Title: The Tale of Marian
Chapter: 17/?
Rating: PG this chapter.
Pairing: OFC/Haldir
Genre: Adventure/Romance/perhaps a little Angst
Timeline: AU, modern times.
Beta: Kara Tanner
Feedback: Welcomed, begged for, appreciated.
Warnings: Angst. Lots of it.
Author's Note: See Chapter 1 for disclaimer.
* * * * * THE TALE OF MARIAN
CHAPTER 17 – Who Then Can Warm My Soul?*
18 September
The Elf Lord has spoken: I am leaving tomorrow.
My heart is doubly broken. I can't seem to stop crying - how can one
person have so many tears to shed? The very foundation I have relied
on is but a phantom now shattered into nothingness; the future that I
had begun to construct was built only in my imagination, on shifting
sands that only pretended to be solid ground. Things I thought were
real and true have turned out to be something else entirely. Which
thing hurts the worst I cannot say. But oh God help me, I hurt so
much!
I went to him last night - I couldn't help myself. I threw on the
delicate robe that Allinde had brought me and ran down the meandering
path past tree-pillars and across bridges until I stood catching my
breath under the fragrant vines of the trellis at the top of the
terrace steps.
He stood still with his back to me in leggings and undershirt. In the
subdued lantern-light I could see from the profile of his sculpted
muscles that his posture was strained. His hands were tense where
they gripped the terrace railing, his attention on some spot in the
garden below. I was nervous at the prospect of disturbing him, but I
had come this far and would not turn back.
My Lord, I quietly called to him, for he always smiled a little when I
addressed him this way. I received no answer or acknowledgement of my
presence. Since when had he become less than absolutely aware of
everything around him?
I ventured across the terrace to stand beside him, my robe making soft
sounds with my movements. I slipped my hand over one of his on the
railing, sure that he had heard me approach.
In one lightening fluid motion he turned on me, danger shooting from
his eyes like obsidian arrows, his entire body tensed for action. The
light that surrounded him flared into brilliance. I snatched my hand
away and reeled back at the immediate overwhelming power emanating
from every part of his person. I had taken him by surprise after all.
Then he saw it was me and just as swiftly he relaxed his stance, his
features cleared and the air around his skin returned to a pure,
subdued glow.
"Marian," he said ruefully, "it is not wise to assail one of the
galadhrim so, for your own safety."
I thought you heard me, I apologized breathlessly, in awe of this
fearsome side of him that I had only glimpsed until now. I don't mean
to be such a bother, but you were in such deep thought, and. . .
something is wrong, I can tell.
He made a motion to dismiss this, but I rushed on, afraid that he
would ask me to leave before I had the chance to speak further.
My Lord, your brother - your advisor - is still not here and I think
you have need of him.
At my presumptuous statement a look that I was clearly a warning came
over his features. I was not approaching this subject tactfully at
all, but it was too late to start over. I became a little annoyed at
this display of male pride.
You told me, I said, that every leader needs an advisor, and I don't
know why but yours is not here right now, and I wish to offer myself
in his stead.
I looked at his closed, stubborn features and sighed in
discouragement.
Haldir, I began more softly, and took his hand once more. He raised
his eyebrow, I suppose, at the liberty I took in dropping his title.
I know that something is bothering you. I don't mean to pry. . .
"Then do not do so," he cautioned me. I ignored him.
. . . but I have seen you here for the past few nights - well, more
than the past few nights, I admitted when his eyes looked in mine
knowingly, and something IS wrong. I want to help, even if to listen
is all I can do.
Won't you tell me what troubles you?
"What could trouble me other than the trouble you give me each day?"
he said dryly.
The trouble I. . . don't try to change the subject, I said when I
saw the faint twinkle in his eye. I am not a child.
"No, not a child," he agreed, raising my hand and regarding my fingers
laced in his, his thoughts veiled. I waited for him to continue,
hoping he would open up to me as he so briefly had in the boughs of
the mallorn.
Are you not feeling well? I asked fearfully, and he looked at me in
surprise.
"I am well, in the way that you mean" he said, frowning, "though
somewhat uneasy in thought of late, as you have observed. But you
have cares enough of your own. Do not be burdened by the cares of the
elves as well: We are not your concern."
Not my concern? I repeated, boldly moving closer to face him. You
think so little of me, then, that I should turn my back and leave you
to face your cares alone?
"A leader must face many things alone," he lectured me and let go of
my hand. His voice held no self-pity, only ageless strength and that
same intense pride I had become accustomed to.
I turned and lowered my eyes to the garden below, oblivious to its
charms. His proud walls were too well constructed; I told myself. He
wouldn't let me in. He was not going to tell me.
He moved to stand beside me, and looked at the silent garden with me.
A leader doesn't have to face everything alone - you have told me as
much many times, I complained to the garden below.
We continued staring silently out into the flowers, side by side,
until I started to feel ridiculous. Maybe, I thought, I would have to
go now.
Then unexpectedly he said, "The way West is ever open to the immortals
and in the Grey Havens ships are ever ready to sail away forever**,"
as if quoting from something, his voice low and rich and sad.
Have you seen the Havens, I asked hesitantly, still looking over the
garden and remembering my conversation with Lindir and Corudring.
"Once, long ago," he replied, "when the Lady of Light returned to the
West. I saw her, Cirdan the shipwright, and others to their leaving."
