Part 9 – Visions
Haldir had purposely left Amarië before she'd awakened, thinking that the last person she would want to see when she opened her eyes would be him. Still, it had been hard to leave; he had enjoyed watching her sleep. In repose, her face took on a serenity that captivated him, and this had somehow eased its way into his mind, enabling him to find his own measure of peace. When at first he had tucked her between the sheets, he had still been gripped by rage—rage at the mortal as well as rage at himself for all the mistakes he had made of late. So close had he come to killing the mortal, so close to losing his much reputed self-control. And all because of this Elf-woman whose presence had altered his entire view of his life and of himself.
How could this happen? And what was he going to do about it?
Avoiding her was no solution. After what happened last night, he realized there was some sort of connection between them, but he had no notion why or what it meant. All he knew was that he felt the urgent need to talk to her, to try to mend this unhappy state of affairs that existed between them. Since it seemed she would be living in Caras Galadhon, he wondered if it might be possible for a friendship to form between them. A closer relationship might be more than he could hope for, but if she could forgive him for the things he'd said, perhaps he might occasionally be given the gift of her smile. His life was hard and so was he, but he still valued softness and laughter when they came to him. Sometimes he even yearned for them, as though some part of him was incomplete.
All morning he had worked with the mortals and his spirit was weary of it. However, it had turned out that Amarië was right about them. Although their abilities varied, for the most part, they had come farther than he would have believed possible in the short amount of time they had been here. Another two or three weeks could very well make the difference she'd predicted. Perhaps the race of men was not so hopeless after all. As for Rufus, Haldir had made certain that all the Elves knew to watch him carefully and continuously. He still could not bear to look at the man, so he had others work with him.
At the moment, the humans were resting and eating, which gave him a respite from their company. He walked over to Ferodir, who sat lounging on a bench, a bottle of wine next to him, a glass in his hand. It was so typical that, despite his mood, Haldir almost smiled. "Have you seen Amarië today?" he asked in a casual voice.
Ferodir lifted his brows. "Only for a moment. I think Lornarië took her in hand for a while. She tried to cheer her up by taking her to visit some friends. I don't know how successful she was."
Haldir sat down and looked at the grass. "She had a bad experience."
"I know. I would have killed the man, but I understand why you didn't."
"Do you?" Haldir glanced at the other Elf. "I'm not sure I know, so how can you?"
Ferodir turned and looked him in the eye. "Because you are the Guardian of Lórien and do not take such actions on a whim, however personal that whim might be. You have integrity and moral principles as well as great wisdom and loyalty. The mortal did not deserve mercy, but you gave it to him anyway." Ferodir was silent for a few moments as he poured himself some more wine. Then he added, quite carefully, "The Valar look kindly upon you, you know."
Haldir gave a short laugh. "No, I don't know, and how could you? In any case, I am not as virtuous as you seem to think. I wanted to kill him and nearly did."
"Oh, I didn't say you were completely virtuous." Ferodir smiled and sipped his drink. "You have your faults. But don't assume because I am young and frivolous that I know nothing. Being an empath is not easy, but there are occasional compensations."
"Such as?" Haldir shot him a curious look.
"Such as being given information."
Haldir studied him, but could see that the other Elf did not intend to explain.
Ferodir said quietly. "I suggest you go and talk to her."
"I know not where she is."
"You knew last night. Perhaps you should do what you did then."
"You make it sound so easy," Haldir answered, rather moodily. "I do not understand what happened. I only followed what I felt."
Ferodir lifted a brow. "Then do so again."
Haldir was silent, considering this. He was still at a loss regarding the events that had occurred. How had he known she was in danger? How had he known where to go? Never in his life had such a thing happened to him, despite his finely honed instincts, which had saved his life on several occasions. This was altogether different.
Gathering his resolve, he rose to his feet, and glanced down at Ferodir. "Don't drink all that wine. I intend to challenge you when I return, and I don't want it to be too easy."
