Warning: Brief mention of self harm in this chapter.
Chapter Eleven
Haldir guided the silent woman beside him, leading her in the direction of a quiet glade with a small stream running through it. Only when he urged her to sit on the lush swath of lawn beside him did she seem to look around and take note of her surroundings.
"Why have you brought me here?" she asked in confusion.
"I thought you would find the peace of this place to be a welcome respite before you retire for the night."
Ahrhî smiled faintly, running her fingertips over the cool grass. "You are very kind."
Haldir stretched his legs out before him, bracing his weight against his hand as he leaned back and studied her. "I do not know that I have ever been accused of such before, but if you think me so, I will not disabuse you of the notion."
"Is it for pity or duty that you show me this consideration?" she asked seriously, ignoring his attempt to lighten her mood.
His expression did not change, but his gaze sharpened. "For neither reason. Do you think so little of yourself? My care for you is based entirely on your own merit as a person, not from pity or a sense of obligation."
Ahrhî ripped blades of grass from the ground in anger. "What should I think of myself? Where may I go and feel welcome? If I live among the race of men, I must watch those I would love age and die. Yet I am inferior to the elves and do not belong among any of you either, possessing neither grace nor beauty nor talent." She looked at him and her gaze was dull.
"Do you not see?" she said in a small voice, "I am a mongrel, Haldir, there is no place or people I belong to. I daresay there are none who would even want me, and I cannot blame any for feeling such a way."
His anger kindled, he grasped her firmly by the shoulders, but immediately gentled his grip when she flinched.
"Cease to speak of yourself in this demeaning way. Your vision is falsely clouded by these misguided thoughts of inferiority, but I see you clearly. Both Lord Celeborn and Lady Galadriel also care for you! Do not doubt my word when I declare you are a person of worth."
Shocked by his passionate words, a warmth bloomed in her chest to discover he seemed to think so well of her; far better than she did of herself. Unexpectedly amused by his fierce defense, she could not resist teasing him a little. "Because you declare a thing, does that make it true? If so, you are powerful, indeed! Your word alone could shape worlds."
Taken aback by her suddenly capricious turn of mood and playful comment, Haldir smiled, his anger spent. "You have a quick tongue, Naurwen. It gives me pleasure to speak with you." He released her and stood to his feet.
She smirked, then looked up at him with eyes wide with feigned innocence. "Does my tongue only give you pleasure when I speak, Haldir?"
He laughed softly while she stood and faced him, amused by her boldness. "Nay woman, do not begin such things with me at this late hour. You are in need of rest. Come, I will return you to your talan."
Annoyed at his words as well as his orders, she lifted her skirts and walked to the stream, watching the quick rush of the water flowing past. "I shall return to the talan when I am of a mind to. I require no guide; I remember the way. You may leave me if that is your desire."
Silence greeted her, and she turned to look back at him, but was startled by the touch of his hand in her hair and his presence beside her. His eyes glinted with an intensity that invited caution, and she suppressed a sudden shiver under his regard. "You dismiss me with all the imperiousness of a queen," he said in a deceptively soft tone.
She glared. "You are one to speak. Surely your arrogance and condescension know no bounds!" So focused on his eyes was she, that she took no notice of how he maneuvered her closer to him until a mere breath separated them. A slight smile graced his lips but did not reach his eyes. "We are a match then."
Belatedly realizing his intention but feeling decidedly contrary and not of a mind to cooperate, she attempted to step back, but was kept from escape by the hand he had buried in her hair, firmly gripping the back of her head. When his mouth was but a hairsbreadth from hers, she turned her head, offering only her cheek to him.
He did not allow that to deter him and paid great attention to it, brushing his lips across her skin; soft and delicate, like the gentle caress of a butterfly's wing against the petals of a rose. His whispered words were as warming as his touch. "Why do you deny me? Do you not enjoy my touch or the taste of my tongue in your mouth? Tell me in truth."
Ahrhî struggled to think of a reason why she should deny him, but her thoughts were scattering like leaves in the wind, and it took all her effort to form a coherent reply. "You did not ask. You must say the words, for I will go no further without them." She threw his own demands back at him, and waited breathlessly for his response.
He went still against her neck where he had been nuzzling her beguilingly and drew back to look at her. In his eyes she read a complex mingling of feelings- amusement, approval, annoyance, and desire at the forefront. He dropped his hand from her hair and stood passively before her, but his voice was low and deep.