But you did not leave with them, I prompted him a little, afraid to
push too much. You returned to the forest.
"The call of the mellyrn on that day was stronger in my heart than the
call of the Sea," he said, and I wondered if his voice held some
secret regret.
Allinde has told me that no one now knows where the Grey Havens lie,
or even if they still exist, I said. And surely Men would know if
there was a harbor with elven ships in it. I don't understand how you
will leave.
My eyes widened as I finally understood the full gravity of their
plight.
You don't know! I said, turning to stare at him. You don't know how
to leave, and you haven't told them!
"Not yet," he said, still gazing at the garden, "though the time draws
near when I must."
What can I do? I asked him.
"The departure of the elves is my responsibility, Marian, not yours,"
he said firmly, turning to look down at me. "You must concern
yourself with your own path, the path of your own people. That alone
is your responsibility. All I expect from you is to keep this
confidence."
Of course, I promised, but you can't ask me not to care, or not to try
to help, I protested, careful to hide the depth of my concern. They
could not be stranded here, to die slowly one by one. It was
unthinkable! It couldn't be what the Valar had intended!
Perhaps it doesn't matter from where you set sail, I said, trying to
comfort him, only that you do so.
"Perhaps - I do not know," he admitted reluctantly, "though I and
others have searched long for the answer."
You will find your answer. The Valar will guide you, I assured him,
drawing closer and reaching up to put my hands on his broad shoulders,
trying to show him the confidence that I had in him. I raised my head
back to look up into his eyes, for even though I was tall, he was much
taller still.
You are meant to return home, I said, and stroked his strong jaw with
my fingers, pouring all the love that I had for him into my eyes.
Haldir, I said, caressing his name with my voice, you will find a way.
He looked down at me, his dark and fathomless eyes becoming tender,
and in their now sparkling depths I thought I saw a hint of love
returned. My desire to be one with him pushing every other thought to
the back of my mind, I slipped my arms slowly under his hair and
around his strong neck. The long silken sleeves of my robe slipped
off of my arms to pool around my shoulders, and he brushed his hands
down my bare skin to enclose my upper arms in his warm grasp. My
heart flying to him, I stood on my tiptoes and kissed him.
It was like my first dream but in reverse. I pressed his full,
sensuous lips with my own, waiting to see if he would respond. For a
split second I felt his lips move over mine, felt him begin to pull me
against him. Then just as suddenly, he tightened his grip on my arms
and pushed me away, almost springing back like a wild thing escaping a
snare.
"Marian, this cannot be," he said gruffly, standing apart from me on
the terrace. "There can be nothing between us."
And my heart broke.
Was it because I was mortal and he was an elf, that he did not want
me?
But Beren and Luthien, I began, looking down at the terrace floor. .
.
"Lindir has only begun tonight to recount the Lay of Luthien, Marian.
Their fates were intertwined; ours are separate. Look at me Marian,"
he said firmly, and stepped forward again to raise my chin with his
hand. "You must stay and I must go. Such a thing as this is not
meant to be."
I searched his eyes and saw nothing but pity, and this I couldn't
bear. My eyes filled with tears, and I backed away across the
terrace.
I'm sorry, I said, I thought - I misunderstood - everything. I'm
sorry, I said, and ran through the arch and down the stairs. I
wouldn't let him see me cry; I wouldn't let him hear the agony I felt
at his rejection. I flew down the long path to the stables, where I
could be alone, and sank down in the straw. Bruno came over and
licked my face, and I broke into tears.
Sometime before dawn I had composed myself enough to walk back to my
talan and wash my face. I looked into the mirror in my bedroom at my
features, now haggard and drawn from weeping. Had the taste of my
lips offended him? Did he consider me ugly? Then I thought, how
could he be attracted to me? He was immortal. I was forty-five years
old. I was starting to get wrinkles. What elf had wrinkles? I could
live until a hundred or die tomorrow. Why would he want to spend my
remaining few years watching me turn old and die, in a blink of his
eye? Why should he possibly want me?
Then I heard a knock at the door. I smoothed my hair down as best I
could and answered it.
The elf to whom I opened the door looked at me with concern, then
composed himself. The elves were nothing if not polite. He then
informed me quickly that Lord Haldir wished me to meet him at his
talan this morning instead of at the river, and ran on down the path
to his next destination.
How could I face him this morning? I had made such a fool of myself
last night, and I still felt like bursting into tears at any moment.
I wondered if Vanimë had talked this elf into delivering Lord Haldir's
message instead of herself. Telling myself that delaying the
inevitable would only make things worse, I gathered my things and
headed toward the baths. An indirect message was at least better than
none at all.
* * * * *
Wearing the violet gown and hoping that my face didn't betray my now
fragile emotions, I nervously knocked on the front door of Lord
Haldir's talan.
"Enter," his resonant voice called from within. As I reached for the
door, however, it opened and I found Vanimë facing me, her long blond
hair damp and free from its habitual braids. Carrying a platter of
half-eaten bread and fruit, she turned a questioning glance to the
center of the room and reluctantly stepped aside to allow me to enter,
then walked out past me and closed the door.
So that's how it was, I thought painfully, and I felt my face flush
with embarrassment. Had he brought me here so that I would see the
hopelessness of my desires? I had no doubt he had the capacity to be
cruel if he wished to be, but I hadn't thought that he would be so to
me.
