing well into his manhood. Ariende glanced casually across at Túrin's eager expression, the boyish enthusiasm in his eyes still not wholly concealed by the set jaw and proud, upright stance. Smiling, she turned back to her vigil and scanned the trees in front of her; word had been sent with the last change of wardens that Beleg would be returning to the halls at the end of the season, and so now she and Túrin awaited his return.
The passing years and months had been pleasant indeed. With Túrin to mind and with Beleg having promised to instruct him there were many happy days for Ariende when her love was returned to the halls of Menegroth to begin their growing friend's instruction. Although he was busy and kept to his purposes there was always a sliver of time between just themselves for a walk beneath the boughs or a dance in the halls.
Drawing her thick cloak closer around her body, Ariende buried her face down against the biting winter wind that circled them. Shifting from foot to foot, part in an effort to warm up and part in agitation from waiting Túrin glanced, irritated, at her.
"I don't know how you stand all this waiting!"
"Patience is a virtue," she replied with a wink and a nod in the direction of the trees to the familiar figure she had just sighted approaching. Then with the fleet feet of the elves she dashed across the bridge and frostbitten ground to steal a quick embrace in her love's arms before Túrin could catch up. Ariende felt the laugh reverberate through Beleg's chest as he spun her around with the usual endless energy. Settled on her feet once more and at his side she tried not to grin at Túrin approaching with a roll of the eyes.
"Greetings friend, I trust you are well," Beleg clasped the youth's shoulder warmly,
"Well enough to perhaps best you this time with the sword!" the young man replied with a laugh, "It is good to have you back."
Beleg's hand casually clasped Ariende's as the three walked back toward the halls, "Indeed it is good to be back. Hmm, best me? You know what they say about pride…"
"No?" Túrin queried. With a sly glance for Ariende, Beleg slipped away and drifted to the forest edge again, effortlessly drawing his light blade and tossing it from one hand to the other, "Well you will soon find out young man!"
Ariende could not help but smile and nod encouragingly to Túrin to follow to the practice grounds they often used, "I hope you do not find out too hard, for your sake," she joined in the teasing.
"Beleg only just returned and we are training already, I wonder you won't curse me someday for taking him away from you!"
Slipping back into the warmth of the halls Ariende deposited her thick cloak and fur lined boots before making her way to the great hall, there was to be music and time for needlework and reading – a quiet but companionable courtly day. It would help occupy her mind whilst she waited for the tales and warmth Beleg would bring. It was not too long before she found herself looking up from the large standard Melian and her ladies were working on to the opening doors and her love striding through them. His eyes were purposefully settled on the King as he strode to the high dais and knelt before it, almost a different person to whom had spun her round gaily outside in the frost. It was frustrating sometimes, how he could separate everything out so.
"I bring word from the Marches needing your attention my Lord," his voice rang clear and strong about the halls, music faded out and the quiet hum of conversation died down. The fair face was grave and Ariende felt suddenly chilled, if word was so serious should he not have come sooner, perhaps he wanted to avoid attention, had hoped the rooms would be quieter? The King must have nodded for her thoughts were disrupted as the folk in the room began to disperse from their groups and filter out of the main doors. Threading her silver needle through the material over her lap Ariende secured her place and stitches before rising and brushing stray wafts of thread off her skirts. Amongst the movement she glanced to Beleg who stood quietly still in front of the dais. By chance he too, glanced her way and with a flicker of his eyes gestured to the presence chamber the other side of the hall doors. Nodding briefly she hurried out with the rest, not to delay any news.
With the thick doors closed behind her she waited restlessly, braiding the tasselled ends of her woven girdle. A noise broke her fingers from their nimble movement and eagerly looking up Ariende was confronted with a weary looking Túrin. Rolling his neck he looked ruefully at her, "Pride comes before a fall. And a hefty one at that."
Smiling sympathetically Ariende was about to reply when the youth noticed the closed doors with a puzzled expression, "I came to tell Beleg I'd finished cleaning the training blades and placed Belthronding in his rooms… he said he was coming here but I didn't expect this," he said frowning at the doors.
"No one expected this I think Túrin, I will tell Beleg for you if you wish to go, I made sure there were fresh towels in your room,"
"Thank you," he sighed gratefully, she smiled gently at his retreating figure before turning her attention back to the closed doors behind her. It was tempting to listen, her worry almost drove her to it but it was not her place to know what was said beyond. If she was to know then he would tell her, but she feared there were many dangers and threats he left unspoken to save her concern.
Ceasing her pacing she forced herself to sit in one of the intricately carven chairs, hewn intricately from the very walls that surrounded her. It was a shame none of the other maidens had stayed, company and distraction would have been a relief from the stillness and creeping anxiety. Of late it seemed her thoughts oft turned to doom and fear no matter what Ariende could do to shake the feelings, perhaps she should consult the Lady. It was not wise to ignore such signs. Yet when she was with him the feelings abated and the world seemed bright again, then she did not try to fathom the treacherous turns of fate and the future before her.