"Not again!" Ferodir complained. "Why do you not simply admit that I am better than you?"
Haldir smiled. "Because you aren't."
xxx
Reaching the stairs to the city, Haldir set one booted foot upon the first step and stopped. Where would he find her? Could he really feel her? It seemed ridiculous, but what could it hurt to try?
Ignoring the curious guards, he closed his eyes and thought about her, allowed the image of her face to form in his mind. Amarië, where are you?
To his amazement, he felt it at once, the inexorable pull, and it led away, in the opposite direction, out into the forest. Dare he trust this? Would she have gone out there, especially after what had happened last night?
He glanced at the guards, but decided not to ask them if they had seen her. Instead, he elected to give himself over to this feeling. He turned and headed away from Caras Galadhon, heading out into the surrounding woods where mellyrn trees mixed with other types of foliage, and the soft scents of autumn filled the air.
Ten minutes of walking brought him to a glade that at first glance appeared empty. Then he saw her, sitting on a tree branch just above his head. Out of habit and intent, he had made no sound, so she did not yet know he was here. Her eyes were closed as though in a deep reverie, her face relaxed as though she dreamed. Her slim ankles dangled just above his head, and he looked at them, appreciating their beauty even while he puzzled over the mystery of how he had found her so easily.
Briefly, he debated how best to get her attention and on impulse chose a mischievous act. Bending down, he plucked a nearby flower, then brushed the pale petals against her bare ankle. Her foot jerked and her eyes flew open.
"Oh! Haldir!" she gasped, her cheeks turning a faint shade of pink. "What are you doing here?"
"I came to find you," he said calmly. "I thought we should talk."
She looked down at him, and he could see the play of emotion in her face—reluctance and hesitation and perhaps a trace of longing? Or did he just imagine that?
"I know I should thank you for . . . for last night . . . " she began awkwardly.
"There is no need." He held up a hand before he realized that he still held the flower, and felt a little silly. "Will you come down?"
She slid gracefully to the ground without his help, then turned to face him. "How did you find me?"
He shook his head. "I have no explanation. I only knew you were here." Not knowing what to do with the flower in his hand, he tucked it behind her ear. "No point in wasting it," he explained, a little gruffly.
She seemed bemused by both his action and his words. "How could you know I was here? Is there some elven sense of which I know naught?"
"No sense I am familiar with. How are you feeling?"
"I am well." She turned away.
"Are you certain?" He followed her, trying to look her in the eye. "I am concerned about you." Again, she turned her face away, and he realized she was embarrassed.
In a low voice, she said, "I behaved foolishly and got what I deserved. I have long known that Rufus might attempt such an action. I should have been on my guard."
"You did not get what you deserved!" he countered, taken aback. "How can you say such a thing?"
She shook her head, covering her mouth with her hand. Her head bowed as though she could scarcely hold back tears.
"Amarië," he said softly, "look at me."
"I cannot," she whispered. "I know what you must think of me. And I have earned your contempt, I know that."
"I feel no contempt for you. If I gave you that impression, it was done in the heat of anger. I no longer feel that anger. Amarië, look at me," he insisted.
Slowly, she turned, her blue eyes shimmering with unshed tears. "Then I know what you feel for me is pity, and that is something I do not want from you, Marchwarden. Yet I am glad you are here because I have something to say to you."
He did not want to talk. All he wanted was to put his arms around her and draw her close, to feel her sweet body pressed to his, to offer her the comfort of his strength and his kisses. Instead he said, "And what is that?"
"Twice you have accused me of lying to you. I apologize if it seemed so. I can only say that my reasons seemed sound even though in your eyes they were not."
"Let us not speak of that now," he said, barely resisting the urge to reach out and smooth a stray lock of hair from her cheek. How could it be that he was so drawn to her? Never had he felt like this, not in all the long years of his life.
"Please, I must. Surely you wonder how I learned to speak your tongue. I would like to tell you if you will listen."
He nodded, his interest caught. "Very well."
