Part 13 – Celebration
Haldir returned to his position beside Ferodir just as Galadriel and Celeborn arrived. Their eyes were focused directly on him and he bowed his head and touched his heart in greeting as they reached his side.
"I thought I should come and congratulate you personally," Celeborn stated, a faint smile curling his lips, "since it is my granddaughter to whom you have bound yourself." He gazed deeply into Haldir's eyes as if to confirm that the binding had indeed taken place.
"Thank you, my lord," Haldir responded just as Amarië came up beside him.
Celeborn's gaze shifted to her face. "You have made a wise decision, child. I wish you both great joy."
"We look forward to your celebration this evening," Galadriel added, her kind blue eyes settling on Haldir. "It will be a time of much needed festivity for all."
Celeborn eyed the assemblage of elves with interest. "You are having a competition?"
"Er, yes. Ferodir challenged me." Haldir was still feeling extremely uncomfortable and would have preferred to call an immediate halt to the whole event.
"At your wife's request," Galadriel added with a glimmer of a smile. "Pray do not let us keep you from completing your contest. We will observe."
Wondering just how much the Lady discerned, Haldir had no choice but to acquiesce. He resumed his place and took his next shot, planting the arrow exactly where he wished it with no difficulty now that Amarië no longer toyed with him.
Ferodir stepped up. Nocking his arrow, he pulled back the bowstring, his blue eyes narrowed in concentration. He let fly the arrow and a surprised murmur rose from the surrounding crowd. Ferodir had missed his target by precisely the same distance that Haldir had missed his only a short while before. Haldir turned and looked at the other elf, but Ferodir only shrugged and grinned.
Neither of them missed any more shots for the remainder of the competition, and the outcome was a draw. Haldir was greatly relieved that it was over, but before he could politely disentangle himself and Amarië from the proceedings, he found himself strolling with Galadriel while Ferodir claimed Amarië and took her off to retrieve the arrows. The rest of the elves quickly departed to resume the training sessions with the humans.
"As always, Haldir, your devotion to duty is commendable," the Lady remarked in her serene way, "but I see no need for you to spend these hours with the mortals. You deserve some time with your bride."
Haldir cleared his throat. "We will have time later, my lady."
"Indeed," she replied, glancing at him with an odd look. "Yet I suggest you take her away from here and enjoy this day as it should be enjoyed."
He was silent, and very tempted by her suggestion. He was simply unused to putting his personal preferences before his duty. It had not occurred to him that it would be acceptable to do what he wished with this day. It was also his desire to complete this distasteful duty to the humans and have them out of Lothlórien as soon as possible.
"I know you would speak with me regarding other matters of concern," she went on. "Soon we will talk, but now is not the time. This is a day of great joy for you and Amarië. You must allow nothing to interfere with that."
"I thank you, my lady," was all he could think of to say.
"And you might thank Ferodir," she added with a mischievous smile. "A truer friend you will not find."
With those words, she left his side and glided over to the Lord Celeborn, who had seated himself upon a bench while he patiently awaited the return of his lady.
Unsure of her meaning, Haldir strode across the grass toward Ferodir and Amarië. She was laughing at whatever the dark-haired elf had said, and Haldir found himself wondering exactly what it was about Ferodir that appealed so greatly to every female he came across. Usually Haldir found it amusing, but he was not amused at the moment.
Ferodir had retrieved all his own arrows, while Amarië had collected Haldir's. She stuffed them into his quiver, then turned to walk alongside him.
Haldir fixed his hard gaze upon Ferodir. "Did you miss the target on purpose?"
"Why would I do that?"
"I know not. It just seemed very odd to me."
"Odd things do happen," Ferodir said imperturbably.
"Not that odd. The likelihood of us each missing by the same distance is too small to be believed."
Ferodir sighed, and switched abruptly to the Sylvan dialect. "It was my choice not to take advantage of you, Marchwarden. When I best you in a competition, it will be under fair and equal conditions."
"What makes you think the conditions were not fair and equal?" Haldir answered in the same tongue, his voice at its most arrogant.
"You know exactly what I mean. A victory under those circumstances would mean nothing to me. It was quite plain you had a large disadvantage. No pun intended."