I looked about the room to distract myself from this depressing
thought – I had never been in his private quarters before, and the
dichotomy of its austerity and rich beauty nicely mirrored his
personality: The minimal amount of dark wooden furniture of clean,
pure lines and skillful carving; the deep red velvet curtains in the
arch that probably led to his sleeping chamber; the many-colored
tapestries on the wall whose silken threads shimmered in the light of
the white candles still burning as the caverns shed the first glow of
morning through the beveled glass dome above; the structure of the
room itself, its beautifully proportioned columns twining up and
branching out to support the dome like living, breathing plants; and
finally the orderliness and lack of clutter in the room that
emphasized the few precious objects displayed there, including, to my
bittersweet delight, a golden harp in the corner.
But these things I noticed only in passing, for as I stepped into the
room my eyes were drawn to the figure framed by the divan whose
presence easily commanded the room. In black formal leggings and
boots and a deep blue tunic that extended to his knees, Lord Haldir
reclined on one elbow with his silver-blond hair flowing over the arm
of the divan and reaching almost to the polished wooden floor. One
long leg was extended down the divan and the other propped up on the
cushions. I thought (rather viciously I admit) that if Vanimë had
still been there with a fan and a bunch of grapes, the picture would
have been complete.
As I came forward to meet him, he rose smoothly off of the divan, his
silken braids falling behind him. With my heart in my throat, I felt
that he had never looked so fair nor radiated such utter masculine
power as he did at that moment. I saw him clearly for what he was
then: Utterly unobtainable; untouchable as the stars; as untamable a
wild force as the sea itself. I blushed again at my awkwardness and
audacity in trying to win his heart.
He came toward me and reached for the outer robe that lay ready across
a nearby chair. He threw it around his shoulders, expertly binding it
at the waist with the finely tooled silver belt of his office which
had most assuredly never been worn by a horse.
I watched his marvelous hands as he did these things, wanting to kiss
his palms, his fingers, hear him react, torturing myself with the
other places that those hands might have touched, if only. . .
I looked up to see that once more he had read my thoughts but chosen
not to acknowledge them. Apparently my mind was full of an endless
variety of ways I could humiliate myself in front of him. Standing
here in his private rooms alone with him, neither of us speaking, was
becoming increasingly uncomfortable. When would he say something! I
tried to look confidently across the few feet between us, doing all
that I could to mask the pain in my eyes. His features were as still
and unreadable as most of the elvish texts that I had struggled with,
but at least he no longer looked at me with pity.
"Marian," he began, and I closed my eyes to savor the familiar, rich
timber of this voice, "presently we will join Lindir in the Council
Chambers. I wish to speak to you briefly here first."
Oh please, I begged silently, don't talk to me about last night, but
he didn't.
"The time has come for you to leave," he said matter-of-factly, and my
eyes flew open. He was sending me away, today, because of what I had
done!? Uncontrollably, my mouth began to quiver and I cursed myself
for my weakness.
"Not because of what has occurred between us," he said in a gentle
tone that tore at my heart, "but because you are ready."
He paused, but I dared not try to speak.
"I will inform Lindir that you are coming in a moment," he said,
looking at me with concern, and left the room.
Grateful for the sensitivity he had shown me and ashamed of thinking
him cruel, I took some needed moments alone to compose myself, then
followed to the Council Chambers in his wake.
Still, I wondered at what he had suddenly seen in me that told him I
was ready. Certainly I didn't feel any better prepared than before.
But if Lord Haldir said I was ready, then I was ready; I respected his
judgement far better than my own, and I knew he would not lie to me.
* * * * *
Discussing who I should bring back with me allowed me to focus on
something stable. I recited my list of the fields I would need
experts in. Lindir nodded approval at most of my choices and advised
me on the others. I expressed my concerns freely about bringing
strangers into Methentaurond. I feared that the secrecy of the elves
would be jeopardized; there was always one traitor in every group, I
said. At this, a brief but knowing look passed between Haldir and
Lindir that I almost missed. Again Lord Haldir told me that the
safety of the elves was his to ensure; I was to heed only the
achievement of my own goals.
The morning wore on. The final decision, Lord Haldir said to conclude
the conversation, would be mine alone.
I would leave tomorrow, they said. I had four months.
Four months! I protested. Four months to hike back, identify and
locate the people I would need, convince them to follow me, organize
them in secret, and return here undetected? It wasn't enough time!
It was all the time they had, Lord Haldir reminded me, and I relented.
It would have to be enough. I would be ready to leave with Bruno
first thing in the morning, I told them. I wanted to say goodbye to
Allinde and the others first, tonight.
"You will have time to say your goodbyes tomorrow," Lord Haldir said.
"We will leave at dusk and travel under safety of darkness." Then he
added when I looked at him, not understanding, "I am coming with you."
Why? It would not be safe for him! I protested at once, although I
fervently desired him to be near me. It was too risky, I said, he
would be seen, and then what would happen to him?
"They will only see what I wish them to see," he said then. I didn't
understand at all. How could he possibly hide his true nature, if for
no other reason than he would stand out for the very power of his
presence?
Marian, Lindir said then, there are elves that freely travel among
Men, live with them even for a time, and they have yet to be
discovered.
Besides, Haldir then explained, he would accompany me only as far as
the trailhead where we would meet his brother, who would assist me.
He himself had other business to attend to.
The Havens, I thought, and I nodded to him in understanding.
Four months of research, travel and preparation, I wondered again.