"This may sound strange, but ever since I was a young child, my father has come to me in dreams. I know not how this can be so. All I can say is that he has always spoken to me in the Elvish tongue. I learned Elvish at the same time I learned the common tongue. Lord Celeborn has told me that my father is a sort of Teacher to me. Why the Valar have permitted it, I know not."
He considered her words with amazement. "I have never heard of such a thing. Yet if you say it is so then I believe you. I wish I had learned the common tongue with such ease," he added wryly.
She gave him a small smile. "Now I have told you all my secrets. How is my brother doing? Is he progressing as well as I hoped?"
The last thing Haldir wanted to speak of was her brother or the mortals, but he answered with courtesy, "You were correct about them. They do much better than I expected. Ennis has much potential. And the two wounded men are nearly well enough to start their training."
He paused, watching her, taking in the details of her features with a hunger he had never known. He wanted to touch her so badly it hurt.
"Amarië, come here," he said quietly.
She met his eyes. "Please, don't."
He took in the tiny tremble at the corners of her mouth. "Don't what, Amarië? Don't put my arms around you? It is all I have desired to do for days."
"Is that the price of my rescue?"
"Of course not!" The remark stunned him. How could she think that of him? Or was she justified? His emotions were so convoluted that he no longer knew what he felt.
"I already paid you once," she reminded him. "For me, it was a heavy price."
He heard her words, trying to unravel their meaning. "I did not mean it to be so," he told her, then realized by her next words that it was the wrong thing to say.
"I am quite aware you meant nothing by it. Hence, I must protect myself. To follow my inclinations where you are concerned is to invite danger. I fear the pain too much."
"I do not wish to cause you pain. I only wish to offer comfort."
Her expression lost some of its stiffness. "Well, perhaps you mean it kindly, but your comfort would be of no comfort to me. Quite the opposite, in fact."
He understood her meaning, but also knew she did not understand his. He was unused to uttering sentiments of this sort. He had spoken neither well nor clearly. "Amarië," he tried again, but her hand lifted to stay his speech.
"Please say no more." She took a step away from him. "I am sorry not to be able to be what you would have me be. I know how I must appear to you, but I am truly not like that. I have only ever done what I had to do to survive. Right now it is just . . . so difficult for me . . ."
Choking back a sob, she spun around and hurried away from him, heading back in the direction of the city. The urge to go after her was so strong it almost overpowered him, but he did not. He must respect her wish to be alone. He was far too old to behave in such a reckless fashion.
Thinking must come first. If only he could think clearly.
xxx
Ferodir took one look at Haldir's expression when he returned and sighed inwardly. Whatever had transpired had obviously not gone as Haldir hoped. Out of habit and with very little guilt, Ferodir gathered all his resources and tried to reach into his friend's mind. He did not expect success, for the Guardian of Lórien had long ago perfected the art of keeping him out, even if he did not consciously realize he was doing it.
However, this time the result was stunningly dissimilar to his former attempts. All of Haldir's most elemental emotions rushed into Ferodir's mind—loneliness, misery, confusion, pain, frustration, sexual desire—all colliding with each other in a seething morass of pure wretchedness. But this was nothing compared to the tidal wave that lay behind, a profound love and longing of such naked intensity that Ferodir nearly fell to his knees. Instinctively, he raised his inner shields to protect himself from the strength of this double onslaught.
"Shall we fight?" Haldir asked as he reached Ferodir's side.
Shaken by what he had discerned, Ferodir studied his friend's face, noting its bleakness. How long had Haldir been concealing such emotion from the world? How long could he continue to suppress it and survive? Was it only because of Amarië or had he been tormented like this for a long time? There was no way for Ferodir to know, but now he understood why the Lady was so concerned. Galadriel cared for all her people, but Ferodir knew she had a particularly warm regard for Haldir.
"I will fight you on one condition," he told the Marchwarden.
Haldir's dark brows drew together. "And what is that? That I go easy on you? I see you finished all the wine."