Haldir could feel a flush creeping up his neck. "Was it that obvious? Or were you reading my mind?"
"I did not read your mind." Ferodir chuckled. "Nor was it obvious to others what was happening. You must realize that as an empath, I am aware of the unusual connection you share with your wife. I have felt her sense of mischief. It did not take much for me to ascertain your, shall we say, predicament."
Haldir said nothing.
"I must say I envy you," Ferodir went on. "I might almost be tempted to bind myself to one female if I could find one so gifted. And so lovely, of course."
"What are you two saying?" Amarië demanded, sounding a little cross.
"One moment, meleth." Haldir gripped her wrist and addressed himself to Ferodir. "You will keep this to yourself," he said with a hint of steel.
"I would not dream of telling anyone. However, I daresay there will come a time when you can repay me for the favor."
"I am sure of that," Haldir said with a slight twist of his mouth.
"Would you like me to go away?" Amarië inquired, very sweetly.
Ferodir flashed her a smile, and returned to speaking Sindarin. "Not at all, princess. My apologies. I'm sure your good husband will be happy to explain."
Haldir slipped his arm around Amarië's waist. "It is Ferodir who is going away. You and I have other business to attend to."
Ferodir smirked. "Business of enormous urgency," he murmured in Sylvan.
Haldir heaved a long-suffering sigh.
xxx
Amarië skipped along beside Haldir, trying to keep up with him as he moved swiftly over the grass. "Are you going to tell me what that was all about?"
"No," he said calmly. "I am not."
"What language were you speaking?"
"Sylvan. The tongue your father taught you is Sindarin."
"Yes, I know. Where are we going?"
He glanced at her, his smile so intimate that her heart did a silly little dance. "You are full of questions today."
Clearly he was keeping his word to her that they would spend some time alone. Elated, she teased, "What about the training? I thought that was what you wanted to do."
"It was never what I wanted to do. It was my duty. But Galadriel has released me from my duty for today."
"I see." She glanced up at him, a twinkle in her eyes. "So where are we going? Dare I hope that you are mine for awhile?"
"I am always yours, even when we are apart." He reached out and caught her around the waist, dragging her against him so he could kiss her cheek. "As you requested, milady, we are going somewhere we can be alone. Somewhere close. I do not feel like climbing all those stairs."
She slid her arm around him, her hand on the side of his hip. "Nor do I."
He led her in a new direction, along a forest path she had not seen before. Within minutes they came to a secluded place beside a small, trickling stream. Fragrant flowers bloomed along the bank, and dry leaves lined the ground where he paused and hauled her into his arms.
He crushed his mouth to hers, his kiss scorching, his eager tongue thrusting deep as his hands gripped her bottom, forcing her hard against him so that she could feel how badly he wanted her. With a whimper, she twined one arm around his neck, the other boldly sliding down his muscular back as far as she could reach.
He tore his mouth away and whispered her name, his arm about her waist as he exerted enough force to push her toward the ground. His strength supporting her, he lowered her easily to the soft leaves and knelt between her knees.
She gazed up at him, the memory of her recent teasing replaying in her mind. "So how do you feel?" she asked playfully.
"How do I feel?" He seemed to consider this as he leaned over her, his hands resting on the ground beside her shoulders, his long hair forming a pale curtain around their faces. "There is an Elvish word that perfectly describes my current state. But I will not tell you what it is."
"Why not?"
"Because, it is rather coarse. But also accurate."
"Perhaps I already know it," she murmured, her smile saucy.
"I feel certain this is not a word your father would have taught you." He sat back on his heels and shoved up her tunic, jerking impatiently at the ties to her leggings. "This was a bad idea. I should have had you wear the sheet."
She giggled as he drew the garment rapidly down her legs and tossed it aside. "You seem to be in quite a hurry."
He lifted an eyebrow. "So now you are complaining? Only a short while ago you claimed to want a demonstration of my ability."
"Oh, I did." She pulled down her tunic to cover herself, glancing up at the surrounding trees. "Are you certain we are alone?"
"Quite certain. Why? Would you prefer an audience?" He paused long enough to reach down and shove her tunic back up again. "Leave it. I want to see you."
