For the next three days, Rhyiel tried to avoid Haldir, even though he was sworn to act as her aid. And though she used quite a lot of any stored energy that she had left, desperation seemed to spur her on to elude his gaze, or his company. In the end, she kept herself locked in the room that Galadriel had given to her. Drained of all energy, she lay on her bed for hours, drifting in and out of consciousness. When a knock came at her door, she barely heard it. It seemed to be far off in the distance. There was a voice as well, but that too was far away, and was unintelligible to her. She ignored it. The knock at the door came louder now, but she did not think that she could move to save herself. The voice came at the door again. Haldir… she thought. She had locked the door, hadn't she? Apparently not. The door swung open silently as he entered the room, bearing a platter of what appeared to be food.
"My lady," he whispered to her softly, noting her apparent lack of energy. "I brought you food. I thought that you may have wanted something to eat. You haven't left your room for days…" Days..? she thought groggily. I thought only hours… She slipped away from consciousness again. A worried expression creased Haldir's brow. Her sleep was too deep, and she hadn't moved, no doubt, from her bed for days. He gently took her shoulder and shook her, although she remained asleep. He looked around the room, saw the vase of flowers sitting on a small shelf above her bed and with one sweeping movement, removed the flowers from the vase and splashed the contents of the vase over her. A feeble shriek escaped her lips as her eyes snapped open, and she shot a menacing glare at him.
"I brought food." he replied simply, to her angry but questioning look.
"I could have eaten later." came the tart reply, and she tried to sit up. She failed. Without a second thought he pushed his arms beneath her limp body, and pulled her into a sitting position before she could protest. She scowled at him huffily. He handed her a spoon, but she could not lift her arm to take it. She flushed red with embarrassment and anger. Taking the spoon again and a bowl of soup that sat on the platter, he sat beside her on the bed and lifted the spoon to her lips, and she stubbornly refused it.
"My lady, if you do not take this, I shall have to force-feed you. Your energy is shockingly depleted, and I do not think you will regain it back by sleeping." Resignedly, she slackened her jaw, and let him spoon the soup into her mouth. The idea of him force-feeding her was not something she wanted him to eventuate. Between spoonfuls, she managed to glare at him with ire.
"You are an arrogant bastard, Haldir." A guileful smile formed on his prideful features.
"Yes I am, my lady."
Rhyiel felt surprisingly better after finishing the bowl of soup. She barely minded when Haldir carried her outside to sit in fresher air, although she was expressly irritated when he sat beside her and had taken her arm, and was flexing it. She was somewhat mystified at this, for it didn't seem anything like the lavish attentions that usually had her vexed.
"What are you doing?" A great sense of puzzlement had come over her. He looked at her haughtily and spoke in a matter-of-fact tone.
"I am manipulating your muscles, my lady. They need movement so you can regain enough energy to work them again."
"I see."
"No, my lady, I do not think that you do." Rhyiel narrowed her eyes at him with resentment at his comment. How dare he say that she did not understand! How -- Her eyes widened again, and she flushed pink with embarrassment. She had said the same thing to him at the river, and he had taken it as she had, no doubt. He had taken offence and left with his wounded pride. She wished that she could just leave with her own pride, but she could not. Dammit, dammit, dammit! she growled inwardly.
"My lady," he intoned. "Can you use a bow?"
"I can, although I have developed no great skill for it. Magic is my ally, not might."
"Would you like to improve your skill with the bow? I believe that you could regain much energy if you exercised your physical talents, rather than your mental energies." Rhyiel tried not to think of the dual meaning to his comment.
"And I suppose you would teach me?"
"Of course. No one else's time is mine to offer."
"I would like to improve my skill with a bow…" she said carefully, and thoughtfully. Triumphant, he grinned wickedly at her. She sighed. As soon as she could move her arm again, she would hit him.
Indeed she did try to slap him when she regained movement in her arm. Unfortunately he caught her. Less than a week later, Rhyiel had regained sufficient movement in her limbs for her to walk around by herself. Movement she had lost almost completely in so few hours. She would not make the mistake of sleeping for three days again, she thought. Haldir had also brought her a bow, so that she could practicing stretching it. It took her another three days of practicing before she could actually stretch the bowstring properly; before that, her arms were just too weak. Soon enough though, Haldir took Rhyiel down to the archery range so she could shoot.
