~*~
Fianna and I are truly touched by the marvelous, supportive reviews of this story! We had a wonderful time writing it, and are thrilled that so many people are reading and enjoying it. Please note that there is an epilogue following this chapter. :)
~*~
Chapter 7: Decision
I wandered slowly through the grounds of the city, past the many huge mellryn tress, the glades and pathways, careful to avoid others, seeking solitude. The hours passed, and shadows gathered around me once more with the approach of evening. Drained and weary, I made my way back to my room and found food waiting, but I could not eat. I still had come to no decision.
For at least another hour I sat there in the growing darkness, memories overwhelming me, tugging my emotions to and fro. I stared at the bed where he had made such sweet, impassioned love to me, and realized just how much I loved him. But I could not forget the faces of the elves I had healed, recalling their desperate need. And there was also human pain out there in cities all over the land. People suffering, children dying. People I could save. I was young. I had years left in me to do this kind of work. In my mind, I could see the faces of the frantic parents, the wails of their sick children ripping at their hearts. I had the power to help them. Could I refuse to use it? Was it not my responsibility to use my gift as it was intended?
My heart was heavy as I contemplated this. I lit a lantern, but the light did nothing to dispel the shadows gripping me. I wished for guidance, for help in this decision, but I was alone. And might always be alone.
The thought brought on my tears, and I wept quietly, tears streaming down my cheeks as I considered a life without him in it. Why would the Valar inflict this choice on me? What was their purpose? If they had guided my steps all this time, why did they not lead me now?
For a while, I played with the idea that each step along the way had been guided. I had been led to travel to the White City. I had been led to heal Haldir. Galadriel had mentioned that I was led to heal him first among the elves. Did that have meaning? It must, for something momentous had happened, this exchange of a piece of our souls. Surely the Valar had had a hand in that! We had been guided to each other for a purpose, and whatever that purpose was, it could hardly be to break each other's hearts.
My tears came to an abrupt halt. At times I had felt that I was being swept along by currents I could not control, but each of our decisions had led us to the next one. He could have chosen not to go to Minas Tirith. He could have chosen not to let me heal him, just as I could have refused to do it. I could have refused to answer Galadriel's call to come here to Lothlórien. We stood where we were now because of all our previous choices, each linking us with the past and a future yet undetermined.
And slowly I began to see that the Valar did not expect me to be the savior of the world. I had used the gift, I had done my best, and now they were rewarding me with the opportunity to be happy again. Galadriel had told me that my emotions would serve me well if I would let them. And my emotions told me one thing. I loved Haldir. I wanted him. I needed him. And I knew he felt the same.
A serenity came over me as I sorted through my reasoning, testing its logic, my decision settling in my mind until it felt perfect, right and comfortable. I had seized upon my healing skills as a lifeline, using it while the river of my life swept me along, keeping me afloat amidst the vortex of my sorrow. The Valar had taken pity on me, increased the power of my gift as compensation for my loss, given me a purpose while I waited for Haldir to come into my life.
He was my new lifeline, my reward, an elf whose strength was loyalty, determination, and a fierce, abiding love for his people. An elf who put duty ahead of his own needs, who had fought with courage at Helm's Deep, risking his life and nearly losing it. An elf who had chosen to accept whatever choice I made even though it affected him as much as me.
Suddenly, I knew I could not let him wait another moment. This gift was not just for me, it was for him too! It was for both of us!
I rose and whirled around the room with sudden giddiness, filled with a joy I had not felt since I was a girl. I spun about, letting the pain, the grief, the shadows fly away from me, laughing at my foolishness. Dizzy at last, I stopped, my hands pressed to my face with silent gratitude. Where are you, I asked him. I closed my eyes, trying to reach out to him with my thoughts, but he was still blocking me. It mattered not, I would find him all the same.
I raced along the walkways, marveling anew at the skill of the elven artisans, caressing the carven trim with my hand as I flew by. Though he was closed to me, I knew his presence would somehow draw me to him, and it did. After no more than ten minutes, I found him with his brothers in a small alcove tucked among the curving roots of the trees. He sat slumped on a low bench made of the same wood as the tree, his back against the root, his arm braced against a knee as he loosely held an empty glass of wine. His face was bleak and weary with a kind of brittle resignation, and I instantly regretted the many hours I had made him wait.
