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CHAPTER LXVIII

WHEN WALLS CRUMBLE

Annalyn's senses were assailed by a piercing cry. A rooster's call, she realised, and cringed when the intruding sound assaulted her for a second time.

Eyes screwed against the narrow beam of light that seeped between the shutters, she buried her face in her pillow, and groaned.

Despite her best efforts to relax and find rest, to dream of Haldir, she had only succumbed to sleep in the wee-hours of the morning and, as far as she knew, hadn't dreamed at all. Now the neighbour's rooster was up, shrieking for a third time.

As annoyance gave way to despair, Annalyn propped herself on one elbow before turning and sitting up. In the ensuing moments she rose not, but raked her fingers through her dishevelled hair.

"So pointless. Useless," she cried quietly, angry at the fact that she could not dream of her beloved. She needed to, so very badly, if only to understand what was happening to her. That tug, the incessant and overwhelming pull that would have her ride straight to Lothlórien, to Haldir, without ever looking back.

Of a surety, it was not a figment of her imagination. Something palpable had changed within her, was growing stronger, and that change had occurred after the last dream they had shared.

" We cannot be together in life. But this… This is not real life." Haldir's words, spoken before his dream-self had made love to her. Annalyn would never forget.

But had he been mistaken in his assumptions? Could there be real-world consequences to what they had shared during that dream? If indeed it was so, what would it mean for them? What would it mean for Haldir?

These questions troubled and suffocated her, which is why she soon dressed, grabbed her satchel, and left the house with purposeful steps.

"Ninael?" she called once she was outside. But the Elf was nowhere in sight. Perhaps she had gone for a stroll or a ride. A glimpse into the stable confirmed it was the latter.

The soldier hadn't left for good, though, not without saying goodbye; of that, she was certain. Still, as Annalyn started for the center of the village, she couldn't help but wonder…

The fact that Ninael had chosen to remain this long had surprised her at first. After all, these were uncertain times, and Lothlórien would surely have need of all its soldiers. But then, after a bit of pondering, Annalyn felt that her friend could be lingering for a multitude of reasons, not the least of which was her Marchwarden's peace of mind.

Whether Haldir had spoken to his captain of his worries, Annalyn did not know. But even if he hadn't, Ninael was perceptive enough to know that Haldir would have preferred it if she stayed, at least for a few days, to make certain Annalyn was settled in and well before leaving her here, all alone.

Alone. Such a heavy word.

Suppressing her sorrow, Annalyn made for the center of her village, where the earthen street was bustling, the villagers crowding the many tables that were arrayed on either side. It was market day, and her pantry was still lacking. In search of food, she was eyeing the various tables when a series of giggles reached her ears.

A quick look revealed that it was Gytha. Annalyn had to smile.

The girl was trailing after her, her laughter echoing as she darted behind some passersby. It was a game, one Annalyn had often played as a child. With joyful eyes, the girl would hide whenever Annalyn would glance her way, thinking she couldn't be seen.

All these months spent in Rhovanion, Annalyn had missed the sight of children laughing and playing in the streets. She had missed the innocent joy of those who have yet to be burdened or scarred by the woes of this world.

Walking here, among the villagers, it was hard not to dwell on the hardships that would soon crest over the horizon, tainting the lives of all. Setting these things aside, Annalyn somehow maintained her smile, and watched as the girl abandoned her hiding game and ran up to join her.

"Good morning, Gytha."

The girl giggled. "I was hiding. Did you see?"

With feigned seriousness, Annalyn answered, "I must say, you are quite furtive and quick. I did not see you."

Proud of herself, Gytha laughed again, a joyous laugh that brightened the adorable glint in her eyes.

"Gytha, there you are." It was her brother, Galan. His feet carrying him closer to where they stood, he said, "Mama is looking for you. She needs our help with something."

"Good morning, Galan," Annalyn said, and the boy returned her greeting.

"Where's your Elf friend?" he asked, curious.

"She's gone for a ride, but I am certain she will turn up soon enough."

"I see." But then, turning to his sister, he continued. "Come. We must go."

The girl heaved a sigh but relented, waving as she bid Annalyn goodbye.

Her chest growing heavier, she watched them go. When war reaches us, I will not abandon these people, the children. I will fight to the end if I must. This she vowed.

No sooner had she resumed her search for food, than her eyes caught a familiar face on the far side of the market. After a period of mourning, Aldin's beloved had finally left her home. With an empty stare, she carried a basket of bread without looking at anyone.

