Happy Independence Day, even to you who aren't American! I love this holiday. It's right up there with Christmas, Easter, and St. Patrick's Day. And, in honor of one of my favorite holidays, a new chapter! (Partially to make up for the wait for part seven... but also because it's the day that it is.) :-}
I must say that this chapter was much more fun to write; quite frankly, I'm getting tired of a grieving Adariel, because it's so opposite her normal self. (I've known Adariel for quite some time, in case you can't tell, lol.) It's fun to even make her get all waspish! shakes head I'm pathetic, aren't I?
^*^
The Dark Star
Part Eight
Memorial
Adariel had changed into a black velvet gown with silvery gray embroidery at the scoop neckline, sleeve hems, and the skirt hem. Her black veil was held in place with a circlet that was more of a pale gray than silver, and her dark hair framed her face under the veil. Somehow, someone had pulled up properly somber attire for the Lothlórien visitors.
She stepped forward slowly, nearing the large stone platform on which laid her brother, wearing dark velvet, his face stern and his eyes closed, looking very much the opposite of his normal, cheery self. Very much the opposite of his *living* self.
Normally she would have approached after her parents, with her sister. But her parents were long since gone, and her sister's fate unknown, and so she neared Nurardaion's body totally alone. Celebnoviel would approach behind her with Elencaran, and behind them, Elrond, Arwen, Elladan, and Elrohir. Then, of course, came friends, more distant relative, and the end was reserved for those who didn't truly know the deceased, just wanted to pay their respects.
The technicalities helped at first, but soon there were no more technicalities to think of, and she was hit with the awful truth:
Nurardaion of Imladris, son of Nimrómen and Avarlemmeniel, was dead. She had known this for some time, but standing near the large pulpit made of cold, hard stone, wearing the dark velvet mourning gown as the gentle wind tossed about her gown, veil, and hair, standing in her home as she stared at his unmoving form, made it real. All at once she couldn't pretend that this was just a horrible nightmare.
Everything in her world was extra sharp, extra real. Every gaze, from the impassive ones to the sympathetic to the outright pitying, were like knives that were unwittingly being thrust hilt-deep into her conscience, and every sob was another stone to the weight of her guilt.
Adariel longed to stop, turn, and hide within the circle of protection given her by her 'second family,' but somehow fought the impulse, knowing that she had no right to request protection. Celebnoviel didn't run and hide, and she must have felt ten-fold of Adariel's own grief. And so she instead stepped forward, lifting her veil, until she was next to the pulpit.
Instinctively she reached out and stroked his brow. Nurar wasn't supposed to by lying there. In fact, the three were supposed to still be in Lórien. But what was supposed to have been, wasn't. And it all came down to the choices of Adariel.
Had she been in the mood for even sardonic laughter, she might have let out a sarcastic laugh. Had she not sent the horses away, and with them her supplies, Nurardaion could have been alive, leading the hunt for Aradalien; she had the skill and supplies for treating mortal wounds, so long as they were treated immediately. But as it was, she *had* send the horses away.
It had been for the best, or so she had thought at the time. The orcs would have killed the horses first; they were not only easy prey for the monsters, but the death of Gil-luin and the others would have cut off the Elves' escape totally. At least with the horses gone temporarily, Adariel had thought, not only would they be able to get away eventually, but their horses would still have been alive in the first place. And so she had freed them as soon as she could.
Stupid move. Though she hadn't thought of it at the time, with perfect hindsight Adariel realized that they probably had had enough time to make a narrow escape... if they'd had the horses. Not only that, but she also realized, with perfect hindsight, all of the horses would more than likely have been able to defend themselves for at least a short time, while the three siblings gained the upper hand.
Unbidden and unnoticed by Adariel, a single tear slid down her cheek, but her tears were not the uncontrolled sobs that she had longed to release for so long. They were the gentle trickle of those who felt as if they couldn't, or shouldn't, shed tears.
Knowing that she had to move, Adariel pulled her hand away and folded both in front of her as she moved around to the head of the stony pulpit, instead of traditionally moving to stand in the background while the others moved forward in their turn. Roughly a yard from the head of the platform, she stood as if made of stone herself, staring absently at the platform as the occasional tear slid slowly down her cheeks.
Noviel came forward and after her turn, watched Adariel worriedly for a moment before taking her place in the background.
And thus Adariel stood until there was no one left, and once again she felt alone. Arwen had touched her arm earlier, but she had vaguely shook her head and waved the Undómiel away. But finally she relented, and walked back the House of Elrond to eat dinner with her 'second family,' a dinner she hardly even looked at.
^*^
Uncomfortable in borrowed clothes and wondering why he hadn't already made arrangements to leave Rivendell with the morning's first light, Haldir wandered through the gardens, looking both absent yet purposeful; the Marchwarden of Lórien never lost control over his mind enough to look absent minded, never lost his control.
Suddenly realizing what, exactly, he was doing as he turned a corner with the small path, Haldir made to turn, not exactly comfortable with wandering a place that wasn't his home, when he found that he had, somehow, found his way to Nurardaion's memorial place.
The moon also revealed to him that he wasn't alone. A dark figure, whose clothing fluttered in the breeze, was standing at the head of the pulpit, looking very much like a stone statue, so much was the lack of movement. He couldn't guess who it was; he already knew.
He approached carefully, as if he was almost afraid she was realize who neared her and would turn and run. Soon he was standing near the platform, and Adariel had yet to move.
