Title: The Tale of Marian
Chapter: 12
Rating: PG-13 for some sexual thoughts.
Feedback: Welcome.
Warnings: None.
Author's Note: See Chapter 1 for disclaimer.
* * * * * THE TALE OF MARIAN
CHAPTER 12 - RESPECT AND TRUST
7 & 8 September
Lord Haldir tipped the goblet to his lips and sipped the last of my
wine, his hand still cradling my hand around the stem, but this time
he did not put the goblet down. Instead, he tightened his grip firmly
but not painfully, and removed the goblet a hair's breadth away from
his lips. I could feel his pulse in his fingers now, warm and strong
and reassuring. Slowly, gazing at me intently, he turned the goblet
until I could feel his breath on the back of my hands, and pressed his
parted lips quite fully to my flesh.
A shudder of surprise and excitement ran through me. What was this?
Some elven ritual? Was he testing me? Taunting me? Or did I
actually affect him in some small way? Was he showing me that he
welcomed the desire he had so easily read in me?
I looked questioningly from my hand to his face, realizing that I was
breathing harder, faster than I should be. His eyes had grown darker,
and instead of coldness they now hinted at a secret, inner fire,
controlled but so intense that it astounded me. Feeling me shudder,
he drew in his breath and I felt his pulse quicken and throb in his
fingers.
For a moment time seemed to stop altogether. It had been so long, so
long since I had felt this way! So completely focused on him was I,
so acutely aware of every nuance of his expression that the rest of
the world melted away from my perception. What followed, followed in
vivid slow motion.
His free hand found my cheek, his warm fingers traveling from there
through my hair until they cupped the back of my neck. With apparent
reluctance, he let his lips fall away from my hand, only to pull me
forward, not quite against him, and place them tenderly on my own. He
pressed, stroked the surface of my lips with his in such an
undemanding yet sensual way that I knew he was showing me what the
kiss could be, waiting for a response that would deny him or give him
permission to continue. This tantalized me, inflamed my desire for
him far beyond what any bolder, more assuming kiss ever could have.
Yet I hesitated. I did not enter into physical encounters lightly,
knowing that I could never do so without investing my heart as well,
knowing how naïve I could be about another's intentions. It was
impossible for me to walk away from intimacy as casually as so many
others could. It was too hard, too painful for me to let go.
I thought my heart would burst, it was pounding so hard. I had not
given him the assurance he had been seeking, for he began to pull
away, sucking on my lips slightly as he did so, a thrilling hint of
the skill he possessed, and utterly, heartrendingly final: If I let
him withdraw I would see that cold curtain close again in his eyes,
shield his thoughts, and I would never, never feel his kiss again.
No! My head screamed and I reached up to grasp his neck with my free
hand, leaning forward, finally daring to respond, daring to risk my
heart on my intuition that he was too honorable to want me as just a
dalliance. I never gave a thought to insulting him by playing hard to
get - I knew instinctively that he would not tolerate such games,
especially not from someone who could not play them with expertise.
No! I was not willing to let it end with this one precious, short
kiss that would torment me endlessly. I wanted to taste him, revel in
his warm, heady masculinity and the feeling of his skin on mine, feel
his heart beat and his chest rise and fall with each breath that he
took. I wanted to drown in his lips, be enveloped in his arms.
Guard my heart indeed! I was helplessly, hopelessly lost.
The moment that he felt me react to him he released my hand, and the
goblet fell, clanking and rattling onto the floor. His hand flew to
cup my jaw, his fingers splayed along my neck, and he claimed my mouth
completely and passionately with his own. He tasted slightly of
wine, slightly of almonds, and otherwise deliciously, silkenly
tasteless as his tongue, his lips explored me in earnest.
I grew more and more intoxicated by the feel of him, and I ran my
hands up through his marvelous, golden hair as I had imagined doing,
caressing the proud tips of his ears with my fingers, wanting to feel
their strangeness, their texture, their strength. Instantly I felt
him half-gasp, half-groan, and a wave of tension swept through him.
His mouth slid over my cheeks, my brow, and he lowered his eyelids,
his dark, luxurious lashes grazing his marble cheeks, and he muttered
my name, over and over, until I thought I would either faint or
explode.
"Marian," he whispered, his voice low, intimate, and strained.
"Marian. . . "
"Marian," he repeated, louder, more insistently this time, his voice
higher, lowering his hands to incongruously shake my shoulders.
"Marian, wake up! You will be late!"
What? I was rising out of a long tunnel, blinking my eyes into focus,
gasping for breath. My eyes cleared, and I found myself staring into
Allinde's concerned face.
Marian, I'm sorry, but you didn't answer me so I came inside, she
said. Are you all right? Are you having a nightmare?
Yes, I answered groggily, yes, a nightmare.
Or at least a dream that shocked me, I thought. It was so vivid, so
full of color and atmosphere, so tactile and real that I was exhausted
and still more than a little aroused. I didn't have dreams like this
- I rarely ever dreamed of things I would actually LIKE to dream
about. Usually I dreamed in black and white of something boring and
stupid like wandering through a big, unfamiliar house - vacuuming.
I'm fine, Allinde, thank you, I reassured her. What am I late for?
What time is it?
It is not yet mid-morning, she replied. Did I not receive the
message, Allinde asked me, that Lord Haldir wished me to join him
early this morning? He would already have been waiting some time, and
one did not incur Haldir's wrath by keeping him waiting. He took it
as a personal and professional insult, a sign of incompetence and
disrespect, she warned. It was his military background, she added
dryly.
Great. Just what I needed, I thought. I was already incompetent and
I hadn't even started yet. As I sat up wearily Allinde showed me that
she had brought Lord Haldir's clean clothes back from the laundry for
me to take to him.
I groaned. I had forgotten all about them!
How was I supposed to get the message, I asked Allinde as I hopped on
one foot, pulling on my hiking pants. No one had been here, unless
they knocked and I slept through it.
Vanime, Allinde replied. She was one of Lord Haldir's pages, among
other things.
I would have to ask Allinde what "other things" were later. I threw
on a tank top and my one pair of tennis shoes, grabbed the robes and
headed out the door, thanking Allinde. I'm sure I looked like hell.
Wait, you don't know where you're going! Allinde called as she
followed me out the door. You're supposed to meet him by the lake!
Wonderful. I ran.
By the time I got to the lake I was gasping for air. I hate running
with a passion, and I hate running in the morning worse. I am not a
morning person: I'm barely civil in the morning.
I looked around, trying to catch my breath. No Haldir. I hoped he
hadn't left in disgust.
The dream I'd had was bothering me. True, it was a very fine and
convincing dream, cementing all of my feelings for this elf so that,
awake, I could no longer try to hide from myself how he haunted me.
But it had seemed so real. Could he have put it in my head somehow?
Was he toying with me? I had seen him heal my arm. I had seen him
cleanse the waters of the Linluin with only his hands and whatever
magical, ancient power he possessed. If he was messing with me, Elf
Lord or not, he would answer for it.
I heard a happy bark, which could only be Bruno. I looked in the
direction from which Bruno was bounding toward me, and there he was.
Lord Haldir straightened up from leaning against one of the pillars by
the lake, against which he had almost been invisible. He had his
hands planted firmly on his hips and a stiff, erect posture that did
not bode well for me. I greeted Bruno, which netted me a slobbered-on
wrist, and jogged over to where he stood, still short of breath,
offering him his robes back and apologizing for being late.
He took the robes silently and hung them on a branch, then turned to
me with his eyebrows arched and a very, very Army-Sergeant's
disciplinary look on his face. I wouldn't have been surprised if he
had barked out for me to drop and do twenty.
"I will not humor you by asking why you are late," he began.
That was just fine, because I wasn't going to rat on someone to save
my skin without knowing what had really happened.
I looked at him closely. Could this be the same elf that I had just
dreamed about? I searched for any sign of confirmation that he knew
what had occurred, but he was as unreadable as the granite rocks on
the lakeshore. My scrutiny in the face of his admonishment must have
irritated him further, for in spite of the fact that I didn't think
his eyebrows could rise in disdain any farther, they did.
I lowered my head in shame. Then I looked up under my lashes to see
if his eyebrows had lowered yet. Fat chance. I was in for it.
"To be an effective leader," he said in a clipped tone, "you must rise
earlier than others, be prepared when they awaken. You will rise at
dawn from this day forward and meet me here."
I didn't know you were so intent on appearances, I wanted to say, but
bit my tongue. I knew he wasn't that shallow. I was just feeling
grumpy and embarrassed. Besides, I was enamored of his appearance at
the moment. He wore only dark grey tights and a matching close-
fitting, long sleeved undershirt, which was pushed up over his
forearms in a way that I had always thought made men's arms look
muscular and sexy and capable. It made his look incredible.
"To be a strong leader you must keep your body strong. Come," he
ordered, and he took off running down the path beside the lake,
followed closely by a delighted Bruno.
I'm not a dog, I muttered under my breath at his choice of words. I
think he heard me.
Great: more running. I never, never ran. I would last about three
minutes, I thought, and jogged after them. They had both already
rounded the upper end of the lake and started up the walk along the
river's edge.
Still breathless from my race to the lake and struggling to keep up
with them, I called out that there was a reason it was called a
"walk." He ignored me. Bruno ignored me. Maybe if I just focused on
Haldir's form in front of me I could keep going. There were, after
all, worse things to follow than Haldir's very fine ass.
Wasn't this supposed to be about the time my second wind was supposed
to kick in, I wondered, because it wasn't kicking. I hate running, I
yelled at Haldir's behind, gasping and starting to get a sideache. I
LOATH running!
Mercifully or not, he backtracked to me.
"What method of physical training. . . do. . . you. . .
prefer?" he inquired in a measured tone. He wasn't even breathing
hard.
I don't know, anything but this, I begged: Tennis; dancing; swimming,
I offered at random, gulping for air and resting my hands on my knees,
upon which Bruno instantly licked my nose. Yuck.
"Swimming," he repeated close to my ear and circled me casually. His
hands were back on his hips like a cat that was confident its prey was
no longer capable of fleeing.
Oh no, I groaned, suddenly remembering the Linluin.
"'A punishment to fit the crime,' is, I believe, the mortal saying,"
he purred. The shiver that ran up my spine when his breath tickled my
neck was not altogether pleasant.
What are you doing, I asked in panic as he stepped to the bank and
methodically stripped off every piece of his clothing. He turned
completely toward me expectantly, with not even the tiniest bit of
modesty.
He was as magnificent as I had imagined him to be, and more. He was
the male perfection that Michaelangelo might have strived for when he
sculpted his David, but hadn't quite captured. For one thing, Haldir
was, well, better endowed than the David. I had always thought that
the David had been a bit cheated in that regard anyway.
I recalled the warmth of this elf's kisses in my dream, and what might
have followed if Allinde hadn't woken me up. Too late, I realized
that I had been caught admiring him again.
