{I've rewritten some scenes, which you can expect to happen often in my work. Sorry it's taken me an age to get this chapter up! Feedback, criticisms, corrections, all warmly welcome. Thanks!}
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Haldir returned to the border-woods early the following afternoon.
He first approached the sentinels to hear of any changes, relieved that the lands were undisturbed during the night. His fellow elf-guards could not discern his mood. What had he discovered of this strange, obscene woman? Was she evil? ...and what of her message?
But Haldir was dutifully secretive of his councils with Lady Galadriel and Lord Celeborn, and he said nothing. Elves could be very mysterious folk by nature, especially among their own kin. Haldir was no exception.
Rúmil scoffed at his brother's secrecy. "Come, Haldir! Shall we play a game of guessing? Is the woman a dwarf grown-over?"
Haldir grinned sidelong at his brother as they walked unnoticed through the trees. "A dwarf indeed," he said slyly.
"Alas that you will not tell your own kin," Rúmil grumbled, and sighed.
"I never tell you a thing," replied Haldir, amused. "Why might now be different?"
"Perhaps you can tell me?" countered Rúmil vaguely. Haldir looked at him with question, but the other said no more. Rúmil quirked a brow and took his leave. Haldir stared after him, confused by his brother's behavior. After a moment he remembered his feet, and sought the woman who called herself Redspear.
Indeed he had learned much from his visit with the Lady and Lord of the Golden Wood. His pride was bruised from the stranger's words to the Elves, but the Lady was quick to ease his concerns. He reflected:
"So the Redspear has arrived," said Galadriel to the approaching guard; Haldir it was, looking troubled and angered. "We had not expected her so soon."
"My Lord, my Lady," said Haldir quietly, and bowed his head. "But my Lady, the woman is crude. She may not be evil, but she has ill intentions."
"Haldir, how you worry," replied Galadriel warmly. "You do too well your duties."
"Neviâ is a friend of the Elves," said Celeborn, with a faint smile.
"A friend!" Haldir was relieved that the Lord and Lady were not alarmed, but their reasoning evaded him.
"Her story is not easily told, dear Guardian. She bears no ill will. And may talk unkindly, but her heart is pure. She is threatened by our ways. She comes with a message," said Galadriel.
"Aye. We found this," Haldir said, resentfully pulling the small roll of parchment from his belt and placing it in Celeborn's extended hand. "It is blank."
"Indeed," said Galadriel, searching Haldir with sympathetic eyes. "Thank you for coming to us before you acted unwisely. Wish no harm upon dear Neviâ, for she brings no harm here. She is only lost, even if she knows her way."
"You will bid her stay a night," said Celeborn. "We should like a meeting with her."
"Are we to allow such a stranger into our lands?" Haldir was not entirely comfortable.
"She is strange only to you, Haldir," said Galadriel, who walked before him and lay a hand on his shoulder. "Neviâ has come to warn us. It is her people--lost men of foreign woods--who wish the Galadhrim harm."
"Why, my Lady?"
"They are hopeless, leaderless, and driven to ill deeds by their jealousy of the Elves. They are not well, these people. Darkness is taking Middle-earth, Haldir, slowly. Look but a year from now, and the world may be at war."
Haldir bowed his head lowly: "My lady."
Celeborn sighed deeply and continued: "Neviâ is not like her people. She is cast out. Pity her, Haldir, if you must, but do not make a foe of those with good intention. Middle-earth is short of friends in these uncertain times. Neviâ may yet draw more friends to us, even if Elves are strange to her. It is no easy thing protecting strangers from your own people."
Haldir lay a hand over his heart. He bowed once more. "Thank you."
Then Galadriel turned quickly and whispered, "These men will not harm our lands while your kinsmen guard it, Haldir. But make no mistake... that they will try."
Haldir was unnerved by the prospect of attack on Lórien, but the Lady was right: there is no way any band of men could successfully invade. They would fall dead upon the arrows of the Golden Elves before they would even look at the waters of Nimrodel. But the Wood Elves were not a violent race; in fact, it would be considerably better to outwit a foe than to kill him. But they are extremely protective of their homes, and would fight if necessary.
And so after talking idly with his Lord and Lady of other goings-on in the land, he turned and left, feeling a great deal easier.
Presently he stood beside a mallorn, thoughtful as he traced with his eyes the sun's rays across the grasses. A part of the ancient world he was, and yet still knew so little! He adored his Lord and Lady because they were as part of the earth as the trees and sun, and they never left him in doubt. Nor would he doubt them in this, but in his heart, he thought he would not forgive this stranger-woman for her unfair words.
