The Fallen- Part Seven
By Rhiana Larsen
Author's Note: Hello, all! I know I've been off the planet forever, but as promised, here is another chapter to The Fallen. It's more of an interlude than any real action, but I think you'll enjoy! Let me know what you think!
"But why would he do that," Nyara asked. "Sauron ruled because he inflicted pain. He ruled through fear. Why doesn't Umbrul just do the same, if that's what he wants? Why does he need me?"
Haldir was surprised that Nyara wasn't dwelling on the fact that the truth of her parentage had just been revealed. It was an endearing trait that she was still focusing on the problem at hand. "Likely as not, he doesn't have the power," he explained.
Thranduil nodded. "Or the resources. The Dark Lord had unknown numbers of minions under his control. In these days most of them have died or fled and are unwilling to show themselves, perhaps out of fear."
"But the Orcs and the rest of the demons that Sauron controlled were born to kill and make evil wherever they went," Nyara said.
Thranduil nodded. "But in the end they were defeated. Some of them still remain in the dark places of the world. Waiting. But Umbrul has failed to gather them properly. His army won't be very large. Still, we must gather all the help we can. I will not have a slaughter on my hands," he said, remembering the mistakes of his ancestors long ago.
"We should separate then."
The two Elf-Lords looked at Nyara. "Separate," Haldir repeated.
She shrugged. "We could cover more ground that way. I could go to Rohan and Gondor and gather what resources I can find there. You two could go wherever the rest of the Elves are and ask them for help. It could work."
Thranduil was silent for a long moment. This woman surprised him with her sharp thinking, and threw off his beliefs that mortals had grown lax and unintelligent over the Ages. She was a sprig of hope in a time where he had no hope for the greatness of Middle-earth to prosper under the rule of Men. Perhaps they did have a chance, if there were more like this young woman among them.
"We will hold council on this on the morrow," Thranduil advised them. "Also," he added to Nyara, "tomorrow Haldir will teach you to fight. It will be necessary to your survival. I will have weapons sent to your chambers this evening." He nodded, and an Elf materialized from the shadows. He was tall and handsome, as Nyara had found all Elves were.
"This is Daramon. He will guide you to your rooms. I have had them placed close to each other in the event that......" He trailed off, preferring to keep his inner thoughts to himself. "If you find yourselves hungry during the night, there are many places in my home to find sustenance. I trust you'll find your way."
"I will show her, Thranduil," Haldir said suddenly, and Nyara gave him a strange glance. Also, Thranduil paused, gazing at his friend.
"Good even, then," he bade them, and disappeared out a side door of the Great Hall, into one of the many corridors that made up the large palace.
Daramon greeted Haldir in Elvish. "Cilamin," he said, and Haldir motioned for her to follow them. She stepped out of the Great Hall back into the corridor she had entered from, but took a different series of turns, some of which seemed to go downhill, then veer sharply upward. They climbed for many minutes, until Daramon stopped at another set of doors. He spoke in Elvish to Haldir for long moments, and Nyara could do naught but stand and wait. Already she felt the fatigue seep into her limbs and saturate her mind with weariness. Just as she began to sway a bit, Daramon nodded politely to her and left them.
"He seemed very nice," she commented. "What did he have to say?"
Haldir cleared his throat, opened his mouth, and closed it again.
"What?" she demanded, beginning to feel nervous.
"Thranduil has stated that it would be his pleasure that we share this chamber tonight." As he finished Nyara would have sworn, if not for the low light in the chambers, that Haldir's cheeks flamed.
"Share?!" she squeaked. "You mean, both of us, in there?"
Haldir nodded.
Fighting for composure against the fact that in all her years she'd never even been in such close quarters with such a masculine demonstration of Elfkind, or Mankind for that matter, Nyara swallowed hard and managed a semblance of calm. "Well, that's alright. I will sleep on the floor." She tried to smile, but it came out as a trembly wobble of her lips rather than a cheeky grin.
Haldir shook his head. "Thranduil has strange ways. I imagine he has his reasons for these arrangements. But do not fret, Nyara. Your virtue is safe."