Where would I ever get the money? The realities of my life outside
came flooding back. I had been gone for over a month. I likely had
no job, and my mortgage, my bills! I would lose my credit. I would
have to sell my house, I realized; that in itself could take four
months! And my daughters to be provided for, and Jason - what would
they think had become of me?
My family; Jason! I exclaimed. What if someone was looking for me? I
couldn't afford that kind of attention.
"All has been seen to in your absence. Do not be dismayed," Lord
Haldir assured me.
By who? I asked in bewilderment.
At this question, a significant look passed between Lindir and Lord
Haldir, and once again I knew there were things I had not yet been
told; things I should have picked up on but hadn't. With a feeling of
dread that I couldn't justify, I waited for this new revelation.
"You have seen this painting before, is it not so?" Lord Haldir asked
obliquely, gesturing to the large mural that covered one entire end of
the Chamber.
Well, yes, I replied. I had looked at it briefly when I had
accompanied them to council sessions, but I had been more attentive to
the proceedings than to the decor. Obviously it was a commemoration
of some sort.
This was not a painting that Lindir and I had discussed.
"It is time," Lord Haldir said, "that you examine it more closely."
I accompanied them across the Chambers to stand in front of the mural.
"It celebrates the journey of departure, when the Kings of Men and
Elves, both the living and the dead, rode forth from Gondor rejoicing
in the defeat of the dark lord Sauron, to return home or depart for
the Sea.
Here rode King Elessar and his bride Arwen, daughter of Lord Elrond,"
he intoned in a voice vibrant with memory, moving his fingers across
the scene. "Elrond there was also, and his two sons. Here lay King
Theoden of Rohan's golden bier, and the halflings, and Gandalf the
White. Here also rode the Lady Galadriel and Lord Celeborn, and many
other captains and knights of Men and Elves."
That is you! I exclaimed, pointing directly behind Galadriel at the
clear likeness of Lord Haldir. With proud bearing and in golden
armor, a red cape draped from his shoulders, a long bow and quiver of
arrows at his back, he led the armed elves that walked respectfully
behind her. Can this be the armor that lies in your study, I asked
him in awe, and he said that it was.
Who is this? I asked then, pointing to an elf that walked next to him
and looked much like him though more delicate in features.
"My brother Orophin," he said fondly, "who departed into the West with
the Lady, and awaits our return."
But I thought your brother, your advisor, was here? I asked in
confusion, looking back at Orophin's likeness. Then, standing close
by Orophin, I saw a face that I knew. But that was impossible.
Who is this? I pointed at the mural and inquired with a lump in my
throat.
Lord Haldir raised his hand and touched the ring around my neck. Had
I not yet understood, he asked me?
At first I refused to believe what I saw before me. I was not willing
to let go of the reality I had known; not willing to recognize the
friend that I thought I knew so well for who and what he really was.
Then I forced myself to remember the signs I had been given: Lindir
telling me that his promise ring was not so different from Jason's;
the gestures that Lord Haldir had made that had given me such a
feeling of deja-vu; Lord Haldir, kneeling down and talking to Bruno
just the way Jason had so many times. I remembered Jason's graceful
movements, the masculine beauty of his form and his long blond hair.
And my heart broke again.
"This is my brother Rumil, whom you know well," Lord Haldir said, and
his compassionately aimed words struck me like he had thrust a sword
into my ribs.
You lied to me! I accused them, both of you!
We did not lie to you, Lindir said calmly.
You didn't tell me, and that's the same thing! I yelled at them both.
And you! I screamed, turning on Lord Haldir and pointing my finger at
him. All of those talks we had about Jason - did I have a friend?
What sign was he? You knew and you never said a thing! How could
you!? How could you!?
Lindir opened his mouth, but I pointed at him and sobbed: Don't you
tell me I wasn't ready! How could I ever be ready for this! And
Lindir closed his mouth, unsure what to do about the distraught female
in front of him.
"Marian, Rumil is a true friend," Lord Haldir began, and stepped
toward me with his arms extended as if he intended to comfort me.
I stepped back. Don't TOUCH ME! I screamed at him, and he stopped
and dropped his arms, his eyes smoky and dark, his jaws clenched, his
mouth set. Somewhere in the back of my mind I knew I was hurting him,
and stepping over a dangerous line.
He is no friend - he pretended to be my friend so that I would come
here! I hate him! I trusted him and he betrayed my trust, and so did
you! I declared in anger and misery. I trusted you, I sobbed
brokenly to Lord Haldir, I believed in you!
You are right, I spat out the words, I am ready to leave.
Yanking the chain with Jason's - no, RUMIL'S - ring off of my neck, I
threw it to clatter hollowly across the floor. I turned and ran from
him once again. And once again he let me go.
* * * * *
I didn't go to my sessions with Allinde or Gladrel today, nor to spend
my afternoons with Lindir or Lord Haldir. I didn't go to dinner in
the Hall, or listen to Lindir and the elves after. I stayed alone in
my rooms with Bruno and packed, and no one disturbed me.
I was embarrassed and humiliated: They had done a fine job of
manipulating me, Lindir and Lord Haldir and his brother - Rumil. I
had not suspected a thing. Now when I thought back I remembered
little things, and it all fit - my screensaver of the redwoods;
shopping for backpacks with Jason - no, not Jason. His friendship and
encouragement had all been a ruse. Jason did not exist.
