Poems are courtesy of Christopher Marlowe (Passionate Shepherd), and Sir Walter Raleigh (Nymph's Reply)
Thank you to all my lovely reviewers! Please remember to read and then review, I love all kinds of feedback, as long as they are not flames!
Chapter 4- A Passionate Elf To His Sort-of Love
Ten years later
She lifted her sword up, blocking Haldir's blow, that allowed her enough time so that she could roll to the side from her position lying on the ground. As quickly as she could, and just as Haldir was bringing his sword down again in his naturally effortless fashion, she jumped to her feet and blocked him again. However, she noticed that he had somehow worked her into a small grove of plants and trees, and was now standing with her back to the wall of thick tree trunks. Trying to move to the side to step out into the open, he stopped her as though he knew her movements before she even did. It was hard to tell now if that was just his deadly accurate intuition, or the fact that they had become so close over the past few years that he could read slightly into her intentions before she actually accomplished them.
Ducking down beneath the arm he had shot out to stop her, she moved carefully, but not fast enough as he held out the blunt edge of his sword at her lower legs so that she would trip over it. That sent her to her back, and her sword flying into the air. She reached for the dagger that Haldir had recently been schooling her on, but again he stopped her by catching her sword carefully and holding the blade it by the holster she kept the dagger in, and his own sword trained on her neck. Knowing that she was defeated, she lay back and caught her breath as Haldir loomed over her. With a wicked smile, he tossed her sword to the side and sheathed his own.
"You are getting to be much more difficult to best, Laereth," he said, looking down at her.
"Then you are doing what you promised," she said.
Haldir chuckled and wiped the sweat from his brow with the back of his hand, and offered the other one to help her to her feet. She smiled to herself, and took his hand, somehow managing to summon enough strength to flip him over onto his back. With the momentum of movement, she found herself kneeling on the ground beside him, so she placed a knee on his chest. He grimaced, "You ignore the principles of a fair fight."
"I never agreed to fight fairly," she replied, looking down at him.
"In that case," he said, heaving her onto her back and following along with his weight to hold her down. The wind was knocked out of her, and her head snapped against the hard ground, causing a shooting pain to travel up her skull. He placed his rather powerful thighs to either side of her legs and his hands on her shoulders to hold her still.
"We act no better than Cuileth and Rúmil," Laereth said, now looking up at his determined features.
"Sometimes I think they are better behaved than we are," Haldir said.
A long silence passed between them, neither needing or wanting to move from this position. She was fine to have him act as he was now, having to be better than her. This was his arena, and she was happy to let him have that. He deserved that much, especially after all of the changes that she had imposed upon him. He had changed considerably since the agreement of their continued support of each other. He still retained his highly arrogant and prideful ways, while becoming much more agreeable and all the more lethal with his often times sharp wit. But he had somehow developed a trait of being very set in his ways. She supposed that had to do with being a father figure, but there was no way of knowing for sure. Nevertheless, though, to put it all simply, he had become every elleth's dream ellon in Lórien, the brightest star in the March Warden's service, and the most loyal friend in all the wide world, besides his newfound love of being a brother.
And as much as she tried to hide to it, it was hard to really deny that her feelings were not solely that of a friend's any longer.
She did not know if he recognized that, though. It was obvious that there were times they both felt it, because they would often look at each other with worried expressions before turning away quickly and blushing. Aye, Haldir even blushed some of these times. Actually, most of these times he blushed, especially if the moment that would pass between them had involved a slight touch of skin to skin, or their hands to areas they should not normally be. Except, it was nothing more than they had done all their years as friends while running about and being carefree Elf-children. So, in a way, it boggled her mind that it could be so different now, when it was all the same as before.
And then again, she was not one to call it love, or at least the beginnings of love, either. She did not think it love. It was more than friendship, and less than a devotion of love. Perhaps is was just an infatuation they had with each other. It was not so difficult to imagine that the amount of time they spent together had something to do with their hyperawareness of each other. She found it very easy to be attracted to his handsome qualities, why could he not be similarly attracted to her more reputable endowments.
The fact that they had put aside their slight differences as friends for the sake of their respective siblings had also added to them seeing each other in different ways. But he was rather careless and wanton with his ways recently, and she saw how he acted around other ellyth. If it was not for that one thing, conceivably she could see more happening between them, but it was almost as though Haldir tried to mask his own feelings from her by going around and wooing other ellyth.
This predicament of her beneath him, surprisingly, was not one of those times it grew odd between them. It was when they would lock their gazes, and somehow find themselves entranced for a good amount of time before blushing and turning away….
Just like he was looking at her now. Her breath caught in her throat, seeing a flicker of something in his grey eyes. She swallowed hard, and realized that he was slowly lowering his head to hers, and by some magnetic force, was raising her own to meet his lips. All time stood still, and her mind went blank, unable to process what exactly was happening.