"I could drink three more bottles and still give you a good fight," Ferodir boasted with a grin. "But no, that is not what I was going to say."
"What then?"
"My condition is that you tell me what you plan to do regarding Amarië. I have been able to determine that there is, shall I say, a difficulty? For want of a better word."
"Difficulty?" Haldir's tone was hollow. He glanced off into the distance as though to contemplate his answer, then sighed. "I know you mean well, but speaking of this will do no good."
"How do you know unless you try?"
"Because the spoken word holds a reality that the unspoken word does not! Surely you of all people know this!"
"These feelings are already reality in your heart," Ferodir pointed out.
Haldir shot him a hard glance. "You said you could not read my thoughts."
"I cannot. But your emotions scream at me, my friend. I cannot help but hear them."
"What good would talking do? It will not change a thing. It will not change how she feels about me."
"Ah. So that is the root of the matter. You think she does not care for you?"
"I know not what she feels. But whatever it is, it causes her to weep and flee from me. That does not seem to hold much promise of affection. In fact, there is no reason why she should wish for my company. I have not been pleasant to her. And I know not how to go about wooing a reluctant female." He scowled. "Because of last night, she fears I think the worst of her. She thinks I have contempt for her, which of course is untrue."
Ferodir wanted to groan aloud, but resisted for fear of giving offense. "But surely she is grateful for your timely rescue?"
"Grateful, yes. That is different. It is not her gratitude I want."
"No," Ferodir agreed thoughtfully. "I see your point. Perhaps you should just walk into her room and kiss her. Sweep her off her feet with your charm, so to speak."
Haldir uttered a harsh laugh. "That is just what I should not do. I believe she has been ill-treated by human males. To force myself on her would be wrong. It might be the way a human would behave, but not an Elf. She does not yet understand that we Elves hold ourselves to a higher standard. I would have her learn this through me, not despite of me."
Although Ferodir followed this logic, he could not agree that his suggestion was so far off the mark. He had reason to believe that Amarië would not find Haldir's kisses distasteful. "Did you tell her any of this?" he inquired.
"I did. At least some of it. I cannot say how much she heard."
"Well, she is very young. Still, as a half-Elf, do not forget that she can choose immortality. You could have an eternity together."
A look of stark pain flickered across Haldir's face. "Or an eternity apart," he added bitterly. "I cannot think of this right now. Come, let us fight."
Ferodir drew his sword and followed Haldir onto the practice field. After they sparred, he would go to Galadriel at once. Based on what he had heard her say to Celeborn, it appeared there was some urgency in this matter. Haldir and Amarië might very well solve their own problems eventually, but at the rate they were going, it could take months or years!
And Ferodir had the uneasy feeling they did not have that much time.
xxx
Amarië thumbed through a book written in Sindarin, realizing that while she understood the Elvish language, it might be a long time before she was able to read it. The slanted, elongated writing was beautiful to look upon, and she touched it with her finger as she realized how much knowledge the Elves must have accrued over the long ages of their lives. She had borrowed the book from the Lothlórien library, thinking she might be able to decipher it if she put some effort into it, but it was clear that she would need a teacher.
A knock on the door came as a welcome distraction, and she set the book aside and went to open it. Lornarië greeted her with a smile. "Good day, Lady Amarië. The Lady bids me to invite you to attend her if you can spare the time."
Naturally Amarië did not hesitate, yet as she followed Lornarië along the walkways to wherever Galadriel awaited her, she could not help feeling nervous. Each time she met the Lady, she felt as though she were in the presence of a goddess, one who knew far too much about how Amarië thought and felt. At the same time, she sensed in Galadriel an overwhelming kindness and compassion that made Amarië feel tongue-tied and very young.
She had expected to ascend higher in the city, but instead Lornarië led her downward to a place she had not yet visited at the ground level. At once she saw Galadriel, standing motionless in a small clearing, garbed in a gown of shimmering white, her lovely lips curved in a gentle smile. Nearby, a small waterfall murmured and sparkled as it tripped over stones into a stream. Lornarië retreated, leaving Amarië alone with the Lady.