Perhaps it was the wine, perhaps his thoughts, but he did not seem to feel my presence or see my movement toward him. His brothers did. I saw them glance at me and then at him, concern clearly showing in their ice blue eyes.
I cleared my throat. Haldir looked up, startled, and then stood rapidly, smoothing the disconcerted expression from his features. Our eyes met. His brothers left us silently, but I knew they paused some distance away, fearing he might need them.
For a few heart-stopping seconds, silence loomed between us. He stood before me, tall and broad and stoic, still trying to block me as he waited for me to speak. His gaze was aloof, and though I could not read his thoughts, I could feel the power of the raw emotion he held so firmly in check. He was not reading me at all. Was he afraid to try? Had something changed? Foolishly, I was assailed with a last moment of doubt, and instead of telling him, I asked a question.
"Do you love me?" I asked him timidly.
"Love you?" He seemed astonished, and to my wonderment, his voice shook. "Keara, of course I love you. Have I not made that clear?" He took a step forward. "I am at your feet," he whispered.
I could not help my reaction; the tears immediately began to course down my cheeks, and being a typical male, he thought them caused by sorrow.
"So I have lost you," he said woodenly. And bowed his head.
My tears ran harder, and I laughed, knowing he must think me mad. I felt his confusion, saw him flinch with uncertainty.
"You toy with me," he said with a frown. "What is your decision, Keara?" He came close and gripped my chin, raising it as he studied my tears.
"I choose you," I sobbed. "I choose you. And I am crying because I am happy, you silly elf."
I saw his quiet shock, and felt his profound, touching relief, an incredible melting away of tension that was followed by a glare. "Well, it took you long enough to decide," he said grouchily. Any response I might have made was cut off as he reached out and dragged me into his arms with savage swiftness.
He took my face between his hands and kissed me, a hard, deep, masterful kiss that told me everything I needed to know about his feelings. Then he pressed me hard against the length of his body, his hands tangled in my hair as he spoke soft words in Elvish, words I knew I would soon have to learn so I could say them back.
"Keara," he murmured against my temple, his voice taut with his need for me, "I want you right now. I want you bound to me. You know that. But I sense you have something else in mind. What is it?"
I stroked his hair, willing him to understand and agree to what I had to say. "I love you," I said, "but I cannot bind with you at once. Will you give me a week? There are some who still wait for me to tend to them. Can you wait a week?"
He exhaled a breath, his dark lashes lowered as he considered my request. "A week? Aye, but no longer than that will I wait for you. I have waited long enough already."
And he held me to that week and watched me like a hawk. He was there when I awoke, walking with me to the place where I began my day, and he was there when I finished, escorting me back to my room. Between those times, he hovered like a low hum in my mind, a presence I could almost touch while I did my healing work. At all times I could feel him, knowing he waited to see if I would need him. But now the weakness did not come, and I remained strong and healthy throughout that week.
At night he took pleasure in toying with me, sending me hot images when he knew I was alone in bed, thinking of him, wanting him. He teased me with promises of sensual delights while I lay in torment, cursing him while he laughed, but I dared not retaliate for fear of what he would send me in response. By day I healed those that remained, aware that the numbers dwindled. And I found I was not saddened that my gift would soon be taken from me. I had made peace with my decision. I had done what I could; it was my time.
But I had one more to heal.
I cannot describe that final day when I healed the last of them, the Lord of Lórien himself. Knowing it was his last chance, he came to me and asked if I could help him. Like so many others, he endured his share of the despair, but he intended to stay on in Lórien, though he offered no explanation for his choice. Galadriel, he said, meant to leave without him, and although someday he meant to join her, that time would not be soon. And so I did my best to relieve him of his pain, knowing he would most likely be one of the last elves to leave for Valinor.
I soon discovered that Haldir was not waiting to escort me to my room as on the other days. Instead, I heard his call in my mind, his silent message demanding and imperious. Come to me now, he commanded. Today you will come to my room. The week is over, Keara. I am waiting.