At last he climbed noiselessly into the 'mellyrn,' sliding in and out of its branches as easily as the breeze. He stepped onto the flet, questioning Orophin--who waited there--with narrow eyes. Orophin gestured to the ground, and so Haldir leaned over the edge and peered below.
Neviâ was rested on the leafy floor, upon her back; her eyes closed and her arms spread at her sides. She seemed at peace, so quiet that Haldir, had he not known better, may have taken her for dead. He much preferred she be silent for all ages, than ever use her cursed tongue again. Orophin seemed to read Haldir's thoughts, and he grinned and shrugged.
Haldir said nothing. It was apparent to him that his men no longer felt as he did about their new trespasser. Perhaps she displayed some kindness to them during the night? It seemed unlikely, yet they were no longer as defensive. It seemed, almost, that his men befriended her. 'A friend of the Elves,' he thought grimly: 'we shall see.'
He swung from the boughs unto the ground as easily as he came up. 'She lays with not a care in the world,' he thought. He approached the woman on the ground, standing directly over her so that his shadow blocked her from the sun's touch. Though never hearing his steps, she felt the coolness over her face, and opened a single eye to peer at him. She smiled, but it was not scornful.
"Though I have been under many arrow-tips this past night, I have never slept with such peace. Thank you," she said quietly, and despite himself her words brought him comfort.
Haldir could say nothing to that. "The Lady is waiting for you," he said plainly.
He called for his men in Elvish (for most of them knew little of the common speech) and bade them prepare their trip to Cerin Amroth, whilst Neviâ pulled herself up from the tangle of leaves. Two of Haldir's men approached, and continued speaking with hushed voices in their language. Neviâ looked on, dusting her cloak, and smiling around at her surroundings with appreciation. Haldir watched her warily, not quite sure what he might say to this changed manner.
"We will lead you to the Lady, but it is not our custom to bring ...strangers into our land," he said slowly, noticing that she did not look at him as he spoke. Indeed, she seemed quite interested in the golden leaves that fell, taking deep breaths from the strong breeze that ran through the forest. She wore a soft smile.
He glanced to his men, who were grinning slightly at this, but Haldir's mood didn't sway.
"Do you understand me..."
"Neviâ?" she said quickly, turning to face him.
"I am aware of your name."
"And indeed you may use it," she said evenly, walking towards them. "Now, where do we go?"
Haldir bit his tongue and decided to say nothing until all was settled between the Lady and Neviâ. He motioned for his guards to stand one behind her as they travelled, and one beside her. He lead the way through the woods, never turning around but always listening.
At last the small company crossed the Silverlode; the Elves walked over the water easily upon a single rope that was tied from one tree to another on the East. And then they fashioned two ropes as a bridge for Neviâ, who was not Elf-kind and presumably could not cross on one rope. But she braced carefully and walked the single line as her Elvish companions did. She lay a hand once on the other rope for balance, and that was to let herself down.
Haldir wondered at this. She seemed rough, crude, hardly blessed with grace. The Elves exchanged strange, half-amused looks and coiled the rope and moved forth. No one said a thing, but it was safe to believe that Neviâ the Redspear indeed had dealings with Elves before. Why should she dishonor them?
Haldir was strung with doubt. After a while, he stopped.
"This is where we blindfold you. It is the Naith of Lórien, no stranger is allowed to see its secrets." He observed changes in Neviâ's face; she seemed alarmed, but said nothing and answered with an agreeable nod.
Haldir motioned to his guard, who pulled a cloth from his cloak and handed it to him. Haldir walked cautiously toward Neviâ, who was watching him intently. He thought he might say something then, but words escaped him. He bound the cloth around her eyes firmly, her hair gathering around it in the winds, brushing his slender hand as he worked a knot.
The touch of her hair was delicate, and gave him an odd feeling of things.
So his men filed together and he was their leader; the guard at Neviâ's side guided her with easy pushes in any direction the path took. And in this fashion they walked through the woodland.
Nearly arrived at the seat of the Lord and Lady, Haldir stooped sudddenly to remove a fallen branch from the way of the path, and his men did not acknowledge his movements straight away, obviously intending for some innocent mischief to ensue. (The humor and merriment of the Elves must never be forgotten when one is at their mercy--an infamous thing their sweet myths and tales don't quite mention.)
Thus poor Neviâ, in utter darkness, tumbled into his hunched back.