"I am pleased to see you, Amarië."
Amarië walked a few steps closer, then bowed her head and touched a hand to her brow in the respectful elven manner. "My lady."
"Come and sit." Galadriel gestured toward a stone bench a short distance away.
When they were seated, Galadriel gave her a kind look. "You look so lost, child. Would you like to talk about what happened?"
"I would rather not. I don't even want to think about it."
"What happened was not your fault. It even had a purpose."
Amarië's head jerked up. "What purpose could it have?"
Rather than answering, Galadriel replied, "How did Haldir know you were in danger? How did he know where to find you?"
"These are questions I have asked him. He said he did not know."
Galadriel's blue eyes locked with hers. "Nor does he, with his mind. But his essence knows. And so does yours."
"I know not what you mean." Amarië found she could not look away from the Lady's blue eyes, those eyes that contained so much wisdom and knowledge and power.
"Child, have you not felt a connection with Haldir?"
"A connection?"
"You know of what I speak. You have known many males in your life. None have made you feel as he does." Galadriel reached out and lifted Amarië's chin with her fingers. "I do not censure you. You have done what you had to do. I have seen it. I have seen your mother, how it was with her. What she did to you."
"H-how could you see it?" Amarië asked, her voice trembling a little.
"I have seen it in my mirror. Has no one told you of my mirror?"
Amarië shook her head.
"Would you like to look? It is your choice. I cannot counsel you one way or another."
"What will I see?"
"Even the wisest cannot say. The mirror chooses what to show depending on the viewer. It could be something from the past or present, or even something that has not yet come to pass . . . and perhaps never will."
Amarië closed her eyes, thinking of everything that had happened in the past days. "I'm afraid to look, and yet I feel compelled to do so."
"Then come." Galadriel rose.
Amarië watched Galadriel dip a silver ewer into the stream, then turn and pour the water into a shallow basin of silver set on a pedestal of stone carved with intricate designs. Galadriel breathed upon the water, then stepped back and gestured with her hand.
Amarië moved forward and stared into it. At first she saw nothing but her own reflection, then the image changed and she saw herself as a young girl. She cowered in a corner, sobbing quietly from the pain of welts upon her back. Next she saw herself practicing her archery, and following this, the fearful, desperate night she had first given herself to a man. She flushed in shame at the memory.
"Do not look away," Galadriel commanded. "Let the mirror complete its task."
Recent events followed. The flash of an Orcish blade grazing her thigh. The Lothlórien forest. Haldir's face as she placed her hand on his chest and tried to bargain with him. Haldir bending over her, healing the wound on her thigh, placing lembas near her hand. The images flashed quickly by, then slowed as she was shown the aftermath of last night's incident. She saw herself sleeping in Haldir's arms as he carried her to her room and placed her gently on her bed. She saw the way he smoothed her hair, then bent to brush his lips across her brow.
Then it changed again. She saw herself being lovingly embraced by an Elf, but this time she could not see his face. Behind them loomed something dark and huge and ugly, threatening them even while they kissed. And then, abruptly, the water turned to blood, and in that blood lay a golden cord, stretched thin and taut, its ends invisible.
Amarië whirled away, spinning around with a sharp, agonized cry.
Galadriel was silent.
"What does it mean?" Amarië's breath came in shallow gasps, her heart thudding hard.
"You saw the blood? It is a warning of what could come to pass if you fail to follow your Truth."
Amarië turned to look at Galadriel, frightened by her words.
Galadriel's face was somber. "Do you know about the eleven concept of Fëa and Hroa?"
Amarië shook her head.
"The Fëa is the spirit and the Hroa is the body. Amarië, your Fëa is bound to Haldir's Fëa. You chose each other long ago, at the very dawn of time in your first moments of creation. Your Fëar are mated for all eternity. That is the meaning of the golden cord."