I need to go back for my bathing suit, I said hopelessly, my face
probably turning several shades of red.
"The water is swift. Clothing will only encumber your movements," he
said reasonably and completely without emotion. He shifted his weight
and raised his powerful arms to tie his hair back, and my mouth went
dry.
I hopped reluctantly toward him and the bank, removing my shoes and my
clothing down to my underwear, thanking God and all his Angels, or
Valar, or whoever, that I hadn't worn the ratty ones. I peered out at
the strong current - it looked almost manageable. Glancing around
warily, I saw a few other elves going about their own business,
ignoring us like this kind of thing happened every day. For all I
knew, it did.
I turned back around again and glared at him. His impassive, cold
stare told me that I was making him wait, again. I dismissed my
earlier fantasies that he had anything to do with my dream. It was
quite visibly obvious that he couldn't have been less interested in
me.
"Marian, all of Iluvatar's Children are beautiful after their own
fashion. Even," he challenged, staring down his nose at me, "mortals
slightly past their prime," and dove into the water.
Why, you. . . Ahhhhh! I sputtered in indignation. Bruno cocked his
head and looked at me. Shut up, I grumbled, ripping off the rest of
my clothes and jumping into the water as quickly as I could.
It wasn't as cold as I had expected, and I could stand on the
slippery, rocky bottom if I braced myself sideways against the
current. The water slid, delicious and cool and insistent, over every
surface of my body. I made my way angrily over the rocks into the
middle where Haldir had positioned himself facing upstream against the
current, the crystal-clear water streaming delectably around his lower
torso. This irritated me even more. Why did this elf continue to
affect me so intensely? Even knowing that he was goading me on
purpose, I was uncompromisingly determined to show myself worthy of
his regard.
And how long had it been since I had last gone skinny-dipping? High
school? My anger turned to elation. I caught his eye and laughed out
loud with the sheer pleasure of the water. He turned non-committally
ahead and instructed me to swim with him against the current while
holding my position in the river. Fine, I mumbled to myself. I would
show Mr. Perfect a thing or two. Except that it wasn't as easy as he
made it look. After a few clumsy attempts I found the right balance
of strokes and was able, with much effort, to keep pace with him and
the current. But my arms soon burned and I began to rely more and
more on my legs. Each time I began to slip back, I fought my way
forward again.
Would this elf never tire, never falter in his broad strokes perfectly
matched to the river's power, as though he and it were one in some
effortless dance? I sparred and parried with the current, wasting
precious energy in the process. I knew he was waiting to see when I
would give up, and this made me push myself even harder. Just on the
verge of not being able to raise my arms any more, I tried to plant my
feet back on the bottom so that I wouldn't be swept downstream. I
miscalculated. Haldir instantly dove back and caught me, pulling me
unceremoniously to shore. I lay helpless and panting on the bank, my
muscles reduced to jelly.
He threw his tunic over me and smoothly lay down next to me on the
bank.
"You are stubborn," he commented to the ceiling far above. "You are
weak. You will become stronger." His statement was not
encouragement; it was an order.
"You must achieve balance in all things," he continued lecturing me
about the error of my ways. "Push yourself to excel, but pace
yourself in the attempt. This you must also expect of your people."
I opened my mouth to protest, but he sat up and said, "I did not
demand more than you could give. You did that to yourself." I closed
my mouth. Damn it if he wasn't right.
"Go now to Allinde," he instructed, rising to pull on his tights.
Leggings, Lindir had called them. "She will meet you in the library
where you will begin to learn our language."
I stood up, clasping his shirt to my chest. My muscles felt like
mush; my stomach lurched.
I'm going. . . I started to say, and felt my skin turn hot and
tight. I knew the signs; I had overexerted myself in the water.
"Go then, but return the garment," he said, reaching out for his
shirt.
I'm going. . . to be. . . I gulped, and grabbed for his
outstretched hand to steady myself. . . sick. And I was.
The Elf Lord sighed and rolled his eyes to the vaults above, but he
didn't let go of my hand.
* * * * *
There was a fire in the grate, which Bruno immediately flopped down
next to. The large library was warm and dry and inviting.
Allinde was there, poring over an assemblage of thick, fragile-looking
volumes spread all over the large table in front of her, her lovely
profile silhouetted by the subdued light from a nearby window. She
was totally engrossed in comparing something from several of the
volumes, looking for all the world like a child who had just unwrapped
several Christmas presents at once and couldn't decide which one to
start playing with first.
You love your work, I commented as I sat down next to her.
Oh yes, she said, not losing one bit of the concentration she was
devoting to whatever she had discovered. Work makes one feel that one
is worthwhile, she said, it makes one capable. And, she said with a
twinkle in her eye, it is fun.
It is easy, she added, sitting back and tearing her eyes away from her
books, to read what someone did, what their behavior was. What is not
so easy to learn from the texts is why they did what they did. What
drove them? What inspired them? Sometimes, if you can find enough
different people writing about the same thing, you can start to get a
picture of what a person was really like. Or, you can find something
that has been lost for millennia, but is really right under everyone's
noses! It is like putting together the pieces of a puzzle.
So, what puzzle are you putting together? I asked, caught up by her
enthusiasm although I usually found history quite dry.
Can you keep a secret? She asked in a delighted whisper. She didn't
want anyone to know what she was doing, she told me, until she felt
surer of her research - for her part, she might not endure Lindir's
constant teasing if he knew.
Looking around to be sure no one was near, she declared with relish
that she was trying to discover the resting places of the Palantiri.
They were the Stones that looked far away, she said in response to my
blank look. They were made by the Eldar, perhaps by Feanor himself in
many ages past, as a gift and a comfort to Men. With them they could
gaze to the West and communicate with the elves even though they were
not allowed to travel to the Undying Lands. The elf-friends brought
them when they escaped to the Eastern Shores.
Allinde looked into the fire and quoted:
"Tall ships and tall kings
Three times three,
What brought they from the foundered land
Over the flowing sea?
Seven stars and seven stones
And one white tree."*
My father told me long ago that the Stones might have allowed the
Kings of Men to speak to each other over hundred of miles, and see
what was occurring in each of their lands in the present, and even
into the past.
Sort of like a cell phone with memory and a videocam? I asked.
Better, Allinde replied. It was supposed that no one using a third
stone could eavesdrop on the communication between two others.
What some people now would give for such secrecy! I exclaimed,
especially people who were up to no good. So what became of the
stones?
You have heard our song to Elbereth: "Na-chaered palan-diriel,": To
lands remote I have looked afar?
One, the Stone of Elendil, is reported to have last rested in the Elf
Tower Elostirion upon the Tower Hills. It looked only toward the
West, across the Sea. The High-Elves are said to have traveled for
miles to gaze into it. If one was lucky, one might glimpse Elbereth
clothed in shining white in the distance, high on the Mountain
Oiolosse, in Valinor. Such a vision would have been greatly
treasured, a sign of remembrance and faith until one felt the call of
the Sea and set sail at last into the Far West.
So one of the stones was a comfort to the Elves as well, who lived
here in Arda, I repeated. No one knows where this stone is now?
No, it was either lost, or destroyed, or forgotten long ago. Towers
have fallen; lands have changed. Few writings of Men or Elves remain
that speak of the Stones, at least those that I have been able to
find. The most recent entry is here, and she touched the open page of
a large yellowed volume bound in leather and gold leaf, from the
official records of the sons of King Elessar, the heir of Elendil.
They possessed the only two remaining stones that Men knew of - the
Stone of Orthanc and the Stone of Anor - given to them by Elessar
shortly before his death, when the eldest ascended to the throne of
Gondor. The entry is brief - times were peaceful and his sons seem to
have made little use of them. There is no hint of what became of them
after.
That's three, I interjected. What about the other four?
It was written by King Elessar himself that a third stone, the Ithil
Stone, was most likely destroyed with the Tower of Barad-dur, where
the evil Sauron was defeated for the last time. Only great heat or
fire, Elessar noted, was purported to be able to damage or shatter a
Stone.
Who was Sauron? I asked, fascinated by this glimpse into the distant
past. And we thought only ape-men walked the earth before us!
Sauron was the minion of Morgoth, Allinde explained in a low voice, a
spirit of dark treachery and immense power. Hating all that was fair
and good, Sauron schemed to destroy the world of both Men and Elves
and gain dominion over all of Arda. Our own accounts from Lothlorien
and Imladris, and those of King Elessar and his Queen Undomiel are
rich with the tale of the Rings of Power and how Sauron sought to use
the One Ring to bring all under his power. He very nearly succeeded.
If he had, Marian, Elessar would have fallen, and neither you nor I
would be here. But that is another tale, one of the greatest tales of
all.
Bruno whined and shifted by the faltering embers of the fire that had
been burning so brightly only a moment before. Allinde paused briefly
to revive the fire with dry logs and a deft touch. The air in the
library, which had become cold and heavy, began to regain its warmth.
The annals of Gandalf the great wizard, she continued, pointing to
another set of large volumes on the table, record that he suspected
the Ithil Stone to be in the tower at Barad-dur, and that Sauron might
by its use have bent the mind of the wizard Saruman to his will
through the Stone in the Tower of Orthanc that Saruman possessed.
Upon the defeat of Saruman the Stone of Orthanc was remembered, and
Gandalf returned it to Elessar, who claimed it by right.
Of the other three I have found no word.
I gazed into the fire, which now danced and glowed merrily in the
grate, thinking of Elves and Men, wizards and monsters, and saw
Allinde out of the corner of my eye, studying me like one of her
texts.
There may be other volumes about the caverns or elsewhere, she said
thoughtfully, in the hands of some forgetful or studious elf. Several
volumes here remain to be explored, though most are in Elvish. Are
you interested in helping me, Marian? It might speed your skill in
our language as well as acquainting you with our past and our way of
life.
Bruno rolled over and raised his head to look at me. Why did I feel
that even the books on the shelves were waiting for my answer?
Yes of course, I'd love to, I replied, and Bruno sighed and put his
head back down to lick his paws. What was with that dog?
It would allow me to begin to repay her for her kindness, I added, and
I shared her love of reading. Then I asked her, Lindir said that Lord
Haldir was a friend of Elessar. Weren't others of you alive at that
time, others who might know of the palantiri as well?
Yes, all of us here remaining saw the Third Age come to a close,
Allinde replied, but none have spoken more of the Stones than I have
told you. Lindir alone may know more than he speaks of, but he holds
them to be of no interest, being instruments of Men. He would scoff
and say nothing if I asked about them.
What if I asked him, I said. I'm supposed to learn about everything,
remember?
Allinde grinned a Cheshire-cat grin, and I felt as if I had gained a
sister. Just be tactful, she warned. Lindir can recognize a
conspiracy many miles away.
Can YOU keep a secret? I asked. Allinde nodded her head and looked
at me expectantly.