I didn't wait for Lord Haldir to appear on the terrace tonight. I
closed my curtain to the nighttime beauty of the caverns, and sat in
the darkness with my memories that were only illusions, and the broken
shards of my dreams.
*From the song "Exile"; Enya
* * * * * THE TALE OF MARIAN
CHAPTER 17 – Who Then Can Warm My Soul?*
18 September
The Elf Lord has spoken: I am leaving tomorrow.
My heart is doubly broken. I can't seem to stop crying - how can one
person have so many tears to shed? The very foundation I have relied
on is but a phantom now shattered into nothingness; the future that I
had begun to construct was built only in my imagination, on shifting
sands that only pretended to be solid ground. Things I thought were
real and true have turned out to be something else entirely. Which
thing hurts the worst I cannot say. But oh God help me, I hurt so
much!
I went to him last night - I couldn't help myself. I threw on the
delicate robe that Allinde had brought me and ran down the meandering
path past tree-pillars and across bridges until I stood catching my
breath under the fragrant vines of the trellis at the top of the
terrace steps.
He stood still with his back to me in leggings and undershirt. In the
subdued lantern-light I could see from the profile of his sculpted
muscles that his posture was strained. His hands were tense where
they gripped the terrace railing, his attention on some spot in the
garden below. I was nervous at the prospect of disturbing him, but I
had come this far and would not turn back.
My Lord, I quietly called to him, for he always smiled a little when I
addressed him this way. I received no answer or acknowledgement of my
presence. Since when had he become less than absolutely aware of
everything around him?
I ventured across the terrace to stand beside him, my robe making soft
sounds with my movements. I slipped my hand over one of his on the
railing, sure that he had heard me approach.
In one lightening fluid motion he turned on me, danger shooting from
his eyes like obsidian arrows, his entire body tensed for action. The
light that surrounded him flared into brilliance. I snatched my hand
away and reeled back at the immediate overwhelming power emanating
from every part of his person. I had taken him by surprise after all.
Then he saw it was me and just as swiftly he relaxed his stance, his
features cleared and the air around his skin returned to a pure,
subdued glow.
"Marian," he said ruefully, "it is not wise to assail one of the
galadhrim so, for your own safety."
I thought you heard me, I apologized breathlessly, in awe of this
fearsome side of him that I had only glimpsed until now. I don't mean
to be such a bother, but you were in such deep thought, and. . .
something is wrong, I can tell.
He made a motion to dismiss this, but I rushed on, afraid that he
would ask me to leave before I had the chance to speak further.
My Lord, your brother - your advisor - is still not here and I think
you have need of him.
At my presumptuous statement a look that I was clearly a warning came
over his features. I was not approaching this subject tactfully at
all, but it was too late to start over. I became a little annoyed at
this display of male pride.
You told me, I said, that every leader needs an advisor, and I don't
know why but yours is not here right now, and I wish to offer myself
in his stead.
I looked at his closed, stubborn features and sighed in
discouragement.
Haldir, I began more softly, and took his hand once more. He raised
his eyebrow, I suppose, at the liberty I took in dropping his title.
I know that something is bothering you. I don't mean to pry. . .
"Then do not do so," he cautioned me. I ignored him.
. . . but I have seen you here for the past few nights - well, more
than the past few nights, I admitted when his eyes looked in mine
knowingly, and something IS wrong. I want to help, even if to listen
is all I can do.
Won't you tell me what troubles you?
"What could trouble me other than the trouble you give me each day?"
he said dryly.
The trouble I. . . don't try to change the subject, I said when I
saw the faint twinkle in his eye. I am not a child.
"No, not a child," he agreed, raising my hand and regarding my fingers
laced in his, his thoughts veiled. I waited for him to continue,
hoping he would open up to me as he so briefly had in the boughs of
the mallorn.
Are you not feeling well? I asked fearfully, and he looked at me in
surprise.
"I am well, in the way that you mean" he said, frowning, "though
somewhat uneasy in thought of late, as you have observed. But you
have cares enough of your own. Do not be burdened by the cares of the
elves as well: We are not your concern."
Not my concern? I repeated, boldly moving closer to face him. You
think so little of me, then, that I should turn my back and leave you
to face your cares alone?
"A leader must face many things alone," he lectured me and let go of
my hand. His voice held no self-pity, only ageless strength and that
same intense pride I had become accustomed to.
I turned and lowered my eyes to the garden below, oblivious to its
charms. His proud walls were too well constructed; I told myself. He
wouldn't let me in. He was not going to tell me.
He moved to stand beside me, and looked at the silent garden with me.
A leader doesn't have to face everything alone - you have told me as
much many times, I complained to the garden below.
We continued staring silently out into the flowers, side by side,
until I started to feel ridiculous. Maybe, I thought, I would have to
go now.
Then unexpectedly he said, "The way West is ever open to the immortals
and in the Grey Havens ships are ever ready to sail away forever**,"
as if quoting from something, his voice low and rich and sad.
Have you seen the Havens, I asked hesitantly, still looking over the
garden and remembering my conversation with Lindir and Corudring.
"Once, long ago," he replied, "when the Lady of Light returned to the
West. I saw her, Cirdan the shipwright, and others to their leaving."
But you did not leave with them, I prompted him a little, afraid to
push too much. You returned to the forest.
"The call of the mellyrn on that day was stronger in my heart than the
call of the Sea," he said, and I wondered if his voice held some
secret regret.