Her heart thudding with anticipation, she hid a smile as she watched him jerk at the ties of his own leggings. In his urgency he had somehow succeeded in creating a knot.
The frustrated expression on his face as he struggled made her laugh. "I'm surprised you haven't burst the string by now. You must be most uncomfortable."
He sent her glowering look, and continued to work at the knot. "Whose fault is that?"
"It must be a very strong string," she remarked.
He made a face.
Watching him, she said suddenly, "You were not angry with me, were you?"
With a triumphant sound, he yanked the knot loose and successfully freed himself from the confines of his leggings. His eyes moved over her possessively, a slight smile curving one side of his mouth. "No, I was not angry, though it's a wonder I didn't explode right there in front of everyone." With one fluid movement, he lowered his body to hers, and poised his arousal at her entrance. "And if that had happened, meleth, I would have had to punish you most severely."
Sighing blissfully, she wrapped her arms around him, hugging the sides of his hips with her thighs. "Really? What would you have done?"
"I know not, but I would have thought of something fitting." He pushed into her only a small distance, and then withdrew. "I want your promise that you will not play such games with me again when others are around."
"I promise," she whispered.
"I will hold you to that." Still he made no move to seek the completion they both desired, but only nudged against her in a tantalizingly brief encounter.
"Please . . ." She moaned and closed her eyes, arching her back and rocking her hips in an effort to get closer to him, but with a soft laugh, he denied her that contact.
"Please what?" His voice was husky, full of sensual demand.
"I am as ready as you are. Do not tease me."
"Do not tease you? After what you did to me earlier, you dare ask this?"
"How can I make it up to you?" she almost whimpered.
"Ah, now you are asking the right questions."
He pushed into her again, but only slightly, then withdrew once more, chuckling low in his throat at her trembling endeavors to keep him near.
"You . . . have something in mind?" she gasped. Desperate desire swirled in the pit of her stomach, desire that had been smoldering for hours and was now a rampaging burn.
"My clever little wife," he murmured lovingly. "Clever and so talented."
"Why do you not just tell me . . .?"
His lips whispered along the line of her jaw, his teeth nipping her lightly until he reached her ear. "Oh, I thought you might be able to guess."
"My mind . . . is not working too well at the moment."
"Excuses." He kissed her lips and the tip of her nose. "I am thinking of a very recent demonstration of your talents. It shouldn't be too hard for you to recall."
Their connection told her that he hovered at the very threshold of his control, yet he exerted an iron command over himself while he waited for her to reply.
"Something recent? What are you . . . oh." She gave him a slow, feminine smile as she recalled exactly what she had done to him on the archery field. "So you liked that, did you?"
"You might say that. I nearly passed out."
"Would you like me to do that now?"
"No, not now." With no more hesitation, he drove himself deeply into her, his gray eyes blazing with hunger. "But I'd like you to keep it in mind for next time."
xxx
An hour later, Haldir cradled Amarië against him as she ran her fingers through his silken hair, admiring its beauty and texture and the pale, distinctive color so very like her father's hair. Her head lay on his chest so that she could feel the rise and fall of his breathing, hear the slow, steady beat of his heart. Recalling his unrestrained moans of ecstasy only a short time before, she was filled with intense satisfaction that she had been able to please him in the way that he wished. He had pleased her too. She felt sated and full of a joy she had never known prior to meeting him. She knew also that he felt the same joy and contentment. She could feel it, and the knowledge that it was due to her presence in his life elevated her own happiness to a new level.
She traced her fingers over the taut, hard muscles of his stomach. She loved to make him smile, loved his laugh, loved to tease him. "Do you realize you never even bothered to take off your boots?" she inquired.
"I beg your pardon. Did you want to see my nice feet again?"
She laughed. "And by the way, this morning I counted twenty-four arrows in your quiver. I trust there is no hidden meaning to that."
Beneath her cheek, his chest shook with amusement. "Ha. You flatter me."
When she laughed again, he rubbed his face against her hair, his hand cupping the swell of her breast. "You are the first person in a very long time to laugh at my jokes."
"I think you're very funny," she said loyally. "Besides, you laugh at mine. Ennis almost never does."