I threw up on Lord Haldir's shirt this morning.
But, I added as Allinde doubled over with laughter, at least he wasn't
wearing it this time.
Allinde declared that I might never be free from the laundry if I did
not mend my ways. She showed a massive amount of control by not
asking me why I was with Lord Haldir when he didn't have his shirt on.
I think I will keep her guessing for a while. She'll enjoy the
mystery.
Then she asked me quite seriously if Lord Haldir had been angry with
me. No more than I deserved, I replied. He was quicker to find fault
lately than was his nature, she confided carefully, and her voice
carried concern as well as deep respect. She said that I must give him
time to accept me.
* * * * *
The rest of that morning was spent learning the elvish alphabet with
Allinde, which was more like learning beautiful calligraphy. I
decided then and there that a linguist would be first on my list of
people to bring to Methentaurond. I could draw, but being fluent in
only one language, I would be a weak and slow learner of Elvish.
Allinde also granted me all of the blank notebooks I could desire, as
I told her my journal was almost full and I must write down everything
I learned, draw everything I saw each day or risk forgetting. I was
not as quick as when I was younger, I said, and saw that she could not
comprehend that the mortal mind slowed as the body aged. And I would
not have the luxury of asking again after the elves were gone, I
added. This she understood.
Then Allinde declared that as we had some time before Gladrel expected
me, I must accept from her some female essentials that I had doubtless
not carried with me. She presented me with a hairbrush and hand
mirror of burnished silver that looked like priceless antiques, and a
simple but elegant grayish-green gown that she said she did not need,
though I doubted it. Soon I must go with her to Vanime for some gowns
and slippers of my own, for surely I would tire of leggings before
long, she said, looking pointedly at my hiking pants and shoving me
and Bruno out the door.
Since I was meeting Gladrel in the herb gardens near the kitchens of
the Great Hall instead of in the more distant greenhouses, I could
take the time to finally unpack in earnest.
This meant that I had to drag Bruno with me back to my rooms and then
to the gardens before meeting Lord Haldir back at the stables.
Although I had never allowed the big mutt inside my house back home,
he seemed to think it was his right to barge right into my new
quarters as soon as I opened the door.
Make yourself at home, I commented as he sniffed around the front room
and then padded into the back and immediately threw himself onto my
bed.
Oh no, I said. No, no, no. Down Bruno, I ordered, and received a
blank stare in return.
I am your master, not your friend, I reminded him. Now get down. The
floor is yours; the bed is mine.
Bruno buried his nose in the covers.
That does it, I declared, and bodily shoved his big furry butt off
onto the rug. Now stay, I admonished as I turned to place the brush
and mirror that Allinde had given me on the dressing table. Whipping
around, I caught him putting his paws back up onto the bed, poised to
haul himself up onto it again.
Bruno, I threatened, and his tail wagged.
Down or out, I said with finality, and to my surprise he laid back
down on the rug. Then I remembered Lord Haldir's words - obedience
must have its own rewards. Good Bruno, I said, and went over to
scratch him behind the ears. Good dog.
Now, I told him, let's make use of that wardrobe.
It didn't take long for me to empty the remaining contents of my
backpack onto the bed. The flashlight was apparently off limits here,
so I shoved it into the back of the bottom dressing table drawer.
There were lovely, fragrant candles set about my rooms and one of the
many starry lanterns by my door anyway. I followed suit with the
meager remainders of my dehydrated food, my tiny camp stove, and the
rest of my miniature hiking gear. The less than useful GPS/compass I
put on the table in the front room. I might as well take some time
later and learn to use it properly. I would doubtless need it when I
left to gather my little band, if I was ever to find my way back.
Ironically, I mused, people would probably think I had become a crazy
cult leader before I was through.
At last I gathered my few utilitarian clothes and Allinde's gown.
Moving a fern and the heavy curtain aside, I opened the stately
wardrobe in the small alcove off of the bedroom. Someone had
obviously overlooked the alcove when they had prepared these rooms,
however. The wardrobe was not empty.
Three padded silver hangers hung on a slim silver rod in the corner of
the wardrobe, from which draped white cotton-like dust covers with
ties down their fronts. A lidded basket rested on a shelf above.
I pulled the first hanger forward and gently unlaced the ties. Inside
the cover was a slender, sleeveless cream-colored slip of fine weave,
with satin edging and spaghetti-straps. It would fall in simple lines
to the lower calf on a tall woman, or elf. Perhaps it had been a
nightgown for an elegant lady.
Re-lacing the ties, I slipped the next, much heavier hanger forward
and peeked inside the dust cover. Inside was a deep blue velvety
gown, the color rich as a night sky. It was full-length with a slight
train and a wide, scooped neckline whose full sleeves would rest far
out on the shoulders and drape nearly to the ground. Lighter blue
chiffon trim embroidered with silver thread was corded along the
neckline and capped the tops of the sleeves at the shoulders. A
ceremonial garment, I guessed, much finer than the gowns that the
elleths here wore daily.
The final hanger, farthest back in the wardrobe, was mid-weight
between the other two. I unlaced the bows to open the cotton cover,
and gasped. Inside was a long gown fit for Cinderella's ball. A
transparent but substantial fabric of woven gold with ribbon lacing
was draped over a long peach slip that felt like a liquid river of
silk. Gold thread in diamond patterning was woven through the outer
garment, with golden beaded leaves glittering in the soft light
falling through the glass roof of my rooms. Reverently I closed the
cotton cover that protected this treasure. On tiptoes, I lifted the
basket from its perch. Under the lid of reeds were slippers of the
same peach silk as the gown, with delicate gold beading; slippers made
to dance in. Turning them over I saw that they had been worn, but
only briefly or by a very light-footed elf, for there was only the
faintest sign of wear.
Imaginings of a distant past, of fuller, happier, younger times filled
my vision, and I felt at once that I was intruding on someone's
privacy. I returned the slippers to their place high on the shelf,
and closed the wardrobe doors. I would find some other place to store
my clothing.
Retreating from the alcove, I closed the heavy curtain and returned
the stand with its fern to its position in front of the curtain. I
then shoved my pants and shirts into another dresser drawer and hung
Allinde's gown on a hook on the back of the door, and sat on the bed.
How sad that these things were so loved, and yet had been left here
abandoned and forgotten. I would have to ask later what was to be
done with them. Looking at Bruno, I asked aloud whose cherished
memories, what elleth's fair past did these garments whisper of.
Bruno considered my question for a moment, then yawned and rose to his
feet.
It was time to meet Gladrel.
Come on, I said to Bruno as I walked into what I was beginning to call
the parlor. I selected the first of the notebooks and labeled it
"PLANTS", while Bruno padded out after me. This was quite an
improvement in his behavior after only one day.
Maybe, I told him as I led him out into the airy cavern, there is hope
for both of us yet.
* * * * *
Gladrel was a serious whirlwind of energy and efficiency. She spoke
little, but what she did say imparted a wealth of information and
wisdom. I almost thought I could see the plants in the herb garden
visibly respond to her ministrations. Her voice was like magic. At
the risk of sounding crazy, from what I could see it was more like the
plants actually told her what they needed, and she gave it to them.
Even the best green-thumbed mortal, who I was not, would need a world
of science behind her to understand what she could with only a touch.
By the time that Gladrel and her assistants released me that
afternoon, the first pages of my notebook were brimming with
instructions and sketches of herbs, many of which I had never seen
before. My mind was whirling with the new and wondrous things I had
begun - only begun - to learn. I would need to find an army, it
appeared, to even begin to replace her. A microbiologist? A
botanist? A Master Gardener? Did I know twenty Master Gardeners that
I could talk into believing in elves?
What if some of these herbs could cure diseases, like cancer or
Alzheimers, I asked her in excitement. Why had the elves not shared
them before?
Was it wise of my bretheren to treat only the symptoms of Arda's
malaise, she asked me in return, or to seek to repair the cause? She
did not know if the ancient herbs would assist Men or not, she said
more kindly. She only knew that they would grow now in Methentaurond,
if nurtured, and nowhere else. They would soon be mine to do with
what I thought best.
She showed me the herbs that were at their peak and which would mature
in a different season, and we picked a variety of seeds to store and
stems to hang. Choosing several dried leaves and flowers from the
drying house, she then took me across a narrow yard to the kitchens
where she and a chef's assistant taught me to prepare an infusion of
herbs that would ease Callo's breathing, which I was disturbed to
learn had become somewhat shallow since yesterday. Then she sent me
and Bruno away back down the garden path with a precious vial of the
infusion and a promise to deliver it to Callo by the next morning.
On the way back down the paths to meet Lord Haldir I looked through
each of the several arbors that edged the herb gardens as I passed,
and the view and fragrance through one in particular caught my eye. I
stepped into the opening, and hesitated. Glancing back, I saw Gladrel
still standing where we had parted. She made a graceful shooshing
motion with her hands. I shrugged, and started to enter.
But as I turned to step through the opening a horn pealed clearly
once, then twice, resonating throughout the caverns.
No time for dog training now - follow me! Gladrel called as she broke
into a run back toward the kitchens.
Bruno and I caught up with her in the pantries, where she was quickly
and efficiently filling large baskets with containers of a white
powder that I recognized as sulfur, honey and other ingredients and
handing them one at a time to waiting elves. All smiles and excited
conversation, they set off in pairs through the Great Hall and out
into the caverns, practically dancing as they went.
I relaxed a little; whatever was happening, it seemed to be a joyous
occasion and not a dangerous one as I had feared.
Her task completed, Gladrel turned and blinked at me as if remembering
all at once that I was still there. Bruno barked and paced in happy
agitation.
It would be better for you to return your dog to the stables now.
Join us at the end of the last greenhouse. I will wait for you there,
she instructed and ran skipping out of the kitchen. Reticent Gladrel,
skipping. Something was definitely up.
But what's going on? I called after her.
The last of the Gatherers have returned safely from the forest! She
called and disappeared with her basket through the doors of the Great
Hall.
After feeding and settling Bruno down in the stables, I rushed out
along the deserted paths and rounded the corner of the last
greenhouse, discovering at once why the rest of Methentaurond seemed
to be empty: Everyone was gathered here instead. The elves stood in
a large, boisterous semicircle facing toward two of the huge tree-
pillars, which had been hung festively with lanterns and greenery.
But the elves were each so tall that I could see nothing more.
There you are! Gladrel squeezed around a pair of silver-haired elves
and took me by the arm, pulling me forward through the crowd.
There in front of the twin pillars was a series of vats. At one side
was a large stack of barrels, and on the other side were row upon row
of large baskets, full to the brim with berries of all sorts:
blackberries and huckleberries and salmonberries, overflowing and
spilling onto the ground like huge cornucopias of plenty. In the
middle of it all, an open bottle of wine in hand, was Lord Haldir
himself.