Allinde has told me that no one now knows where the Grey Havens lie,
or even if they still exist, I said. And surely Men would know if
there was a harbor with elven ships in it. I don't understand how you
will leave.
My eyes widened as I finally understood the full gravity of their
plight.
You don't know! I said, turning to stare at him. You don't know how
to leave, and you haven't told them!
"Not yet," he said, still gazing at the garden, "though the time draws
near when I must."
What can I do? I asked him.
"The departure of the elves is my responsibility, Marian, not yours,"
he said firmly, turning to look down at me. "You must concern
yourself with your own path, the path of your own people. That alone
is your responsibility. All I expect from you is to keep this
confidence."
Of course, I promised, but you can't ask me not to care, or not to try
to help, I protested, careful to hide the depth of my concern. They
could not be stranded here, to die slowly one by one. It was
unthinkable! It couldn't be what the Valar had intended!
Perhaps it doesn't matter from where you set sail, I said, trying to
comfort him, only that you do so.
"Perhaps - I do not know," he admitted reluctantly, "though I and
others have searched long for the answer."
You will find your answer. The Valar will guide you, I assured him,
drawing closer and reaching up to put my hands on his broad shoulders,
trying to show him the confidence that I had in him. I raised my head
back to look up into his eyes, for even though I was tall, he was much
taller still.
You are meant to return home, I said, and stroked his strong jaw with
my fingers, pouring all the love that I had for him into my eyes.
Haldir, I said, caressing his name with my voice, you will find a way.
He looked down at me, his dark and fathomless eyes becoming tender,
and in their now sparkling depths I thought I saw a hint of love
returned. My desire to be one with him pushing every other thought to
the back of my mind, I slipped my arms slowly under his hair and
around his strong neck. The long silken sleeves of my robe slipped
off of my arms to pool around my shoulders, and he brushed his hands
down my bare skin to enclose my upper arms in his warm grasp. My
heart flying to him, I stood on my tiptoes and kissed him.
It was like my first dream but in reverse. I pressed his full,
sensuous lips with my own, waiting to see if he would respond. For a
split second I felt his lips move over mine, felt him begin to pull me
against him. Then just as suddenly, he tightened his grip on my arms
and pushed me away, almost springing back like a wild thing escaping a
snare.
"Marian, this cannot be," he said gruffly, standing apart from me on
the terrace. "There can be nothing between us."
And my heart broke.
Was it because I was mortal and he was an elf, that he did not want
me?
But Beren and Luthien, I began, looking down at the terrace floor. .
.
"Lindir has only begun tonight to recount the Lay of Luthien, Marian.
Their fates were intertwined; ours are separate. Look at me Marian,"
he said firmly, and stepped forward again to raise my chin with his
hand. "You must stay and I must go. Such a thing as this is not
meant to be."
I searched his eyes and saw nothing but pity, and this I couldn't
bear. My eyes filled with tears, and I backed away across the
terrace.
I'm sorry, I said, I thought - I misunderstood - everything. I'm
sorry, I said, and ran through the arch and down the stairs. I
wouldn't let him see me cry; I wouldn't let him hear the agony I felt
at his rejection. I flew down the long path to the stables, where I
could be alone, and sank down in the straw. Bruno came over and
licked my face, and I broke into tears.
Sometime before dawn I had composed myself enough to walk back to my
talan and wash my face. I looked into the mirror in my bedroom at my
features, now haggard and drawn from weeping. Had the taste of my
lips offended him? Did he consider me ugly? Then I thought, how
could he be attracted to me? He was immortal. I was forty-five years
old. I was starting to get wrinkles. What elf had wrinkles? I could
live until a hundred or die tomorrow. Why would he want to spend my
remaining few years watching me turn old and die, in a blink of his
eye? Why should he possibly want me?
Then I heard a knock at the door. I smoothed my hair down as best I
could and answered it.
The elf to whom I opened the door looked at me with concern, then
composed himself. The elves were nothing if not polite. He then
informed me quickly that Lord Haldir wished me to meet him at his
talan this morning instead of at the river, and ran on down the path
to his next destination.
How could I face him this morning? I had made such a fool of myself
last night, and I still felt like bursting into tears at any moment.
I wondered if Vanimë had talked this elf into delivering Lord Haldir's
message instead of herself. Telling myself that delaying the
inevitable would only make things worse, I gathered my things and
headed toward the baths. An indirect message was at least better than
none at all.
* * * * *
Wearing the violet gown and hoping that my face didn't betray my now
fragile emotions, I nervously knocked on the front door of Lord
Haldir's talan.
"Enter," his resonant voice called from within. As I reached for the
door, however, it opened and I found Vanimë facing me, her long blond
hair damp and free from its habitual braids. Carrying a platter of
half-eaten bread and fruit, she turned a questioning glance to the
center of the room and reluctantly stepped aside to allow me to enter,
then walked out past me and closed the door.
So that's how it was, I thought painfully, and I felt my face flush
with embarrassment. Had he brought me here so that I would see the
hopelessness of my desires? I had no doubt he had the capacity to be
cruel if he wished to be, but I hadn't thought that he would be so to
me.