And I smiled at his arrogance.
I moved as in a dream, climbing stairs, traversing walkways, my pulse skittering madly as I anticipated what was to come. I was to bind myself to him. Become his wife, his mate for all of time. I knew where his room was, but I had never been there before. To go there seemed an intimacy, yet it was one he insisted upon, one that would soon be my right.
I came to his door and went in, then stopped inside, my breath caught in my throat. He lay naked in his bath, his male beauty a magnificent pale flame in the dimness of the room. His piercing gaze held me. Come, he said. Join me.
I need not relate every detail of what happened next. I remember that I washed him, sliding my hands over the slick planes of his body while his hands distracted me with a message of their own. At first I leaned over him, but he laughed and pulled me into the bath so that I sat naked upon his lap, elated and rather shy, wanting him and blushing because of it, and smiling from his teasing. He did not take me then, but drew out the experience so that by the time we climbed out we were both aroused nearly beyond the level of endurance.
We dried each other, then he pulled me close and asked me. Would I follow him to the lands of his people? Was I willing to go with him to the Undying Lands? As absurd as it now sounds, I had not thought much about this. To bind with him meant that I could go with him to Valinor, that place of wondrous beauty and everlasting peace, the place across the sea where no human could go or even find. I would follow him anywhere, I told him fervently. I would follow him to the ends of the earth, even into the very fires of Mount Doom if he wished it. My answer seemed to please him greatly.
He did not control his desires that night, but made love to me with a relentless intensity that seemed to have no limits. He pressed me to the bed, his lips everywhere, his body smooth and hard and vital. His fingers stroked me, my breasts, my nipples, my thighs, while his mouth covered mine, his tongue searching me, driving deep. He lifted his head, his lips parted and moist, looking like something from an ancient dream, beautiful beyond belief as he whispered soft words to me in Elvish. He bent his head and moved downward, licking and nibbling and kissing me, saying my name, tasting and teasing every part of me while I arched and moaned in ecstasy.
In return, I reached for him, returning his caresses, my hands gliding over every inch of him that I could reach, reveling in the strong lines of his body, the powerful curve of his muscles beneath the flawless skin. I touched him intimately, aroused by the heat and size and hardness of him, engulfed by sensations, straining toward him even as I sought to pleasure him. His hair slid along my skin as he moved to whisper in my ear. A child, he asked me. Would I want a child?
I froze, staring up at him in surprise. He leaned down and kissed me, his words echoing like a caress in my mind. It was my choice, he told me. He had the power to choose the time. Tears seeped from my eyes as I considered this. Yes, I told him. Not quite yet, but yes, yes, yes. Very soon. And I felt the warm glow of his satisfaction.
I felt the shift of his body, the solidity of him as he positioned himself against the apex of my thighs. He kissed my throat, his weight pressing me down as he entered me, his heavy penetration driving hard into my aching core. He paused, still buried deep inside me.
"Amin mela lle," he whispered. "That means 'I love you' in Sindarin. Say it, Keara. Say it to me in my language. Amin mela lle."
I said the unfamiliar words, over and over in both our tongues until I knew that he believed me.
"Now say you bind yourself to me," he murmured. "Say it. Tell me you are mine forever."
I told him all he wished to hear, and he said the same to me. And then he made a rough sound in his throat and found his rhythm, carrying me with him on its sweet, rolling waves as I moved my hips provocatively, enticing him while I pleased myself. He made a low growl of pleasure as he drove into me, again and again. Stay with me, he said. Stay with me, my love. I panted as our hunger expanded, swelling to something far greater than us, encompassing everything that was good and sacred and worthwhile. And then at last we flew together to that distant place where passion reaches its zenith and all explodes in a mindless, delicious bursting of pure and absolute bliss.
Afterward, I lay contented in his arms, lulled and cradled by waves of happiness, both mine and his. Eventually he raised himself up on one elbow, and looked down at me with a small victorious smile. He had won himself quite a prize, he told me with male complacency. I now belonged to him and he was very pleased.