Gladrel brought me up to stand with her near the foremost vat. Lord
Haldir, resplendent in deep burgundy robes with waistband, neckpiece
and circlet of silver, leaped up to balance effortlessly on the vat's
edge and raised his hand. The crowd quieted in anticipation.
Ai Hír Haldir!** A strong voice called from the side of the gathering
near the baskets, and the crowd parted to reveal Barunir, whom I
recognized from my not-so-dignified first day in Methentaurond. He
strode forward, head held high, waist-length brunette hair twined with
ivy, clothed in a tunic and leggings of rich purplish-black
embroidered with green stitching in the shapes of grape leaves. He
carried a silver platter on his head, brimming with berries, which he
removed to hold before the Elf Lord with a flourish and a bow.
Lord Haldir stepped down from the vat and approached Barunir, placing
his free hand on his heart in greeting. "Mae govannen, Gatherer," he
said clearly for all to hear. "What bring you?"
I bring the harvest of the forests of Iavas***, the gifts of Yavanna,
my Lord, replied Barunir proudly.
Taking a blackberry from the platter and tasting it, Lord Haldir
replied, "These sweet gifts I accept, Barunir o Methentaurond a
Imladris. May you have the praise of the Valar!" The crowd broke
into applause and song.
Then, receiving the platter from Barunir, he held it out to Gladrel,
who produced two gleaming silver goblets from her basket and placed
them beside the berries on the tray. The elves again became silent.
"May the Valar bless this good harvest, and may the vintage of the
year now past impart to the new its wisdom, its richness, and its
grace," Lord Haldir said, and he dropped a berry from the tray into
each of the goblets, then poured wine from the open bottle into each
of them as well. Gladrel then presented one of the goblets to Lord
Haldir and the other to Barunir, and they drank. A great cheer went
up from the assembled elves.
Standing behind Gladrel by the vat in front of the crowd, I was
beginning to feel rather foolish and decided that perhaps now would be
a good time to start slowly backing into the crowd. But before I
could move a furtive muscle, Lord Haldir turned to me and held out his
hand. A hundred pairs of curious eyes trapped me where I stood.
Damn.
"But of this harvest we will make a New Thing," he declared, leading
me forward to where Allinde and Lindir stood beside Callo, who was
resting on a small palfrey. Lord Haldir then faced me in front of the
assembly. Gone for the moment was the haughty, sarcastic tone that I
had tried to harden myself to, gone was the ice in his stare, and his
eyes were filled wisdom and kindness.
"Before this year has passed," he continued, "we will leave the woods
that bore us and travel to the Sea, to the ready ships of the Grey
Havens, where we will take the way Westward to the land of our people
at last. Those who are parted from us for a time," he said, and
looked at Callo, his voice deep with emotion, "we will find anew in
the Blessed Realm, when the time of Waiting has passed." Then he
faced me again. "This last vintage of the Elves shall remain as a
parting gift to Men, a symbol of their inheritance. Will you accept
it, adaneth elf-friend?"
I opened my mouth to respond but I could not speak. The reality of
the Elves' plight weighed on me, and I thought, standing there, that I
understood them perhaps for the first time: their love for this
Earth, their sadness and envy at leaving, their sureness and faith in
their destiny on a far distant shore that none of them save those who
had left before them had ever seen. And this elf, this glorious being
that stood before me and that I was growing to respect and care for
ever more deeply, would soon be gone from this place, and from me,
forever.
Lord Haldir waited patiently, and squeezed my hand.
At last I found the words that I wanted, and with my hand on my heart,
bowed low.
I accept it, my Lord, with gratitude from all of my people for the
gifts that you grant us, and the wisdom and grace that you entrust to
us. They are irreplaceable gifts, as are the Elves, and I have vowed
to keep them safe and use them as wisely as I am able. I wish to be
the best of friends to you while you remain, and I wish you safe
passage when you leave, though it saddens me greatly that this must be
so. When the first bottle of this new vintage is opened, I will raise
a toast to the Elves such as this world has never heard. This vintage
will inspire the next, and it the next. So will you be with us
always, and so will you be remembered.
"Then let the begetting of the wine begin!" Lord Haldir declared, and
threw the contents of the silver tray into the vat. He removed his
outer robes and set them aside, and pushed up his sleeves. The rest
of the elves followed suit, and the songs began anew. Some hefted the
baskets of berries into the vats, some entered the vats and began
crushing the harvest, and some stood by with large mixing paddles.
Others rolled barrels into readiness where the juice would be drained
from the vats and Gladrel's other ingredients added.
"My Lord, you said?" Lord Haldir commented to me wryly. One corner of
his lip was curled slightly and his eyes danced. In fact, he appeared
to be very pleased, happy even.
All right, I respect you, I admitted grudgingly, and I offer you my
friendship. I want to repay you, somehow, for what you are doing for
me.
"I welcome your friendship, Marian, and the respect due a teacher from
his student, the obedience of a youth toward her elder. But your
servitude I will not accept.
Look about," he said with a broad sweep of his hand. "This event
brings joy to all, and all share in it. Each person contributes, in
his own way, to its success. Even the sentries and the wardens in the
forest will be relieved so that they may partake in the effort. No
one is unnecessary or forgotten. Do you understand?"
I understand, I said.
"Then remove your shoes and pull up your leggings, Marian," he
ordered, and he sat me up on the edge of the vat as the elves
continued to empty their baskets into it. "Unless, of course, you
want them to quickly become purple."
I doubt they would add the proper element to the crush, I said as I
kicked off my shoes.
"Indeed," he replied.
"Do not ask of your people," he said as he placed his strong hands
around my waist and lowered me into the vat, "anything that you would
not do yourself."
Why does every lesson you teach me involve removing at least one
article of clothing? I asked him, my hands resting on his broad
shoulders.
"Do not question my methods, young one," he said huskily, and he drew
me forward, his hands still on my waist; his eyes even with mine due
to my higher position on the floor of the vat. If he leaned but a
little closer, our lips might touch.
Seeming to recover himself, he removed his hands from my waist and
stepped back, but not before one of his silver-gold locks of hair slid
over the edge of the vat. A wicked thought entered my head, and I
smirked and twirled the silken lock on my finger.
"Do not even think," Haldir warned me sternly, " to turn that thought
into deed, lest it carry the dearest of penalties."
I only suggest, I said in all innocence, bending my knees to reach
back for a handful of berries, that your hair would look marvelous
with purple tips, don't you agree? It is, after all, a royal color.
. .
Yanking his hair out of my hand, he turned and took a basket from a
nearby elf, and heaved it at me. Only a quick duck saved me from a
blackberry bath. The elves around us smiled and shook their heads.
"The arrow is mightier in the hand that holds the bow," Lord Haldir
laughed, and his laughter was as musical and enchanting as the sound
of bells. And, just in case I was too dumb to get it, he added, "or
the basket."
We worked long into the night and the wee hours of the morning, Lord
Haldir working hardest of all, until the last bit of juice was safely
corked in the final barrel. When we were thirsty we had wine or
water; when we were hungry we ate berries and apples. Finally the
task was done. The vats were cleaned, the pulp was carried away to
the weavers where it would be boiled and strained for dye; the dregs
would be given to Gladrel for compost. The elves began walking off to
their homes. I wandered over to sit on the bank by the water; my feet
hurt and my legs were sore.
Lord Haldir came and sat beside me in silence.
Jason would have loved this, I told him, as I stared into the water
feeling somewhat homesick. Well, not necessarily the working part,
but the drinking and partying part.
"I suspect that your Jason can work hard when called upon to do so."
Very hard, but I would never tell anyone - it would ruin his
reputation, I said, and Lord Haldir smiled.
What is this river called, I asked him.
"Do you not know?"
Tired, I looked up into the deep gray-blue pools of his eyes and tried
to think. Didn't anyone in this place ever give a direct answer to a
question? Not this elf, or Lindir either. It was beyond irritating.
Sighing and gazing back at the water, I admitted to myself that this
elf's evasiveness, his questions that seemed to spring out of nowhere,
were lessons in themselves if I could but grasp them. He was like the
most frustrating of professors whose classes I had suffered through in
college, who instead of spoon-feeding their students, threw out the
ingredients like a puzzle and then challenged you to put the puzzle
together; who waited, smug and amused, to see how long it would take
you to figure it out. How I resented them at the time! How they
drove me mad! Yet as I grew older I came to see that they had been
the best teachers I had ever had.
I tried to think back to everything that I had seen or been told about
the water in the caverns, from the waterfalls cascading around and
below the Great Hall, to the bathing pools, the lake, and the laundry.
Then I heard Lindir's words echo in my head: ". . .if the water
should become tainted . . ."
But we were swimming in it; the elves were washing in it! Yet, I
thought, these things took place below the Hall, below the dwellings,
and they cleansed it before it moved on. No, what I was thinking
didn't make sense - it was too far away!
I looked back at Lord Haldir, who was waiting for me with a rather
smug, yet quite dignified look on his face, and I decided to take a
leap past logic.
I believe, I ventured, that you call it the Linluin.
He continued to wait silently.
And. . . I should not have bathed outside in the pool of the same
name because - because it is your water supply.
He still waited wordlessly.
But that doesn't make sense, I argued aloud with myself. It's six
hours away!
He raised an eyebrow, and the light danced in his eyes in the most
superior, irritating way.
You didn't! I accused him, and stood up, shifting my weight from sore
foot to sore foot, thoroughly pissed off. You made me walk SIX HOURS
in a circle IN A BLINDFOLD for NOTHING! I yelled at him. How funny
WAS IT, I seethed and stomped for good measure, all of you smiling and
laughing at me behind my back!
"Marian, sit down," he said calmly.
"Sit down," he repeated when I crossed my arms and stuck out my chin,
and I knew from the absolute authority of his voice that I had better
do as he said. So I sat down with my arms still crossed, and pouted
at him.
"Do not be hurt - we did it not for our amusement, but for our
security."
You could have trusted me, I retorted.
"No Marian, we dared not do so, not then."
You still don't trust me.
He was silent.
Show me where it really is, I asked him. Show me where it comes into
the caverns. I silently begged him to trust me. Trust me, trust me, I
repeated in my head. Earning his trust had become the most important
thing in the world to me.
"In due time," he replied. My heart sank, and a tiny seed of
rebellion planted itself in my mind.
I looked away from him, then up to a clear vault to see that it was
morning. Lord Haldir and I were now alone.
I will meet you at the river, I said resignedly, remembering my daily
swimming sentence.
"Nay, Marian, today all in Methentaurond save the wardens of the march
will rest. I will see you back to your talan."
Then I remembered Callo and the vial of herbal medicine in my pocket.
That won't be necessary, I said defiantly. I have a promise to keep
before I rest
"Would you like me to ease the pain in your feet first?"
No thank you, I said, and stared unseeing at a spot beyond his head.
"Until the evening meal then," he said, quietly gauging my expression.
Then he stood up and left me by the water, alone.