"Kiss me, Naurwen, give me the pleasure of your lips once more."
Seized by uncertainty but determined not to show it, she placed her hands hesitantly on his forearms. Ghosting her fingertips up his arms, she pressed firmly against his muscled shoulders, finally lacing her hands in the silken hair that rested against his neck and flowed down his back.
Meeting his keen gaze at last, she pulled him down until she was able to press her lips to his. His response was minimal as he stood with his hands at his sides, allowing her to touch him as she wished. Emboldened at having free reign over Haldir, she caught his bottom lip in her teeth, then sucked it gently, running her tongue across the top.
It was at this point that Haldir put aside all forced passivity. His arms caged Ahrhî against him, crushing her breasts against the firm wall of his chest and burying his fingers in her hair once again, and applying gentle pressure to tilt her head back. She sighed with pleasure as he once again assumed control of their kiss, happy to give herself over to his masterful touch.
Only at his grunt of displeasure, immediately followed by his pulling away did she suspect anything was amiss. His smile was rueful but amused. "You seem to have a great penchant for excessive hair tugging. While I am not adverse to some manner of roughness, I confess, I am not overly fond of having my hair pulled. Perhaps in future, I may find other things to occupy your hands with."
Her consternation was quickly forgotten in the face of her curiosity. "What things do you speak of that I should occupy my hands with?"
By this time, Haldir had taken her arm, and was leading her back to the guest talan. "A sumptuous banquet is best savored slowly, and one succulent dish at a time. If you gobble down the main course before you have even tasted the appetizer, you will be left dissatisfied."
He opened the door to the talan and ushered her inside, and she turned to face him, crossing her arms in annoyance. "I would far prefer you to speak plainly. I detest vague analogies."
He smiled at her piqued expression, then proceeded to completely disregard her comment.
"Do you wish to practice your bow skills on the morrow? Or, I could give you a lesson in the sword if you prefer. I believe you have no liking for idleness."
She narrowed her eyes, annoyed by his abrupt change of subject, but finally nodded. "Thank you, some practice would be most welcome. I know I need to improve my sword skills. I am a poor student though, I warn you."
Haldir came and kissed her on the cheek, preparing to leave. "A student is only as good as the teacher. We shall see how you fare under my tutelage."
He turned to leave, but she caught his hand, stopping him. "Wait! Will you unbind me from these laces 'ere you go? I have no wish to sleep in this gown."
He inclined his head. "Of course."
She turned and presented her back to him. He made quick work of the laces that held the gown closed, and as they loosened, the scar on her right shoulder became visible. He reached out to trace the small mark that was a testament to the danger she had faced.
"How did you come by this, Ahrhî?" His voice was unusually grave, and the use of her proper name almost sounded strange from his lips, so quickly she had grown accustomed to his pet name for her. She looked back over her shoulder at him, bringing her fingers up to trace the old scar.
"A poisoned orc blade when I was but nineteen. He snuck up behind me while I supported Hathor from a distance with my bow." Her expression turned harsh, a bitter twist to her mouth. "I repaid him for his unwelcome gift. I gutted him with his own blade."
Wanting to remove the grim look from her eyes, he took her face in his hands and kissed her gently, and was rewarded by a smile when he released her.
"I shall come for you in the morning. Rest well."
She clutched the gown against her to hold it in place. "Good night, Haldir."
He closed the door softly behind him, and Ahrhî stood for some time in the same spot he had left her in. She rubbed her forehead, which had begun to throb as she thought of all she had learned since entering the realm of Lothlórien.
Haldir started away from the guest talan, when Rúmil came bounding up the path, smiling as he stopped in front of Haldir.
"Greetings, brother. I see you have been keeping our fair guest occupied. I was just going to visit Ahrhî."
Haldir clapped him on the shoulder. "Well met, Rúmil. You cannot visit her this night as she has already retired. I take it that all is well at the fences?"
Rúmil gave him a suspicious look, leaned close to him and sniffed, then laughed knowingly. "All is quiet at the border, Haldir, but perhaps it is not so quiet here."
Haldir crossed his arms, waiting for the inevitable teasing that was so much a part of his youngest sibling. He sighed. "To what are you referring? As if I could not guess," he muttered.