I looked about the room to distract myself from this depressing
thought – I had never been in his private quarters before, and the
dichotomy of its austerity and rich beauty nicely mirrored his
personality: The minimal amount of dark wooden furniture of clean,
pure lines and skillful carving; the deep red velvet curtains in the
arch that probably led to his sleeping chamber; the many-colored
tapestries on the wall whose silken threads shimmered in the light of
the white candles still burning as the caverns shed the first glow of
morning through the beveled glass dome above; the structure of the
room itself, its beautifully proportioned columns twining up and
branching out to support the dome like living, breathing plants; and
finally the orderliness and lack of clutter in the room that
emphasized the few precious objects displayed there, including, to my
bittersweet delight, a golden harp in the corner.
But these things I noticed only in passing, for as I stepped into the
room my eyes were drawn to the figure framed by the divan whose
presence easily commanded the room. In black formal leggings and
boots and a deep blue tunic that extended to his knees, Lord Haldir
reclined on one elbow with his silver-blond hair flowing over the arm
of the divan and reaching almost to the polished wooden floor. One
long leg was extended down the divan and the other propped up on the
cushions. I thought (rather viciously I admit) that if Vanimë had
still been there with a fan and a bunch of grapes, the picture would
have been complete.
As I came forward to meet him, he rose smoothly off of the divan, his
silken braids falling behind him. With my heart in my throat, I felt
that he had never looked so fair nor radiated such utter masculine
power as he did at that moment. I saw him clearly for what he was
then: Utterly unobtainable; untouchable as the stars; as untamable a
wild force as the sea itself. I blushed again at my awkwardness and
audacity in trying to win his heart.
He came toward me and reached for the outer robe that lay ready across
a nearby chair. He threw it around his shoulders, expertly binding it
at the waist with the finely tooled silver belt of his office which
had most assuredly never been worn by a horse.
I watched his marvelous hands as he did these things, wanting to kiss
his palms, his fingers, hear him react, torturing myself with the
other places that those hands might have touched, if only. . .
I looked up to see that once more he had read my thoughts but chosen
not to acknowledge them. Apparently my mind was full of an endless
variety of ways I could humiliate myself in front of him. Standing
here in his private rooms alone with him, neither of us speaking, was
becoming increasingly uncomfortable. When would he say something! I
tried to look confidently across the few feet between us, doing all
that I could to mask the pain in my eyes. His features were as still
and unreadable as most of the elvish texts that I had struggled with,
but at least he no longer looked at me with pity.
"Marian," he began, and I closed my eyes to savor the familiar, rich
timber of this voice, "presently we will join Lindir in the Council
Chambers. I wish to speak to you briefly here first."
Oh please, I begged silently, don't talk to me about last night, but
he didn't.
"The time has come for you to leave," he said matter-of-factly, and my
eyes flew open. He was sending me away, today, because of what I had
done!? Uncontrollably, my mouth began to quiver and I cursed myself
for my weakness.
"Not because of what has occurred between us," he said in a gentle
tone that tore at my heart, "but because you are ready."
He paused, but I dared not try to speak.
"I will inform Lindir that you are coming in a moment," he said,
looking at me with concern, and left the room.
Grateful for the sensitivity he had shown me and ashamed of thinking
him cruel, I took some needed moments alone to compose myself, then
followed to the Council Chambers in his wake.
Still, I wondered at what he had suddenly seen in me that told him I
was ready. Certainly I didn't feel any better prepared than before.
But if Lord Haldir said I was ready, then I was ready; I respected his
judgement far better than my own, and I knew he would not lie to me.
* * * * *
Discussing who I should bring back with me allowed me to focus on
something stable. I recited my list of the fields I would need
experts in. Lindir nodded approval at most of my choices and advised
me on the others. I expressed my concerns freely about bringing
strangers into Methentaurond. I feared that the secrecy of the elves
would be jeopardized; there was always one traitor in every group, I
said. At this, a brief but knowing look passed between Haldir and
Lindir that I almost missed. Again Lord Haldir told me that the
safety of the elves was his to ensure; I was to heed only the
achievement of my own goals.
The morning wore on. The final decision, Lord Haldir said to conclude
the conversation, would be mine alone.
I would leave tomorrow, they said. I had four months.
Four months! I protested. Four months to hike back, identify and
locate the people I would need, convince them to follow me, organize
them in secret, and return here undetected? It wasn't enough time!
It was all the time they had, Lord Haldir reminded me, and I relented.
It would have to be enough. I would be ready to leave with Bruno
first thing in the morning, I told them. I wanted to say goodbye to
Allinde and the others first, tonight.
"You will have time to say your goodbyes tomorrow," Lord Haldir said.
"We will leave at dusk and travel under safety of darkness." Then he
added when I looked at him, not understanding, "I am coming with you."
Why? It would not be safe for him! I protested at once, although I
fervently desired him to be near me. It was too risky, I said, he
would be seen, and then what would happen to him?
"They will only see what I wish them to see," he said then. I didn't
understand at all. How could he possibly hide his true nature, if for
no other reason than he would stand out for the very power of his
presence?
Marian, Lindir said then, there are elves that freely travel among
Men, live with them even for a time, and they have yet to be
discovered.
Besides, Haldir then explained, he would accompany me only as far as
the trailhead where we would meet his brother, who would assist me.
He himself had other business to attend to.
The Havens, I thought, and I nodded to him in understanding.
Four months of research, travel and preparation, I wondered again.
Where would I ever get the money? The realities of my life outside
came flooding back. I had been gone for over a month. I likely had
no job, and my mortgage, my bills! I would lose my credit. I would
have to sell my house, I realized; that in itself could take four
months! And my daughters to be provided for, and Jason - what would
they think had become of me?