"It doesn't due to dwell on death, my Lady," Haldir suddenly said quietly, as if he was afraid to disturb the silence any more than he dared.
"No one need concern themselves with what I dwell on," she replied vaguely, just as quiet as Haldir had been.
"Apparently, you cannot see what I can," he pointed out delicately, his voice still low. "Lord Elrond and his children are clearly concerned, as are many others. Lady Celebnoviel-"
"I deserve nothing from her," she said suddenly, though her voice was hardly above a whisper. "I deserve nothing from anyone."
Haldir frowned. Were her thoughts so clouded by guilt that she had yet to see that which was obvious? "Do you honestly believe that?" he asked, almost disbelievingly.
"Yes."
"I do not," he answered bluntly. "Taking appropriate blame is one thing, my Lady, but taking all blame when not all blame belongs to you is another entirely."
Suddenly she whirled. "What do *you* know of the circumstances? Nothing!" she snapped.
Haldir drew himself up instinctively. "In that, you are correct," he replied stiffly. "But I do know that there was no possible way for you to be entirely to blame for his death, not unless you killed him yourself. Which I find, my Lady, very hard to believe."
"You, Marchwarden, do not realized that nearly all of the circumstances were in my power!" Adariel retorted.
"And you do not realize, Morelen, that there were other factors that partook in this," Haldir said impatiently. Yes, she was blind, but she wouldn't be so for long!
"Really?" she demanded harshly. The voices of both had long since abandoned the reverent quietness, and were now swiftly nearing argument level. "And what may those be, if I may be so bold as to ask?"
"Did you know that orcs would attack?" he asked roughly, but he didn't wait for an answer, providing it himself. "No. Did you fire the arrow that was your brother's death stroke? No. Did you cause your sister to disappear? No."
"Did I refuse an escort? Yes," she snapped, uncharacteristically snarling once more, just as she had to Rumíl. "Did I run from Imladris so quickly that I didn't bother listening to the scouts' reports of orc-activity? Yes. Did I make the wrong decisions at the wrong time? Yes. My brother was needed, and I failed him!"
"And you are not?" Haldir demanded harshly. "Despite whatever you may believe, I am not blind, Lady Adariel Morelen. You are important to these people, but quite clearly you *are* blind, if you cannot see it. Or did you really think that you survived that attack merely by chance?"
Despite the veil over her face, she looked rather astonished, as if she hadn't thought of the idea, and Haldir took his chance while she was still speechless. "Simply because you *believe* that you're at fault does not immediately mean that you truly *are* to blame," he continued, once again quiet. "And many are afraid that if you don't realize who and what you are to the Elves of Imladris soon, you'll never remember. Then you'd be lost to them forever."
A profound silence rang clearly after he'd finished, and suddenly Haldir found himself wishing that he'd said nothing, yet at the same time wishing that there was more he could say. There was one thing that was painfully clear even to Haldir himself:
If Adariel continued in this way, she would eventually kill herself with grief.
"How do you know this?" she asked quietly, sounding thoroughly stunned.
He graced her with a rare semi-smile. "As I said previously, my Lady, I am not as blind as you may believe me to be."
She looked away, then said after a moment. "Apparently so, Marchwarden. My... my apologies for my rudeness. It was uncalled for. Now, Lord Haldir, if I may beg your pardon, I have an urgent matter I need to attend to."
And with that she curtsied slightly and left, the wind tossing about the gown and veil as she disappeared into the darkness.
^*^
She was needed? Thought hadn't occurred to her. But was she *truly* needed, like Haldir claimed? Adariel wasn't sure, and she wasn't about to ask. Perhaps she was, what then? The thought that she might actually *need* to remain in Rivendell, for the good of its people, had never crossed her mind in the slightest.
She approached Rumíl, who sat before Elladan, on the other side of a chess board, and said quietly, "Lord Rumíl, could I speak with you for a moment?"
Elladan grinned at her as Rumíl did, and the Sentinel stood. Adariel led him away from Elladan and the chess board, gathering herself. She turned to face him squarely, as if to prove her sincerity.
"I apologize for what I said to you near Moria," she told him quietly. "You were in no way deserving of my comments, and by all rights should have buffeted me in some way." Well, striking her in some what was, more than likely, something her mother would have done.
"You needn't apologize. You felt the need to defend yourself, and you did. Anyone else would have done the same, no one can blame you for it. Though I feel that I must add that there are very few people who would strike your for so small a reason, least of all myself," he told her, not unkindly.
She frowned self-deprecatingly. "Perhaps you should have; you could have done me a favor and knocked me into a state that at least *resembled* sensibility," she said dryly.
To her pleasure (and shock), Rumíl laughed. "You needn't bother," he replied, waving her offer away. "But I do have a chess gave to win, so I'm afraid I'll have to beg your pardon and request your company at another time."
She gave him a smile. "Of course."
Adariel turned as he went back to Elladan and his game, the smile quickly fading. Confusion, grief, guilt, it all swirled around until her mind was little more than a wrung cloth, and so Adariel went to her waiting chambers, changed into nightclothes, and retired early.
^*^
Adariel looked very much the opposite of her 'uncle' Elrond in her dove gray, cotton gown, her hair half pulled back and braided and twisted into elaborate shapes at the back of her head while two locks fell down in front of her ears to frame her face. Her 'uncle,' however, wore robes in colors that reminded Adariel strongly of a clear day in mid-winter, full of whites and pale blues, the darkest being a pretty cerulean blue.