"Most people do not even think I have a sense of humor."
"Ferodir does. And he thinks very highly of you also."
"You think so?" Idly, his finger traced the circle of her nipple.
"Definitely."
"Perhaps. He enjoys getting under my skin. So do my brothers," he grumbled.
Gently, she said, "I think they try to cheer you up because they care about you. Those who love you like to see you happy. Do you know that when you smile, your whole face lights up?"
He did not answer at once, but seemed to reflect upon this for awhile. At last he said, "I wish I had met you two thousand years ago. I wonder why the Valar allowed us this connection, then kept us apart for so long."
She sighed. "I know. It seems unfair. But there must have been a reason." Her arms tightened around him. "I am frightened for you, Haldir."
"Why?"
"Because of my dreams."
"You do not remember them, you said."
"But when I first wake, I remember terror. Something is going to happen."
"Nothing is going to happen. I am immortal, and soon you will be too."
She was silent.
"Do not think of such things now. This should be a day of joy for us."
"I know. Tell me of this celebration. Is there anything I should know?"
"Hmmm. Well, Rúmil's poetry is terrible. Orophin is a better dancer than I am. Rúmil will get drunk and do something foolish. Ferodir will flirt with you."
She chuckled. "Are you jealous of Ferodir?"
"Jealousy is not an emotion that elves indulge in," he informed her firmly. "At least rarely. I grow weary of his flirting, but I do not feel jealousy."
"Because you know I love you?" she asked, smoothing a lock of his hair.
"Because I know you love me," he agreed. He gave a sigh, but it sounded like one of contentment. "I have to go back. There is something I must do before it gets much later."
"What do you have to do?"
"I cannot tell you because it is to be surprise. I will take you back to our room so you can rest."
She hesitated, unsure that she wanted to rest, but then discovered that she did. She was tired, and he somehow knew it. "You do not have to take me, Haldir. I am not a fragile flower who cannot climb stairs on her own."
"Perhaps you are not fragile, but you are a flower, nonetheless. And I will go with you." He rose to his feet and began to relace his leggings while she dressed.
When they reached his rooms, he kissed her once more, his hands sliding around her waist. "It is so difficult to leave you," he murmured, "but I won't be long. And you must rest. In a few hours we will have our celebration with all Lothlórien, and after that . . ."
"After that?" she prodded, tilting her head to gaze up at him.
"After that we can celebrate again, in our own way."
"Perhaps you will be too tired," she suggested with a twinkle.
A gleam of humor warmed his eyes. "I cannot think of anything more unlikely, meleth."
xxx
When his brothers had first mentioned their intention of arranging a celebration, Haldir had been unenthusiastic; he had been to binding celebrations before and they had always depressed him. His introspective nature made him ill-suited for social occasions devoted to revelry, and although females often flocked to his side, he did not especially like to dance. Nevertheless, the moment he had realized that Amarië liked the idea of a celebration, he had buried his objections. He would do anything to make her happy, hence he'd resigned himself to the event, even if it meant being the focus of attention and the butt of more sly jokes and teasing from his brothers.
Oddly, however, he now found that he was starting to get excited. As he walked through Caras Galadhon, smiling faces greeted him everywhere, and he found that his steps grew lighter than they had been in a long time. And when he returned to his rooms, he found his bride waiting, garbed once more in the magnificent white gown she had worn the evening before. Lornarië must have done her hair, for she now wore elven braids on either side of her head, pulled back behind her head and held in place by a silver circlet of Lórien leaves.
He stopped and stared at her, drinking her in with bemusement. "You look like a gift straight from the arms of Elbereth," he told her quietly.
She blushed a little, and indicated a set of apparel on the bed. "Galadriel sent these for you to wear. I think you will look like a gift from Manwë in them."
Smiling, he took the time to wash, then donned the silvery gray leggings and undertunic, followed by the white overtunic richly embroidered with silver threads. Then he sat while Amarië tended to his braids, reweaving them with dexterity and precision while she occasionally brushed his face with kisses and whispered endearments such as he had never heard. It seemed to him the most perfect moment in his life thus far.