I returned his look, studying the curve of his jaw, the arch of his dark brows, the piercing gray eyes, the long silvery blond hair. He should not get the idea that I was going to be subservient and submissive, I told him tartly. I was still my own person. He was not to think he could control me.
His smile broadened. He knew that, he assured me with delight. He well knew that he had bound himself to a stubborn and willful woman who was going to keep him thoroughly amused, thoroughly aroused, and very likely thoroughly exasperated for the rest of eternity. And he could think of nothing that would satisfy him more.
* * *
The days and months passed, but I did not notice for in my mind I cared not for the passing of time. I walked with him through the paths of the city, my heart full of joy, my spirit renewed. My healing powers were gone, but had been replaced with something I treasured far more. Our love for each other grew stronger with every passing day, and many times did we speak of the future, and of the children we longed to have.
All did not share in our joy in life. Galadriel drew closer to despair, and her decision to leave Middle Earth came as no surprise. When she left, Haldir and I would go with her. I had his love, but his duty and loyalty to his queen were still very strong.
So it was that in the late spring of the following year a group of us set out for the Grey Havens, our journey slow as we traveled the great distance by foot. I will never forget the sadness of Galadriel's parting with Lord Celeborn, for her love could not sway him to leave with her at that time. How long would she wait for him to follow? Time would tell.
At last we reached the harbor of Círdan the Shipwright, and saw the elven-built ship that would carry us to Valinor. We stood on the deck, watching the shores of my world grow faint, a touch of sadness whispering in my mind. Haldir stood next to me, his hair fluttering in the breeze, his cloak snapping around us like the sails above. Feeling my gaze, he reached for me, pulling me close to him as he turned me from the shore.
We sail west, he said, to lands of peace, and there I would bear our child. I looked at him in surprise. He had said he could choose the time, but I had not realized his exact meaning. Only last night we had agreed that we were both ready. He smiled, resting his hand on the flat plane of my stomach. Already the child grew in my womb, he said. I leaned against him and closed my eyes as we sailed into the sunset of the west.
[To be continued . . . don't skip the epilogue!!!]
Fianna and I are truly touched by the marvelous, supportive reviews of this story! We had a wonderful time writing it, and are thrilled that so many people are reading and enjoying it. Please note that there is an epilogue following this chapter. :)
~*~
Chapter 7: Decision
I wandered slowly through the grounds of the city, past the many huge mellryn tress, the glades and pathways, careful to avoid others, seeking solitude. The hours passed, and shadows gathered around me once more with the approach of evening. Drained and weary, I made my way back to my room and found food waiting, but I could not eat. I still had come to no decision.
For at least another hour I sat there in the growing darkness, memories overwhelming me, tugging my emotions to and fro. I stared at the bed where he had made such sweet, impassioned love to me, and realized just how much I loved him. But I could not forget the faces of the elves I had healed, recalling their desperate need. And there was also human pain out there in cities all over the land. People suffering, children dying. People I could save. I was young. I had years left in me to do this kind of work. In my mind, I could see the faces of the frantic parents, the wails of their sick children ripping at their hearts. I had the power to help them. Could I refuse to use it? Was it not my responsibility to use my gift as it was intended?
My heart was heavy as I contemplated this. I lit a lantern, but the light did nothing to dispel the shadows gripping me. I wished for guidance, for help in this decision, but I was alone. And might always be alone.
The thought brought on my tears, and I wept quietly, tears streaming down my cheeks as I considered a life without him in it. Why would the Valar inflict this choice on me? What was their purpose? If they had guided my steps all this time, why did they not lead me now?
For a while, I played with the idea that each step along the way had been guided. I had been led to travel to the White City. I had been led to heal Haldir. Galadriel had mentioned that I was led to heal him first among the elves. Did that have meaning? It must, for something momentous had happened, this exchange of a piece of our souls. Surely the Valar had had a hand in that! We had been guided to each other for a purpose, and whatever that purpose was, it could hardly be to break each other's hearts.