Her mouth dropped. "Oh, no. I, I didn't mean. Oh, no......" She sighed and raised her eyes to his beautiful crystalline ones. "I trust you with my life, Haldir."
He seemed taken aback by such a heartfelt statement. "I......thank you for your trust, Nyara." He cleared his throat again. "Elves do not sleep, so you may have the bed."
"You don't sleep?"
"No. We retreat in our minds to places of rest and rejuvenation. Oftentimes we will walk through the woods to do this, but in Thranduil's realm it is too dangerous. I will sit and rest, and when morning comes, I will be well rested."
Nyara found it hard to swallow, not sleeping, but nodded anyway. "Then let's go in," she said, trying without success to stifle a yawn. "I'm so tired, I'm about to fall asleep on my feet.
Haldir opened the door to the chamber and ushered Nyara inside. He closed it and turned around, nearly bumping into her. She stood frozen, rooted to the spot just inside the door, staring. "Is something wrong?"
"I've never seen a room so beautiful in all my life," she breathed.
And it was indeed so. This was one of the few luxuriously decorated guest rooms in Thranduil's palace. All the lines in stone were smooth and rounded, their color a soft muted silver gray that instantly took hold of Nyara's senses and soothed them. A large bed sat off to her right, so big that she would have to climb into it; so big that stretched out across it widthwise she would not be able to touch the ends with fingers or toes. The bed was made of a beautiful pale wood, almost the silver color of the walls. There were also a very beautiful chest for clothing and linens, a luxurious chair draped with a velvety material of deep emerald green, a large silver mirror, a table with two more chairs, and a large fireplace that crackled and snapped, filling the air with warmth.
"Thranduil spares nothing with his honored guests," Haldir explained, taking her shoulders and gently nudging her forward. "I will leave so you might change into something suitable for sleeping."
"It's alright, Haldir. I don't have anything to change into. I'll just sleep in my tunic and breeches." She longed to sleep unencumbered as she usually did, but it would not be appropriate to do so with Haldir in the room.
"Thranduil has already had garments sent up for you to wear," he explained, indicating the large chest.
"But how did he know what size?" she wondered aloud.
"Thranduil's people have magics that other Elves no longer retain. Even I do not know all his secrets." He turned back to her before he exited. "I will be directly outside, in case you need me."
And then he was gone.
Nyara turned back to the chest, and crossed the room toward it. Upon lifting the lid, she was greeted with a wide array of fabrics, all luxurious in themselves. Fur, silk, linen, a type of wool, soft leathers. She found the gown that looked most like a sleeping garment and pulled it out. It was a soft delicate white garment, woven in a gossamer pearl thread that made it seem to shine as she moved it about in the light cast from the fireplace. She was just about to unlace her tunic when Haldir knocked gently on the door.
She put the garment down. "Yes, Haldir?"
He poked his head in the door. "Daramon has just informed me that there is a bath through that door, if you are pleased to take one." He indicated a door carved into the stone room that Nyara hadn't even noticed before. Then he retreated from the doorway and closed it again.
Nyara rustled the fabric between her hands and fingers, delighting in its silkiness. A bath would be a wonderful thing. She felt grimy and unwashed, dirty from her travels. There was a council to be held in the morning. That settled her decision. She gathered the gown in her arms and pulled a long robe from the chest. It was made entirely of fur; so brilliantly white that when the flames from the fire danced across it it looked like fire on snow. She rubbed it under her chin, disbelieving the utter quality and softness of all the garments. Surely Thranduil did have magics of his own to produce these items.
Her bundle in her arms, Nyara set off through the door, where a hot bath was already drawn and steaming. Temptation was too strong, and she gave in. Her breeches, tunic and the rest of her garments were tossed on the floor haphazardly until she was bare, and she sank into the delightful stone pool up to her chin. The sigh that was half moan that escaped her lips was one of pure comfort and relaxation.
After several moments she opened her eyes and looked around. This room was very plain with no decorations save the stone pool and a wooden table beside it. Upon the table were all manner of bottles and flasks with what looked like oils in them. Curiosity got the best of her and she sampled the scents of each one, holding them to her nose and inhaling deeply. One particular scent caught her and she poured a small amount into the bath, not wanting to be greedy.