He slipped an arm around Haldir's shoulders, and they began to walk to their own talan.
"You smell strongly of woman, brother. Her scent is all over you. I told Orophin you were not so indifferent to her, as he seemed to think." He looked at Haldir closely. "I think you have kissed her, have you not?"
Haldir gave him an icy glare. "That is not your affair."
Rúmil snickered. "Nay, brother, but I think it may be yours." He snapped his fingers suddenly. "Orophin owes me a bottle of wine."
Haldir shrugged Rúmil's arm off. "Do not speak of her so disrespectfully. She is a complete innocent."
Rúmil grinned and shook his head. "Perhaps she was before she met you, but I wager she will not remain that way for long."
"You are unspeakable, Rúmil. I think you should keep your distance from Ahrhî, as you are likely to have a corrupting influence on her."
He laughed. "You need not fear my influence. I have no wish to relieve her of any innocence." He stared pointedly at Haldir. "Can you make the same assertion?"
Haldir turned from his brother and began walking away. "You go too far, Rúmil."
"Just mind you do not do the same, Haldir," he called with a smug grin.
Haldir continued on his way, the only outward sign of his disapproval, a slight clenching of his jaw.
Despite a valiant effort to rest, sleep eluded Ahrhî. Her mind was a tumbling mess of shifting thoughts and emotions. Everything she had always known of who she was, the very basic assumption of her own mortality, had been swept away in a single night. It seemed impossible that she could feel even more adrift and alone than when she learned of Hathor's death, but she did.
How was she to reconcile with this new reality? Who was she really? Would the knowledge that she would never wither with age change the way she lived her life? Should it?
She growled in frustration at the futile ramblings of her mind, and threw back the bed covers. Rising, she dressed quickly in her own clothing, which had been cleaned and returned to her smelling faintly of her favorite lavender scent. Was it her imagination, or did the cloth of her tunic seem softer as it glided against her skin?
With precise movements, she buckled on her sword, then after only a brief hesitation, grabbed her quiver and bow. Pushing away all thought, she concentrated solely on her immediate goal- finding the practice field and releasing some of the nervous energy coursing through her veins.
Closing the door behind her with a soft click, she debated for a moment, before choosing a direction and setting off. The night sky still showed no sign of daylight, and she had not the patience to delay until Haldir should come for her.
Following a twisting path, she breathed deeply of the sweet air and wondered if getting lost might not be just the distraction she needed, when she nearly ran face-first into an elf. Strong hands gripped her shoulders to prevent the collision, and she looked up, but could not make out the features of the one who held her in the dark, beyond the impression of male strength.
"I beg pardon! I did not see you in my distraction. Pray forgive me for my clumsiness."
A low chuckle greeted her ears before she found herself pulled into an open courtyard lit by lanterns.
"Rúmil," she exclaimed in delight, finally recognizing him. He pulled her into a quick hug before releasing her to look into her eyes, then embraced her again. She laughed and pushed him away.
"Such affection, Rúmil! I might almost think you had missed me these past days."
He planted a loud kiss on her forehead, then favored her with a slightly naughty grin. "I have indeed missed you, Ahrhî. The memory of your song has haunted my nights."
She winced in sympathy. "That I can believe, and you have my profound apologies. Shall I vow never to sing again, even should I drink more wine than is prudent, as a way of making amends?"
Rúmil laughed heartily before shaking his head. "Nay. I would have you make no such vow. I would not willingly miss hearing another drunken song from your lips, lovely maiden."
She blushed and looked away, strangely flustered and uncomfortable at his false flattery. "Rubbish," she muttered in annoyance.
He gripped her chin and turned her head to meet his curiously amused gaze. "You truly cannot accept a compliment, can you?"
She stepped back from him, discomfited by the over familiarity of his touch. Ignoring his question, she posed one of her own. "I was seeking the practice grounds. Would you be so kind as to direct me?"
He smiled congenially and bowed, then swept his arm to the side. "This way, Ahrhî."
She walked beside him eagerly, but did not miss the look of mischief he shot her way.
"What say you to a bit of friendly competition?"
She chewed her lip uncertainly.
"What exactly did you have in mind, Rúmil?"