She sat on the opposite side of the table, eating - or rather, picking at - her breakfast, their silence companionable.
"Uncle," she said suddenly, her eyes not leaving her plate, "am I needed here?"
"Of course," Elrond replied, as though it was obvious. "Why do you ask?"
"No reason," Adariel replied, sidestepping the question rather clumsily, but well enough to get by. "I was just wondering."
Elrond smiled at her. "Must I list your credentials? Lead Healer, Head Librarian, assistant midwife, unofficial care-taker of the children, aunt, friend, sister-by-marriage, daughter-"
Adariel couldn't help a small, soft laugh. "Uncle, you know that my parents have long since gone across the sea."
His smile was bittersweet, but when she blinked, not quite believing what she saw (it wasn't exactly a common response to such a statement), the look had left his face by the time her eyes were opened once more.
"All the same, my dear," he continued, refilling her glass of water for her, "you are much to many here. Of course you're needed."
Adariel didn't reply, sipping from her glass thoughtfully instead. She had to wonder, would her brother have wanted her to waste herself away with grief and guilt? It was highly doubtful; he was such an practical person that she doubted he would have been happy with *that* arrangement for an instant. As for Aradalien-
Aradalien. She was still missing!
"Elrond, what about Aradalien?" she asked suddenly. "We never found her..."
The Elf-Lord's face swiftly went from congenial to contemplative and stern. "I'll send out a search party of some kind." He paused, and his expression softened. "You realize, that we may be... too late, don't you?"
She nodded, though she looked as if it was one of her worst fears. "Yes, I realize that." She hesitated a moment, then said, "I want to be apart of the search party."
"Out of the question, Adariel," firmly, but not unkindly. "I'll not have you suffer the same fate as Aradalien."
She fought to roll her eyes. Why Elrond never said 'your twin' or 'your sister' was beyond her. But it *was* rather odd, because she had *never* heard him say it. Not once in her entire existence.
"I would be with others, not alone. Several others, in fact," she protested, but she knew it was a lost cause; once Elrond put his foot down, there would be little one could to change his mind.
Instead of replying, the Elf-Lord stood, walked around the table, and took both of her hands in his. "Morelen, I know that you wish to help, but I cannot risk you being gravely wounded or worse." He sounded genuinely concerned, and he was, but Adariel would only grudgingly admit it.
Adariel sighed. "I know. Though you can't blame me for trying."
He grinned at her. "No, I can't," was the quiet reply.
Adariel paused thoughtfully, then asked, "How *are* things at the infirmary?"
^*^
Adariel was reorganizing the shelf of herbs that were antidotes for poisonous plants when light footsteps entered the infirmary. True, it took very strong poison to injury, let alone kill, and Elf, but being prepared never hurt. Children in particular were prone to accidentally eating the wrong sort of berry or whatnot.
She looked up to see Celebnoviel standing in the doorway and looking rather awkward and apprehensive, Elencaran wrapped in blankets in her arms.
Reasonably anxious herself, Adariel rocked back onto her heels, a streak of dust on her right cheek, as she looked up at her sister-by-marriage. Neither looked away, though both wanted to, until Noviel finally said, with slightly overbright eyes, "He loved you, you know. For all you and Aradalien were twins, he still looked to you as his baby sister who needed protecting."
It was that comment, bred of pure intentions, that was just short of Adariel's undoing. Her throat locked and her chest tightened, but the worst constriction was the band around her heart, squeezing so tightly she thought it might burst.
Adariel shook her head, forcing a watery smile onto her face. "However much he loved me, he loved you ten-fold. You and El," she added, glancing at her niece before meeting the eyes of the girl's mother once more.
To her astonishment, Noviel walked over and knelt beside her on the floor. "Perhaps," she said quietly, "but you were always special. You would have had to hear him talk about you to truly grasp it."
She gave a chuckle, but it was just as watery as her smile, but her grin *did* solidify slightly. "Me? You should have heard him talk about you and El; eventually the men in his unit learned to block him out, or so I've heard."
Noviel smiled back, then handed Adariel her niece. "She's missed you. I can tell." Adariel looked at her rather skeptically, and so Nurardaion's wife informed her, "Maternal instinct. Which is something that you have, believe it or not."
Adariel wrinkled her nose at Noviel at the tease, but smiled as she did so. "I only have 'maternal instinct' because of all the examples given to me as I was growing up."
"Because your mother seemed to lack said instinct," Noviel finished, but suddenly her rather teasing expression became concerned and almost desperate. "I've heard... rumors, that you've been blaming yourself for... about Nurardaion. Please, don't do that. You should have heard him before you left, going on about you offering to go out on your own. He was dead set on protecting you, to the point that he told me that I may have to go with you, but in the end we decided that it wouldn't be good for El. You never forced him to leave, Adariel. He chose to go on his own."
"I would have killed him myself had he brought you and El," she said quietly, staring at the ground. "Your safety - yours and El's - would have been in extreme jeopardy. I would never have stood for that, particularly since El is so young."
"Precisely the reason he told me to stay."
Adariel didn't reply, and Noviel didn't continue. Both sat in silence, until El cooed up at her aunt, who seemed to come suddenly out of her reverie. But after a moment she reluctantly relinquished the child back to her mother. But Noviel hesitated, then said, "So long as we're here, is there anything we can do to help."