"Concentrate, my lady." She glanced coolly back at him, and fired her arrow, almost piercing the direct centre of the target. Haldir was surprised. He didn't think she would be so skilled, especially in her weakened state.
"Surprised?" she looked at him with an innocent look in her ancient eyes. He picked up his bow, and notched an arrow. Firing, his own arrow hit the exact centre, and nearly split Rhyiel's arrow in two. "I thought you might be." she said with an unperturbed look in her eye, as she gauged Haldir's annoyance.
"You are better than I expected."
"What did you expect?"
"You said that you had acquired no great skill for it."
"Well, I would have to have some natural talent, especially for my age."
"Excuse my asking, but what is your age?"
"That is not any of your business, but I am far older than you, and that is all you need to know." Rhyiel notched another arrow to her bow, and let it fly, splitting Haldir's arrow down its centre. A growl of malcontent escaped his lips.
"I am impressed."
"No you aren't. You are surprised, and dreadfully vexed. I however, haven't been this happy since my childhood. Beating you at your own game is satisfaction in itself."
"Well I hope you are happy."
"Should you not be glad that I haven't surpassed your own obvious skill?" He raised an eyebrow questioningly. "You must realise, I have only matched your own skill. Splitting your arrow took more effort for me, than it took you to strike dead centre. Or couldn't you see that?" She laughed at his angst-ridden expression.
"You really do enjoy aggravating my pride, don't you?"
"Only as much as you enjoy seeing my face colour."
"Yes, but you do look so enticing when your face glows with pink fervour."
"I wish that you would not say such things." She drew another arrow onto her bow and stared down to the target with great concentration. He smiled to himself as he circled around behind her, drawing his hand lightly along the line of her shoulder. Gasping sharply, she let her arrow fly, almost missing the target entirely. Haldir's hand rested on her shoulder. Tensing all the muscles in her shoulders and back, Rhyiel turned to him with rancour. As she turned, his hand did not leave her shoulder as she had thought it would; instead it turned to fit the facing curve of her shoulder. She glanced at his hand, as a silent hint for him to remove it, however, she found herself thinking what delicate and nimble hands he had, but she halted that train of thought. She knew where it would travel, and that was a place she did not wish to be. Needless to say, he did not take her hint. Instead his hand travelled to the curve of her face, and the hair that fell there, running his fine fingers through her white-gold tresses. His own ash-white locks were remarkably handsome as well she realised, and she found herself wanting to touch his hair, although her dignity strongly objected. Dignity was slowly losing this battle though, and she knew she had to escape him before she disgraced herself. Dropping her bow she turned to flee, but he caught her in his arms around her waist and pulled her smaller frame closer to his. She looked out towards the trees that had promised refuge desperately, and she scanned the empty archery range, but no help was there for her. Pulling away seemed useless; she knew that he would not let her go so easily. Although his arms seemed to rest on her stomach loosely, his grip was tighter than one would think. His face came down beside hers, and she froze as a kiss lightly brushed her temple and cheek. Blankly she stared out into the trees.
"Haldir, have you no shame?" she uttered with half-hearted contempt.
"Shame, my lady?" His voice was full of guile. "I do not believe I know the word." he whispered to her silkily.
"I must protest…" She tried to turn in his arms to glance at him, but indeed he held her firmly in his grasp. "Do not do this…"
"Why ever not, my lady?"
"Please, do not bring me down like this…" Rhyiel shuddered at the hot touch of his lips met her neck and she felt a strange pressure there. "Dear Gods, you are torturing me. Let me be!" With a sultry look in his eye, Haldir swiftly stepped away from her, leaving standing alone in the middle of the archery range.
"If you so insist, my lady…" he said, a wicked smile playing over his lips. Rhyiel felt, all of a sudden, disorientated and confused.
"You have no shame…" she cursed him under her breath. She could still feel the touch of his lips on her neck and it maddened her. She fled to the river. He did not follow.