With some luck however, they were interrupted by the sounds of Elflings calling their names. Haldir jolted back from her, looking at her as though she had a second head, and jumped to his feet quickly. To the side of the field, she noticed Rúmil and Cuileth running toward them. She scrambled to her feet and went to pick up her sword. Sheathing it, she looked back as Haldir was just bending over to pick Cuileth up, only to dangle her over the ground but holding onto her legs. Laereth laughed at him and Cuileth's squeal. Cuileth always counted on Haldir to give her that one thrill whenever he was around. And Rúmil took a great delight in seeing his best friend being dangled like that as well.
"What were you two doing?" asked the ever-curious Rúmil.
Haldir began to answer, but he stumbled over his words, and looked to her to finish his thought. Nearly as bothered as he was, she almost could not think of an answer, but one came to her. She was sure it was gift form the Valar. Laereth joined them, "Haldir was only sparring with me, and he won, as usual."
"My big brother always wins!" Rúmil exclaimed.
Laereth laughed, and glanced at Haldir, who seemed very proud of himself that he had earned Rúmil's comment. She said, "Aye, he does seem to do that most of the time. But one of these days, we will find something that he is not so good at."
"You will never find anything!" Rúmil said even more enthusiastically.
And Cuileth piped in, now resting easily, perched in Haldir's arms, "That is what you think! My sister could beat your brother any day she wanted."
Laereth laughed, but saw the argument developing quickly, so she diffused it as best she could. "There are many things that Haldir is better at than I, you two. Fighting is one of those things. However, there are things in which I think I could do a sufficient job of beating him… like mending clothes… or writing a poem."
The Elflings seemed content with that answer, and Haldir placed Cuileth on the ground, "How about you two start up for my talan, and we will have the evening meal together this eve?"
Shouting a word of acceptance for his idea in unison, the two Elflings ran off to a set of stairs to lead them up into the trees. Laereth watched them go, until she felt an intense gaze directed at her. She turned toward Haldir, finding him looking her over carefully, and he smiled gently. Her mind then lurched to a stop in response to his lovely smile, and she said the only thing she could think of, "Thank you for volunteering for me preparing the meal this eve."
Haldir rolled his eyes, "Nay, I thought I would prepare the meal tonight. You do so much for me, and I never thank you enough for it."
"This should be interesting," she replied good naturedly, but could not help but note the sudden softness in his voice, and the hurt look on his face.
"I am better in the kitchen than you may think," he said.
"I know that," Laereth laughed. "I am only giving you a hard time."
Haldir was silent for a moment, and then let out a long sigh, "I suppose you will want to bathe before the meal?"
She smiled, "While you and your brothers may be heathens eating at the table covered in dirt and grime, I am not."
He chuckled then, "Fine… I shall see you soon then."
Laereth began the long ascent of her talan, each step she took becoming more and more painful as the day's exertions were slowly, but surely, catching up to her. It was the last blow she had taken that was the worst and the shooting pains up her side where not the best feelings in the world. But she decided to not think of them, hoping the warm bath she would prepare for herself would help the ache.
He worked quickly to prepare the stew before she arrived and to have time to go bathe himself. Though, he had no idea what he was doing. It was not that he did not know how to make the stew, but it was the fact he did not know why he was acting in such a way toward Laereth. Not only was he confused about his actions earlier in the day… when he had nearly kissed her… but now this sudden urge to please her for a change was all the more baffling to him. Sure, he knew that he owed Laereth so much for all that she had done all these years, and especially recently since their parents had gone, and he frequently let her know that. But this was different. He was doing this for different reasons that just a love of his very best friend… but it was not done in love for a possible mate either.
It was in an odd grey area he found himself… the same one he had found himself for these past ten years. He had noticed Laereth in her full glory, for the beauty she was both in form and in mind, but he did not think he felt the love necessary for any relationship to form. As it was, all of these feelings were complicating his vow to never bind with another, without complicating other things, like the dynamics of their 'family'. Sure, they could always have an in between relationship if he wished, where they delighted in the solidarity of their friendship while experimenting in ways of the flesh, and it would not be so looked down upon by the other Elves if he remained faithful to her while they both wished that sort of pairing.
But he had always tried to stay away from that idea… she deserved so much more than that, and he did not want to be the one to turn her away from the perfect life she so deserved.
Oh how this vexed him! He wished, nay, he yearned, to feel Laereth close to him in his carnal desires, and yet he was too loyal and noble an Elf to hurt her in such a way. Sometimes he wished things could just be slightly more clear to him, so that he would know what path take, and he would not have to spend long nights awake and restless trying to figure this out himself. Perhaps tonight would be the night he broached the subject with her… because he saw no way around not explaining himself earlier about pinning her to ground and nearly kissing her.
Haldir pulled himself from his bath quickly, dried and dressed himself. He walked out into the main chamber area where Rúmil and Cuileth were busy playing with their playthings, and Orophin worked diligently at trying to figure out a difficult wooden puzzle. Haldir laughed at Orophin's expression. Even though he was now ten years older, he still worked so intensely that it required his tongue to stick out part of the way. Checking the meal, and deciding that it was fine for the time being, he walked back over to the lounge and sat down, soon having an Elfling in his lap, and one beside him, looking up at him expectantly.