Her smile grew slowly, but in the end was the brightest grin anyone had seen from her in nearly a month. Though Adariel had originally intended to spend the day alone, the sudden prospect of company seemed to make the day seem less like a chore, which was actually the exact opposite of what her tendencies had been as of late. As such, she wasn't at all inclined to risk her friendship with Noviel, particularly since the she-Elf didn't seem to blame her for her husband's death.
"This area of the infirmary seems to have fallen into a... less than desirable state, since my departure, and I could very well have use for aid to help get it back up to working order."
Noviel beamed at her, stood, and said, "I'll start with the personal chambers, then?"
^*^
Roughly two hours later, Adariel had decided that perhaps things were nearly back to normal. Or perchance it was because she was too busy to grieve or send herself through austere journeys of guilt. Either way, when a soft knock brought her from rehanging curtains that had recently been shaken free of dust, she was rather surprised.
"What, pray, is going on in here?" Elrohir teased her, clearly attempting to remain lighthearted for her benefit. (Surprising herself, Adariel found that she appreciated it.) "Have you sent my father's infirmary into a severe state of disarray again?"
"Of course," she quipped, playing along. "What else might I do here? Heal?"
"Surely not!" Elrohir exclaimed in mock surprise. Catching sight of Noviel, he asked sternly, "Are you keeping this she-knave in hand, Mistress Celebnoviel?"
"Naturally," she replied, not missing a beat.
But Elrohir quickly sobered. "I'm needed in the courtyard; the search party is leaving momentarily."
Adariel dropped the second set of curtains and spun to face him dead on. Elrohir nodded to them both and proceeded down the corridor, but Adariel followed swiftly, Noviel doing the same.
Noviel went over with the 'Queen of the Kitchens,' Mal, who also happened to be her mother (Mal was a whirl wind when baking and creating food; Adariel had learned everything she knew from her.) Mal took a hold of her grandchild as Adariel went to stand beside Arwen.
"I take it," she said with the hint of a smile, "that Celebnoviel isn't as upset with you as you would have thought?" Adariel stuck her tongue out at her, and Arwen did the exact same in return.
Back in his own clothes (and quite thankful for that), Haldir stood near the entry way as the other members of the search party said their good-byes. None of the three had really planned on joining the hung for Aradalien, but it made sense that they did; they were already this far involved in the family of the Morelen, they may as well help.
But when Adariel came out into the courtyard, followed by Celebnoviel, Haldir couldn't help but feel a bit pleased with himself, though he didn't outwardly show it. She was smile, and although it wasn't a big smile, it was a smile nonetheless, and something told him that all that blather he'd told her the night before had actually had an impact.
Adariel had said that the only person she could possibly be confused with was Aradalien, but as she stood next to Arwen Undómiel, he couldn't help but feel that she had been mistaken. Yes, he'd never seen Aradalien, but the resemblance between the Adariel and the Evenstar was rather remarkable.
That thought faded as Adariel's smile did, however, and was replaced by a look of fear-bordering-terror when she was once more approached by that Elf - what had his name been? - Dimalphion.
"Really, my Lady, first you were grieving, and now your childish. Do you intend to keep everyone guess as to the emotions you have toward your brother's death and sister's disappearance?"
She paled and moved back a step, but Arwen gripped her arm reassuringly, glaring at him. It was then, as Dimalphion's smirk turned into a full-fledged malicious grin, that Haldir realized that he knew Adariel was terrified of him. The truly sickening part of it was that he relished in it, basking in her fear of him like a snake in the sun.
Elladan and Elrohir both came up to flank the two Elf-maidens, and if harsh looks could kill, Dimalphion would have died twice over.
"Dimalphion," Elladan said coldly, "I believe you have better places to be. Or did you not understand what we told you last night?"
Elrohir took a threatening step forward. "If we find you near Adariel - or anyone close to her - again, you won't live to see the light of another day."
He glared at them both, the gave a mocking bow. "As you wish," and then as gone.
The relief on Adariel's face at his leaving was almost frightening. "Why," she said, her words oddly forced, "can he not just leave me alone? Has he not done enough?"
"Because he can elicit a response from you," Arwen answered. "Do not give him a response and he'll not bother you."
"That's a rather difficult task, believe it or not," she snapped. "*You* try to remain emotionless after... what he did."
"It's all right, Adariel," Elrohir said. "He come near you again and we'll make good on our promise, don't worry."
Elladan and Elrohir both nodded to them and went to join the rest of the search party assembled before them. Adariel shook her head.
"I may have expected something like that from Elrohir, but from Elladan as well? Elladan isn't nearly so rash as his twin."
"He can be," Arwen pointed out, but Adariel's attention was already lost. Not far from where she stood, amongst the rest of the search party, stood the Marchwarden, looking quite ready for travel.
Adariel wasn't sure what she was supposed to feel about that. She was grateful, certainly, but there was something else there. Puzzlement? Doubtful; that was probably just an offspring of her own confusion. Then what was it? Or perhaps the more pressing question was, did she want to know?
Feeling her eyes, Haldir looked up, but she didn't look away. She nodded ever so slightly, and after a moment he nodded back, and Adariel hoped that he'd received the message she'd been trying to convey:
'Thank you.'
^*^
That chapter was really fun to write! Wow... Personally, I thought it was written much better than part seven. Probably because I didn't have to drag myself through the heaviest grief I've ever seen, let alone written about! There'll probably be a major time lapse at the beginning of the next chapter; Haldir and co. will probably be gone about a month, and that month would be pretty boring to read about, now wouldn't it? Well, I've taken enough of you guys' time, so I'm off! Remember to tell me what you think!