In an instant the room was filled with that sweet scent, calming her mind and relaxing her body. Her eyes fluttered closed and she heard no more until there came a soft rapping at the doorframe.
Drowsy, Nyara opened her eyes. "Haldir?"
"Yes, it's me. Daramon has brought up some of Thranduil's best wine at his request. It will give you deep sleep and pleasant dreams. It seems you could use a little of both," Haldir commented softly to himself as he withdrew back into the room.
Nyara emerged moments later clad in the white gown and wrapped in the fur robe. It was long and trailed a bit behind her, but she looked more Elf than Mortal to him then. There was a glow about her that filled him with hope... and something else more disturbing. He pushed it away and nodded to the table, where a tray had been laid out for them. Steaming meats and a bit of hot bread were there, along with a sweet honey. There were only two goblets, and each were full of the coveted Dorwinion wine that Thranduil so prized he gave it only to his guests and used it at his feasts.
"Sit," he suggested, pulling out the chair and ushering Nyara into it. He slid her close to the table and placed the goblet in her hand, along with a large piece of meat. "Eat if you can, and finish the wine. Then I bid you get some rest, for tomorrow will be a long day."
Obediently, Nyara bit into the meat, savoring the juicy flavor. Suddenly ravenous, she ate hefty portions of the meat and the bread before she managed to sit back and sip at her wine. Humiliation took her when she caught Haldir watching intently. "I am sorry. I didn't realize how hungry I was."
"When was the last time you ate?" he demanded. There was a sudden fire in his eyes, a dark kindling in those crystalline depths that had her wishing she was still asleep. She cleared her throat delicately and tried to remember.
"I believe it was......ah," she fought to remember the bleak days of riding from her home, running out of the meager food she had packed, as well as water. "My best guess is about two weeks past."
"Two weeks!" he exclaimed, not a shout of anger, but a quiet revelation. "And yet you spoke nothing of your hunger during your ride with me. Why?"
To this, Nyara had no answer. "I do not know. Perhaps because you had already saved my life and I dared not ask anything more."
Haldir simply stared at the young woman before him as she took another drink of the heady wine. If he had doubted Thranduil's words about Nyara being kin to Eowyn, he doubted them no longer. Two weeks' time without food would have broken any mortal Man he had ever known, save Aragorn, and perhaps Eomer. She was made of stern stuff, indeed.
"What are your thoughts about being descended from the White Lady of Rohan?" he asked her.
Nyara glanced at him over the rim of her goblet, eyes wide. She set it down and straightened in her chair. "I don't know. I don't feel any different. Maybe it hasn't sunk in yet, and I will feel different tomorrow. Or, maybe it makes no difference either way." She was speaking more to herself now than to him, digesting what Thranduil had told her.
"Tomorrow we'll begin your instruction with a sword. Fighting knives, too. It will be difficult, you understand." For some reason he felt uncomfortable speaking with her thus. It was almost too intimate.
"I understand, Haldir. I can learn."
Her eyes were eager, bright and ready to soak in all she could from him. The beginnings of something dangerous stirred within his deepest soul, something that threatened to change everything he'd ever known. He pushed it away and stood, straightening his robes. "You should get some sleep. Tomorrow is sure to be a trying day for you."
Nyara took a last swallow of her wine and stood. "You're right. I am a bit tired." She caught herself on a long yawn and swayed. Haldir was by her side in an instant, but she smiled and waved him away. "Thank you, Haldir. I think I will go to sleep."
It took some doing to climb up into the large bed. She slipped off the fur robe and laid it at the foot of the bed. Haldir picked it up and hung it on a hook and stood back while Nyara slipped beneath the warm coverings. She gazed up at him through sleepy lashes and managed a small smile. "Good night, Haldir. You really saved my life, you know."
And then she was gone, fast asleep in the land of dreams.
Haldir took a moment to study her face, so serene. "Good night, Nyara," he said. "Sleep well."
And that's all for now! I hope you enjoyed. I'll have more up later, covering Haldir teaching Nyara to fight (eep, that'll be scary), and Thranduil's plans for Umbrul. If you've got any ideas, feel free to send them to me at:
buffypeacheshotmail.com
Thanks again for reading!
