The Tale of Marian

by Rana1

In today's world, a woman searches for her path and finds it laid before her in a most unusual way. A Haldir romance, eventually, but is it the Haldir we remember from the third age, or has he changed?

25. Ch 25: The Light of the Trees

Title: The Tale of Marian

Chapter: 25/?

Rating: PG13 this chapter.

Pairing: OFC/Haldir

Genre: Adventure/Romance/perhaps a little Angst

Timeline: AU, modern times.

Beta: None this chapter.

Feedback: Welcomed, begged for, appreciated.

Warnings: None.

Author's Notes: This is a work in progress.

Disclaimer: See Chapter 1 for disclaimer.

THE TALE OF MARIAN

CHAPTER 25 - The Light of the Trees

i 12 January

We awoke early to a morning that pilots call "socked in." The storm was over and the rain was gone. In its place the morning fog was so thick that it was difficult to see more than ten feet in front of the van. Usually earlier risers that I, it looked, from the number of labeled trucks in front of the diners and motels, like the news media were grounded, waiting for a break in the weather for their cameras and their helicopters. They could be waiting a long, long time - long enough for us to be on our way and starting up the trail before they'd had their breakfast. On this morning, the fog, and perhaps even the Valar, was on our side.

We reached the trailhead without incident. A "friend" of Jason's was waiting to pick up the van. I took in the "oohs" and "ahhs" of our Fellowship as we entered the fog-shrouded forest like a mother showing off her newborn child. Roger was especially appreciative, saying that he had wanted to see the redwoods but had never had the chance. His son and his family had backpacked through them last summer and had told him how magnificent the forest was - but, Roger marveled, no words or photographs could do it justice. It was like medicine for the soul, Joel said in agreement. Indeed, the ancient quiet of the forest lifted my spirits and soothed my worries. In this place, if one stood still, one could almost feel the earth slowly spinning. The only feelings of mine the forest couldn't magically shrink into the greater perspective of the universe were the ones I held for Haldir. In fact, being in this forest again that he was so much a part of only magnified my emotions where he was concerned. I was going back: If all went well, I would see him again in days!

We have stopped somewhat early for the night, even for January. All of us - including Bruno - were relieved to un-shoulder our heavy packs and rest. I am taking things slowly at first; to give those who are new to backpacking time to adjust and to develop a routine for setting up and breaking camp. Drawing from my scouting days, I made up a "kaper chart" and posted it on a tree - what everyone's responsibilities would be tonight and tomorrow morning. The following nights, I told them, their duties would be rotated: cooking, cleaning, starting a fire, latrine-digging, and so on. It was a source of amusement for Mason, Roger, Dieter, and Sandy, all of whom had been scouts or guides in their childhood. I enlisted them to help the others learn to set up tent-like shelters with their ground cloths and rain ponchos. Joel and Arianna had been camping a few times. Yasmin had been, she said in a superior tone, on too many field assignments not to know how to set up her own tent. I put her on latrine duty.

We have met no one on the trail so far. All in all, except for some sore shoulders and blisters, our first day has gone rather smoothly.

/i

Before we got back in the van Dieter and I walked Marian a short way down the beach and suggested that perhaps we should check everyone's backpacks, just in case someone was still carrying something that could be tracked. She flatly refused, saying it would be an insult to everyone after last night.

Dieter was no happier than I at her response. Since we had asked her, we couldn't very well go behind Marian's back and do it anyway. We shouldn't have asked, Dieter commented hotly. Next time, he wouldn't. He would just do what he knew needed to be done, for her own good. Patience and quickness to anger; loyalty and mutiny combined: Dieter is a mortal of intense contrasts.