As the light of dawn brightened the sky, Haldir approached the practice area, a frown on his face at not finding Ahrhî in the guest talan, when he spotted Lord Celeborn standing next to a tall hedge. He was wearing his sword at his waist, and his expression was clearly amused by what he was observing. Already aware of the presence of the other elf, he turned slightly to beckon silently for Haldir to join him. Curious, he came to stand next to his lord to see what had captured his attention.
Rúmil and Ahrhî were taking turns shooting their arrows at a distant target. From their demeanor, it appeared to be a test of skill, but Rúmil looked tense. Perhaps even frustrated? Strange. Haldir looked to Celeborn for an explanation.
"Rúmil seems to be steadily losing to young Ahrhî, but he has not yet figured out why."
Haldir's brows rose in surprise. Rúmil was one of the best archers in all Lórien. He had taught both of his younger brothers himself, and it was no small point of pride for him that his brothers skills nearly matched his own.
Celeborn chuckled quietly, easily reading the incredulity on his Marchwarden's face, but he merely returned his gaze to the two combatants.
"Just watch."
Ahrhî took her place, raised her bow and nocked her arrow, then taking careful aim, released. Her arrow struck just slightly left of dead center. Haldir smiled. Rúmil would easily hit dead center on his turn.
Ahrhî smiled sweetly at Rúmil, her expression entirely guileless, but as they switched places for him to take his turn at the target, it quickly became apparent how his brother was being beaten.
Rúmil readied his bow, carefully sighting on the target, but just as he released his arrow, Ahrhî, who was standing behind him and well out of his field of view, raised her hand surreptitiously. A sudden gust of wind blew across the field, changing the course of the arrow mid-flight. When it landed, it was far to the right of center, on the edge of the target.
Haldir was indignant at this trickery, but Celeborn's quiet laugh made him realize that his lord was closely observing him and obviously entertained by his reaction. "Never underestimate a determined female, Haldir," he said, and clapped him on the shoulder fondly. "I must be about my day, but enjoy your training." With that, he strode away, a smile still on his lips.
Returning his attention to the archery field, he found the situation much changed. Ahrhî was laughing helplessly now, clutching her middle, and Rúmil was advancing on her menacingly with a mock glare, having obviously figured out how every one of his arrows had gone astray. She threw up a hand to ward him off.
"Nay, Rúmil, you must show mercy to a weak and defenseless woman. It was just a harmless jest! We both know you are the superior bowman. Your skill is so far beyond mine, you know it was never a fair contest from the start."
But he did not stop advancing on her until he held both of her wrists in a loose but unbreakable grip.
"Defenseless? Ha! You have more wiles than any female I have ever known. Harmless it was not, lady. You made me doubt my own abilities, and for that you must pay what penalty I deem fit."
Still laughing, but obviously trying to compose herself, she bit her lip. "Very well, I will submit to your penalty if it is not too severe. What shall I do? Wash your clothing? Clean your sword? Name the menial chore, and it shall be done."
He smiled rakishly and shook his head. "I require something more agreeable. For your penance…a kiss."
He spun her around and winked at her conspiratorially before he lowered his head and barely brushed his lips just to the right of her mouth. She was so flabbergasted by this turn of events that she did not immediately understand his intent, but when she heard someone loudly clearing their throat and then saw Rúmil's triumphant grin, she began to. He turned to face his elder brother with a nonchalant expression.
"Ah, Haldir. Good morn, brother. I have just been teaching Ahrhî the consequences of cheating. I daresay she is now prepared to receive your instruction in swordplay."
Smiling broadly at Haldir's disapproving frown, Rúmil gathered his quiver and bow, then wrinkled his nose humorously at Ahrhî, which made her press her lips together and look away to hold in her laughter, before setting off whistling a bright tune.
Glancing back one final time to see Haldir glaring at a blushing Ahrhî, Rúmil felt fully recompensed for his trouble.
Ahrhî smiled uncertainly at Haldir, but his cool gaze caused the smile to slip from her face. She crossed her arms in irritation, wondering what she had done to earn his disapproval this time.
"Draw your sword," he said quietly, "and be aware that I am not so easily taken in by deceitful tactics as Rúmil."
Sighing as she fully understood the source of his censure, she sought to explain. "Haldir, it was a mere jest, there was no harm…"
He held up his hand to stop her. "Perhaps it means very little to you, but we take our bow skills very seriously here. Rúmil has worked many long years to acquire his level of proficiency- nearly equal to my own, yet you made a mockery of him. Now, draw your sword."
