Legolas stowed his possessions in his room and went now into the chill
night to check on his mount. He went lightly down the rickety wooden
stairs, and as he turned for the livery stable, a rough voice piped up from
behind him.
"She is more fragile than she lets on,"
Legolas started slightly. A slow smile spread across his face as he turned to Aldruid. There were not many mortals who could surprise Mirkwood's Prince, and he looked upon Aragorn's kin with increased respect. Legolas said nothing, just regarded Aldruid carefully where he lurked in the shadows. Aldruid leaned back against the weather-beaten wood of the inn, its surface nearly as rugged as the Ranger himself. Nearly.
"What do you want with her?"
The pointed question took Legolas off guard, and he thought carefully before replying. "She is needed in her homeland. Her brother is in danger."
"Homeland?" Aldruid repeated sarcastically, but quickly continued, "I have heard talk of Mirkwood's legendary Captain Talendil in Gondor's court. What has happened to him?"
"He attacked a settlement of Dwarves in the Mountains of Mirkwood. They have taken him prisoner."
"He attacked a Dwarf city, and you come to Moraelin for aid? Surely the irony does not escape you?" Aldruid scoffed.
Legolas gritted his teeth, but said evenly, "I know that I ask a lot of her. I-I thought it might be a mistake coming here but I knew not what else to do. I just want her to speak with them, then she is free to leave."
Aldruid stepped out from the darkness and faced Legolas calmly. When Legolas met his gaze, he was surprised to see in the Ranger's eyes only tired sincerity. "Moraelin has finally found some peace within herself. But, it is dearly bought. It has not been easy for her to put the betrayals of her past behind her, but I can see that finally they pain her no longer. Now you ride into town and shake the very foundations of what Moraelin has worked to build. I want to know that you will be keeping her best interests foremost on your mind. I would not see her mistreated at the hands of your kind again."
Legolas regarded Aldruid curiously. Surely it was the longest string of words he had ever heard a Ranger utter. He blinked a few times, then finally said, "I will watch over Moraelin. I swore to that . . . long ago. I will hold to my word."
Aldruid nodded shortly. Legolas turned away, moving again to the stables. But, he halted suddenly and turned back to Aldruid, "Oh, and what you said, about Moraelin being fragile? I don't believe it for a second. If she is still the girl I knew, she is stronger than you and I combined."
Aldruid's scruffy upper lip twisted into a mischievous half smile. He nodded slowly, a chuckle rippling through the air. "Somehow, I think it would please Moraelin to hear you say that."
Aldruid watched the elf for a moment longer, sizing up the prince. He sensed Legolas was genuine in what he said, that he truly wanted no harm to befall Moraelin. But, Aldruid had learned that trouble tended to follow the half-elf, and no matter how she tried to hide from it, always it found her.
The steps creaked in protest as Aldruid climbed them wearily. He stood for a moment on the terrace, his calloused hands coming to rest on the railing that edged it. He looked out over the sleeping village, feeling the imposing silence surround him like a cloud. Even the nearly imperceptible footfalls of the elf had faded down the street. Aldruid thought of all the nights he had looked out over this valley in the gathering dark, listening to the spring cacophony of chirping frogs rising up from the marsh or the bone-chilling howl of wargs echoing over the winter snow. Now, he heard nothing. After several years of life in Minas Tirith, the silence was beautiful. It was no place for a man such as himself, Aldruid knew, to live in a bustling city, closed in by too many bodies around him. It was good to come back here, not just to see Moraelin, which lightened his heart more than she could ever know, but also to escape to the life that had once been his. He had prestige, comfort, and companionship in Minas Tirith. But, silence? That was a rare commodity.
He could also remember going hunting in the hills with Moraelin, how they could go for hours without speaking. With no other person had he ever had such comfortable silence. It would become nearly a tangible thing, but not obtrusive, more like a third traveling companion that walked the grassy trails beside them. He thought this was possible because both of them had spent so much time alone, wandering the lifeless expanses of these lands. So, when they were brought together, they knew the value of quiet, of letting the winds and the land itself whisper to them.