Love and hugs from
Carlee
I must say that this chapter was much more fun to write; quite frankly, I'm getting tired of a grieving Adariel, because it's so opposite her normal self. (I've known Adariel for quite some time, in case you can't tell, lol.) It's fun to even make her get all waspish! shakes head I'm pathetic, aren't I?
^*^
The Dark Star
Part Eight
Memorial
Adariel had changed into a black velvet gown with silvery gray embroidery at the scoop neckline, sleeve hems, and the skirt hem. Her black veil was held in place with a circlet that was more of a pale gray than silver, and her dark hair framed her face under the veil. Somehow, someone had pulled up properly somber attire for the Lothlórien visitors.
She stepped forward slowly, nearing the large stone platform on which laid her brother, wearing dark velvet, his face stern and his eyes closed, looking very much the opposite of his normal, cheery self. Very much the opposite of his *living* self.
Normally she would have approached after her parents, with her sister. But her parents were long since gone, and her sister's fate unknown, and so she neared Nurardaion's body totally alone. Celebnoviel would approach behind her with Elencaran, and behind them, Elrond, Arwen, Elladan, and Elrohir. Then, of course, came friends, more distant relative, and the end was reserved for those who didn't truly know the deceased, just wanted to pay their respects.
The technicalities helped at first, but soon there were no more technicalities to think of, and she was hit with the awful truth:
Nurardaion of Imladris, son of Nimrómen and Avarlemmeniel, was dead. She had known this for some time, but standing near the large pulpit made of cold, hard stone, wearing the dark velvet mourning gown as the gentle wind tossed about her gown, veil, and hair, standing in her home as she stared at his unmoving form, made it real. All at once she couldn't pretend that this was just a horrible nightmare.
Everything in her world was extra sharp, extra real. Every gaze, from the impassive ones to the sympathetic to the outright pitying, were like knives that were unwittingly being thrust hilt-deep into her conscience, and every sob was another stone to the weight of her guilt.
Adariel longed to stop, turn, and hide within the circle of protection given her by her 'second family,' but somehow fought the impulse, knowing that she had no right to request protection. Celebnoviel didn't run and hide, and she must have felt ten-fold of Adariel's own grief. And so she instead stepped forward, lifting her veil, until she was next to the pulpit.
Instinctively she reached out and stroked his brow. Nurar wasn't supposed to by lying there. In fact, the three were supposed to still be in Lórien. But what was supposed to have been, wasn't. And it all came down to the choices of Adariel.
Had she been in the mood for even sardonic laughter, she might have let out a sarcastic laugh. Had she not sent the horses away, and with them her supplies, Nurardaion could have been alive, leading the hunt for Aradalien; she had the skill and supplies for treating mortal wounds, so long as they were treated immediately. But as it was, she *had* send the horses away.
It had been for the best, or so she had thought at the time. The orcs would have killed the horses first; they were not only easy prey for the monsters, but the death of Gil-luin and the others would have cut off the Elves' escape totally. At least with the horses gone temporarily, Adariel had thought, not only would they be able to get away eventually, but their horses would still have been alive in the first place. And so she had freed them as soon as she could.
Stupid move. Though she hadn't thought of it at the time, with perfect hindsight Adariel realized that they probably had had enough time to make a narrow escape... if they'd had the horses. Not only that, but she also realized, with perfect hindsight, all of the horses would more than likely have been able to defend themselves for at least a short time, while the three siblings gained the upper hand.
Unbidden and unnoticed by Adariel, a single tear slid down her cheek, but her tears were not the uncontrolled sobs that she had longed to release for so long. They were the gentle trickle of those who felt as if they couldn't, or shouldn't, shed tears.
Knowing that she had to move, Adariel pulled her hand away and folded both in front of her as she moved around to the head of the stony pulpit, instead of traditionally moving to stand in the background while the others moved forward in their turn. Roughly a yard from the head of the platform, she stood as if made of stone herself, staring absently at the platform as the occasional tear slid slowly down her cheeks.
Noviel came forward and after her turn, watched Adariel worriedly for a moment before taking her place in the background.
And thus Adariel stood until there was no one left, and once again she felt alone. Arwen had touched her arm earlier, but she had vaguely shook her head and waved the Undómiel away. But finally she relented, and walked back the House of Elrond to eat dinner with her 'second family,' a dinner she hardly even looked at.
^*^
Uncomfortable in borrowed clothes and wondering why he hadn't already made arrangements to leave Rivendell with the morning's first light, Haldir wandered through the gardens, looking both absent yet purposeful; the Marchwarden of Lórien never lost control over his mind enough to look absent minded, never lost his control.
Suddenly realizing what, exactly, he was doing as he turned a corner with the small path, Haldir made to turn, not exactly comfortable with wandering a place that wasn't his home, when he found that he had, somehow, found his way to Nurardaion's memorial place.
The moon also revealed to him that he wasn't alone. A dark figure, whose clothing fluttered in the breeze, was standing at the head of the pulpit, looking very much like a stone statue, so much was the lack of movement. He couldn't guess who it was; he already knew.
He approached carefully, as if he was almost afraid she was realize who neared her and would turn and run. Soon he was standing near the platform, and Adariel had yet to move.
"It doesn't due to dwell on death, my Lady," Haldir suddenly said quietly, as if he was afraid to disturb the silence any more than he dared.