Guilt arose. If only I had been able to save him. I am sorry, Erna.

To be sure, this day was proving to be a difficult one. Since all she could do was put one foot in front of the other and keep going, Annalyn did just that, finding then making for her chosen table.

"Morning, Annalyn," the farmer—an older fellow named Hefric—greeted when she approached.

"Good morning. How much for carrots and a sack of potatoes?" Flour she already had, same for salted pork, but her reserve of vegetables had dwindled to nearly nothing.

"What have you got?" he countered, wiping his hands as he watched Annalyn rummage through her satchel.

"I have a full pouch of tea," she answered and produced the item in question. "Leaves that I gathered and dried myself. It is a blend of mint and fennel." Knowing it wouldn't be enough, she fetched a second item. "And I have a bolt of fabric,"—rough spun wool to be exact—"enough to make a tunic."

After a moment of consideration, the farmer rubbed his chin and said, regretfully, "Alas, I am not much of a tea drinker, and I have tunics aplenty. Have you anything else?"

Her shoulders slumped a little, for she had hoped to keep the item for a while longer, to trade when she had exhausted everything else. But until her medicinal plants grew to harvestable height, her bartering options were limited, leaving her with no other choice.

"Let us forget the tea and the fabric, then." She would save those for another time. "Would you have use for a hunting knife?" Reaching into her satchel, she grabbed the hilt and held it out.

Granted, it paled in comparison to the elegant knife that was presently sheathed in her boot, but there was no way in Middle-earth that she would ever part with the dagger Haldir had gifted her with, the one he had crafted with flame and hammer and the strength of his own hand.

Met by contemplative silence, Annalyn pushed forth. "It needs to be sharpened, but it is a good knife," she assured him. "The hilt is strong and sturdy, and the edge has held up nicely over the years. It is good steel."

A few endless seconds went by. "A knife I could use."

Her features brightened at that. "Very good." But Annalyn stopped short of handing it over, her smile vanishing as her eyes narrowed. "Although in fairness, it is worth much more than carrots and a sack of potatoes. If you throw in some cabbage, turnips, and some onions, we have a deal."

As Annalyn arched a brow and waited, Hefric pursed his lips, regarding her before he tipped his head and agreed at last. "That sounds fair."

And so they shook on it.

"The Elf," the farmer began as he was gathering Annalyn's requested fare, placing the vegetables in a sack so she could carry everything home. "Will she be staying overlong?" There was an undercurrent of wariness in his voice. But then, like many others, Hefric was wary of outsiders. Add to that the fact that Ninael was an Elf, well…

Bothered by the rampant ignorance surrounding Elves, Annalyn gritted her teeth.

"I do not know," she answered the farmer, and squared her shoulder. "But as my guest and beloved friend, she is welcome to stay as long as she likes." While spoken in a relatively courteous manner, the words were a warning for Hefric to mind his own business. "Thank you for the trade."

With that, she gathered her food and took her leave. Not wanting to linger on the fact that Ninael would probably be the last Elf she would ever see, Annalyn wove her way between the villagers, and started for home.

"That man seems to have ruffled your feathers." Annalyn recognised the voice as belonging to Theodred.

"It's you," she said, trading her annoyance for a small, embarrassed smile. "Forgive me, I suppose I am on edge these days."

"As are many," Theodred concurred as he neared, his eyes going to the villagers. "The shadow of war looms over everything and everyone." His chest rose on a sigh. He didn't have to speak to convey the obvious.

It wouldn't be long now.

"When will you and your soldiers depart the village?"

"My men have rested. We have tarried long enough. We shall resume our patrols at dawn." Despite his young age, there was an air of command about him, a sense of responsibility becoming one who would one day be king.

Shifting focus, Theodred indicated her burden, and offered to carry her vegetables for her.

"That is very kind of you, but I can manage."

"As you wish."

"Well, I suppose I should go. If we do not see each other ere you depart, I wish you safe travels and good hunting."

Theodred inclined his head, and smiled. "Thank you, Annalyn."

Firiel

She had barely taken two steps when a wall of feeling slammed into her, stealing the air from her lungs. Her surprise was such that she faltered mid-step, and nearly dropped her vegetables. "Haldir," she whispered on a startled exhale.

Theodred's voice reached her just then. It took a few seconds to register what he had said. "Are you well?"