RhianaRae
By Rhiana Larsen
Author's Note: Hello, all! I know I've been off the planet forever, but as promised, here is another chapter to The Fallen. It's more of an interlude than any real action, but I think you'll enjoy! Let me know what you think!
"But why would he do that," Nyara asked. "Sauron ruled because he inflicted pain. He ruled through fear. Why doesn't Umbrul just do the same, if that's what he wants? Why does he need me?"
Haldir was surprised that Nyara wasn't dwelling on the fact that the truth of her parentage had just been revealed. It was an endearing trait that she was still focusing on the problem at hand. "Likely as not, he doesn't have the power," he explained.
Thranduil nodded. "Or the resources. The Dark Lord had unknown numbers of minions under his control. In these days most of them have died or fled and are unwilling to show themselves, perhaps out of fear."
"But the Orcs and the rest of the demons that Sauron controlled were born to kill and make evil wherever they went," Nyara said.
Thranduil nodded. "But in the end they were defeated. Some of them still remain in the dark places of the world. Waiting. But Umbrul has failed to gather them properly. His army won't be very large. Still, we must gather all the help we can. I will not have a slaughter on my hands," he said, remembering the mistakes of his ancestors long ago.
"We should separate then."
The two Elf-Lords looked at Nyara. "Separate," Haldir repeated.
She shrugged. "We could cover more ground that way. I could go to Rohan and Gondor and gather what resources I can find there. You two could go wherever the rest of the Elves are and ask them for help. It could work."
Thranduil was silent for a long moment. This woman surprised him with her sharp thinking, and threw off his beliefs that mortals had grown lax and unintelligent over the Ages. She was a sprig of hope in a time where he had no hope for the greatness of Middle-earth to prosper under the rule of Men. Perhaps they did have a chance, if there were more like this young woman among them.
"We will hold council on this on the morrow," Thranduil advised them. "Also," he added to Nyara, "tomorrow Haldir will teach you to fight. It will be necessary to your survival. I will have weapons sent to your chambers this evening." He nodded, and an Elf materialized from the shadows. He was tall and handsome, as Nyara had found all Elves were.
"This is Daramon. He will guide you to your rooms. I have had them placed close to each other in the event that......" He trailed off, preferring to keep his inner thoughts to himself. "If you find yourselves hungry during the night, there are many places in my home to find sustenance. I trust you'll find your way."
"I will show her, Thranduil," Haldir said suddenly, and Nyara gave him a strange glance. Also, Thranduil paused, gazing at his friend.
"Good even, then," he bade them, and disappeared out a side door of the Great Hall, into one of the many corridors that made up the large palace.
Daramon greeted Haldir in Elvish. "Cilamin," he said, and Haldir motioned for her to follow them. She stepped out of the Great Hall back into the corridor she had entered from, but took a different series of turns, some of which seemed to go downhill, then veer sharply upward. They climbed for many minutes, until Daramon stopped at another set of doors. He spoke in Elvish to Haldir for long moments, and Nyara could do naught but stand and wait. Already she felt the fatigue seep into her limbs and saturate her mind with weariness. Just as she began to sway a bit, Daramon nodded politely to her and left them.
"He seemed very nice," she commented. "What did he have to say?"
Haldir cleared his throat, opened his mouth, and closed it again.
"What?" she demanded, beginning to feel nervous.
"Thranduil has stated that it would be his pleasure that we share this chamber tonight." As he finished Nyara would have sworn, if not for the low light in the chambers, that Haldir's cheeks flamed.
"Share?!" she squeaked. "You mean, both of us, in there?"
Haldir nodded.
Fighting for composure against the fact that in all her years she'd never even been in such close quarters with such a masculine demonstration of Elfkind, or Mankind for that matter, Nyara swallowed hard and managed a semblance of calm. "Well, that's alright. I will sleep on the floor." She tried to smile, but it came out as a trembly wobble of her lips rather than a cheeky grin.
Haldir shook his head. "Thranduil has strange ways. I imagine he has his reasons for these arrangements. But do not fret, Nyara. Your virtue is safe."
Her mouth dropped. "Oh, no. I, I didn't mean. Oh, no......" She sighed and raised her eyes to his beautiful crystalline ones. "I trust you with my life, Haldir."