A damp gust of wind caught a strand of Aldruid's straight black hair and twirled it into his face. He brushed it away and shuffled along the walkway to his own door. He stared at it for a moment, and slowly, his head turned. He looked down at the other silent doors. Before this night ended, there was one more conversation he had to have.
* * *
Moraelin was shaken from her melancholy memories by a light tapping on her door. She sat up quickly, the straw mattress crunching beneath her at the sudden motion.
"Come in," she called, rubbing her tired eyes and taking a deep breath.
The door opened slowly, and Aldruid stood on her threshold. He seemed darker and older somehow, his brow was furrowed with some unpleasant emotion. He moved silently into the room, his tall form wrapped in a rough black cloak and his unshaven jaw set firmly. For a moment, Moraelin contemplated how intimidating he must be to those who did not know him. But, as she looked into his eyes, always gentle and calm, she knew there was nothing to fear from him. He sat next to her on the bed, watching her carefully. Finally, his gravelly voice asked, "Are you all right, Mora?"
She sighed and looked away, "I'm fine."
Aldruid placed a comforting hand on her back, "You are not. You can't fool me."
Moraelin laughed dryly, "I suppose I can't."
"It pains you to see him again?" Aldruid's green gaze still rested on her, but she could not return his look.
Moraelin's voice had dropped to a brittle whisper as she replied, "Yes . . .I thought I had banished him from my mind. I thought my old life could not harm me any longer."
"No one can forget where they came from, it makes us who we are." Aldruid murmured sagely.
"I suppose that is true," she leaned forward, resting her elbows on her knees and bowing her head, "I knew my past would catch up with me someday. I fear I do not have the strength to turn and face it. I just didn't expect it would be him, I didn't expect to see Legolas himself after all these years."
"Aragorn trusts this elf, so I should too. He did a great service to us all in helping the Ring-Bearer. But, if he hurts you I will break his knees."
Moraelin threw her head back in laughter, finally meeting her friend's eyes. "You can't imagine how I miss you now that you have settled in Minas Tirith. You always know just what to say. I regret that our visit will be cut short this year."
"It's all right. I just want to know that you will be careful."
Moraelin nodded, smiling at Aldruid as he rose. He turned to grip her shoulder reassuringly, "I know your brother caused you great pain in the past, but it is a testament to your character that you do not turn your back on him now. Be happy. Just promise me that."
Moraelin nodded, tears gathering in her eyes as she looked up at him. She reached up to squeeze his hand where it still rested on her shoulder. A rare smile stole across Aldruid's face as he loomed over this girl who had stood at his side for almost half of his life. And then he was gone, he had slipped away into the night like he had been formed from a piece of it.
A smile still lingering on her lips, Moraelin untied her boots and started to settle in for bed. Finally, she felt calm enough to sleep. She was comforted to know that whatever heartache awaited her under the sheltering trees of Mirkwood, she could always return to this valley and the Dunedain for comfort. Unlike the land of her birth, these things had never failed her.
* * *
Moraelin had used what little money she had left to procure some provisions for their journey at the village mercantile . . . which incidentally was also the tavern, inn, meeting hall, and butcher shop for all of Dreary Vale. She had said her good-byes to the Rangers, but as she and Legolas wove around a mud puddle that spanned most of the crude street, Moraelin saw Aldruid approaching. He walked with an unhurried confidence that she had observed most of the Dunedain maintained. He followed them into the livery stable, his wrist propped casually on his sword hilt as if he were simply joining them on a Sunday stroll, not on the advent of a dangerous voyage. Moraelin eyed him for a perplexed moment. She then hooked her booted foot over the bottom rail of the slatted wooden fence and hoisted herself up to watch Legolas retrieve his mount.
"Need a boost there, Tiny?" Aldruid asked as he easily draped his forearms over the gate.
Moraelin sent him a withering look, "You seem in a good humor this morn. Are you that glad to be getting rid of me?"
He cocked an eyebrow and said nothing, causing Moraelin's look to darken further. She turned away from the smug man as Legolas led his horse forward, a magnificent black gelding with a black and white mane, and a snow-white tail. The animal was obviously of the best breeding; Thranduil would provide his heir with no less. Moraelin frowned, but straightened her spine with stubborn pride as she called out for Rock.