Gripped with shock, Amarië stammered, "How can that be possible? Haldir has lived for millennia, and I am so young . . . and half human."
"I know not how it is possible. The mirror does not reveal all. Perhaps you have lived before. If so, you may eventually recover those memories, providing you choose to remain with us. Like my daughter's husband, Elrond of Rivendell, you can choose to become immortal because of your elven blood. Or you can choose mortality and die. Either way, your Fëa will stay bound to Haldir's. Your destinies are forever intertwined."
"But I saw blood, so much blood!" Amarië 's voice shook. "Is he going to die?"
Galadriel reached out and touched her cheek. "Amarië, the world is changing. I feel it and so does the Lord Celeborn. A great evil hovers over this land, and I fear that we Elves will be drawn into it. All I can tell you is this—if you bind your Hroa to Haldir's Hroa, you can save him. This is your Truth. What you saw in the mirror can be averted. This is what your father's lessons have been about. And since the Valar have permitted him to teach you those lessons, there must an important reason."
Dazed, Amarië shook her head, her tears very close to the surface. "Forgive me, my lady, for being slow. This is so much to take in."
"I know it is. And I cannot tell you what to do. But I can tell you this—Celeborn and I are bound in the same way. If one of us should pass to Mandos, the other would soon follow."
Amarië absorbed this, trying to understand all the implications. "And the binding of the Hroa? What does that mean?"
"It means the union of the body combined with the promise of the heart. It means marriage, Amarië. Elvish marriage. It would be for all time. You could go to Valinor together."
Amarië turned away, her body trembling. "But I'm not sure he even likes me," she whispered.
"You have already chosen each other, child. Long have you searched and waited to find each other in the flesh. Do not let a few heated words keep you apart. Such things mean nothing. At least speak with him about this. I think you will be surprised by what he says."
Amarië understood now why Haldir had known she was in danger. But he had not known the reason, which meant he did not know all of this. Who would tell him?
Galadriel smiled and answered the unspoken question. "He understands about the Fëa and the Hroa. After last night, he knows about the connection between you. As for the rest, Celeborn is talking to him right now. Meanwhile, child, I would tell you about the Pool of Renewal."
xxx
Standing upon the city's highest flet, Haldir stared off into the distance, his mind reeling with shock from the information Lord Celeborn had just given him. His Fëa bound to Amarië's Fëa? It explained so much, yet at the same time it utterly staggered him. All these long years of loneliness and searching, watching others find their life-mates, yet never finding his. Thinking himself too hard-hearted, too demanding, too particular to fall in love. And all this time, he had only been waiting for Amarië.
"Galadriel is explaining all this to Amarië," Celeborn said. "Under normal circumstances, we would not interfere, but these are not normal circumstances. Sauron is gaining strength; his evil escalates. The race of men lacks the might to fight him. We have yet to determine whether we Elves will honor our ancient alliance or leave them to their doom. Yet even while the fate of Middle Earth stands upon the edge of a knife, we must think of individuals. You and my granddaughter may have but little time to prepare."
Haldir pondered these words. "I do not see how I can rush such a thing. We have known each other for little more than a week. And yet in truth it feels like longer. Much longer. I sensed it even at our first meeting."
"You have each suffered much pain. Galadriel wishes you to take Amarië to bathe in the Pool of Renewal. It would be good for both of you."
Haldir turned in surprise. "She would permit it?"
"That is its purpose. Always is the power of Nenya to be used for healing and good. The water's magic can heal in ways that other spells cannot. You know this. If Elrond had brought Celebrían to bathe in its waters, perhaps she might not have taken the ship to the West."
Celeborn sighed. "But we shall see our daughter again one day."
"My lord, I know not what to say," Haldir responded in amazement.
"Say nothing to me, Marchwarden. Save your words for Amarië." Celeborn sounded faintly amused. "And this time I suggest you choose them wisely."
tbc
A/N - I thank all you great people for giving feedback, which means a lot to me. I appreciate it deeply.