My tears came to an abrupt halt. At times I had felt that I was being swept along by currents I could not control, but each of our decisions had led us to the next one. He could have chosen not to go to Minas Tirith. He could have chosen not to let me heal him, just as I could have refused to do it. I could have refused to answer Galadriel's call to come here to Lothlórien. We stood where we were now because of all our previous choices, each linking us with the past and a future yet undetermined.
And slowly I began to see that the Valar did not expect me to be the savior of the world. I had used the gift, I had done my best, and now they were rewarding me with the opportunity to be happy again. Galadriel had told me that my emotions would serve me well if I would let them. And my emotions told me one thing. I loved Haldir. I wanted him. I needed him. And I knew he felt the same.
A serenity came over me as I sorted through my reasoning, testing its logic, my decision settling in my mind until it felt perfect, right and comfortable. I had seized upon my healing skills as a lifeline, using it while the river of my life swept me along, keeping me afloat amidst the vortex of my sorrow. The Valar had taken pity on me, increased the power of my gift as compensation for my loss, given me a purpose while I waited for Haldir to come into my life.
He was my new lifeline, my reward, an elf whose strength was loyalty, determination, and a fierce, abiding love for his people. An elf who put duty ahead of his own needs, who had fought with courage at Helm's Deep, risking his life and nearly losing it. An elf who had chosen to accept whatever choice I made even though it affected him as much as me.
Suddenly, I knew I could not let him wait another moment. This gift was not just for me, it was for him too! It was for both of us!
I rose and whirled around the room with sudden giddiness, filled with a joy I had not felt since I was a girl. I spun about, letting the pain, the grief, the shadows fly away from me, laughing at my foolishness. Dizzy at last, I stopped, my hands pressed to my face with silent gratitude. Where are you, I asked him. I closed my eyes, trying to reach out to him with my thoughts, but he was still blocking me. It mattered not, I would find him all the same.
I raced along the walkways, marveling anew at the skill of the elven artisans, caressing the carven trim with my hand as I flew by. Though he was closed to me, I knew his presence would somehow draw me to him, and it did. After no more than ten minutes, I found him with his brothers in a small alcove tucked among the curving roots of the trees. He sat slumped on a low bench made of the same wood as the tree, his back against the root, his arm braced against a knee as he loosely held an empty glass of wine. His face was bleak and weary with a kind of brittle resignation, and I instantly regretted the many hours I had made him wait.
Perhaps it was the wine, perhaps his thoughts, but he did not seem to feel my presence or see my movement toward him. His brothers did. I saw them glance at me and then at him, concern clearly showing in their ice blue eyes.
I cleared my throat. Haldir looked up, startled, and then stood rapidly, smoothing the disconcerted expression from his features. Our eyes met. His brothers left us silently, but I knew they paused some distance away, fearing he might need them.
For a few heart-stopping seconds, silence loomed between us. He stood before me, tall and broad and stoic, still trying to block me as he waited for me to speak. His gaze was aloof, and though I could not read his thoughts, I could feel the power of the raw emotion he held so firmly in check. He was not reading me at all. Was he afraid to try? Had something changed? Foolishly, I was assailed with a last moment of doubt, and instead of telling him, I asked a question.
"Do you love me?" I asked him timidly.
"Love you?" He seemed astonished, and to my wonderment, his voice shook. "Keara, of course I love you. Have I not made that clear?" He took a step forward. "I am at your feet," he whispered.
I could not help my reaction; the tears immediately began to course down my cheeks, and being a typical male, he thought them caused by sorrow.
"So I have lost you," he said woodenly. And bowed his head.
My tears ran harder, and I laughed, knowing he must think me mad. I felt his confusion, saw him flinch with uncertainty.
"You toy with me," he said with a frown. "What is your decision, Keara?" He came close and gripped my chin, raising it as he studied my tears.
"I choose you," I sobbed. "I choose you. And I am crying because I am happy, you silly elf."
I saw his quiet shock, and felt his profound, touching relief, an incredible melting away of tension that was followed by a glare. "Well, it took you long enough to decide," he said grouchily. Any response I might have made was cut off as he reached out and dragged me into his arms with savage swiftness.