He seemed taken aback by such a heartfelt statement. "I......thank you for your trust, Nyara." He cleared his throat again. "Elves do not sleep, so you may have the bed."
"You don't sleep?"
"No. We retreat in our minds to places of rest and rejuvenation. Oftentimes we will walk through the woods to do this, but in Thranduil's realm it is too dangerous. I will sit and rest, and when morning comes, I will be well rested."
Nyara found it hard to swallow, not sleeping, but nodded anyway. "Then let's go in," she said, trying without success to stifle a yawn. "I'm so tired, I'm about to fall asleep on my feet.
Haldir opened the door to the chamber and ushered Nyara inside. He closed it and turned around, nearly bumping into her. She stood frozen, rooted to the spot just inside the door, staring. "Is something wrong?"
"I've never seen a room so beautiful in all my life," she breathed.
And it was indeed so. This was one of the few luxuriously decorated guest rooms in Thranduil's palace. All the lines in stone were smooth and rounded, their color a soft muted silver gray that instantly took hold of Nyara's senses and soothed them. A large bed sat off to her right, so big that she would have to climb into it; so big that stretched out across it widthwise she would not be able to touch the ends with fingers or toes. The bed was made of a beautiful pale wood, almost the silver color of the walls. There were also a very beautiful chest for clothing and linens, a luxurious chair draped with a velvety material of deep emerald green, a large silver mirror, a table with two more chairs, and a large fireplace that crackled and snapped, filling the air with warmth.
"Thranduil spares nothing with his honored guests," Haldir explained, taking her shoulders and gently nudging her forward. "I will leave so you might change into something suitable for sleeping."
"It's alright, Haldir. I don't have anything to change into. I'll just sleep in my tunic and breeches." She longed to sleep unencumbered as she usually did, but it would not be appropriate to do so with Haldir in the room.
"Thranduil has already had garments sent up for you to wear," he explained, indicating the large chest.
"But how did he know what size?" she wondered aloud.
"Thranduil's people have magics that other Elves no longer retain. Even I do not know all his secrets." He turned back to her before he exited. "I will be directly outside, in case you need me."
And then he was gone.
Nyara turned back to the chest, and crossed the room toward it. Upon lifting the lid, she was greeted with a wide array of fabrics, all luxurious in themselves. Fur, silk, linen, a type of wool, soft leathers. She found the gown that looked most like a sleeping garment and pulled it out. It was a soft delicate white garment, woven in a gossamer pearl thread that made it seem to shine as she moved it about in the light cast from the fireplace. She was just about to unlace her tunic when Haldir knocked gently on the door.
She put the garment down. "Yes, Haldir?"
He poked his head in the door. "Daramon has just informed me that there is a bath through that door, if you are pleased to take one." He indicated a door carved into the stone room that Nyara hadn't even noticed before. Then he retreated from the doorway and closed it again.
Nyara rustled the fabric between her hands and fingers, delighting in its silkiness. A bath would be a wonderful thing. She felt grimy and unwashed, dirty from her travels. There was a council to be held in the morning. That settled her decision. She gathered the gown in her arms and pulled a long robe from the chest. It was made entirely of fur; so brilliantly white that when the flames from the fire danced across it it looked like fire on snow. She rubbed it under her chin, disbelieving the utter quality and softness of all the garments. Surely Thranduil did have magics of his own to produce these items.
Her bundle in her arms, Nyara set off through the door, where a hot bath was already drawn and steaming. Temptation was too strong, and she gave in. Her breeches, tunic and the rest of her garments were tossed on the floor haphazardly until she was bare, and she sank into the delightful stone pool up to her chin. The sigh that was half moan that escaped her lips was one of pure comfort and relaxation.
After several moments she opened her eyes and looked around. This room was very plain with no decorations save the stone pool and a wooden table beside it. Upon the table were all manner of bottles and flasks with what looked like oils in them. Curiosity got the best of her and she sampled the scents of each one, holding them to her nose and inhaling deeply. One particular scent caught her and she poured a small amount into the bath, not wanting to be greedy.