*The Two Towers, J.R.R. Tolkien **Hail Lord Haldir! ***Autumn
* * * * * THE TALE OF MARIAN
CHAPTER 12 - RESPECT AND TRUST
7 & 8 September
Lord Haldir tipped the goblet to his lips and sipped the last of my
wine, his hand still cradling my hand around the stem, but this time
he did not put the goblet down. Instead, he tightened his grip firmly
but not painfully, and removed the goblet a hair's breadth away from
his lips. I could feel his pulse in his fingers now, warm and strong
and reassuring. Slowly, gazing at me intently, he turned the goblet
until I could feel his breath on the back of my hands, and pressed his
parted lips quite fully to my flesh.
A shudder of surprise and excitement ran through me. What was this?
Some elven ritual? Was he testing me? Taunting me? Or did I
actually affect him in some small way? Was he showing me that he
welcomed the desire he had so easily read in me?
I looked questioningly from my hand to his face, realizing that I was
breathing harder, faster than I should be. His eyes had grown darker,
and instead of coldness they now hinted at a secret, inner fire,
controlled but so intense that it astounded me. Feeling me shudder,
he drew in his breath and I felt his pulse quicken and throb in his
fingers.
For a moment time seemed to stop altogether. It had been so long, so
long since I had felt this way! So completely focused on him was I,
so acutely aware of every nuance of his expression that the rest of
the world melted away from my perception. What followed, followed in
vivid slow motion.
His free hand found my cheek, his warm fingers traveling from there
through my hair until they cupped the back of my neck. With apparent
reluctance, he let his lips fall away from my hand, only to pull me
forward, not quite against him, and place them tenderly on my own. He
pressed, stroked the surface of my lips with his in such an
undemanding yet sensual way that I knew he was showing me what the
kiss could be, waiting for a response that would deny him or give him
permission to continue. This tantalized me, inflamed my desire for
him far beyond what any bolder, more assuming kiss ever could have.
Yet I hesitated. I did not enter into physical encounters lightly,
knowing that I could never do so without investing my heart as well,
knowing how naïve I could be about another's intentions. It was
impossible for me to walk away from intimacy as casually as so many
others could. It was too hard, too painful for me to let go.
I thought my heart would burst, it was pounding so hard. I had not
given him the assurance he had been seeking, for he began to pull
away, sucking on my lips slightly as he did so, a thrilling hint of
the skill he possessed, and utterly, heartrendingly final: If I let
him withdraw I would see that cold curtain close again in his eyes,
shield his thoughts, and I would never, never feel his kiss again.
No! My head screamed and I reached up to grasp his neck with my free
hand, leaning forward, finally daring to respond, daring to risk my
heart on my intuition that he was too honorable to want me as just a
dalliance. I never gave a thought to insulting him by playing hard to
get - I knew instinctively that he would not tolerate such games,
especially not from someone who could not play them with expertise.
No! I was not willing to let it end with this one precious, short
kiss that would torment me endlessly. I wanted to taste him, revel in
his warm, heady masculinity and the feeling of his skin on mine, feel
his heart beat and his chest rise and fall with each breath that he
took. I wanted to drown in his lips, be enveloped in his arms.
Guard my heart indeed! I was helplessly, hopelessly lost.
The moment that he felt me react to him he released my hand, and the
goblet fell, clanking and rattling onto the floor. His hand flew to
cup my jaw, his fingers splayed along my neck, and he claimed my mouth
completely and passionately with his own. He tasted slightly of
wine, slightly of almonds, and otherwise deliciously, silkenly
tasteless as his tongue, his lips explored me in earnest.
I grew more and more intoxicated by the feel of him, and I ran my
hands up through his marvelous, golden hair as I had imagined doing,
caressing the proud tips of his ears with my fingers, wanting to feel
their strangeness, their texture, their strength. Instantly I felt
him half-gasp, half-groan, and a wave of tension swept through him.
His mouth slid over my cheeks, my brow, and he lowered his eyelids,
his dark, luxurious lashes grazing his marble cheeks, and he muttered
my name, over and over, until I thought I would either faint or
explode.
"Marian," he whispered, his voice low, intimate, and strained.
"Marian. . . "
"Marian," he repeated, louder, more insistently this time, his voice
higher, lowering his hands to incongruously shake my shoulders.
"Marian, wake up! You will be late!"
What? I was rising out of a long tunnel, blinking my eyes into focus,
gasping for breath. My eyes cleared, and I found myself staring into
Allinde's concerned face.
Marian, I'm sorry, but you didn't answer me so I came inside, she
said. Are you all right? Are you having a nightmare?
Yes, I answered groggily, yes, a nightmare.
Or at least a dream that shocked me, I thought. It was so vivid, so
full of color and atmosphere, so tactile and real that I was exhausted
and still more than a little aroused. I didn't have dreams like this
- I rarely ever dreamed of things I would actually LIKE to dream
about. Usually I dreamed in black and white of something boring and
stupid like wandering through a big, unfamiliar house - vacuuming.
I'm fine, Allinde, thank you, I reassured her. What am I late for?
What time is it?
It is not yet mid-morning, she replied. Did I not receive the
message, Allinde asked me, that Lord Haldir wished me to join him
early this morning? He would already have been waiting some time, and
one did not incur Haldir's wrath by keeping him waiting. He took it
as a personal and professional insult, a sign of incompetence and
disrespect, she warned. It was his military background, she added
dryly.
Great. Just what I needed, I thought. I was already incompetent and
I hadn't even started yet. As I sat up wearily Allinde showed me that
she had brought Lord Haldir's clean clothes back from the laundry for
me to take to him.
I groaned. I had forgotten all about them!
How was I supposed to get the message, I asked Allinde as I hopped on
one foot, pulling on my hiking pants. No one had been here, unless
they knocked and I slept through it.
Vanime, Allinde replied. She was one of Lord Haldir's pages, among
other things.
I would have to ask Allinde what "other things" were later. I threw
on a tank top and my one pair of tennis shoes, grabbed the robes and
headed out the door, thanking Allinde. I'm sure I looked like hell.
Wait, you don't know where you're going! Allinde called as she
followed me out the door. You're supposed to meet him by the lake!
Wonderful. I ran.
By the time I got to the lake I was gasping for air. I hate running
with a passion, and I hate running in the morning worse. I am not a
morning person: I'm barely civil in the morning.
I looked around, trying to catch my breath. No Haldir. I hoped he
hadn't left in disgust.
The dream I'd had was bothering me. True, it was a very fine and
convincing dream, cementing all of my feelings for this elf so that,
awake, I could no longer try to hide from myself how he haunted me.
But it had seemed so real. Could he have put it in my head somehow?
Was he toying with me? I had seen him heal my arm. I had seen him
cleanse the waters of the Linluin with only his hands and whatever
magical, ancient power he possessed. If he was messing with me, Elf
Lord or not, he would answer for it.
I heard a happy bark, which could only be Bruno. I looked in the
direction from which Bruno was bounding toward me, and there he was.
Lord Haldir straightened up from leaning against one of the pillars by
the lake, against which he had almost been invisible. He had his
hands planted firmly on his hips and a stiff, erect posture that did
not bode well for me. I greeted Bruno, which netted me a slobbered-on
wrist, and jogged over to where he stood, still short of breath,
offering him his robes back and apologizing for being late.
He took the robes silently and hung them on a branch, then turned to
me with his eyebrows arched and a very, very Army-Sergeant's
disciplinary look on his face. I wouldn't have been surprised if he
had barked out for me to drop and do twenty.
"I will not humor you by asking why you are late," he began.
That was just fine, because I wasn't going to rat on someone to save
my skin without knowing what had really happened.
I looked at him closely. Could this be the same elf that I had just
dreamed about? I searched for any sign of confirmation that he knew
what had occurred, but he was as unreadable as the granite rocks on
the lakeshore. My scrutiny in the face of his admonishment must have
irritated him further, for in spite of the fact that I didn't think
his eyebrows could rise in disdain any farther, they did.
I lowered my head in shame. Then I looked up under my lashes to see
if his eyebrows had lowered yet. Fat chance. I was in for it.
"To be an effective leader," he said in a clipped tone, "you must rise
earlier than others, be prepared when they awaken. You will rise at
dawn from this day forward and meet me here."
I didn't know you were so intent on appearances, I wanted to say, but
bit my tongue. I knew he wasn't that shallow. I was just feeling
grumpy and embarrassed. Besides, I was enamored of his appearance at
the moment. He wore only dark grey tights and a matching close-
fitting, long sleeved undershirt, which was pushed up over his
forearms in a way that I had always thought made men's arms look
muscular and sexy and capable. It made his look incredible.
"To be a strong leader you must keep your body strong. Come," he
ordered, and he took off running down the path beside the lake,
followed closely by a delighted Bruno.
I'm not a dog, I muttered under my breath at his choice of words. I
think he heard me.
Great: more running. I never, never ran. I would last about three
minutes, I thought, and jogged after them. They had both already
rounded the upper end of the lake and started up the walk along the
river's edge.
Still breathless from my race to the lake and struggling to keep up
with them, I called out that there was a reason it was called a
"walk." He ignored me. Bruno ignored me. Maybe if I just focused on
Haldir's form in front of me I could keep going. There were, after
all, worse things to follow than Haldir's very fine ass.
Wasn't this supposed to be about the time my second wind was supposed
to kick in, I wondered, because it wasn't kicking. I hate running, I
yelled at Haldir's behind, gasping and starting to get a sideache. I
LOATH running!
Mercifully or not, he backtracked to me.
"What method of physical training. . . do. . . you. . .
prefer?" he inquired in a measured tone. He wasn't even breathing
hard.
I don't know, anything but this, I begged: Tennis; dancing; swimming,
I offered at random, gulping for air and resting my hands on my knees,
upon which Bruno instantly licked my nose. Yuck.
"Swimming," he repeated close to my ear and circled me casually. His
hands were back on his hips like a cat that was confident its prey was
no longer capable of fleeing.
Oh no, I groaned, suddenly remembering the Linluin.
"'A punishment to fit the crime,' is, I believe, the mortal saying,"
he purred. The shiver that ran up my spine when his breath tickled my
neck was not altogether pleasant.
What are you doing, I asked in panic as he stepped to the bank and
methodically stripped off every piece of his clothing. He turned
completely toward me expectantly, with not even the tiniest bit of
modesty.
He was as magnificent as I had imagined him to be, and more. He was
the male perfection that Michaelangelo might have strived for when he
sculpted his David, but hadn't quite captured. For one thing, Haldir
was, well, better endowed than the David. I had always thought that
the David had been a bit cheated in that regard anyway.
I recalled the warmth of this elf's kisses in my dream, and what might
have followed if Allinde hadn't woken me up. Too late, I realized
that I had been caught admiring him again.
I need to go back for my bathing suit, I said hopelessly, my face
probably turning several shades of red.