He took my face between his hands and kissed me, a hard, deep, masterful kiss that told me everything I needed to know about his feelings. Then he pressed me hard against the length of his body, his hands tangled in my hair as he spoke soft words in Elvish, words I knew I would soon have to learn so I could say them back.
"Keara," he murmured against my temple, his voice taut with his need for me, "I want you right now. I want you bound to me. You know that. But I sense you have something else in mind. What is it?"
I stroked his hair, willing him to understand and agree to what I had to say. "I love you," I said, "but I cannot bind with you at once. Will you give me a week? There are some who still wait for me to tend to them. Can you wait a week?"
He exhaled a breath, his dark lashes lowered as he considered my request. "A week? Aye, but no longer than that will I wait for you. I have waited long enough already."
And he held me to that week and watched me like a hawk. He was there when I awoke, walking with me to the place where I began my day, and he was there when I finished, escorting me back to my room. Between those times, he hovered like a low hum in my mind, a presence I could almost touch while I did my healing work. At all times I could feel him, knowing he waited to see if I would need him. But now the weakness did not come, and I remained strong and healthy throughout that week.
At night he took pleasure in toying with me, sending me hot images when he knew I was alone in bed, thinking of him, wanting him. He teased me with promises of sensual delights while I lay in torment, cursing him while he laughed, but I dared not retaliate for fear of what he would send me in response. By day I healed those that remained, aware that the numbers dwindled. And I found I was not saddened that my gift would soon be taken from me. I had made peace with my decision. I had done what I could; it was my time.
But I had one more to heal.
I cannot describe that final day when I healed the last of them, the Lord of Lórien himself. Knowing it was his last chance, he came to me and asked if I could help him. Like so many others, he endured his share of the despair, but he intended to stay on in Lórien, though he offered no explanation for his choice. Galadriel, he said, meant to leave without him, and although someday he meant to join her, that time would not be soon. And so I did my best to relieve him of his pain, knowing he would most likely be one of the last elves to leave for Valinor.
I soon discovered that Haldir was not waiting to escort me to my room as on the other days. Instead, I heard his call in my mind, his silent message demanding and imperious. Come to me now, he commanded. Today you will come to my room. The week is over, Keara. I am waiting.
And I smiled at his arrogance.
I moved as in a dream, climbing stairs, traversing walkways, my pulse skittering madly as I anticipated what was to come. I was to bind myself to him. Become his wife, his mate for all of time. I knew where his room was, but I had never been there before. To go there seemed an intimacy, yet it was one he insisted upon, one that would soon be my right.
I came to his door and went in, then stopped inside, my breath caught in my throat. He lay naked in his bath, his male beauty a magnificent pale flame in the dimness of the room. His piercing gaze held me. Come, he said. Join me.
I need not relate every detail of what happened next. I remember that I washed him, sliding my hands over the slick planes of his body while his hands distracted me with a message of their own. At first I leaned over him, but he laughed and pulled me into the bath so that I sat naked upon his lap, elated and rather shy, wanting him and blushing because of it, and smiling from his teasing. He did not take me then, but drew out the experience so that by the time we climbed out we were both aroused nearly beyond the level of endurance.
We dried each other, then he pulled me close and asked me. Would I follow him to the lands of his people? Was I willing to go with him to the Undying Lands? As absurd as it now sounds, I had not thought much about this. To bind with him meant that I could go with him to Valinor, that place of wondrous beauty and everlasting peace, the place across the sea where no human could go or even find. I would follow him anywhere, I told him fervently. I would follow him to the ends of the earth, even into the very fires of Mount Doom if he wished it. My answer seemed to please him greatly.
He did not control his desires that night, but made love to me with a relentless intensity that seemed to have no limits. He pressed me to the bed, his lips everywhere, his body smooth and hard and vital. His fingers stroked me, my breasts, my nipples, my thighs, while his mouth covered mine, his tongue searching me, driving deep. He lifted his head, his lips parted and moist, looking like something from an ancient dream, beautiful beyond belief as he whispered soft words to me in Elvish. He bent his head and moved downward, licking and nibbling and kissing me, saying my name, tasting and teasing every part of me while I arched and moaned in ecstasy.