"No one need concern themselves with what I dwell on," she replied vaguely, just as quiet as Haldir had been.
"Apparently, you cannot see what I can," he pointed out delicately, his voice still low. "Lord Elrond and his children are clearly concerned, as are many others. Lady Celebnoviel-"
"I deserve nothing from her," she said suddenly, though her voice was hardly above a whisper. "I deserve nothing from anyone."
Haldir frowned. Were her thoughts so clouded by guilt that she had yet to see that which was obvious? "Do you honestly believe that?" he asked, almost disbelievingly.
"Yes."
"I do not," he answered bluntly. "Taking appropriate blame is one thing, my Lady, but taking all blame when not all blame belongs to you is another entirely."
Suddenly she whirled. "What do *you* know of the circumstances? Nothing!" she snapped.
Haldir drew himself up instinctively. "In that, you are correct," he replied stiffly. "But I do know that there was no possible way for you to be entirely to blame for his death, not unless you killed him yourself. Which I find, my Lady, very hard to believe."
"You, Marchwarden, do not realized that nearly all of the circumstances were in my power!" Adariel retorted.
"And you do not realize, Morelen, that there were other factors that partook in this," Haldir said impatiently. Yes, she was blind, but she wouldn't be so for long!
"Really?" she demanded harshly. The voices of both had long since abandoned the reverent quietness, and were now swiftly nearing argument level. "And what may those be, if I may be so bold as to ask?"
"Did you know that orcs would attack?" he asked roughly, but he didn't wait for an answer, providing it himself. "No. Did you fire the arrow that was your brother's death stroke? No. Did you cause your sister to disappear? No."
"Did I refuse an escort? Yes," she snapped, uncharacteristically snarling once more, just as she had to Rumíl. "Did I run from Imladris so quickly that I didn't bother listening to the scouts' reports of orc-activity? Yes. Did I make the wrong decisions at the wrong time? Yes. My brother was needed, and I failed him!"
"And you are not?" Haldir demanded harshly. "Despite whatever you may believe, I am not blind, Lady Adariel Morelen. You are important to these people, but quite clearly you *are* blind, if you cannot see it. Or did you really think that you survived that attack merely by chance?"
Despite the veil over her face, she looked rather astonished, as if she hadn't thought of the idea, and Haldir took his chance while she was still speechless. "Simply because you *believe* that you're at fault does not immediately mean that you truly *are* to blame," he continued, once again quiet. "And many are afraid that if you don't realize who and what you are to the Elves of Imladris soon, you'll never remember. Then you'd be lost to them forever."
A profound silence rang clearly after he'd finished, and suddenly Haldir found himself wishing that he'd said nothing, yet at the same time wishing that there was more he could say. There was one thing that was painfully clear even to Haldir himself:
If Adariel continued in this way, she would eventually kill herself with grief.
"How do you know this?" she asked quietly, sounding thoroughly stunned.
He graced her with a rare semi-smile. "As I said previously, my Lady, I am not as blind as you may believe me to be."
She looked away, then said after a moment. "Apparently so, Marchwarden. My... my apologies for my rudeness. It was uncalled for. Now, Lord Haldir, if I may beg your pardon, I have an urgent matter I need to attend to."
And with that she curtsied slightly and left, the wind tossing about the gown and veil as she disappeared into the darkness.
^*^
She was needed? Thought hadn't occurred to her. But was she *truly* needed, like Haldir claimed? Adariel wasn't sure, and she wasn't about to ask. Perhaps she was, what then? The thought that she might actually *need* to remain in Rivendell, for the good of its people, had never crossed her mind in the slightest.
She approached Rumíl, who sat before Elladan, on the other side of a chess board, and said quietly, "Lord Rumíl, could I speak with you for a moment?"
Elladan grinned at her as Rumíl did, and the Sentinel stood. Adariel led him away from Elladan and the chess board, gathering herself. She turned to face him squarely, as if to prove her sincerity.
"I apologize for what I said to you near Moria," she told him quietly. "You were in no way deserving of my comments, and by all rights should have buffeted me in some way." Well, striking her in some what was, more than likely, something her mother would have done.
"You needn't apologize. You felt the need to defend yourself, and you did. Anyone else would have done the same, no one can blame you for it. Though I feel that I must add that there are very few people who would strike your for so small a reason, least of all myself," he told her, not unkindly.
She frowned self-deprecatingly. "Perhaps you should have; you could have done me a favor and knocked me into a state that at least *resembled* sensibility," she said dryly.
To her pleasure (and shock), Rumíl laughed. "You needn't bother," he replied, waving her offer away. "But I do have a chess gave to win, so I'm afraid I'll have to beg your pardon and request your company at another time."
She gave him a smile. "Of course."
Adariel turned as he went back to Elladan and his game, the smile quickly fading. Confusion, grief, guilt, it all swirled around until her mind was little more than a wrung cloth, and so Adariel went to her waiting chambers, changed into nightclothes, and retired early.
^*^
Adariel looked very much the opposite of her 'uncle' Elrond in her dove gray, cotton gown, her hair half pulled back and braided and twisted into elaborate shapes at the back of her head while two locks fell down in front of her ears to frame her face. Her 'uncle,' however, wore robes in colors that reminded Adariel strongly of a clear day in mid-winter, full of whites and pale blues, the darkest being a pretty cerulean blue.
She sat on the opposite side of the table, eating - or rather, picking at - her breakfast, their silence companionable.