"The water is swift. Clothing will only encumber your movements," he
said reasonably and completely without emotion. He shifted his weight
and raised his powerful arms to tie his hair back, and my mouth went
dry.
I hopped reluctantly toward him and the bank, removing my shoes and my
clothing down to my underwear, thanking God and all his Angels, or
Valar, or whoever, that I hadn't worn the ratty ones. I peered out at
the strong current - it looked almost manageable. Glancing around
warily, I saw a few other elves going about their own business,
ignoring us like this kind of thing happened every day. For all I
knew, it did.
I turned back around again and glared at him. His impassive, cold
stare told me that I was making him wait, again. I dismissed my
earlier fantasies that he had anything to do with my dream. It was
quite visibly obvious that he couldn't have been less interested in
me.
"Marian, all of Iluvatar's Children are beautiful after their own
fashion. Even," he challenged, staring down his nose at me, "mortals
slightly past their prime," and dove into the water.
Why, you. . . Ahhhhh! I sputtered in indignation. Bruno cocked his
head and looked at me. Shut up, I grumbled, ripping off the rest of
my clothes and jumping into the water as quickly as I could.
It wasn't as cold as I had expected, and I could stand on the
slippery, rocky bottom if I braced myself sideways against the
current. The water slid, delicious and cool and insistent, over every
surface of my body. I made my way angrily over the rocks into the
middle where Haldir had positioned himself facing upstream against the
current, the crystal-clear water streaming delectably around his lower
torso. This irritated me even more. Why did this elf continue to
affect me so intensely? Even knowing that he was goading me on
purpose, I was uncompromisingly determined to show myself worthy of
his regard.
And how long had it been since I had last gone skinny-dipping? High
school? My anger turned to elation. I caught his eye and laughed out
loud with the sheer pleasure of the water. He turned non-committally
ahead and instructed me to swim with him against the current while
holding my position in the river. Fine, I mumbled to myself. I would
show Mr. Perfect a thing or two. Except that it wasn't as easy as he
made it look. After a few clumsy attempts I found the right balance
of strokes and was able, with much effort, to keep pace with him and
the current. But my arms soon burned and I began to rely more and
more on my legs. Each time I began to slip back, I fought my way
forward again.
Would this elf never tire, never falter in his broad strokes perfectly
matched to the river's power, as though he and it were one in some
effortless dance? I sparred and parried with the current, wasting
precious energy in the process. I knew he was waiting to see when I
would give up, and this made me push myself even harder. Just on the
verge of not being able to raise my arms any more, I tried to plant my
feet back on the bottom so that I wouldn't be swept downstream. I
miscalculated. Haldir instantly dove back and caught me, pulling me
unceremoniously to shore. I lay helpless and panting on the bank, my
muscles reduced to jelly.
He threw his tunic over me and smoothly lay down next to me on the
bank.
"You are stubborn," he commented to the ceiling far above. "You are
weak. You will become stronger." His statement was not
encouragement; it was an order.
"You must achieve balance in all things," he continued lecturing me
about the error of my ways. "Push yourself to excel, but pace
yourself in the attempt. This you must also expect of your people."
I opened my mouth to protest, but he sat up and said, "I did not
demand more than you could give. You did that to yourself." I closed
my mouth. Damn it if he wasn't right.
"Go now to Allinde," he instructed, rising to pull on his tights.
Leggings, Lindir had called them. "She will meet you in the library
where you will begin to learn our language."
I stood up, clasping his shirt to my chest. My muscles felt like
mush; my stomach lurched.
I'm going. . . I started to say, and felt my skin turn hot and
tight. I knew the signs; I had overexerted myself in the water.
"Go then, but return the garment," he said, reaching out for his
shirt.
I'm going. . . to be. . . I gulped, and grabbed for his
outstretched hand to steady myself. . . sick. And I was.
The Elf Lord sighed and rolled his eyes to the vaults above, but he
didn't let go of my hand.
* * * * *
There was a fire in the grate, which Bruno immediately flopped down
next to. The large library was warm and dry and inviting.
Allinde was there, poring over an assemblage of thick, fragile-looking
volumes spread all over the large table in front of her, her lovely
profile silhouetted by the subdued light from a nearby window. She
was totally engrossed in comparing something from several of the
volumes, looking for all the world like a child who had just unwrapped
several Christmas presents at once and couldn't decide which one to
start playing with first.
You love your work, I commented as I sat down next to her.
Oh yes, she said, not losing one bit of the concentration she was
devoting to whatever she had discovered. Work makes one feel that one
is worthwhile, she said, it makes one capable. And, she said with a
twinkle in her eye, it is fun.
It is easy, she added, sitting back and tearing her eyes away from her
books, to read what someone did, what their behavior was. What is not
so easy to learn from the texts is why they did what they did. What
drove them? What inspired them? Sometimes, if you can find enough
different people writing about the same thing, you can start to get a
picture of what a person was really like. Or, you can find something
that has been lost for millennia, but is really right under everyone's
noses! It is like putting together the pieces of a puzzle.
So, what puzzle are you putting together? I asked, caught up by her
enthusiasm although I usually found history quite dry.
Can you keep a secret? She asked in a delighted whisper. She didn't
want anyone to know what she was doing, she told me, until she felt
surer of her research - for her part, she might not endure Lindir's
constant teasing if he knew.
Looking around to be sure no one was near, she declared with relish
that she was trying to discover the resting places of the Palantiri.
They were the Stones that looked far away, she said in response to my
blank look. They were made by the Eldar, perhaps by Feanor himself in
many ages past, as a gift and a comfort to Men. With them they could
gaze to the West and communicate with the elves even though they were
not allowed to travel to the Undying Lands. The elf-friends brought
them when they escaped to the Eastern Shores.
Allinde looked into the fire and quoted:
"Tall ships and tall kings
Three times three,
What brought they from the foundered land
Over the flowing sea?
Seven stars and seven stones
And one white tree."*
My father told me long ago that the Stones might have allowed the
Kings of Men to speak to each other over hundred of miles, and see
what was occurring in each of their lands in the present, and even
into the past.
Sort of like a cell phone with memory and a videocam? I asked.
Better, Allinde replied. It was supposed that no one using a third
stone could eavesdrop on the communication between two others.
What some people now would give for such secrecy! I exclaimed,
especially people who were up to no good. So what became of the
stones?
You have heard our song to Elbereth: "Na-chaered palan-diriel,": To
lands remote I have looked afar?
One, the Stone of Elendil, is reported to have last rested in the Elf
Tower Elostirion upon the Tower Hills. It looked only toward the
West, across the Sea. The High-Elves are said to have traveled for
miles to gaze into it. If one was lucky, one might glimpse Elbereth
clothed in shining white in the distance, high on the Mountain
Oiolosse, in Valinor. Such a vision would have been greatly
treasured, a sign of remembrance and faith until one felt the call of
the Sea and set sail at last into the Far West.
So one of the stones was a comfort to the Elves as well, who lived
here in Arda, I repeated. No one knows where this stone is now?
No, it was either lost, or destroyed, or forgotten long ago. Towers
have fallen; lands have changed. Few writings of Men or Elves remain
that speak of the Stones, at least those that I have been able to
find. The most recent entry is here, and she touched the open page of
a large yellowed volume bound in leather and gold leaf, from the
official records of the sons of King Elessar, the heir of Elendil.
They possessed the only two remaining stones that Men knew of - the
Stone of Orthanc and the Stone of Anor - given to them by Elessar
shortly before his death, when the eldest ascended to the throne of
Gondor. The entry is brief - times were peaceful and his sons seem to
have made little use of them. There is no hint of what became of them
after.
That's three, I interjected. What about the other four?
It was written by King Elessar himself that a third stone, the Ithil
Stone, was most likely destroyed with the Tower of Barad-dur, where
the evil Sauron was defeated for the last time. Only great heat or
fire, Elessar noted, was purported to be able to damage or shatter a
Stone.
Who was Sauron? I asked, fascinated by this glimpse into the distant
past. And we thought only ape-men walked the earth before us!
Sauron was the minion of Morgoth, Allinde explained in a low voice, a
spirit of dark treachery and immense power. Hating all that was fair
and good, Sauron schemed to destroy the world of both Men and Elves
and gain dominion over all of Arda. Our own accounts from Lothlorien
and Imladris, and those of King Elessar and his Queen Undomiel are
rich with the tale of the Rings of Power and how Sauron sought to use
the One Ring to bring all under his power. He very nearly succeeded.
If he had, Marian, Elessar would have fallen, and neither you nor I
would be here. But that is another tale, one of the greatest tales of
all.
Bruno whined and shifted by the faltering embers of the fire that had
been burning so brightly only a moment before. Allinde paused briefly
to revive the fire with dry logs and a deft touch. The air in the
library, which had become cold and heavy, began to regain its warmth.
The annals of Gandalf the great wizard, she continued, pointing to
another set of large volumes on the table, record that he suspected
the Ithil Stone to be in the tower at Barad-dur, and that Sauron might
by its use have bent the mind of the wizard Saruman to his will
through the Stone in the Tower of Orthanc that Saruman possessed.
Upon the defeat of Saruman the Stone of Orthanc was remembered, and
Gandalf returned it to Elessar, who claimed it by right.
Of the other three I have found no word.
I gazed into the fire, which now danced and glowed merrily in the
grate, thinking of Elves and Men, wizards and monsters, and saw
Allinde out of the corner of my eye, studying me like one of her
texts.
There may be other volumes about the caverns or elsewhere, she said
thoughtfully, in the hands of some forgetful or studious elf. Several
volumes here remain to be explored, though most are in Elvish. Are
you interested in helping me, Marian? It might speed your skill in
our language as well as acquainting you with our past and our way of
life.
Bruno rolled over and raised his head to look at me. Why did I feel
that even the books on the shelves were waiting for my answer?
Yes of course, I'd love to, I replied, and Bruno sighed and put his
head back down to lick his paws. What was with that dog?
It would allow me to begin to repay her for her kindness, I added, and
I shared her love of reading. Then I asked her, Lindir said that Lord
Haldir was a friend of Elessar. Weren't others of you alive at that
time, others who might know of the palantiri as well?
Yes, all of us here remaining saw the Third Age come to a close,
Allinde replied, but none have spoken more of the Stones than I have
told you. Lindir alone may know more than he speaks of, but he holds
them to be of no interest, being instruments of Men. He would scoff
and say nothing if I asked about them.
What if I asked him, I said. I'm supposed to learn about everything,
remember?
Allinde grinned a Cheshire-cat grin, and I felt as if I had gained a
sister. Just be tactful, she warned. Lindir can recognize a
conspiracy many miles away.
Can YOU keep a secret? I asked. Allinde nodded her head and looked
at me expectantly.
I threw up on Lord Haldir's shirt this morning.
But, I added as Allinde doubled over with laughter, at least he wasn't
wearing it this time.