My family; Jason! I exclaimed. What if someone was looking for me? I
couldn't afford that kind of attention.
"All has been seen to in your absence. Do not be dismayed," Lord
Haldir assured me.
By who? I asked in bewilderment.
At this question, a significant look passed between Lindir and Lord
Haldir, and once again I knew there were things I had not yet been
told; things I should have picked up on but hadn't. With a feeling of
dread that I couldn't justify, I waited for this new revelation.
"You have seen this painting before, is it not so?" Lord Haldir asked
obliquely, gesturing to the large mural that covered one entire end of
the Chamber.
Well, yes, I replied. I had looked at it briefly when I had
accompanied them to council sessions, but I had been more attentive to
the proceedings than to the decor. Obviously it was a commemoration
of some sort.
This was not a painting that Lindir and I had discussed.
"It is time," Lord Haldir said, "that you examine it more closely."
I accompanied them across the Chambers to stand in front of the mural.
"It celebrates the journey of departure, when the Kings of Men and
Elves, both the living and the dead, rode forth from Gondor rejoicing
in the defeat of the dark lord Sauron, to return home or depart for
the Sea.
Here rode King Elessar and his bride Arwen, daughter of Lord Elrond,"
he intoned in a voice vibrant with memory, moving his fingers across
the scene. "Elrond there was also, and his two sons. Here lay King
Theoden of Rohan's golden bier, and the halflings, and Gandalf the
White. Here also rode the Lady Galadriel and Lord Celeborn, and many
other captains and knights of Men and Elves."
That is you! I exclaimed, pointing directly behind Galadriel at the
clear likeness of Lord Haldir. With proud bearing and in golden
armor, a red cape draped from his shoulders, a long bow and quiver of
arrows at his back, he led the armed elves that walked respectfully
behind her. Can this be the armor that lies in your study, I asked
him in awe, and he said that it was.
Who is this? I asked then, pointing to an elf that walked next to him
and looked much like him though more delicate in features.
"My brother Orophin," he said fondly, "who departed into the West with
the Lady, and awaits our return."
But I thought your brother, your advisor, was here? I asked in
confusion, looking back at Orophin's likeness. Then, standing close
by Orophin, I saw a face that I knew. But that was impossible.
Who is this? I pointed at the mural and inquired with a lump in my
throat.
Lord Haldir raised his hand and touched the ring around my neck. Had
I not yet understood, he asked me?
At first I refused to believe what I saw before me. I was not willing
to let go of the reality I had known; not willing to recognize the
friend that I thought I knew so well for who and what he really was.
Then I forced myself to remember the signs I had been given: Lindir
telling me that his promise ring was not so different from Jason's;
the gestures that Lord Haldir had made that had given me such a
feeling of deja-vu; Lord Haldir, kneeling down and talking to Bruno
just the way Jason had so many times. I remembered Jason's graceful
movements, the masculine beauty of his form and his long blond hair.
And my heart broke again.
"This is my brother Rumil, whom you know well," Lord Haldir said, and
his compassionately aimed words struck me like he had thrust a sword
into my ribs.
You lied to me! I accused them, both of you!
We did not lie to you, Lindir said calmly.
You didn't tell me, and that's the same thing! I yelled at them both.
And you! I screamed, turning on Lord Haldir and pointing my finger at
him. All of those talks we had about Jason - did I have a friend?
What sign was he? You knew and you never said a thing! How could
you!? How could you!?
Lindir opened his mouth, but I pointed at him and sobbed: Don't you
tell me I wasn't ready! How could I ever be ready for this! And
Lindir closed his mouth, unsure what to do about the distraught female
in front of him.
"Marian, Rumil is a true friend," Lord Haldir began, and stepped
toward me with his arms extended as if he intended to comfort me.
I stepped back. Don't TOUCH ME! I screamed at him, and he stopped
and dropped his arms, his eyes smoky and dark, his jaws clenched, his
mouth set. Somewhere in the back of my mind I knew I was hurting him,
and stepping over a dangerous line.
He is no friend - he pretended to be my friend so that I would come
here! I hate him! I trusted him and he betrayed my trust, and so did
you! I declared in anger and misery. I trusted you, I sobbed
brokenly to Lord Haldir, I believed in you!
You are right, I spat out the words, I am ready to leave.
Yanking the chain with Jason's - no, RUMIL'S - ring off of my neck, I
threw it to clatter hollowly across the floor. I turned and ran from
him once again. And once again he let me go.
* * * * *
I didn't go to my sessions with Allinde or Gladrel today, nor to spend
my afternoons with Lindir or Lord Haldir. I didn't go to dinner in
the Hall, or listen to Lindir and the elves after. I stayed alone in
my rooms with Bruno and packed, and no one disturbed me.
I was embarrassed and humiliated: They had done a fine job of
manipulating me, Lindir and Lord Haldir and his brother - Rumil. I
had not suspected a thing. Now when I thought back I remembered
little things, and it all fit - my screensaver of the redwoods;
shopping for backpacks with Jason - no, not Jason. His friendship and
encouragement had all been a ruse. Jason did not exist.
I didn't wait for Lord Haldir to appear on the terrace tonight. I
closed my curtain to the nighttime beauty of the caverns, and sat in
the darkness with my memories that were only illusions, and the broken
shards of my dreams.
*From the song "Exile"; Enya