First Night on the Road

[Tindomiel: sorry that this chapter came out so late, I was ill before I had a chance to complete it. I'll try and publish a new chapter per week, more or less. Depends on my ever-dying muses,]

...I sneaked a look at Arwen's own group of followers while we were travelling. Riding behind her were her handmaidens, Nariel, and Marien. I felt my grip loosen on the pole, and it nearly slipped. Lamalas saw me look at her and tapped me on the arm.

"Why do you like her so much? What you are feeling is not love; you don't even know her that well. Why are you so obsessed with her?"

"Do you really want to know?"

He nodded.

I took a breath and lowered my eyes onto the ground.

"On my first day in Rivendell, I had no friends or acquaintances here at all, except Glindir. And on my first day, I was unfortunate enough to be viciously mauled by Arwen."

"How awful. What for?"

"Don't ask."

"Oh, very well. Please, continue."

"I lay there on the sunny patio, alone, unable to go anywhere. Arwen had left me alone and helpless, and (seriously) injured. Then I saw a maiden walk past, she saw me and helped me recover. I found out later her name was Marien, the younger daughter of Erestor. I loved her from the moment I saw her. She brought me an apple to eat and acknowledged Elrond of what had happened. He added the cost of treating my bruises to my medical bill."

"I see. That all?"

"Yep, that's pretty much it."

"Hmm. You're in debt to Elrond?"

"Uh...I suppose I am."

"Ah. I wouldn't like to be in your shoes."

~~~

It was the first night on the road. The stars were out, and we'd set up a sort of campsite in the middle of a field. I lay on my makeshift bed, skilfully created with blankets and surplus robes. We did not really need sleep, but we had covered many miles in only a single day, and we needed some rest. Though this would be short stop, there was much to be done, like eating. Tomorrow, we were meeting up with Galadriel's own company, who were heading the same way as we.

Ah, crap. Galadriel. I don't know how I'm going to tell her that the shiny armour she gave me was currently rusting, broken to pieces, in one of Elrond's abandoned wine cellars. I threw it there myself.

I unwrapped my secretly hidden stash of Lembas and nibbled on a corner of a single wafer, savouring its sweetness. I looked round to make sure no one was watching me. There was not enough food to go all round the company, and the inequality was sure to make people irritated.

Elrond, Arwen and his private company, of course, were having a nice 4- course meal in their private tent. We were told to stay away so as not to disturb their night. I wondered if Marien was in there as well.

I sprawled down on my bed, and took out a sheet of paper and a pen. (TINDOMIEL: don't ask me how he got a pen.)

Without thinking, I scribbled a few lines of poetry. Love poems. I was in deep concentration on what rhymed with 'purple' when Glindir approached me and tapped me on the back. I winced, because my former scars were still apparent, sometimes they did hurt.

"Whatcha doin'?" he said, bending down to me, in his own annoying way.

I kept my eyes down and tried to ignore him.

"Writing." I said.

"Writing what?"

"Poetry."

"To whom, may I ask?"

I paused and looked down on what I'd just written. It was a love poem to Marien.

Glindir saw it and groaned.

"By the Gods, Haldir! You're obsessed with her!"

"Am not"

"Are too! See! You're writing poetry about her!"

"So what?"

"And you're currently doing a doodle picture on her."

I looked down on my paper and realised he was right. I had just drawn two stick figures, separated in between by a giant love heart. The one on the left had abnormal good looks, me. The other had long luscious flowing hair and an overlarge bosom. Ah..Marien.

Glindir groaned again.

"Look," he said, sitting down on the grass next to me, "if you really love her, TELL HER. If you want her to know how much you adore her, you must TELL HER. If you want her to love you back, if you want this love to go anywhere, TALK TO HER. "

I thought about it for a while. Every word he said was right. He was right. Stupid Glindir.

"You're right." I said finally, which put a big grin on his face. "I will. I'm going to talk to her."

It seemed for a moment that angels started singing hallelujah, but then I realised just what I was saying. I could never find the courage to talk to her. It was folly.

But it was too late.

Glindir pointed to a cluster of tents in the distance.

"Look. See that crimson one? That's Elrond's private tent. Arwen's is nearby. That's the VIP group over there; Erestor's must be close. Erestor's is that green one. So his daughters must be beside him. Now is your chance, they're all preparing for bed, so she'll be alone, and this is the perfect opportunity for you to tell her how you feel."

Easier said than done, Glindir.

But it was too late.

He pushed me in the direction of my fate and I had no choice but to walk.

*

I approached Marien Telemnar's own green tent and took a breath. This was it. I might as well; I'd come this far. I couldn't well knock, so I parted the opening of the tent, and peered inside to see if she was there.

Inside were the normal things, a bed like mine, a folding table and chair, a few rugs and clothes scattered about, and a folding paper screen.

And behind it, she was undressing.

I gasped, which went painfully to my throat. She slipped off her loose robes and under-things, until I could almost see the silhouette of her bare form shadowed against the screen. Then, dipping a towel in a basin of water propped on a stand, she wiped her face and neck while I stared, mesmerised and unable to move.

I seemed to have stood there for an eternity, gaping at the one I loved.

But she sensed something there. And she suddenly called to the night, to me:

"Who's there?"

And I lost my senses and ran.

I turned, for I really did not want to answer about what I was doing there. I turned on my heel and headed full speed back to my own camp.

Only to crash into Marien's sister, Nariel.

She stared at me with scrutiny as I straightened myself and tried to reflect her stares.

"Did you just come out of my sister's tent?" she said, her fiery eyes burning my guilt and scorching my conscience.

"I, ah, um. Well, you see...ah, it.was..a.misunderstanding."

"Yes or no."

".yes.."

"Why were you in there?"

Oh Eru.

"ah. Er..fh.she, ah, I wanted to ... see her. I wanted to see her..she, she was just ah..naked." I tried to say but it came out an unintelligible burble.

"You wanted to see my sister naked?" she said, an eyebrow raised.

"Ah, what? No, no, no, that's not...what, ah, I meant, I uh,"

But I should have known excuses were futile. They always are:

It was only a matter of seconds before her fist connected with my face.

*

I returned to my own camp, grim and defeated, sporting my newly acquired bruise on the eye.

Glindir was currently lying on my bed, reading my poems and eating my pack of lembas. He took one look at me and tutted annoyingly.

"If that's the way you write poetry, I'm not surprised that all you ever receive from women are bruises."