"Uncle," she said suddenly, her eyes not leaving her plate, "am I needed here?"
"Of course," Elrond replied, as though it was obvious. "Why do you ask?"
"No reason," Adariel replied, sidestepping the question rather clumsily, but well enough to get by. "I was just wondering."
Elrond smiled at her. "Must I list your credentials? Lead Healer, Head Librarian, assistant midwife, unofficial care-taker of the children, aunt, friend, sister-by-marriage, daughter-"
Adariel couldn't help a small, soft laugh. "Uncle, you know that my parents have long since gone across the sea."
His smile was bittersweet, but when she blinked, not quite believing what she saw (it wasn't exactly a common response to such a statement), the look had left his face by the time her eyes were opened once more.
"All the same, my dear," he continued, refilling her glass of water for her, "you are much to many here. Of course you're needed."
Adariel didn't reply, sipping from her glass thoughtfully instead. She had to wonder, would her brother have wanted her to waste herself away with grief and guilt? It was highly doubtful; he was such an practical person that she doubted he would have been happy with *that* arrangement for an instant. As for Aradalien-
Aradalien. She was still missing!
"Elrond, what about Aradalien?" she asked suddenly. "We never found her..."
The Elf-Lord's face swiftly went from congenial to contemplative and stern. "I'll send out a search party of some kind." He paused, and his expression softened. "You realize, that we may be... too late, don't you?"
She nodded, though she looked as if it was one of her worst fears. "Yes, I realize that." She hesitated a moment, then said, "I want to be apart of the search party."
"Out of the question, Adariel," firmly, but not unkindly. "I'll not have you suffer the same fate as Aradalien."
She fought to roll her eyes. Why Elrond never said 'your twin' or 'your sister' was beyond her. But it *was* rather odd, because she had *never* heard him say it. Not once in her entire existence.
"I would be with others, not alone. Several others, in fact," she protested, but she knew it was a lost cause; once Elrond put his foot down, there would be little one could to change his mind.
Instead of replying, the Elf-Lord stood, walked around the table, and took both of her hands in his. "Morelen, I know that you wish to help, but I cannot risk you being gravely wounded or worse." He sounded genuinely concerned, and he was, but Adariel would only grudgingly admit it.
Adariel sighed. "I know. Though you can't blame me for trying."
He grinned at her. "No, I can't," was the quiet reply.
Adariel paused thoughtfully, then asked, "How *are* things at the infirmary?"
^*^
Adariel was reorganizing the shelf of herbs that were antidotes for poisonous plants when light footsteps entered the infirmary. True, it took very strong poison to injury, let alone kill, and Elf, but being prepared never hurt. Children in particular were prone to accidentally eating the wrong sort of berry or whatnot.
She looked up to see Celebnoviel standing in the doorway and looking rather awkward and apprehensive, Elencaran wrapped in blankets in her arms.
Reasonably anxious herself, Adariel rocked back onto her heels, a streak of dust on her right cheek, as she looked up at her sister-by-marriage. Neither looked away, though both wanted to, until Noviel finally said, with slightly overbright eyes, "He loved you, you know. For all you and Aradalien were twins, he still looked to you as his baby sister who needed protecting."
It was that comment, bred of pure intentions, that was just short of Adariel's undoing. Her throat locked and her chest tightened, but the worst constriction was the band around her heart, squeezing so tightly she thought it might burst.
Adariel shook her head, forcing a watery smile onto her face. "However much he loved me, he loved you ten-fold. You and El," she added, glancing at her niece before meeting the eyes of the girl's mother once more.
To her astonishment, Noviel walked over and knelt beside her on the floor. "Perhaps," she said quietly, "but you were always special. You would have had to hear him talk about you to truly grasp it."
She gave a chuckle, but it was just as watery as her smile, but her grin *did* solidify slightly. "Me? You should have heard him talk about you and El; eventually the men in his unit learned to block him out, or so I've heard."
Noviel smiled back, then handed Adariel her niece. "She's missed you. I can tell." Adariel looked at her rather skeptically, and so Nurardaion's wife informed her, "Maternal instinct. Which is something that you have, believe it or not."
Adariel wrinkled her nose at Noviel at the tease, but smiled as she did so. "I only have 'maternal instinct' because of all the examples given to me as I was growing up."
"Because your mother seemed to lack said instinct," Noviel finished, but suddenly her rather teasing expression became concerned and almost desperate. "I've heard... rumors, that you've been blaming yourself for... about Nurardaion. Please, don't do that. You should have heard him before you left, going on about you offering to go out on your own. He was dead set on protecting you, to the point that he told me that I may have to go with you, but in the end we decided that it wouldn't be good for El. You never forced him to leave, Adariel. He chose to go on his own."
"I would have killed him myself had he brought you and El," she said quietly, staring at the ground. "Your safety - yours and El's - would have been in extreme jeopardy. I would never have stood for that, particularly since El is so young."
"Precisely the reason he told me to stay."
Adariel didn't reply, and Noviel didn't continue. Both sat in silence, until El cooed up at her aunt, who seemed to come suddenly out of her reverie. But after a moment she reluctantly relinquished the child back to her mother. But Noviel hesitated, then said, "So long as we're here, is there anything we can do to help."
Her smile grew slowly, but in the end was the brightest grin anyone had seen from her in nearly a month. Though Adariel had originally intended to spend the day alone, the sudden prospect of company seemed to make the day seem less like a chore, which was actually the exact opposite of what her tendencies had been as of late. As such, she wasn't at all inclined to risk her friendship with Noviel, particularly since the she-Elf didn't seem to blame her for her husband's death.