Aldruid's growl of displeasure did not go unnoticed, by her or the horse. Rock seemed to sneer at the Ranger, stretching his neck to nip at him before being stopped by Moraelin. She yanked the horse's head around and dragged the animal through the gate and away from Aldruid to saddle him.
"I would swear that animal was bred in the stables of the Dark Lord himself." Aldruid said, addressing Legolas with a sympathetic shake of his head, "You be careful of that one, your Highness, he is as mean as a warg to anyone but Moraelin. Where did you find him anyway? A horse auction in Mordor perhaps? Or did you buy him off a passing Ringwraith?"
Moraelin cast a scathing look at the Ranger. "Certainly not. He was a gift from a grateful family in the next valley. I saved their young son from a troll. I tried to refuse, but they insisted."
"You should have tried harder. But, you know what they say, do not look a gift horse in the mouth. Or in the case of this beast, do not look at any part of him. I fear you simply got this cast-off runt because they did not want to have to feed the accursed thing anymore. Not to say your deed was not heroic but..."
"This is a perfectly fine horse," Moraelin ground out, enduring Aldruid's teasing as best she could.
Legolas let out a snort of laughter, only to earn a scowl from Moraelin. He went quickly back to smoothing his saddle blanket, not wishing her to turn her ire on him. But, by the Valar, it was the ugliest horse he'd ever seen. It had a short misshapen face, was missing part of its left ear, and though it was apparent Moraelin tried to care for his coat, the animal had a distinctly flea-bitten look. Strangely, the horse's wild, brutish eyes lost some of their fury as Moraelin brushed him lovingly. Rock turned to nuzzle Moraelin, and she hugged him around his thick, scarred neck, burying her face in his fur.
Aldruid's dry voice reached her from the other side of her mount, "The other problem with Rock is that he is a prolific breeder. No fence or structure is able to keep him away. And, the foals in this valley get uglier and nastier with every passing spring."
"And they get tougher and stronger as well. I should start collecting stud fees for the service Rock provides."
Aldruid chuckled, "Stud fees? You're lucky you haven't been run out of town with all the disgruntled farmers you have left in your wake. As I remember it, Arlan was ready to turn you on a spit when his prize mare dropped a hideous black colt bearing a striking resemblance to this beast."
Moraelin pursed her lips in annoyance, but her eyes danced with barely contained laughter. She had been defeated and she knew it. "I do not have time to stand around and take this abuse from you, Lord Aldruid. We've a long journey ahead of us."
Aldruid's face softened. "You know I jest." He watched as Legolas mounted his fine horse and then cast his sad eyes at Moraelin. It was time for her to go.
Aldruid took a step closer to Moraelin, "You remember what I told you, Mora."
"I will." She grinned, punching his arm playfully, "Smile, old man. Do not act as if we will never see each other again. I expect to see you here next spring as soon as the pass opens. I will be here waiting, like I am every year."
Aldruid's mouth rose in a reluctant smile. He wished he could believe her, but somehow he felt that one year from now, much would have changed.
"Of course you will be," he whispered indulgently, "Until then, Mora."
"Until then,"
In an uncharacteristic show of emotion, Aldruid stepped forward and pulled Moraelin into his arms. He lifted her small body off the ground in his warm embrace, and Moraelin squeezed his neck tightly as her eyes burned with restrained tears. "Take care of yourself, Aldruid," she whispered as she pressed her face into his neck.
"You too."
He set her gently onto the straw-littered floor of the stable, his weathered face tender. He turned then and left them, returning to the tavern and the rest of his men.
Legolas had watched the exchange with extreme curiosity, and had felt his eyes narrow each time Aldruid called her "Mora." Legolas had no right to feel jealous of the Ranger, it was apparent the man had taken care of Moraelin, something Legolas himself could no longer claim. He heard Moraelin's shaky sigh as she climbed atop her horse. He smiled reassuringly at Moraelin, but in return she could only manage a weak, unconvincing grin. As Legolas watched, her face changed, hardened once again. The smile dropped from her face like the slow falling of twilight, and without a word, she jerked Rock's head around and turned for the road.