She continued to stare at him, stinging at his rebuke. Surely it was not as serious as he made it out to be? Rúmil had not seemed offended, merely amused by her antics. Perhaps she should seek him out and apologize. She had no wish to jeopardize her friendship with the fun-loving elf…
The sudden strike aimed at her head nearly caught her off guard, but she reflexively drew her weapon and countered. She was ever grateful for the years of sword practice that had drilled something into her very body, even if she had never excelled at it.
She blinked in a daze as she found herself on her back looking at an expanse of blue sky, cold metal at her throat. She met Haldir's icy eyes before he withdrew his blade.
"You are dead," he stated matter-of-factly. "Your weight was unevenly distributed, making you an easy target for toppling. You have ingrained bad habits, therefore I think it best we begin from the beginning. We will start with proper stance."
When she made no attempt to stand, he stalked to her and hauled her to her feet. "Come, let us begin."
When she glared mulishly, he raised a brow in impatience. "Do you wish to learn, or not?"
"No, I do not think I do. I believe I have had more than enough for the time being. Good day, Haldir."
She gathered her weapons, then quickly fled down a different path than the one she had previously taken. When she judged she was far enough away that he would not hear her, she broke into a run. She ran and ran, long and hard and far until her lungs burned and she came to the edge of a great river. Throwing off her bow and quiver, she flopped face down onto the grass and cried.
She cried for the loss of Hathor, and the loss of the future she had expected to share with him. She cried for the loss of the world of mankind she had always thought herself part of. And she wept bitterly over her desire to belong somewhere, when she now knew she never would. She was not truly an elf, she was not fully human. She was nothing. She was no one. Not for the first time, she fleetingly longed for death. For the cessation of the raw ache in her heart.
She sat up and wiped at her dirt and tear-stained face. With her left hand, she pulled her small dagger from her belt and stared at the silvery reflection in the overcast light. She drew the point of the blade down her right index finger and watched as the crimson drops welled from the wound and dripped down onto the green grass. The physical pain was a welcome change from the more profound wounds in her heart. She cut a second finger, then a third, mesmerized by the dripping red liquid that bound her spirit to her body.
A rumbling snort to her left interrupted her musing, and she glanced over to behold a black-skinned orc, his tongue darting eagerly from his mouth as he scented her blood. It came to her like a flash; a sudden, stark clarity. Her pain, the death of her loved ones, every misfortune she had ever suffered were due to these creatures and the evil that formed and guided them.
She clenched her bleeding fingers into a fist and made a promise to herself: she would not die willingly as long as there were orcs roaming Middle-earth. She would do all she could in her future life to eradicate the foul creatures into oblivion.
She stood to her feet and drew her weapon. Her blood coated the hilt of her sword, sealing her life-force to her renewed purpose. She lifted her blade to the darkening sky as evidence of her blood oath.
"Valar! Guide me and use me as a weapon against evil!"
With loud shrieks, the black orc and the four companions that followed behind him that surrounded her, rushed her as one. With furious hatred, she raised her other hand and sent the call of her gift to the heavens. Bright, white lightning forked down, jumping from one orc to the next in a sizzling heat that consumed them all where they stood.
Their charred remains fell to the earth at the same time her own body hit the ground, her exhaustion complete and her strength utterly spent.
Minutes, hours, she could not tell how much time passed as she stared at the bloody hand clutching her sword, her mind empty of all thought and body consumed by fatigue. She must have slept for a time, for she was awakened by soft voices speaking quietly next to her.
Haldir.
His eyes were filled with worry. She smiled inwardly to see it, infinitely preferring his concern to his anger and disapproval. He carefully pried her hand from her sword hilt and examined it, clenching his jaw as he glanced at her again.
So, he discerned she had injured herself. Ahrhî closed her eyes tiredly, sighing as she felt the warmth of him healing the deep cuts on her fingers. He lifted her in his arms, and it took most of her remaining strength to wrap her arms around his neck. He began walking with her, whispering to her in a fierce voice.
"When you are well again, we will talk, Naurwen. I will talk and you will listen. If I have to bind and gag you, you will heed me."
She wanted to laugh at his domineering ways, a weak smile lifting her lips, but her fatigue was stronger, pulling her back down into a deep sleep.
~o~