Allinde declared that I might never be free from the laundry if I did
not mend my ways. She showed a massive amount of control by not
asking me why I was with Lord Haldir when he didn't have his shirt on.
I think I will keep her guessing for a while. She'll enjoy the
mystery.
Then she asked me quite seriously if Lord Haldir had been angry with
me. No more than I deserved, I replied. He was quicker to find fault
lately than was his nature, she confided carefully, and her voice
carried concern as well as deep respect. She said that I must give him
time to accept me.
* * * * *
The rest of that morning was spent learning the elvish alphabet with
Allinde, which was more like learning beautiful calligraphy. I
decided then and there that a linguist would be first on my list of
people to bring to Methentaurond. I could draw, but being fluent in
only one language, I would be a weak and slow learner of Elvish.
Allinde also granted me all of the blank notebooks I could desire, as
I told her my journal was almost full and I must write down everything
I learned, draw everything I saw each day or risk forgetting. I was
not as quick as when I was younger, I said, and saw that she could not
comprehend that the mortal mind slowed as the body aged. And I would
not have the luxury of asking again after the elves were gone, I
added. This she understood.
Then Allinde declared that as we had some time before Gladrel expected
me, I must accept from her some female essentials that I had doubtless
not carried with me. She presented me with a hairbrush and hand
mirror of burnished silver that looked like priceless antiques, and a
simple but elegant grayish-green gown that she said she did not need,
though I doubted it. Soon I must go with her to Vanime for some gowns
and slippers of my own, for surely I would tire of leggings before
long, she said, looking pointedly at my hiking pants and shoving me
and Bruno out the door.
Since I was meeting Gladrel in the herb gardens near the kitchens of
the Great Hall instead of in the more distant greenhouses, I could
take the time to finally unpack in earnest.
This meant that I had to drag Bruno with me back to my rooms and then
to the gardens before meeting Lord Haldir back at the stables.
Although I had never allowed the big mutt inside my house back home,
he seemed to think it was his right to barge right into my new
quarters as soon as I opened the door.
Make yourself at home, I commented as he sniffed around the front room
and then padded into the back and immediately threw himself onto my
bed.
Oh no, I said. No, no, no. Down Bruno, I ordered, and received a
blank stare in return.
I am your master, not your friend, I reminded him. Now get down. The
floor is yours; the bed is mine.
Bruno buried his nose in the covers.
That does it, I declared, and bodily shoved his big furry butt off
onto the rug. Now stay, I admonished as I turned to place the brush
and mirror that Allinde had given me on the dressing table. Whipping
around, I caught him putting his paws back up onto the bed, poised to
haul himself up onto it again.
Bruno, I threatened, and his tail wagged.
Down or out, I said with finality, and to my surprise he laid back
down on the rug. Then I remembered Lord Haldir's words - obedience
must have its own rewards. Good Bruno, I said, and went over to
scratch him behind the ears. Good dog.
Now, I told him, let's make use of that wardrobe.
It didn't take long for me to empty the remaining contents of my
backpack onto the bed. The flashlight was apparently off limits here,
so I shoved it into the back of the bottom dressing table drawer.
There were lovely, fragrant candles set about my rooms and one of the
many starry lanterns by my door anyway. I followed suit with the
meager remainders of my dehydrated food, my tiny camp stove, and the
rest of my miniature hiking gear. The less than useful GPS/compass I
put on the table in the front room. I might as well take some time
later and learn to use it properly. I would doubtless need it when I
left to gather my little band, if I was ever to find my way back.
Ironically, I mused, people would probably think I had become a crazy
cult leader before I was through.
At last I gathered my few utilitarian clothes and Allinde's gown.
Moving a fern and the heavy curtain aside, I opened the stately
wardrobe in the small alcove off of the bedroom. Someone had
obviously overlooked the alcove when they had prepared these rooms,
however. The wardrobe was not empty.
Three padded silver hangers hung on a slim silver rod in the corner of
the wardrobe, from which draped white cotton-like dust covers with
ties down their fronts. A lidded basket rested on a shelf above.
I pulled the first hanger forward and gently unlaced the ties. Inside
the cover was a slender, sleeveless cream-colored slip of fine weave,
with satin edging and spaghetti-straps. It would fall in simple lines
to the lower calf on a tall woman, or elf. Perhaps it had been a
nightgown for an elegant lady.
Re-lacing the ties, I slipped the next, much heavier hanger forward
and peeked inside the dust cover. Inside was a deep blue velvety
gown, the color rich as a night sky. It was full-length with a slight
train and a wide, scooped neckline whose full sleeves would rest far
out on the shoulders and drape nearly to the ground. Lighter blue
chiffon trim embroidered with silver thread was corded along the
neckline and capped the tops of the sleeves at the shoulders. A
ceremonial garment, I guessed, much finer than the gowns that the
elleths here wore daily.
The final hanger, farthest back in the wardrobe, was mid-weight
between the other two. I unlaced the bows to open the cotton cover,
and gasped. Inside was a long gown fit for Cinderella's ball. A
transparent but substantial fabric of woven gold with ribbon lacing
was draped over a long peach slip that felt like a liquid river of
silk. Gold thread in diamond patterning was woven through the outer
garment, with golden beaded leaves glittering in the soft light
falling through the glass roof of my rooms. Reverently I closed the
cotton cover that protected this treasure. On tiptoes, I lifted the
basket from its perch. Under the lid of reeds were slippers of the
same peach silk as the gown, with delicate gold beading; slippers made
to dance in. Turning them over I saw that they had been worn, but
only briefly or by a very light-footed elf, for there was only the
faintest sign of wear.
Imaginings of a distant past, of fuller, happier, younger times filled
my vision, and I felt at once that I was intruding on someone's
privacy. I returned the slippers to their place high on the shelf,
and closed the wardrobe doors. I would find some other place to store
my clothing.
Retreating from the alcove, I closed the heavy curtain and returned
the stand with its fern to its position in front of the curtain. I
then shoved my pants and shirts into another dresser drawer and hung
Allinde's gown on a hook on the back of the door, and sat on the bed.
How sad that these things were so loved, and yet had been left here
abandoned and forgotten. I would have to ask later what was to be
done with them. Looking at Bruno, I asked aloud whose cherished
memories, what elleth's fair past did these garments whisper of.
Bruno considered my question for a moment, then yawned and rose to his
feet.
It was time to meet Gladrel.
Come on, I said to Bruno as I walked into what I was beginning to call
the parlor. I selected the first of the notebooks and labeled it
"PLANTS", while Bruno padded out after me. This was quite an
improvement in his behavior after only one day.
Maybe, I told him as I led him out into the airy cavern, there is hope
for both of us yet.
* * * * *
Gladrel was a serious whirlwind of energy and efficiency. She spoke
little, but what she did say imparted a wealth of information and
wisdom. I almost thought I could see the plants in the herb garden
visibly respond to her ministrations. Her voice was like magic. At
the risk of sounding crazy, from what I could see it was more like the
plants actually told her what they needed, and she gave it to them.
Even the best green-thumbed mortal, who I was not, would need a world
of science behind her to understand what she could with only a touch.
By the time that Gladrel and her assistants released me that
afternoon, the first pages of my notebook were brimming with
instructions and sketches of herbs, many of which I had never seen
before. My mind was whirling with the new and wondrous things I had
begun - only begun - to learn. I would need to find an army, it
appeared, to even begin to replace her. A microbiologist? A
botanist? A Master Gardener? Did I know twenty Master Gardeners that
I could talk into believing in elves?
What if some of these herbs could cure diseases, like cancer or
Alzheimers, I asked her in excitement. Why had the elves not shared
them before?
Was it wise of my bretheren to treat only the symptoms of Arda's
malaise, she asked me in return, or to seek to repair the cause? She
did not know if the ancient herbs would assist Men or not, she said
more kindly. She only knew that they would grow now in Methentaurond,
if nurtured, and nowhere else. They would soon be mine to do with
what I thought best.
She showed me the herbs that were at their peak and which would mature
in a different season, and we picked a variety of seeds to store and
stems to hang. Choosing several dried leaves and flowers from the
drying house, she then took me across a narrow yard to the kitchens
where she and a chef's assistant taught me to prepare an infusion of
herbs that would ease Callo's breathing, which I was disturbed to
learn had become somewhat shallow since yesterday. Then she sent me
and Bruno away back down the garden path with a precious vial of the
infusion and a promise to deliver it to Callo by the next morning.
On the way back down the paths to meet Lord Haldir I looked through
each of the several arbors that edged the herb gardens as I passed,
and the view and fragrance through one in particular caught my eye. I
stepped into the opening, and hesitated. Glancing back, I saw Gladrel
still standing where we had parted. She made a graceful shooshing
motion with her hands. I shrugged, and started to enter.
But as I turned to step through the opening a horn pealed clearly
once, then twice, resonating throughout the caverns.
No time for dog training now - follow me! Gladrel called as she broke
into a run back toward the kitchens.
Bruno and I caught up with her in the pantries, where she was quickly
and efficiently filling large baskets with containers of a white
powder that I recognized as sulfur, honey and other ingredients and
handing them one at a time to waiting elves. All smiles and excited
conversation, they set off in pairs through the Great Hall and out
into the caverns, practically dancing as they went.
I relaxed a little; whatever was happening, it seemed to be a joyous
occasion and not a dangerous one as I had feared.
Her task completed, Gladrel turned and blinked at me as if remembering
all at once that I was still there. Bruno barked and paced in happy
agitation.
It would be better for you to return your dog to the stables now.
Join us at the end of the last greenhouse. I will wait for you there,
she instructed and ran skipping out of the kitchen. Reticent Gladrel,
skipping. Something was definitely up.
But what's going on? I called after her.
The last of the Gatherers have returned safely from the forest! She
called and disappeared with her basket through the doors of the Great
Hall.
After feeding and settling Bruno down in the stables, I rushed out
along the deserted paths and rounded the corner of the last
greenhouse, discovering at once why the rest of Methentaurond seemed
to be empty: Everyone was gathered here instead. The elves stood in
a large, boisterous semicircle facing toward two of the huge tree-
pillars, which had been hung festively with lanterns and greenery.
But the elves were each so tall that I could see nothing more.
There you are! Gladrel squeezed around a pair of silver-haired elves
and took me by the arm, pulling me forward through the crowd.
There in front of the twin pillars was a series of vats. At one side
was a large stack of barrels, and on the other side were row upon row
of large baskets, full to the brim with berries of all sorts:
blackberries and huckleberries and salmonberries, overflowing and
spilling onto the ground like huge cornucopias of plenty. In the
middle of it all, an open bottle of wine in hand, was Lord Haldir
himself.
Gladrel brought me up to stand with her near the foremost vat. Lord
Haldir, resplendent in deep burgundy robes with waistband, neckpiece
and circlet of silver, leaped up to balance effortlessly on the vat's
edge and raised his hand. The crowd quieted in anticipation.