"She is more fragile than she lets on,"
Legolas started slightly. A slow smile spread across his face as he turned to Aldruid. There were not many mortals who could surprise Mirkwood's Prince, and he looked upon Aragorn's kin with increased respect. Legolas said nothing, just regarded Aldruid carefully where he lurked in the shadows. Aldruid leaned back against the weather-beaten wood of the inn, its surface nearly as rugged as the Ranger himself. Nearly.
"What do you want with her?"
The pointed question took Legolas off guard, and he thought carefully before replying. "She is needed in her homeland. Her brother is in danger."
"Homeland?" Aldruid repeated sarcastically, but quickly continued, "I have heard talk of Mirkwood's legendary Captain Talendil in Gondor's court. What has happened to him?"
"He attacked a settlement of Dwarves in the Mountains of Mirkwood. They have taken him prisoner."
"He attacked a Dwarf city, and you come to Moraelin for aid? Surely the irony does not escape you?" Aldruid scoffed.
Legolas gritted his teeth, but said evenly, "I know that I ask a lot of her. I-I thought it might be a mistake coming here but I knew not what else to do. I just want her to speak with them, then she is free to leave."
Aldruid stepped out from the darkness and faced Legolas calmly. When Legolas met his gaze, he was surprised to see in the Ranger's eyes only tired sincerity. "Moraelin has finally found some peace within herself. But, it is dearly bought. It has not been easy for her to put the betrayals of her past behind her, but I can see that finally they pain her no longer. Now you ride into town and shake the very foundations of what Moraelin has worked to build. I want to know that you will be keeping her best interests foremost on your mind. I would not see her mistreated at the hands of your kind again."
Legolas regarded Aldruid curiously. Surely it was the longest string of words he had ever heard a Ranger utter. He blinked a few times, then finally said, "I will watch over Moraelin. I swore to that . . . long ago. I will hold to my word."
Aldruid nodded shortly. Legolas turned away, moving again to the stables. But, he halted suddenly and turned back to Aldruid, "Oh, and what you said, about Moraelin being fragile? I don't believe it for a second. If she is still the girl I knew, she is stronger than you and I combined."
Aldruid's scruffy upper lip twisted into a mischievous half smile. He nodded slowly, a chuckle rippling through the air. "Somehow, I think it would please Moraelin to hear you say that."
Aldruid watched the elf for a moment longer, sizing up the prince. He sensed Legolas was genuine in what he said, that he truly wanted no harm to befall Moraelin. But, Aldruid had learned that trouble tended to follow the half-elf, and no matter how she tried to hide from it, always it found her.
The steps creaked in protest as Aldruid climbed them wearily. He stood for a moment on the terrace, his calloused hands coming to rest on the railing that edged it. He looked out over the sleeping village, feeling the imposing silence surround him like a cloud. Even the nearly imperceptible footfalls of the elf had faded down the street. Aldruid thought of all the nights he had looked out over this valley in the gathering dark, listening to the spring cacophony of chirping frogs rising up from the marsh or the bone-chilling howl of wargs echoing over the winter snow. Now, he heard nothing. After several years of life in Minas Tirith, the silence was beautiful. It was no place for a man such as himself, Aldruid knew, to live in a bustling city, closed in by too many bodies around him. It was good to come back here, not just to see Moraelin, which lightened his heart more than she could ever know, but also to escape to the life that had once been his. He had prestige, comfort, and companionship in Minas Tirith. But, silence? That was a rare commodity.
He could also remember going hunting in the hills with Moraelin, how they could go for hours without speaking. With no other person had he ever had such comfortable silence. It would become nearly a tangible thing, but not obtrusive, more like a third traveling companion that walked the grassy trails beside them. He thought this was possible because both of them had spent so much time alone, wandering the lifeless expanses of these lands. So, when they were brought together, they knew the value of quiet, of letting the winds and the land itself whisper to them.
A damp gust of wind caught a strand of Aldruid's straight black hair and twirled it into his face. He brushed it away and shuffled along the walkway to his own door. He stared at it for a moment, and slowly, his head turned. He looked down at the other silent doors. Before this night ended, there was one more conversation he had to have.