So deep in thought was she that Ariende did not even heed the doors had been reopened until Beleg stood before her. Looking up as the shadow fell across her she was relieved to see the relaxed and confident smile she was used to back on his face.
"You are released from your services for the rest of this day," he announced, offering a steady hand to help her up, "And I intend to covet all of that time for myself whether the fair lady minds or no!"
"That is well, for I have much to ask you," she replied taking his hand, before she could even ask he cut of her words with reassuring tones,
"Yes, how fare the Marches I presume?" closing his hand around her own Beleg began leading them away from the hall speaking evenly and calmly, "Yes, the situation around our borders has worsened yet it is nothing we cannot control. Try not to worry so, I will not let this evil prevail as long as I remain here,"
"I know," she sighed wistfully as he squeezed her hand, "I wish the Noldor had not come bloody handed to these shores and bringing this war with them,"
Slowly Beleg shook his head, "I feel this enemy would have reached us so with or without their war, love. Now, do not let trouble rest on your heart overlong, I fear you have been listening to too many of Dearon's songs," he winked at her and Ariende could not help but smile.
Needle readied, Ariende perched on the end of a bed and held up one of Beleg's tunics for inspection, trying not to think about how the large, stained tear on the arm got there. It was just about fixable without having to patch it though there would have been plenty of other items to sacrifice for a patching she thought with a wry glance the pile of clothes beside her. Initially she had begun mending things for him in her own rooms but as she was increasingly finding more wear or more rips it made much more sense just to go through his laundry each time he was residing in the halls.
Hearing the rushing of footsteps from the hallway she paused in her work and waited for Túrin to come dashing into the room, it was never hard to detect those steady steps.
"You will find him at the armoury," she greeted Túrin as he stepped into the room looking about for Beleg,
"Thank you," he bowed his head briefly, "I am doing so much I dare not miss any opportunity for practice! I can near outshoot him now though I much prefer bladework – there I think I may finally best him one day! I will be leaving for the Marches before long."
"That is well, I am glad you continue to work hard and honour your name. Though what of your other friends?" Ariende tried to slip the question in as subtly as possible, "Nellas misses you…"
The deep frown settled across Túrin's face all too predictably, she wished immediately that she had made no mention of the matter.
"The same way you miss Beleg?" he retorted sharply, "I will not be trapped by love."
Holding her breath along with several sharp words Ariende looked down and continued with her stitching, letting him calm himself or leave if he wished. It was surprising when he spoke again so soon, a question fully of curiosity yet bluntly thrown at her.
"Why are you not married?"
Looking up at his face Ariende found herself caught in unexpected thoughts, "I… I…" she truly wasn't sure why. It wasn't that she did not wish to, and she suspected such was not the case on his behalf. Though as always it came down to his other great love and unfettered life. With a troubled sigh she shook her head and collected her thoughts.
"It is not my place to tie him so. You've seen the way he is in his woodlands, the way his heart beats with that of the earth and the trees. My heart is happy to beat with his unrestrained, for it is all I love in him also."
Scents of spiced wine and fresh pine boughs filled the dancing hall and Ariende's senses as she was swept about the room. Winter was always a time of happiness for her for it was then that he stayed the longest and then that they would dance the most. Many were gathered in celebration, even Túrin now guided her to the timing of the music. Though his grip about her hands was near crushing Ariende said naught and smiled and laughed at his tales of training enthusiasm. The musicians had barely finished their playing when Beleg sidled up to them and claimed Ariende for another dance.
"He grows well," he said proudly, eyes following Túrin's retreating figure. And it was indeed true Ariende thought. He who was once a boy was now indeed nearly a man, steadily gathering the pride and stature of his forefathers he grew by the day under the care and tutelage of Menegroth. She only wished it was not the arts of war that he so flourished in. The next tune began and with their flowing steps her unease began to melt away, from over Beleg's shoulder she could see Túrin happily engaged in conversation with Celebros and several of the other wardens.
"He will seek to leave with you soon, these halls shall not hold him for long… though there is much sadness, much anger in him" she could not stay the worry from her eyes as she looked back to her love, "and discontent lies in others."
Beleg's eyes drifted slowly from her own across the room to where Saeros sat near yet far away enough from Túrin and knew if he'd care to look closer he would see the dark, envious looks. For a moment Ariende saw his lips set to a thin angry line before he shook his head and whatever troubled thoughts aside.
"Túrin is sensible, he holds his tongue despite the insults and veiled jibes. I feel if it was myself confronted so I would strike the spite filled fool."
Drawing closer to him as the music slowed and moved into a new tune Ariende squeezed his hand comfortingly as he let out a sigh, "Let us not mar this night with talk of envy or fear," she murmured against his ear as he held her, "I shall be comforted that such friendship will guard you both in whatever the future will bring."
And so the years passed and Túrin followed Beleg to the borders whilst Ariende would wait for them both. Though it seemed the more he grew so did the sorrow inside, his pride would not accept comfort nor sympathy from his friends and so it grew.