When she reached the river, she glanced down upon her reflection. An audible groan left her lips when she saw the red mark he had given her on her neck. Branded! she thought. The mark would not leave her for many days, she knew. Her face flushed with silly, childish anger and she drew the hood of her cloak over her face. She hoped to fair Valinor that no one would see it.
* * * * * * * * * *
"My lady," he whispered to her softly, noting her apparent lack of energy. "I brought you food. I thought that you may have wanted something to eat. You haven't left your room for days…" Days..? she thought groggily. I thought only hours… She slipped away from consciousness again. A worried expression creased Haldir's brow. Her sleep was too deep, and she hadn't moved, no doubt, from her bed for days. He gently took her shoulder and shook her, although she remained asleep. He looked around the room, saw the vase of flowers sitting on a small shelf above her bed and with one sweeping movement, removed the flowers from the vase and splashed the contents of the vase over her. A feeble shriek escaped her lips as her eyes snapped open, and she shot a menacing glare at him.
"I brought food." he replied simply, to her angry but questioning look.
"I could have eaten later." came the tart reply, and she tried to sit up. She failed. Without a second thought he pushed his arms beneath her limp body, and pulled her into a sitting position before she could protest. She scowled at him huffily. He handed her a spoon, but she could not lift her arm to take it. She flushed red with embarrassment and anger. Taking the spoon again and a bowl of soup that sat on the platter, he sat beside her on the bed and lifted the spoon to her lips, and she stubbornly refused it.
"My lady, if you do not take this, I shall have to force-feed you. Your energy is shockingly depleted, and I do not think you will regain it back by sleeping." Resignedly, she slackened her jaw, and let him spoon the soup into her mouth. The idea of him force-feeding her was not something she wanted him to eventuate. Between spoonfuls, she managed to glare at him with ire.
"You are an arrogant bastard, Haldir." A guileful smile formed on his prideful features.
"Yes I am, my lady."
Rhyiel felt surprisingly better after finishing the bowl of soup. She barely minded when Haldir carried her outside to sit in fresher air, although she was expressly irritated when he sat beside her and had taken her arm, and was flexing it. She was somewhat mystified at this, for it didn't seem anything like the lavish attentions that usually had her vexed.
"What are you doing?" A great sense of puzzlement had come over her. He looked at her haughtily and spoke in a matter-of-fact tone.
"I am manipulating your muscles, my lady. They need movement so you can regain enough energy to work them again."
"I see."
"No, my lady, I do not think that you do." Rhyiel narrowed her eyes at him with resentment at his comment. How dare he say that she did not understand! How -- Her eyes widened again, and she flushed pink with embarrassment. She had said the same thing to him at the river, and he had taken it as she had, no doubt. He had taken offence and left with his wounded pride. She wished that she could just leave with her own pride, but she could not. Dammit, dammit, dammit! she growled inwardly.
"My lady," he intoned. "Can you use a bow?"
"I can, although I have developed no great skill for it. Magic is my ally, not might."
"Would you like to improve your skill with the bow? I believe that you could regain much energy if you exercised your physical talents, rather than your mental energies." Rhyiel tried not to think of the dual meaning to his comment.
"And I suppose you would teach me?"
"Of course. No one else's time is mine to offer."
"I would like to improve my skill with a bow…" she said carefully, and thoughtfully. Triumphant, he grinned wickedly at her. She sighed. As soon as she could move her arm again, she would hit him.
Indeed she did try to slap him when she regained movement in her arm. Unfortunately he caught her. Less than a week later, Rhyiel had regained sufficient movement in her limbs for her to walk around by herself. Movement she had lost almost completely in so few hours. She would not make the mistake of sleeping for three days again, she thought. Haldir had also brought her a bow, so that she could practicing stretching it. It took her another three days of practicing before she could actually stretch the bowstring properly; before that, her arms were just too weak. Soon enough though, Haldir took Rhyiel down to the archery range so she could shoot.
"Concentrate, my lady." She glanced coolly back at him, and fired her arrow, almost piercing the direct centre of the target. Haldir was surprised. He didn't think she would be so skilled, especially in her weakened state.