"This area of the infirmary seems to have fallen into a... less than desirable state, since my departure, and I could very well have use for aid to help get it back up to working order."
Noviel beamed at her, stood, and said, "I'll start with the personal chambers, then?"
^*^
Roughly two hours later, Adariel had decided that perhaps things were nearly back to normal. Or perchance it was because she was too busy to grieve or send herself through austere journeys of guilt. Either way, when a soft knock brought her from rehanging curtains that had recently been shaken free of dust, she was rather surprised.
"What, pray, is going on in here?" Elrohir teased her, clearly attempting to remain lighthearted for her benefit. (Surprising herself, Adariel found that she appreciated it.) "Have you sent my father's infirmary into a severe state of disarray again?"
"Of course," she quipped, playing along. "What else might I do here? Heal?"
"Surely not!" Elrohir exclaimed in mock surprise. Catching sight of Noviel, he asked sternly, "Are you keeping this she-knave in hand, Mistress Celebnoviel?"
"Naturally," she replied, not missing a beat.
But Elrohir quickly sobered. "I'm needed in the courtyard; the search party is leaving momentarily."
Adariel dropped the second set of curtains and spun to face him dead on. Elrohir nodded to them both and proceeded down the corridor, but Adariel followed swiftly, Noviel doing the same.
Noviel went over with the 'Queen of the Kitchens,' Mal, who also happened to be her mother (Mal was a whirl wind when baking and creating food; Adariel had learned everything she knew from her.) Mal took a hold of her grandchild as Adariel went to stand beside Arwen.
"I take it," she said with the hint of a smile, "that Celebnoviel isn't as upset with you as you would have thought?" Adariel stuck her tongue out at her, and Arwen did the exact same in return.
Back in his own clothes (and quite thankful for that), Haldir stood near the entry way as the other members of the search party said their good-byes. None of the three had really planned on joining the hung for Aradalien, but it made sense that they did; they were already this far involved in the family of the Morelen, they may as well help.
But when Adariel came out into the courtyard, followed by Celebnoviel, Haldir couldn't help but feel a bit pleased with himself, though he didn't outwardly show it. She was smile, and although it wasn't a big smile, it was a smile nonetheless, and something told him that all that blather he'd told her the night before had actually had an impact.
Adariel had said that the only person she could possibly be confused with was Aradalien, but as she stood next to Arwen Undómiel, he couldn't help but feel that she had been mistaken. Yes, he'd never seen Aradalien, but the resemblance between the Adariel and the Evenstar was rather remarkable.
That thought faded as Adariel's smile did, however, and was replaced by a look of fear-bordering-terror when she was once more approached by that Elf - what had his name been? - Dimalphion.
"Really, my Lady, first you were grieving, and now your childish. Do you intend to keep everyone guess as to the emotions you have toward your brother's death and sister's disappearance?"
She paled and moved back a step, but Arwen gripped her arm reassuringly, glaring at him. It was then, as Dimalphion's smirk turned into a full-fledged malicious grin, that Haldir realized that he knew Adariel was terrified of him. The truly sickening part of it was that he relished in it, basking in her fear of him like a snake in the sun.
Elladan and Elrohir both came up to flank the two Elf-maidens, and if harsh looks could kill, Dimalphion would have died twice over.
"Dimalphion," Elladan said coldly, "I believe you have better places to be. Or did you not understand what we told you last night?"
Elrohir took a threatening step forward. "If we find you near Adariel - or anyone close to her - again, you won't live to see the light of another day."
He glared at them both, the gave a mocking bow. "As you wish," and then as gone.
The relief on Adariel's face at his leaving was almost frightening. "Why," she said, her words oddly forced, "can he not just leave me alone? Has he not done enough?"
"Because he can elicit a response from you," Arwen answered. "Do not give him a response and he'll not bother you."
"That's a rather difficult task, believe it or not," she snapped. "*You* try to remain emotionless after... what he did."
"It's all right, Adariel," Elrohir said. "He come near you again and we'll make good on our promise, don't worry."
Elladan and Elrohir both nodded to them and went to join the rest of the search party assembled before them. Adariel shook her head.
"I may have expected something like that from Elrohir, but from Elladan as well? Elladan isn't nearly so rash as his twin."
"He can be," Arwen pointed out, but Adariel's attention was already lost. Not far from where she stood, amongst the rest of the search party, stood the Marchwarden, looking quite ready for travel.
Adariel wasn't sure what she was supposed to feel about that. She was grateful, certainly, but there was something else there. Puzzlement? Doubtful; that was probably just an offspring of her own confusion. Then what was it? Or perhaps the more pressing question was, did she want to know?
Feeling her eyes, Haldir looked up, but she didn't look away. She nodded ever so slightly, and after a moment he nodded back, and Adariel hoped that he'd received the message she'd been trying to convey:
'Thank you.'
^*^
That chapter was really fun to write! Wow... Personally, I thought it was written much better than part seven. Probably because I didn't have to drag myself through the heaviest grief I've ever seen, let alone written about! There'll probably be a major time lapse at the beginning of the next chapter; Haldir and co. will probably be gone about a month, and that month would be pretty boring to read about, now wouldn't it? Well, I've taken enough of you guys' time, so I'm off! Remember to tell me what you think!
Love and hugs from
Carlee