* * *
Moraelin was shaken from her melancholy memories by a light tapping on her door. She sat up quickly, the straw mattress crunching beneath her at the sudden motion.
"Come in," she called, rubbing her tired eyes and taking a deep breath.
The door opened slowly, and Aldruid stood on her threshold. He seemed darker and older somehow, his brow was furrowed with some unpleasant emotion. He moved silently into the room, his tall form wrapped in a rough black cloak and his unshaven jaw set firmly. For a moment, Moraelin contemplated how intimidating he must be to those who did not know him. But, as she looked into his eyes, always gentle and calm, she knew there was nothing to fear from him. He sat next to her on the bed, watching her carefully. Finally, his gravelly voice asked, "Are you all right, Mora?"
She sighed and looked away, "I'm fine."
Aldruid placed a comforting hand on her back, "You are not. You can't fool me."
Moraelin laughed dryly, "I suppose I can't."
"It pains you to see him again?" Aldruid's green gaze still rested on her, but she could not return his look.
Moraelin's voice had dropped to a brittle whisper as she replied, "Yes . . .I thought I had banished him from my mind. I thought my old life could not harm me any longer."
"No one can forget where they came from, it makes us who we are." Aldruid murmured sagely.
"I suppose that is true," she leaned forward, resting her elbows on her knees and bowing her head, "I knew my past would catch up with me someday. I fear I do not have the strength to turn and face it. I just didn't expect it would be him, I didn't expect to see Legolas himself after all these years."
"Aragorn trusts this elf, so I should too. He did a great service to us all in helping the Ring-Bearer. But, if he hurts you I will break his knees."
Moraelin threw her head back in laughter, finally meeting her friend's eyes. "You can't imagine how I miss you now that you have settled in Minas Tirith. You always know just what to say. I regret that our visit will be cut short this year."
"It's all right. I just want to know that you will be careful."
Moraelin nodded, smiling at Aldruid as he rose. He turned to grip her shoulder reassuringly, "I know your brother caused you great pain in the past, but it is a testament to your character that you do not turn your back on him now. Be happy. Just promise me that."
Moraelin nodded, tears gathering in her eyes as she looked up at him. She reached up to squeeze his hand where it still rested on her shoulder. A rare smile stole across Aldruid's face as he loomed over this girl who had stood at his side for almost half of his life. And then he was gone, he had slipped away into the night like he had been formed from a piece of it.
A smile still lingering on her lips, Moraelin untied her boots and started to settle in for bed. Finally, she felt calm enough to sleep. She was comforted to know that whatever heartache awaited her under the sheltering trees of Mirkwood, she could always return to this valley and the Dunedain for comfort. Unlike the land of her birth, these things had never failed her.
* * *
Moraelin had used what little money she had left to procure some provisions for their journey at the village mercantile . . . which incidentally was also the tavern, inn, meeting hall, and butcher shop for all of Dreary Vale. She had said her good-byes to the Rangers, but as she and Legolas wove around a mud puddle that spanned most of the crude street, Moraelin saw Aldruid approaching. He walked with an unhurried confidence that she had observed most of the Dunedain maintained. He followed them into the livery stable, his wrist propped casually on his sword hilt as if he were simply joining them on a Sunday stroll, not on the advent of a dangerous voyage. Moraelin eyed him for a perplexed moment. She then hooked her booted foot over the bottom rail of the slatted wooden fence and hoisted herself up to watch Legolas retrieve his mount.
"Need a boost there, Tiny?" Aldruid asked as he easily draped his forearms over the gate.
Moraelin sent him a withering look, "You seem in a good humor this morn. Are you that glad to be getting rid of me?"
He cocked an eyebrow and said nothing, causing Moraelin's look to darken further. She turned away from the smug man as Legolas led his horse forward, a magnificent black gelding with a black and white mane, and a snow-white tail. The animal was obviously of the best breeding; Thranduil would provide his heir with no less. Moraelin frowned, but straightened her spine with stubborn pride as she called out for Rock.