Her heart was hammering within her chest, her mind acknowledging her sudden connection to Haldir. "Yes. My apologies, I must go."

Heedless of any stares that might be thrown her way, Annalyn set off at once, her feet carrying her at a brisk walk, then faster and faster still.

Despite her agitation, hope had swelled within her. So much so, she could have wept. "Haldir," she whispered again as she ran toward her house, desperate to reach him somehow.

Once she had arrived near her home, Annalyn dropped her sack of vegetables, and looked northward. With panting breaths, she waited.

Feel me. Hear me, Annalyn said into her thoughts.

Nothing.

But she hadn't imagined it. Haldir had reached her just now.

No longer able to endure her surroundings, Annalyn made for the stable. No sooner had she entered the structure than her eyes settled on her horse. Cobalt pranced a little as she neared. Fingers rising to touch his muscled neck, Annalyn regarded her horse and tried to appear calm. "Hello, dear friend."

While her voice helped to quiet his sudden restlessness, Cobalt remained on alert. His ears flickered back and forth. He kept pawing the ground.

"You feel it, too, don't you?" The confines of his stall, this entire place. Or maybe the fault lies with me. Horses were attuned to their masters after all. Doubtless he sensed her restiveness, her hope mingled with pain. Or maybe he sensed what was out there, the evil that was poisoning and darkening the world, threatening all she held dear.

The stable's doors were open, and a gust of wind swept in, blending fresh air with the scent of horse and hay. As her heart thrummed beneath her breast, Annalyn pondered the landscape outside. The skies were blanketed by a uniform layer of white-grey clouds, thick enough to mask the blue, yet thin enough to allow the barest hint of sun.

Light.

Her gaze darted to her saddle. Annalyn studied her horse again. He had ceased his prancing, and his muzzle had begun to droop. Good, she thought, sighing as she watched his ears relax to the side. To herself or Cobalt, she said, "Light remains. To that we must hold. And trust to hope. Come."

Moments later, Annalyn was riding northward. Not too far, she reckoned. But lest her people think her mad, she needed to get away from the village, out of earshot at least, and out of sight.

When she had ridden far enough, Annalyn drew rein. With all her will and all her heart, she focused on the bond, then cried Haldir's name, loud enough for her voice to echo on the horse plains.

Their connection strengthened, for she sensed him just then. Annalyn loosed a thankful laugh, her vision swimming with tears. But her smile was short-lived, for what she sensed left her mystified.

Shame. Remorse.

Cobalt pranced and nickered, but she scarcely noticed it.

Opening her heart and mind, Annalyn, held her breath, and closed her eyes.

Goheno nin. Haldir's voice! Ah, but she had yearned to hear it again!

Holding to the words, she searched her memory for their meaning. It was Sindarin but, for the life of her, Annalyn failed to recognize the first word.

Baffled by the pain that was filtering through the bond, Annalyn opened her senses, and waited.

Forgive me, she heard, in Westron this time.

Annalyn could only blink. Her heart sped up. Why was the Elf she loved asking for forgiveness?

I knew not… Forgive me, he kept on saying, calling himself an ignorant fool, swearing over and over that he hadn't known.

"Hadn't known what?" she asked into the wind.

But the link was fading, his words falling silent as his emotions ebbed away, leaving her alone once more.

Annalyn panicked. "No. No, no, no."

But there was naught to be done. Haldir had vanished from her consciousness as quickly as he had come.

Her heart in tatters, Annalyn remained where she was for several agonizing minutes. Met by a blank wall of sorts, she lost all hope, and prompted Cobalt to double back. "Why?" she wept.

After she had reached the stable, and fetched her sack of vegetables, Annalyn was so despondent, she had to seek refuge in the house. By the time Ninael arrived, she had been staring at the hearth for some time.

"Annalyn?" this one asked as soon as she walked through the door. "Is aught the matter?"

With a fresh surge of tears, Annalyn sent her watery gaze to the tabletop. She hated this. She hated when others saw her in such a state. But right now, the façade was crumbling, and her inner strength was failing. Tired. She was tired of pretending.

"I suppose there's no point in denying it. My world has turned to rubble, Ninael. I do not understand all that is happening to me, and I know not what to do. Help," she pleaded quietly, her gaze still fixed on the wooden table.

Ninael's footfalls echoed in the stillness. Taking a seat in front of Annalyn, she said, gently, "Tell me everything."

Her voice breaking, she did.