"Lornarië told me that Ennis has been given my former room," she informed him at one point. "He is also being provided with a bath and fresh clothing. I only hope he is able to enjoy himself this evening."
"If Lornarië has decided to care for him, he will be well-tended," Haldir told her. "Worry not, Amarië. This evening will be a time of pleasure for him and for us."
Lórien wine was already flowing freely by the time they arrived, although clear, cold spring water, mead and ale were also available. Rúmil came up to them at once carrying two silver goblets, which he placed in their hands with a grin.
"You took long enough," he said. "The party has already started."
Haldir lifted a brow. "You certainly appear to have started. Are you going to be brave and ask Brianna to dance?"
Rúmil's grin widened. "I know not. Perhaps if I get drunk enough, I will have the courage to look at her when I read my love poems."
"I thought the love poetry was for us," Amarië teased.
"Oh, it is, little sister," Rúmil affirmed, still smiling as he left them.
The celebration took place on the forest floor at the foot of the greatest of all mellyrn trees, that which bore the Lord and Lady's talan. Haldir noted how much effort had been put into the arrangements, and was conscious of a sense of gratitude for his brothers and friends. Long wooden tables and chairs has been set up, along with festoons of gauzy, multi-colored banners and multitudes of twinkling lights. Upon a dais sat the high table where the Lord and Lady would dine, along with Haldir and Amarië, Rúmil and Orophin, and Ennis and Lornarië. The Lord and Lady were last to arrive, descending from the heights of their talan with majestic grace and warm smiles. Galadriel had decreed that Lornarië was to be Ennis's official escort for the evening, a fact that seemed to please the pretty elf as much as it seemed to disconcert Amarië's brother, Haldir noted with amusement. They stood together some distance away, and Haldir thought that Ennis appeared both mystified and charmed by Lornarië, who seemed to be regaling him with tales and information.
Haldir slipped his arm around Amarië's waist and drew her close as they sipped their wine. Always before he had been reserved in public, and would never have dreamed of exhibiting a public display of affection with a female. However, much had changed in the past few days. Between the joy of finding his life-mate, and his time in the Pool of Renewal, he found he had lost much of his former self-consciousness and reticence. This was his wife, he was proud of her, he was happy, and he was in love.
And so when it came time to dance, when the harps and lyres and flutes began, and everyone's eyes were upon them, Haldir led Amarië out and put his arms around her with none of his former reserve. Despite the grins of his brothers and so many others who had never witnessed the Marchwarden exhibiting such behavior (or wearing such a besotted expression), Haldir smiled blissfully and gazed into his wife's eyes as he led her into the first dance, a slow, close dance. Soon other couples joined in the dancing, including Galadriel and Celeborn, which shifted some of the attention away from the newly bound couple. Once others swayed with the music, Haldir reached into a fold in his tunic and withdrew a tiny parcel.
"This is my surprise," he said, his voice low and intimate.
They paused in their dancing as she took it from him and opened it, and found the two intricately formed silver rings he had had the elven silversmith make while she rested. "Oh, Haldir," she breathed, in such a way that his pleasure sharply magnified.
"These binding rings symbolize our eternal union," he told her tenderly. "I will love you forever, Amarië."
He took the smaller of the two and slipped it onto her middle finger. It fit perfectly because he had measured her finger during the night while she slept. He then handed her the other ring so she could put it on his hand.
She slipped it onto his finger, then leaned up to kiss him directly on the mouth. "Thank you," she whispered, her eyes shining with emotion. "I will love you forever also, Haldir of Lórien."
Several nearby elves grinned at them, and Haldir smiled proudly, hoping she'd kiss him again. She was so beautiful and wonderful, he was sure they all must envy him, which was a very nice feeling. Always before, he had felt that others secretly pitied him, but things were different now. He had a life-mate of his own! Impulsively, he bent his head and kissed her again despite a few nearby chuckles.
She slipped her arms around his neck and pressed against him as they resumed their dance, her fingers burrowing into his hair on either side of his head.
"Not the ears," he whispered, and grinned as he felt her giggle.
"Don't worry," she whispered back. "I will save such things for later."