In return, I reached for him, returning his caresses, my hands gliding over every inch of him that I could reach, reveling in the strong lines of his body, the powerful curve of his muscles beneath the flawless skin. I touched him intimately, aroused by the heat and size and hardness of him, engulfed by sensations, straining toward him even as I sought to pleasure him. His hair slid along my skin as he moved to whisper in my ear. A child, he asked me. Would I want a child?
I froze, staring up at him in surprise. He leaned down and kissed me, his words echoing like a caress in my mind. It was my choice, he told me. He had the power to choose the time. Tears seeped from my eyes as I considered this. Yes, I told him. Not quite yet, but yes, yes, yes. Very soon. And I felt the warm glow of his satisfaction.
I felt the shift of his body, the solidity of him as he positioned himself against the apex of my thighs. He kissed my throat, his weight pressing me down as he entered me, his heavy penetration driving hard into my aching core. He paused, still buried deep inside me.
"Amin mela lle," he whispered. "That means 'I love you' in Sindarin. Say it, Keara. Say it to me in my language. Amin mela lle."
I said the unfamiliar words, over and over in both our tongues until I knew that he believed me.
"Now say you bind yourself to me," he murmured. "Say it. Tell me you are mine forever."
I told him all he wished to hear, and he said the same to me. And then he made a rough sound in his throat and found his rhythm, carrying me with him on its sweet, rolling waves as I moved my hips provocatively, enticing him while I pleased myself. He made a low growl of pleasure as he drove into me, again and again. Stay with me, he said. Stay with me, my love. I panted as our hunger expanded, swelling to something far greater than us, encompassing everything that was good and sacred and worthwhile. And then at last we flew together to that distant place where passion reaches its zenith and all explodes in a mindless, delicious bursting of pure and absolute bliss.
Afterward, I lay contented in his arms, lulled and cradled by waves of happiness, both mine and his. Eventually he raised himself up on one elbow, and looked down at me with a small victorious smile. He had won himself quite a prize, he told me with male complacency. I now belonged to him and he was very pleased.
I returned his look, studying the curve of his jaw, the arch of his dark brows, the piercing gray eyes, the long silvery blond hair. He should not get the idea that I was going to be subservient and submissive, I told him tartly. I was still my own person. He was not to think he could control me.
His smile broadened. He knew that, he assured me with delight. He well knew that he had bound himself to a stubborn and willful woman who was going to keep him thoroughly amused, thoroughly aroused, and very likely thoroughly exasperated for the rest of eternity. And he could think of nothing that would satisfy him more.
* * *
The days and months passed, but I did not notice for in my mind I cared not for the passing of time. I walked with him through the paths of the city, my heart full of joy, my spirit renewed. My healing powers were gone, but had been replaced with something I treasured far more. Our love for each other grew stronger with every passing day, and many times did we speak of the future, and of the children we longed to have.
All did not share in our joy in life. Galadriel drew closer to despair, and her decision to leave Middle Earth came as no surprise. When she left, Haldir and I would go with her. I had his love, but his duty and loyalty to his queen were still very strong.
So it was that in the late spring of the following year a group of us set out for the Grey Havens, our journey slow as we traveled the great distance by foot. I will never forget the sadness of Galadriel's parting with Lord Celeborn, for her love could not sway him to leave with her at that time. How long would she wait for him to follow? Time would tell.
At last we reached the harbor of Círdan the Shipwright, and saw the elven-built ship that would carry us to Valinor. We stood on the deck, watching the shores of my world grow faint, a touch of sadness whispering in my mind. Haldir stood next to me, his hair fluttering in the breeze, his cloak snapping around us like the sails above. Feeling my gaze, he reached for me, pulling me close to him as he turned me from the shore.
We sail west, he said, to lands of peace, and there I would bear our child. I looked at him in surprise. He had said he could choose the time, but I had not realized his exact meaning. Only last night we had agreed that we were both ready. He smiled, resting his hand on the flat plane of my stomach. Already the child grew in my womb, he said. I leaned against him and closed my eyes as we sailed into the sunset of the west.
[To be continued . . . don't skip the epilogue!!!]