She yelped and soared to the ground, though Haldir was swift in his senses and turned, just preventing her fall. One on top of the other, they hit the soft ground. It caused none harm, and his men were overcome with laughter.
Haldir himself could not keep from smiling. Neviâ was eased by the cheerful ring of their voices, but her eyes were still bound as she grasped the air blindly. Haldir tossed his head and chuckled, for Neviâ lay in such a way that her body was over his--becoming his warmth, as his back was laid to the ground.
"Such a coil!" she chortled. "Might I remove my blindfold? Have we come near the Lady yet? I can not see!"
His men were nearly in tears.
At last Haldir motioned for the wardens to help. One removed Neviâ's blindfold, and Haldir was startled by the color of her eyes and flush in her cheeks. Perhaps it was because they were so close now; Neviâ was a breath away, and her face was all that he could see. She was outlined by the tree-heights and their shuddering yellow-green leaves. She seemed to share his wonderment, her eyes following the formation of his face, settling on his dark eyes for some answer he could not give.
Then she grinned broadly, and said with her thick accent, "I thank you Guardian, for -this- ground is not as cold as the other," and she gave his side a gentle squeeze.
Then the other guard collected and lifted her easily, and gripped Haldir's hand to pull him to his feet.
"The lady may walk a line of rope no wider than her finger--and fall over a grown elf!" joked one of the guards.
"Indeed!" cracked the other. "Tis a strange business, my lady. Very strange."
Neviâ grinned at them. "Aye. I am no Elf. But on the rope, I could see my next step."
The guards looked at each other as if judging what she had said, then they both nodded their heads to her. "My lady," they said with sharp grins.
Haldir suddenly found it hard to smile, and could only watch Neviâ with wonder. She had displayed such friendliness to him, where many would have been mortified. He presently thought no more of it, and lead them all to a nearby slope in the hills.
"We have come to Cerin Amroth. I will lead you to the Lady," said Haldir. He did not directly look at the woman, but felt her awe for the scene before them. A flourish of greenery, such beauty as can only be seen in the ancient lands. A mysticism that filled even he, who had been there countless times. A closeness of all that is pure and cherished.
"I will soon meet the Lady of Light," Neviâ said in a hushed voice, in a tone that suggested she did not believe herself.
Once again words eluded Haldir.
He and his men continued walking, Neviâ between them and silent.
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Haldir returned to the border-woods early the following afternoon.
He first approached the sentinels to hear of any changes, relieved that the lands were undisturbed during the night. His fellow elf-guards could not discern his mood. What had he discovered of this strange, obscene woman? Was she evil? ...and what of her message?
But Haldir was dutifully secretive of his councils with Lady Galadriel and Lord Celeborn, and he said nothing. Elves could be very mysterious folk by nature, especially among their own kin. Haldir was no exception.
Rúmil scoffed at his brother's secrecy. "Come, Haldir! Shall we play a game of guessing? Is the woman a dwarf grown-over?"
Haldir grinned sidelong at his brother as they walked unnoticed through the trees. "A dwarf indeed," he said slyly.
"Alas that you will not tell your own kin," Rúmil grumbled, and sighed.
"I never tell you a thing," replied Haldir, amused. "Why might now be different?"
"Perhaps you can tell me?" countered Rúmil vaguely. Haldir looked at him with question, but the other said no more. Rúmil quirked a brow and took his leave. Haldir stared after him, confused by his brother's behavior. After a moment he remembered his feet, and sought the woman who called herself Redspear.
Indeed he had learned much from his visit with the Lady and Lord of the Golden Wood. His pride was bruised from the stranger's words to the Elves, but the Lady was quick to ease his concerns. He reflected:
"So the Redspear has arrived," said Galadriel to the approaching guard; Haldir it was, looking troubled and angered. "We had not expected her so soon."
"My Lord, my Lady," said Haldir quietly, and bowed his head. "But my Lady, the woman is crude. She may not be evil, but she has ill intentions."
"Haldir, how you worry," replied Galadriel warmly. "You do too well your duties."
"Neviâ is a friend of the Elves," said Celeborn, with a faint smile.
"A friend!" Haldir was relieved that the Lord and Lady were not alarmed, but their reasoning evaded him.
"Her story is not easily told, dear Guardian. She bears no ill will. And may talk unkindly, but her heart is pure. She is threatened by our ways. She comes with a message," said Galadriel.
"Aye. We found this," Haldir said, resentfully pulling the small roll of parchment from his belt and placing it in Celeborn's extended hand. "It is blank."