But to his very great delight, she did kiss him again.
xxx
Some distance away, Ennis watched his sister dance with her elf-husband, struck with an odd feeling of melancholy. Soon he would leave Lothlórien, likely never to return. What awaited him, he knew not, but he did know that already he was more prepared for whatever lay ahead than he had ever been before. So much had he learned from the elves in such a short time, especially from the Marchwarden. His views regarding elves had changed; he had a new respect for them, but wished he understood them better. This fascinating she-elf hanging onto his arm bewildered him most of all.
"Why do you look so sad?" Lornarië asked. "This is a time of celebration."
He looked down at her. "I am not sad," he lied. "I only ponder the future."
"Do not think of that now," she chided. "Come, dance with me."
She took his hand and led him out among the other dancers, then put her arms around his neck. He studied her, noting the beauty of her face, the sparkle in her blue eyes, the delicate pink of her lovely lips, the dainty pointed ears. He smiled slightly.
"Do you find me attractive?" she inquired. "What do you think of my ears?"
"I find you very attractive. And I find your ears . . . different."
"Yes." She seemed satisfied with his answer. "I like yours too."
When she pressed her exquisite body closer, Ennis abruptly decided to forget his worries. "You are the most beautiful female I have ever met," he said quietly.
"Truly?" She smiled at him. "You are the first mortal male I have met, but if they are all as handsome and gallant as you, I shall be sad when it comes time for me to leave this land for Valinor."
"When will you leave?" he asked curiously.
"I know not. Someday. Our time is different from yours, you know."
He sighed. "Yes, I know."
"But tonight you and I—elf and mortal—can measure time together," she told him softly. "Our hearts can beat as one if we so choose."
Ennis knew her meaning, and thought at once upon his mother and her elven lover. Should he beware? "'Tis a tempting offer you make, fair Lornarië. Are all elf maidens so generous?"
"As to that, I cannot say. I only know I find you most alluring. So do many of my sister elves, if you would care to dance with them."
He glanced in the direction she indicated, and saw at least six other ladies sending him smiles. "I think I prefer you," he replied, "unless that does not suit you."
"It suits me well," she whispered, her hand in his hair. "My handsome Ennis."
xxx
After a little while, it was time to pause and dine. Everyone took their seats, then Lord Celeborn rose to make a formal announcement of Amarië's blood connection to himself as well as to state his joy that his granddaughter had chosen such a fine elf as their Marchwarden for her husband. Next, as the elder of Haldir's brothers, Orophin stood and made an engaging speech in which he praised his brother's devotion to duty, his lengthy and steadfast service to their people, and his good fortune in finding Amarië. He also spoke highly of his new sister, whom he called beautiful, courageous, and wise in her choice of a mate.
Then it was Rúmil's turn. He rose unsteadily to his feet, having imbibed enough Lórien wine for two elves. He cleared his throat. "Dear friends," he began with dignity, "as many of you know, I do not spend all my time with a bow or sword in my hand. I am also a poet of significant talent." Light laughter rippled through the crowd. "Tonight, in honor of my brother and his bride, I will share with you a selection of my poetry." He sent Haldir a grin, and began to recite.
I
dream of love, I dream of peace
Your lips unlock the key to
these.
What have I done to deserve you?
No answer comes, but I
love you.
My love, my love, this is so true.
Please do not
leave, what would I do?
While Rúmil continued,
Ferodir lounged in the shadows, feeling oddly restless. He had been
sitting beside two of his current flirts, but had excused himself on
the pretext that he needed to stretch his long legs. Unfortunately,
he could still hear Rúmil's poetry all too clearly.
But
still I search inside your eyes
Where I can see and realize
That
I was born to still your cries
To kiss your cheeks, your mouth,
your eyes
To help your heart to beat with mine
I will love you
for all of time.
Ferodir pressed his lips together to keep
from snickering. Such bad poetry and such maudlin sentiments! A love
for all time? He did not know if he would ever find what the
Marchwarden had apparently found, but he thought it highly unlikely.
In any case, why would he wish to bind himself forever to one, when
there were so many to choose from? It would be like eating nothing
but lembas for all of eternity.