Hurrying through the labyrinth of passages Ariende eagerly sought news of her beloved. Word had reached her that Túrin had returned at last from the marches and it was whispered that he was not himself. Heart besieged by the unknown it thudded within her as Ariende stepped into one of the lesser halls. Feet were brought to a jarring stop. Outlined in the low torchlight Túrin stood as one mindless, towering in his height above the stricken body of Saeros. "Túrin!" she gasped in horror as the hall exploded into frenzied life around her. In that moment she wished for Beleg as she had never before. Bodies shouted and restrained, pushed and gaped as Túrin strode through them towards the doors. No word could reach him and Ariende stared long after Saeros when he too left the hall with hateful and spiteful thought.
Unable to reach Túrin that night Ariende was restless throughout the night and next morning where she sat upon the grass with others of the halls in feast and pleasantry. It seemed as a knot was in her stomach though and she was unable to fully enjoy her company or the entertainment for the events of the previous night weighed heavy on her heart. And then, over the faint music played her hearing picked up the clashing of blades and cries of fear and frenzy. Before she could pause to think Ariende found herself chasing with the rest of the crowd, following them into the trees in dismay as she heard the clamour of sword and shrieking voice. The cries echoed around the trees, hate and fear seemed to fill the woods as her bare feet beat down upon the earth in an effort to keep up so she may do something, anything, to prevent events spiralling further out of control for she felt she knew too well what the cause of the noise must be. The long and heavy skirt caught about her legs and on branch and bracken as the chase led further and further on, greens of the forest blurring alongside her with the flashes of colour marking others in chase. Despite her efforts Ariende knew there was no chance that she could keep up with the swiftest let alone the frenzied speed that Túrin kept encumbered as she was. Eyes darting from figure to figure and to the way in front of her, she sought desperately for aid. The figure of Mablung was ahead, gathering up her skirts and lengthening her stride she strove to at least catch up, crying out his name, "Cease this madness for a friendships sake!" she called after him imploringly as he paused to turn. Seeing him nod before sprinting off Ariende let her steps slow and with that her thoughts ran wild.
With tidings of Túrin and Saeros hanging over her as a doom Ariende waited anxiously for Beleg to return, and prayed that he would return in time to stop any harsh or unjust judgement made against their friend. Knowing Túrin as she did, Ariende was sure that he spoke truly when he claimed death was not his intent. His flight into the wilds was all down to pride.
Striding to and fro across the bridge over the fast flowing waters of Esgalduin in her wait, Ariende sought for any means that could stay the oncoming trial should her love not return in time, or worse if they should not be able to think of means to prove their friend innocent. So troubled was she that she did not pick up on the faint approaching steps until she was grasped from behind and swung around off her feet.
"Oh Beleg!" she cried, turning and holding him to her, "Never have I been more relieved to see you safely home,"
"What ails you? Why this worry?" he asked, bright smile fading as he distanced them to look into her eyes.
"I do not know how to break this to you love, yet our great friend is in dire need of your aid –"
"Is Túrin well?" he broke into her sentence, face drawn with sudden concern,
"I can only hope he is… he struck Searos and then beat him into the woods as an animal the very next day, I could not keep up, they were as madmen rushing through the trees - tidings brought back by the swiftest say that Saeros died in the rocky cleft that feeds this river and that though he denied any murderous intent Túrin would not stand to trial but fled into the woodlands" the words tumbled quickly from her lips as she tried to explain "I know he would not have done such a thing as murder or have shamed Saeros unjustly, as you would know, but he refuses to defend himself and they seek to sentence when the King returns within the week!"
"Grave news this is indeed," Beleg murmured looking to the skies as if for an answer, "I had hoped it would never come to this and my coming to the halls is all but too late to aid him!"
As he slammed his hands down upon the bridge in frustration Ariende rested a calming hand upon his shoulder, "You can vouch for him and his honour, your voice is well heard and your word respected – surely that would be enough?"
"But not long enough do we have to make a proper case before the return of the King and I fear our closeness could confound any word I say for him. And not long enough do I have to fetch him back either."
They both paused in thought under the still moonlight, tense and fraught with their worry and the apparent direness of the situation.
"There must have been some who saw it happen!" exclaimed Beleg suddenly, turning to Ariende for confirmation, "At least one runner must have been fleet enough to witness the event and confirm the truth we know it to be?"
Sadly Ariende shook her head, "No runner from the halls, not even Mablung, saw the fall or what prompted the dreadful chase – if they had they would have spoken for they all love Túrin too…"
"What of those who are not from the halls?" a lighter tone crept to Beleg's voice with hope "What of those who live in the woods, surely there must have been someone who –"
"Nellas!" Ariende cried suddenly, grasping hold of Beleg's hand joyously "Nellas would have seen it, I am sure of it. Túrin cannot set foot amongst the trees without her watchful eyes upon him!"
"I must leave now if I am to find her and bring her in time to save him, it will not be easy convincing her to enter the halls. You must speak for Túrin and delay any verdict for as long as you can."
Eyes shining in the darkness Beleg stepped forward and kissed her swiftly on the cheek before sprinting off into the night.