"Indeed," said Galadriel, searching Haldir with sympathetic eyes. "Thank you for coming to us before you acted unwisely. Wish no harm upon dear Neviâ, for she brings no harm here. She is only lost, even if she knows her way."
"You will bid her stay a night," said Celeborn. "We should like a meeting with her."
"Are we to allow such a stranger into our lands?" Haldir was not entirely comfortable.
"She is strange only to you, Haldir," said Galadriel, who walked before him and lay a hand on his shoulder. "Neviâ has come to warn us. It is her people--lost men of foreign woods--who wish the Galadhrim harm."
"Why, my Lady?"
"They are hopeless, leaderless, and driven to ill deeds by their jealousy of the Elves. They are not well, these people. Darkness is taking Middle-earth, Haldir, slowly. Look but a year from now, and the world may be at war."
Haldir bowed his head lowly: "My lady."
Celeborn sighed deeply and continued: "Neviâ is not like her people. She is cast out. Pity her, Haldir, if you must, but do not make a foe of those with good intention. Middle-earth is short of friends in these uncertain times. Neviâ may yet draw more friends to us, even if Elves are strange to her. It is no easy thing protecting strangers from your own people."
Haldir lay a hand over his heart. He bowed once more. "Thank you."
Then Galadriel turned quickly and whispered, "These men will not harm our lands while your kinsmen guard it, Haldir. But make no mistake... that they will try."
Haldir was unnerved by the prospect of attack on Lórien, but the Lady was right: there is no way any band of men could successfully invade. They would fall dead upon the arrows of the Golden Elves before they would even look at the waters of Nimrodel. But the Wood Elves were not a violent race; in fact, it would be considerably better to outwit a foe than to kill him. But they are extremely protective of their homes, and would fight if necessary.
And so after talking idly with his Lord and Lady of other goings-on in the land, he turned and left, feeling a great deal easier.
Presently he stood beside a mallorn, thoughtful as he traced with his eyes the sun's rays across the grasses. A part of the ancient world he was, and yet still knew so little! He adored his Lord and Lady because they were as part of the earth as the trees and sun, and they never left him in doubt. Nor would he doubt them in this, but in his heart, he thought he would not forgive this stranger-woman for her unfair words.
At last he climbed noiselessly into the 'mellyrn,' sliding in and out of its branches as easily as the breeze. He stepped onto the flet, questioning Orophin--who waited there--with narrow eyes. Orophin gestured to the ground, and so Haldir leaned over the edge and peered below.
Neviâ was rested on the leafy floor, upon her back; her eyes closed and her arms spread at her sides. She seemed at peace, so quiet that Haldir, had he not known better, may have taken her for dead. He much preferred she be silent for all ages, than ever use her cursed tongue again. Orophin seemed to read Haldir's thoughts, and he grinned and shrugged.
Haldir said nothing. It was apparent to him that his men no longer felt as he did about their new trespasser. Perhaps she displayed some kindness to them during the night? It seemed unlikely, yet they were no longer as defensive. It seemed, almost, that his men befriended her. 'A friend of the Elves,' he thought grimly: 'we shall see.'
He swung from the boughs unto the ground as easily as he came up. 'She lays with not a care in the world,' he thought. He approached the woman on the ground, standing directly over her so that his shadow blocked her from the sun's touch. Though never hearing his steps, she felt the coolness over her face, and opened a single eye to peer at him. She smiled, but it was not scornful.
"Though I have been under many arrow-tips this past night, I have never slept with such peace. Thank you," she said quietly, and despite himself her words brought him comfort.
Haldir could say nothing to that. "The Lady is waiting for you," he said plainly.
He called for his men in Elvish (for most of them knew little of the common speech) and bade them prepare their trip to Cerin Amroth, whilst Neviâ pulled herself up from the tangle of leaves. Two of Haldir's men approached, and continued speaking with hushed voices in their language. Neviâ looked on, dusting her cloak, and smiling around at her surroundings with appreciation. Haldir watched her warily, not quite sure what he might say to this changed manner.
"We will lead you to the Lady, but it is not our custom to bring ...strangers into our land," he said slowly, noticing that she did not look at him as he spoke. Indeed, she seemed quite interested in the golden leaves that fell, taking deep breaths from the strong breeze that ran through the forest. She wore a soft smile.
He glanced to his men, who were grinning slightly at this, but Haldir's mood didn't sway.
"Do you understand me..."
"Neviâ?" she said quickly, turning to face him.