Annoyed by the thought, he stalked further into the shadows, further from the sound of Rúmil's voice as he began another poem. Shoving this love business aside, he tried to focus on what was really troubling him. It was Galadriel, he decided. When she and Celeborn had first come down the stairs, Ferodir had sensed that something was amiss. Very rarely was he able to pick up anything from the Lady since her inner shields were so finely wrought. But something was wrong. Very wrong.
He had a queer sense of foreboding that disturbed him deeply.
xxx
Much later, after everyone had dined and several ballads had been sung, Amarië found herself dancing with Ferodir. Garbed in deep crimson decorated with silver threads, he provided a rich complement to Orophin and Rúmil in dark green, and Ennis in his borrowed blue tunic. She had danced with Lord Celeborn and Ennis, as well as Orophin and Rúmil, who had each taken pains to teach her some steps to a lively dance she had never seen before.
Ferodir had managed to get to her for the next slow dance, cutting out Haldir, who had been heading her way. Haldir had rolled his eyes, but then he had given her a wink and sent something sizzling along the connection between them that told her he did not object. He knew she was immune to Ferodir's charms.
"You are so full of joy," Ferodir murmured as he gathered her close, "that you glow nearly as much as Galadriel."
Amarië smiled. "Someday you will find a lady who glows for you."
"You think so?" His dark head tilted, one eyebrow raised with disbelief. "I have met many ladies, my dear. Many of them have glowed for me, but not in the way you glow for our Marchwarden." He spun her once around, adding, "Your husband watches us closely."
"He loves me," she said simply. "As you know. What is it like to read minds?"
"It is unsettling," he answered frankly. "I cannot recommend it. It places a burden of responsibility upon my shoulders that will follow me all the days of my life. And unless I am slain in battle, that will be a very long time."
"How are you able to go into battle? Do you not feel the emotions of all around you? Would that not be too much for you?"
"A shrewd question. Yes, it is difficult. As much as possible I shut off my ability while I am fighting, yet at the same time I must stay open so I can locate and distinguish those who are merely wounded from those who are dead."
"You mean among the enemy?" she asked in confusion.
"Yes. And among the elves. When an elf is severely wounded, he can put himself into a state where he appears dead but in fact is not. He is only healing. It is my duty to discern the difference and get them to safety if I can. Or at least fend off any further attacks upon them."
"At great risk to yourself," she added astutely.
"Indeed. So I am not the purposeless fool you first thought me," he added.
"I never thought you a fool."
"Nay, only useless and shallow. Oh, don't deny it. I felt your emotion."
She flushed. "If that is so, I beg your pardon most sincerely."
His beautiful face clearly showed his amusement. "Apology accepted. Now here comes the Marchwarden. I am going to give you up to your husband, my lovely. He grows impatient for your company."
Ferodir's arms were gone for but an instant when Haldir's arms replaced them. "You and Ferodir were having quite a conversation," he murmured.
She searched his eyes. "Are you sure you are not jealous?"
"Not at all," he said mildly. "Elves do not succumb to that emotion. I merely made a remark. I could make many more."
"Oh?" She lifted her chin and smiled. "Go ahead."
His arm tightened, drawing her closer so that his mouth was very near her ear. "I could remark upon how very beautiful you look. Or how well that gown suits you, both on and off. Especially off."
"Oh, so it is fresh remarks you want to make! And how much of that Lórien wine have you had?"
He kissed her ear. "Enough to make me bold. But not enough to prevent me from doing what I plan to do."
"And what is that?" she asked flirtatiously.
"Ah, you want the particulars, do you?"
She could feel herself blushing just a little. "Do I?"
"Of course you do."
And he began to whisper in her ear, describing in delicious, bone-melting detail exactly what he had in mind . . .
The celebration was still going on when, only a short while later, Haldir led Amarië quietly away from the crowd. It seemed to him to be an excellent time to depart. Rúmil was getting wild and dancing on the table in an effort to impress Brianna, who did not appear to be impressed. Orophin and many others were well on their way to getting drunk. Ennis and Lornarië had disappeared. Ferodir had disappeared. And no one at all seemed to be paying any heed to the Marchwarden and his new wife.
Except Galadriel, who sent him a silent message as they turned to go.
Come to me at sunrise, Marchwarden. We have much to discuss.
tbc