Aldruid's growl of displeasure did not go unnoticed, by her or the horse. Rock seemed to sneer at the Ranger, stretching his neck to nip at him before being stopped by Moraelin. She yanked the horse's head around and dragged the animal through the gate and away from Aldruid to saddle him.
"I would swear that animal was bred in the stables of the Dark Lord himself." Aldruid said, addressing Legolas with a sympathetic shake of his head, "You be careful of that one, your Highness, he is as mean as a warg to anyone but Moraelin. Where did you find him anyway? A horse auction in Mordor perhaps? Or did you buy him off a passing Ringwraith?"
Moraelin cast a scathing look at the Ranger. "Certainly not. He was a gift from a grateful family in the next valley. I saved their young son from a troll. I tried to refuse, but they insisted."
"You should have tried harder. But, you know what they say, do not look a gift horse in the mouth. Or in the case of this beast, do not look at any part of him. I fear you simply got this cast-off runt because they did not want to have to feed the accursed thing anymore. Not to say your deed was not heroic but..."
"This is a perfectly fine horse," Moraelin ground out, enduring Aldruid's teasing as best she could.
Legolas let out a snort of laughter, only to earn a scowl from Moraelin. He went quickly back to smoothing his saddle blanket, not wishing her to turn her ire on him. But, by the Valar, it was the ugliest horse he'd ever seen. It had a short misshapen face, was missing part of its left ear, and though it was apparent Moraelin tried to care for his coat, the animal had a distinctly flea-bitten look. Strangely, the horse's wild, brutish eyes lost some of their fury as Moraelin brushed him lovingly. Rock turned to nuzzle Moraelin, and she hugged him around his thick, scarred neck, burying her face in his fur.
Aldruid's dry voice reached her from the other side of her mount, "The other problem with Rock is that he is a prolific breeder. No fence or structure is able to keep him away. And, the foals in this valley get uglier and nastier with every passing spring."
"And they get tougher and stronger as well. I should start collecting stud fees for the service Rock provides."
Aldruid chuckled, "Stud fees? You're lucky you haven't been run out of town with all the disgruntled farmers you have left in your wake. As I remember it, Arlan was ready to turn you on a spit when his prize mare dropped a hideous black colt bearing a striking resemblance to this beast."
Moraelin pursed her lips in annoyance, but her eyes danced with barely contained laughter. She had been defeated and she knew it. "I do not have time to stand around and take this abuse from you, Lord Aldruid. We've a long journey ahead of us."
Aldruid's face softened. "You know I jest." He watched as Legolas mounted his fine horse and then cast his sad eyes at Moraelin. It was time for her to go.
Aldruid took a step closer to Moraelin, "You remember what I told you, Mora."
"I will." She grinned, punching his arm playfully, "Smile, old man. Do not act as if we will never see each other again. I expect to see you here next spring as soon as the pass opens. I will be here waiting, like I am every year."
Aldruid's mouth rose in a reluctant smile. He wished he could believe her, but somehow he felt that one year from now, much would have changed.
"Of course you will be," he whispered indulgently, "Until then, Mora."
"Until then,"
In an uncharacteristic show of emotion, Aldruid stepped forward and pulled Moraelin into his arms. He lifted her small body off the ground in his warm embrace, and Moraelin squeezed his neck tightly as her eyes burned with restrained tears. "Take care of yourself, Aldruid," she whispered as she pressed her face into his neck.
"You too."
He set her gently onto the straw-littered floor of the stable, his weathered face tender. He turned then and left them, returning to the tavern and the rest of his men.
Legolas had watched the exchange with extreme curiosity, and had felt his eyes narrow each time Aldruid called her "Mora." Legolas had no right to feel jealous of the Ranger, it was apparent the man had taken care of Moraelin, something Legolas himself could no longer claim. He heard Moraelin's shaky sigh as she climbed atop her horse. He smiled reassuringly at Moraelin, but in return she could only manage a weak, unconvincing grin. As Legolas watched, her face changed, hardened once again. The smile dropped from her face like the slow falling of twilight, and without a word, she jerked Rock's head around and turned for the road.