"I am aware of your name."
"And indeed you may use it," she said evenly, walking towards them. "Now, where do we go?"
Haldir bit his tongue and decided to say nothing until all was settled between the Lady and Neviâ. He motioned for his guards to stand one behind her as they travelled, and one beside her. He lead the way through the woods, never turning around but always listening.
At last the small company crossed the Silverlode; the Elves walked over the water easily upon a single rope that was tied from one tree to another on the East. And then they fashioned two ropes as a bridge for Neviâ, who was not Elf-kind and presumably could not cross on one rope. But she braced carefully and walked the single line as her Elvish companions did. She lay a hand once on the other rope for balance, and that was to let herself down.
Haldir wondered at this. She seemed rough, crude, hardly blessed with grace. The Elves exchanged strange, half-amused looks and coiled the rope and moved forth. No one said a thing, but it was safe to believe that Neviâ the Redspear indeed had dealings with Elves before. Why should she dishonor them?
Haldir was strung with doubt. After a while, he stopped.
"This is where we blindfold you. It is the Naith of Lórien, no stranger is allowed to see its secrets." He observed changes in Neviâ's face; she seemed alarmed, but said nothing and answered with an agreeable nod.
Haldir motioned to his guard, who pulled a cloth from his cloak and handed it to him. Haldir walked cautiously toward Neviâ, who was watching him intently. He thought he might say something then, but words escaped him. He bound the cloth around her eyes firmly, her hair gathering around it in the winds, brushing his slender hand as he worked a knot.
The touch of her hair was delicate, and gave him an odd feeling of things.
So his men filed together and he was their leader; the guard at Neviâ's side guided her with easy pushes in any direction the path took. And in this fashion they walked through the woodland.
Nearly arrived at the seat of the Lord and Lady, Haldir stooped sudddenly to remove a fallen branch from the way of the path, and his men did not acknowledge his movements straight away, obviously intending for some innocent mischief to ensue. (The humor and merriment of the Elves must never be forgotten when one is at their mercy--an infamous thing their sweet myths and tales don't quite mention.)
Thus poor Neviâ, in utter darkness, tumbled into his hunched back.
She yelped and soared to the ground, though Haldir was swift in his senses and turned, just preventing her fall. One on top of the other, they hit the soft ground. It caused none harm, and his men were overcome with laughter.
Haldir himself could not keep from smiling. Neviâ was eased by the cheerful ring of their voices, but her eyes were still bound as she grasped the air blindly. Haldir tossed his head and chuckled, for Neviâ lay in such a way that her body was over his--becoming his warmth, as his back was laid to the ground.
"Such a coil!" she chortled. "Might I remove my blindfold? Have we come near the Lady yet? I can not see!"
His men were nearly in tears.
At last Haldir motioned for the wardens to help. One removed Neviâ's blindfold, and Haldir was startled by the color of her eyes and flush in her cheeks. Perhaps it was because they were so close now; Neviâ was a breath away, and her face was all that he could see. She was outlined by the tree-heights and their shuddering yellow-green leaves. She seemed to share his wonderment, her eyes following the formation of his face, settling on his dark eyes for some answer he could not give.
Then she grinned broadly, and said with her thick accent, "I thank you Guardian, for -this- ground is not as cold as the other," and she gave his side a gentle squeeze.
Then the other guard collected and lifted her easily, and gripped Haldir's hand to pull him to his feet.
"The lady may walk a line of rope no wider than her finger--and fall over a grown elf!" joked one of the guards.
"Indeed!" cracked the other. "Tis a strange business, my lady. Very strange."
Neviâ grinned at them. "Aye. I am no Elf. But on the rope, I could see my next step."
The guards looked at each other as if judging what she had said, then they both nodded their heads to her. "My lady," they said with sharp grins.
Haldir suddenly found it hard to smile, and could only watch Neviâ with wonder. She had displayed such friendliness to him, where many would have been mortified. He presently thought no more of it, and lead them all to a nearby slope in the hills.
"We have come to Cerin Amroth. I will lead you to the Lady," said Haldir. He did not directly look at the woman, but felt her awe for the scene before them. A flourish of greenery, such beauty as can only be seen in the ancient lands. A mysticism that filled even he, who had been there countless times. A closeness of all that is pure and cherished.
"I will soon meet the Lady of Light," Neviâ said in a hushed voice, in a tone that suggested she did not believe herself.
Once again words eluded Haldir.
He and his men continued walking, Neviâ between them and silent.