In an instant the room was filled with that sweet scent, calming her mind and relaxing her body. Her eyes fluttered closed and she heard no more until there came a soft rapping at the doorframe.
Drowsy, Nyara opened her eyes. "Haldir?"
"Yes, it's me. Daramon has brought up some of Thranduil's best wine at his request. It will give you deep sleep and pleasant dreams. It seems you could use a little of both," Haldir commented softly to himself as he withdrew back into the room.
Nyara emerged moments later clad in the white gown and wrapped in the fur robe. It was long and trailed a bit behind her, but she looked more Elf than Mortal to him then. There was a glow about her that filled him with hope... and something else more disturbing. He pushed it away and nodded to the table, where a tray had been laid out for them. Steaming meats and a bit of hot bread were there, along with a sweet honey. There were only two goblets, and each were full of the coveted Dorwinion wine that Thranduil so prized he gave it only to his guests and used it at his feasts.
"Sit," he suggested, pulling out the chair and ushering Nyara into it. He slid her close to the table and placed the goblet in her hand, along with a large piece of meat. "Eat if you can, and finish the wine. Then I bid you get some rest, for tomorrow will be a long day."
Obediently, Nyara bit into the meat, savoring the juicy flavor. Suddenly ravenous, she ate hefty portions of the meat and the bread before she managed to sit back and sip at her wine. Humiliation took her when she caught Haldir watching intently. "I am sorry. I didn't realize how hungry I was."
"When was the last time you ate?" he demanded. There was a sudden fire in his eyes, a dark kindling in those crystalline depths that had her wishing she was still asleep. She cleared her throat delicately and tried to remember.
"I believe it was......ah," she fought to remember the bleak days of riding from her home, running out of the meager food she had packed, as well as water. "My best guess is about two weeks past."
"Two weeks!" he exclaimed, not a shout of anger, but a quiet revelation. "And yet you spoke nothing of your hunger during your ride with me. Why?"
To this, Nyara had no answer. "I do not know. Perhaps because you had already saved my life and I dared not ask anything more."
Haldir simply stared at the young woman before him as she took another drink of the heady wine. If he had doubted Thranduil's words about Nyara being kin to Eowyn, he doubted them no longer. Two weeks' time without food would have broken any mortal Man he had ever known, save Aragorn, and perhaps Eomer. She was made of stern stuff, indeed.
"What are your thoughts about being descended from the White Lady of Rohan?" he asked her.
Nyara glanced at him over the rim of her goblet, eyes wide. She set it down and straightened in her chair. "I don't know. I don't feel any different. Maybe it hasn't sunk in yet, and I will feel different tomorrow. Or, maybe it makes no difference either way." She was speaking more to herself now than to him, digesting what Thranduil had told her.
"Tomorrow we'll begin your instruction with a sword. Fighting knives, too. It will be difficult, you understand." For some reason he felt uncomfortable speaking with her thus. It was almost too intimate.
"I understand, Haldir. I can learn."
Her eyes were eager, bright and ready to soak in all she could from him. The beginnings of something dangerous stirred within his deepest soul, something that threatened to change everything he'd ever known. He pushed it away and stood, straightening his robes. "You should get some sleep. Tomorrow is sure to be a trying day for you."
Nyara took a last swallow of her wine and stood. "You're right. I am a bit tired." She caught herself on a long yawn and swayed. Haldir was by her side in an instant, but she smiled and waved him away. "Thank you, Haldir. I think I will go to sleep."
It took some doing to climb up into the large bed. She slipped off the fur robe and laid it at the foot of the bed. Haldir picked it up and hung it on a hook and stood back while Nyara slipped beneath the warm coverings. She gazed up at him through sleepy lashes and managed a small smile. "Good night, Haldir. You really saved my life, you know."
And then she was gone, fast asleep in the land of dreams.
Haldir took a moment to study her face, so serene. "Good night, Nyara," he said. "Sleep well."
And that's all for now! I hope you enjoyed. I'll have more up later, covering Haldir teaching Nyara to fight (eep, that'll be scary), and Thranduil's plans for Umbrul. If you've got any ideas, feel free to send them to me at:
buffypeacheshotmail.com
Thanks again for reading!
RhianaRae