Ai Hír Haldir!** A strong voice called from the side of the gathering
near the baskets, and the crowd parted to reveal Barunir, whom I
recognized from my not-so-dignified first day in Methentaurond. He
strode forward, head held high, waist-length brunette hair twined with
ivy, clothed in a tunic and leggings of rich purplish-black
embroidered with green stitching in the shapes of grape leaves. He
carried a silver platter on his head, brimming with berries, which he
removed to hold before the Elf Lord with a flourish and a bow.
Lord Haldir stepped down from the vat and approached Barunir, placing
his free hand on his heart in greeting. "Mae govannen, Gatherer," he
said clearly for all to hear. "What bring you?"
I bring the harvest of the forests of Iavas***, the gifts of Yavanna,
my Lord, replied Barunir proudly.
Taking a blackberry from the platter and tasting it, Lord Haldir
replied, "These sweet gifts I accept, Barunir o Methentaurond a
Imladris. May you have the praise of the Valar!" The crowd broke
into applause and song.
Then, receiving the platter from Barunir, he held it out to Gladrel,
who produced two gleaming silver goblets from her basket and placed
them beside the berries on the tray. The elves again became silent.
"May the Valar bless this good harvest, and may the vintage of the
year now past impart to the new its wisdom, its richness, and its
grace," Lord Haldir said, and he dropped a berry from the tray into
each of the goblets, then poured wine from the open bottle into each
of them as well. Gladrel then presented one of the goblets to Lord
Haldir and the other to Barunir, and they drank. A great cheer went
up from the assembled elves.
Standing behind Gladrel by the vat in front of the crowd, I was
beginning to feel rather foolish and decided that perhaps now would be
a good time to start slowly backing into the crowd. But before I
could move a furtive muscle, Lord Haldir turned to me and held out his
hand. A hundred pairs of curious eyes trapped me where I stood.
Damn.
"But of this harvest we will make a New Thing," he declared, leading
me forward to where Allinde and Lindir stood beside Callo, who was
resting on a small palfrey. Lord Haldir then faced me in front of the
assembly. Gone for the moment was the haughty, sarcastic tone that I
had tried to harden myself to, gone was the ice in his stare, and his
eyes were filled wisdom and kindness.
"Before this year has passed," he continued, "we will leave the woods
that bore us and travel to the Sea, to the ready ships of the Grey
Havens, where we will take the way Westward to the land of our people
at last. Those who are parted from us for a time," he said, and
looked at Callo, his voice deep with emotion, "we will find anew in
the Blessed Realm, when the time of Waiting has passed." Then he
faced me again. "This last vintage of the Elves shall remain as a
parting gift to Men, a symbol of their inheritance. Will you accept
it, adaneth elf-friend?"
I opened my mouth to respond but I could not speak. The reality of
the Elves' plight weighed on me, and I thought, standing there, that I
understood them perhaps for the first time: their love for this
Earth, their sadness and envy at leaving, their sureness and faith in
their destiny on a far distant shore that none of them save those who
had left before them had ever seen. And this elf, this glorious being
that stood before me and that I was growing to respect and care for
ever more deeply, would soon be gone from this place, and from me,
forever.
Lord Haldir waited patiently, and squeezed my hand.
At last I found the words that I wanted, and with my hand on my heart,
bowed low.
I accept it, my Lord, with gratitude from all of my people for the
gifts that you grant us, and the wisdom and grace that you entrust to
us. They are irreplaceable gifts, as are the Elves, and I have vowed
to keep them safe and use them as wisely as I am able. I wish to be
the best of friends to you while you remain, and I wish you safe
passage when you leave, though it saddens me greatly that this must be
so. When the first bottle of this new vintage is opened, I will raise
a toast to the Elves such as this world has never heard. This vintage
will inspire the next, and it the next. So will you be with us
always, and so will you be remembered.
"Then let the begetting of the wine begin!" Lord Haldir declared, and
threw the contents of the silver tray into the vat. He removed his
outer robes and set them aside, and pushed up his sleeves. The rest
of the elves followed suit, and the songs began anew. Some hefted the
baskets of berries into the vats, some entered the vats and began
crushing the harvest, and some stood by with large mixing paddles.
Others rolled barrels into readiness where the juice would be drained
from the vats and Gladrel's other ingredients added.
"My Lord, you said?" Lord Haldir commented to me wryly. One corner of
his lip was curled slightly and his eyes danced. In fact, he appeared
to be very pleased, happy even.
All right, I respect you, I admitted grudgingly, and I offer you my
friendship. I want to repay you, somehow, for what you are doing for
me.
"I welcome your friendship, Marian, and the respect due a teacher from
his student, the obedience of a youth toward her elder. But your
servitude I will not accept.
Look about," he said with a broad sweep of his hand. "This event
brings joy to all, and all share in it. Each person contributes, in
his own way, to its success. Even the sentries and the wardens in the
forest will be relieved so that they may partake in the effort. No
one is unnecessary or forgotten. Do you understand?"
I understand, I said.
"Then remove your shoes and pull up your leggings, Marian," he
ordered, and he sat me up on the edge of the vat as the elves
continued to empty their baskets into it. "Unless, of course, you
want them to quickly become purple."
I doubt they would add the proper element to the crush, I said as I
kicked off my shoes.
"Indeed," he replied.
"Do not ask of your people," he said as he placed his strong hands
around my waist and lowered me into the vat, "anything that you would
not do yourself."
Why does every lesson you teach me involve removing at least one
article of clothing? I asked him, my hands resting on his broad
shoulders.
"Do not question my methods, young one," he said huskily, and he drew
me forward, his hands still on my waist; his eyes even with mine due
to my higher position on the floor of the vat. If he leaned but a
little closer, our lips might touch.
Seeming to recover himself, he removed his hands from my waist and
stepped back, but not before one of his silver-gold locks of hair slid
over the edge of the vat. A wicked thought entered my head, and I
smirked and twirled the silken lock on my finger.
"Do not even think," Haldir warned me sternly, " to turn that thought
into deed, lest it carry the dearest of penalties."
I only suggest, I said in all innocence, bending my knees to reach
back for a handful of berries, that your hair would look marvelous
with purple tips, don't you agree? It is, after all, a royal color.
. .
Yanking his hair out of my hand, he turned and took a basket from a
nearby elf, and heaved it at me. Only a quick duck saved me from a
blackberry bath. The elves around us smiled and shook their heads.
"The arrow is mightier in the hand that holds the bow," Lord Haldir
laughed, and his laughter was as musical and enchanting as the sound
of bells. And, just in case I was too dumb to get it, he added, "or
the basket."
We worked long into the night and the wee hours of the morning, Lord
Haldir working hardest of all, until the last bit of juice was safely
corked in the final barrel. When we were thirsty we had wine or
water; when we were hungry we ate berries and apples. Finally the
task was done. The vats were cleaned, the pulp was carried away to
the weavers where it would be boiled and strained for dye; the dregs
would be given to Gladrel for compost. The elves began walking off to
their homes. I wandered over to sit on the bank by the water; my feet
hurt and my legs were sore.
Lord Haldir came and sat beside me in silence.
Jason would have loved this, I told him, as I stared into the water
feeling somewhat homesick. Well, not necessarily the working part,
but the drinking and partying part.
"I suspect that your Jason can work hard when called upon to do so."
Very hard, but I would never tell anyone - it would ruin his
reputation, I said, and Lord Haldir smiled.
What is this river called, I asked him.
"Do you not know?"
Tired, I looked up into the deep gray-blue pools of his eyes and tried
to think. Didn't anyone in this place ever give a direct answer to a
question? Not this elf, or Lindir either. It was beyond irritating.
Sighing and gazing back at the water, I admitted to myself that this
elf's evasiveness, his questions that seemed to spring out of nowhere,
were lessons in themselves if I could but grasp them. He was like the
most frustrating of professors whose classes I had suffered through in
college, who instead of spoon-feeding their students, threw out the
ingredients like a puzzle and then challenged you to put the puzzle
together; who waited, smug and amused, to see how long it would take
you to figure it out. How I resented them at the time! How they
drove me mad! Yet as I grew older I came to see that they had been
the best teachers I had ever had.
I tried to think back to everything that I had seen or been told about
the water in the caverns, from the waterfalls cascading around and
below the Great Hall, to the bathing pools, the lake, and the laundry.
Then I heard Lindir's words echo in my head: ". . .if the water
should become tainted . . ."
But we were swimming in it; the elves were washing in it! Yet, I
thought, these things took place below the Hall, below the dwellings,
and they cleansed it before it moved on. No, what I was thinking
didn't make sense - it was too far away!
I looked back at Lord Haldir, who was waiting for me with a rather
smug, yet quite dignified look on his face, and I decided to take a
leap past logic.
I believe, I ventured, that you call it the Linluin.
He continued to wait silently.
And. . . I should not have bathed outside in the pool of the same
name because - because it is your water supply.
He still waited wordlessly.
But that doesn't make sense, I argued aloud with myself. It's six
hours away!
He raised an eyebrow, and the light danced in his eyes in the most
superior, irritating way.
You didn't! I accused him, and stood up, shifting my weight from sore
foot to sore foot, thoroughly pissed off. You made me walk SIX HOURS
in a circle IN A BLINDFOLD for NOTHING! I yelled at him. How funny
WAS IT, I seethed and stomped for good measure, all of you smiling and
laughing at me behind my back!
"Marian, sit down," he said calmly.
"Sit down," he repeated when I crossed my arms and stuck out my chin,
and I knew from the absolute authority of his voice that I had better
do as he said. So I sat down with my arms still crossed, and pouted
at him.
"Do not be hurt - we did it not for our amusement, but for our
security."
You could have trusted me, I retorted.
"No Marian, we dared not do so, not then."
You still don't trust me.
He was silent.
Show me where it really is, I asked him. Show me where it comes into
the caverns. I silently begged him to trust me. Trust me, trust me, I
repeated in my head. Earning his trust had become the most important
thing in the world to me.
"In due time," he replied. My heart sank, and a tiny seed of
rebellion planted itself in my mind.
I looked away from him, then up to a clear vault to see that it was
morning. Lord Haldir and I were now alone.
I will meet you at the river, I said resignedly, remembering my daily
swimming sentence.
"Nay, Marian, today all in Methentaurond save the wardens of the march
will rest. I will see you back to your talan."
Then I remembered Callo and the vial of herbal medicine in my pocket.
That won't be necessary, I said defiantly. I have a promise to keep
before I rest
"Would you like me to ease the pain in your feet first?"
No thank you, I said, and stared unseeing at a spot beyond his head.
"Until the evening meal then," he said, quietly gauging my expression.
Then he stood up and left me by the water, alone.
*The Two Towers, J.R.R. Tolkien **Hail Lord Haldir! ***Autumn