"Where is my sister?" asked Cuileth.
"She went to bathe, but she will be here soon," Haldir replied with a smile, brushing some of her wispy pale hair from her face.
"Will you tell us a story?" asked Rúmil.
He pursed his lips together and chuckled, "I do not know any good stories, you know that. Laereth is the story writer of both of us, and can tell them much better than I."
"I know," Rúmil said. "I just hoped you had one."
Haldir felt as though Rúmil was truly let down, so he grumbled to himself before sighing heavily, "How about a poem?"
"Please?" Cuileth's eyes widened with anticipation. The door to the talan creaked open then, and Laereth entered. He glanced to the side, finding her there, and looking particularly lovely in the lavender gown he found most wonderful on her body because the neckline dipped just low enough, and was just filmy enough that he could nearly know what the things beneath looked like. And her soft, long hair lay loose about her face… he knew then that this night would be different than all the others they had shared the evening meal together.
"Sit down, Laereth!" Rúmil commanded. "Haldir is just about to tell us a poem."
Laereth raised a curious brow as she walked over to the chaise and picked Rúmil up so she could sit, and placed him on her lap. "You say your brother is about to recite a poem? I do believe this world will soon be coming to an end."
"I am not a complete savage, I know some poetry," Haldir replied with a smile.
"And what is this poem called?" she asked.
"The Passionate Shepherd to His Love," Haldir said.
Laereth chuckled, "A poem of Men? Please, by all means, go ahead."
Haldir sighed and looked between Cuileth and Rúmil before beginning:
Come live with me and be my love,
And we will all the pleasures prove
That valleys, groves, hills, and fields,
Woods or sleepy mountain yields.
And we will sit upon the rocks,
Seeing the shepherds feed their flocks,
By shallow rivers to whose falls
Melodious birds sing madrigals.
And I will make thee beds of roses
And a thousand fragrant posies,
A cap of flowers, and a kirtle
Embroidered all with leaves of myrtle;
A gown made of the finest wool
Which from our pretty lambs we pull;
Fair lined slippers for the cold,
With buckles of the purest gold;
A belt of straw and ivy buds,
With coral clasps and amber studs:
And if these pleasures may thee move,
Come live with me and be my love.
The shepherds' swains shall dance and sing
For thy delight each May morning:
If these delights thy mind may move,
Then live with me and be my love.
After he was finished, the Elflings were mesmerized that Haldir had actually recalled the poem from the deep recesses of his mind. He smiled triumphantly and glanced at Laereth who only chuckled. She sighed, "Perhaps you would like to hear the Nymph's Reply?"
"There is a response from a nymph?" Rúmil asked.
She laughed and nodded her head, beginning with a deep breath:
If all the world and love were young,
And truth in every shepherd's tongue,
These pretty pleasures might me move
To live with thee and be thy love.
Time drives the flocks from field to fold
When rivers rage and rocks grow cold,
And Philomel becometh dumb;
The rest complains of cares to come.
The flowers do fade, and wanton fields
To wayward winter reckoning yields;
A honey tongue, a heart of gall,
Is fancy's spring, but sorrow's fall.
The gowns, thy shoes, thy beds of roses,
Thy cap, thy kirtle, and thy posies
Soon break, soon wither, soon forgotten,—
In folly ripe, in reason rotten.
Thy belt of straw and ivy buds,
Thy coral clasps and amber studs,
All these in me no means can move
To come to thee and be thy love.
But could youth last and love still breed,
Had joys no date nor age no need,
Then these delights my mind might move
To live with thee and be thy love.
"Why does the nymph not want to be with the shepherd?" asked Cuileth.
Laereth smiled, "Because the things he promises her are short term things, like the bed of roses and posies, even for that of the race of Men. The clasps of coral for her dress would soon snap, and the wool is very rough to her skin. She does not think it a wise thing for her to give her heart. And at the end she remarks that he only fancies her for her beauty and youth."
"Oh," Cuileth said and nodded her head, thinking about it for a little bit. "I am glad I am not a nymph, and that I am edhel so that I need not worry about youth or beauty."
Haldir laughed at her, and Laereth chuckled, looking at her sister. "It is a cautionary tale to all who read it. If an ellon ever promises you things like that, I would hope you would take a moment to think it through before running off with him. But that is a long while from now, so we need not worry."
Laereth glanced up at him, and he nodded his head, saying, "Aye, now it is time to eat."
As he was lifting Cuileth off his lap and placing her feet to the ground, he noticed that Laereth grimaced slightly as she lifted Rúmil off of her own lap. He knew he had gone too rough on her today, but she had seemed to take the beating well despite that fact, but now he felt ashamed that he had hurt her so. Later he would ask her if he could practice his newly-learned healing techniques on her injuries. It was the least he could try to do for her. He just hoped she would allow him to do that.
edhel- elf