"Surprised?" she looked at him with an innocent look in her ancient eyes. He picked up his bow, and notched an arrow. Firing, his own arrow hit the exact centre, and nearly split Rhyiel's arrow in two. "I thought you might be." she said with an unperturbed look in her eye, as she gauged Haldir's annoyance.
"You are better than I expected."
"What did you expect?"
"You said that you had acquired no great skill for it."
"Well, I would have to have some natural talent, especially for my age."
"Excuse my asking, but what is your age?"
"That is not any of your business, but I am far older than you, and that is all you need to know." Rhyiel notched another arrow to her bow, and let it fly, splitting Haldir's arrow down its centre. A growl of malcontent escaped his lips.
"I am impressed."
"No you aren't. You are surprised, and dreadfully vexed. I however, haven't been this happy since my childhood. Beating you at your own game is satisfaction in itself."
"Well I hope you are happy."
"Should you not be glad that I haven't surpassed your own obvious skill?" He raised an eyebrow questioningly. "You must realise, I have only matched your own skill. Splitting your arrow took more effort for me, than it took you to strike dead centre. Or couldn't you see that?" She laughed at his angst-ridden expression.
"You really do enjoy aggravating my pride, don't you?"
"Only as much as you enjoy seeing my face colour."
"Yes, but you do look so enticing when your face glows with pink fervour."
"I wish that you would not say such things." She drew another arrow onto her bow and stared down to the target with great concentration. He smiled to himself as he circled around behind her, drawing his hand lightly along the line of her shoulder. Gasping sharply, she let her arrow fly, almost missing the target entirely. Haldir's hand rested on her shoulder. Tensing all the muscles in her shoulders and back, Rhyiel turned to him with rancour. As she turned, his hand did not leave her shoulder as she had thought it would; instead it turned to fit the facing curve of her shoulder. She glanced at his hand, as a silent hint for him to remove it, however, she found herself thinking what delicate and nimble hands he had, but she halted that train of thought. She knew where it would travel, and that was a place she did not wish to be. Needless to say, he did not take her hint. Instead his hand travelled to the curve of her face, and the hair that fell there, running his fine fingers through her white-gold tresses. His own ash-white locks were remarkably handsome as well she realised, and she found herself wanting to touch his hair, although her dignity strongly objected. Dignity was slowly losing this battle though, and she knew she had to escape him before she disgraced herself. Dropping her bow she turned to flee, but he caught her in his arms around her waist and pulled her smaller frame closer to his. She looked out towards the trees that had promised refuge desperately, and she scanned the empty archery range, but no help was there for her. Pulling away seemed useless; she knew that he would not let her go so easily. Although his arms seemed to rest on her stomach loosely, his grip was tighter than one would think. His face came down beside hers, and she froze as a kiss lightly brushed her temple and cheek. Blankly she stared out into the trees.
"Haldir, have you no shame?" she uttered with half-hearted contempt.
"Shame, my lady?" His voice was full of guile. "I do not believe I know the word." he whispered to her silkily.
"I must protest…" She tried to turn in his arms to glance at him, but indeed he held her firmly in his grasp. "Do not do this…"
"Why ever not, my lady?"
"Please, do not bring me down like this…" Rhyiel shuddered at the hot touch of his lips met her neck and she felt a strange pressure there. "Dear Gods, you are torturing me. Let me be!" With a sultry look in his eye, Haldir swiftly stepped away from her, leaving standing alone in the middle of the archery range.
"If you so insist, my lady…" he said, a wicked smile playing over his lips. Rhyiel felt, all of a sudden, disorientated and confused.
"You have no shame…" she cursed him under her breath. She could still feel the touch of his lips on her neck and it maddened her. She fled to the river. He did not follow.
When she reached the river, she glanced down upon her reflection. An audible groan left her lips when she saw the red mark he had given her on her neck. Branded! she thought. The mark would not leave her for many days, she knew. Her face flushed with silly, childish anger and she drew the hood of her cloak over her face. She hoped to fair Valinor that no one would see it.
* * * * * * * * * *