Even when I took Marian aside and reminded her that I could look through the packs without anyone realizing it, she refused. She knew I could do this. She hadn't forgotten the wine switch, unfortunately. She hadn't told me this, hadn't even said a thing to me about it since she came back from Tar-Caranorn. I knew she was simply biding her time, waiting until she thought I least suspected it to exact her revenge. Poor Marian, she should have realized that I am much too vigilant an elf for her to succeed.

i

13 January

I have always had an easy time sketching Jason's portrait, but now I can't seem to get it right. It is certainly not because he is an unwilling subject - quite the contrary. Once he sat for me for two hours. Even when I'm trying to do a candid sketch I might notice part way through that he's holding very still. Jason always knows when someone is looking at him! I think I'm having trouble because suddenly it is so important to me to get it just right: in a few months my best friend, too, will be gone. I change the eyes, the set of the lips, the jaw, but it's still not quite him. Sometimes now, on the trail, I'll take another unsatisfactory drawing of him and try to change it to look like Haldir; try to discover exactly what it is about their countenances that define the differences between them.

I tried again when we rested after lunch today, but the right stroke of the pencil still eluded me.

"The brow is not right," Jason commented over my shoulder. I nearly jumped off of the log I was sitting on, having thought that I was alone.

I replied that the brows were fine - they looked just like his.

"True enough, but you are not drawing me," he whispered in my ear, and walked off through the trees. I don't know how he knew what I was doing. I am embarrassed to have lied to him. I wonder if I should follow him and apologize. I wonder if I should find him and tell him everything. But I can't bring myself to do it, though I know I will spill my guts soon enough. I can't keep secrets from Jason. What will he think of me?

/i

i

14 January

We have heard helicopters pass overhead a few times, but the dense green canopy of trees and the weather have shielded us from view. It has begun to rain again. I was hoping that we would avoid bad weather for a few more days. We made slow progress, but the going wasn't too bad, the rain not too heavy. Mason made a cover for our cooking fire out of his rain poncho - it is quite a trick, the hole for the head serving as a chimney. He says he has taken care of five sisters and brothers since he was young - he'll take care of us, too. This comment was issued with a touch of martyrdom, and, I think, caused his efforts to not be received as gratefully as he would have liked. I thanked him and made sure to mention that we would all have opportunities to help each other along the way.

Sandy has found that she does not at all enjoy backpacking, even when it isn't raining. I believe she abhors athletics in general but won't admit it. Yet she is in good spirits and doesn't complain. Instead, she encourages the others. She is also, we discovered tonight, capable of making dehydrated food actually taste palatable.

/i

i

15 January

It is still raining, the trail is getting muddy, and spirits are running low. How much farther, they ask me? I consulted with Jason, and we decided to go ahead and tell them that at our current pace we would be there in five more days. We are all getting uncomfortably soggy. Only Bruno still has his tail curled happily over his back, wet as he is. There are too many interesting smells under each new fern or fallen log to be bothered about rain, apparently. How much of the trip is uphill, they ask me? Most of it, I replied to a concert of groans, but not all as steep as today. How much longer will it rain? That I can't tell them. Not much longer, I hope.

What they need, I told Jason quietly when we stopped for lunch, is something to keep them going, something that will keep them excited about reaching the end of our journey. He has just the thing, he says, but I will have to wait until we stop for the day to find out what it is. He has told the others the same thing - which is almost nothing, now isn't it? He drives me crazy, but I admit that I am walking a little faster now myself, out of curiosity.

Later, 15 January

We have had another tremor, stronger than before, and possibly closer - at least that's the way it felt. It was accompanied by a mudslide that took out several smaller trees and brush on a steep slope near the trail. We saw and heard it happen, eerily, like it was in slow motion, ahead of us through the trees. Luckily it was down slope from us, and the trail itself remained stable. Even I was nervous about this one, and still am, though I tried not to show it. There aren't supposed to be earthquakes around here, not inland at any rate. The fault lines run out into the ocean many miles to the south of us. The saturated, loamy soil of the forested hillsides is prone to erosion and mudslides in the winter, with or without earthquakes. I wonder if there is more damage further on, and if our path might be blocked. I am so glad that Jason is with us. If we need to find another path, he will know where to go. Many in our group are still jumpy, and I don't blame them. There's nothing like seeing the earth that you walk on slide away to give you a strong sense of insecurity. They are starting to wonder why in the world we are doing this, but I encourage them as best I can.

/i

The continuing rain was much more uncomfortable for the other members of our Fellowship than it was for me, and the mudslide had taken a stressful toll on all of us. By the time they had slogged their way close to our destination for the evening they were all quite tired, cold and soaked, muddy, scared, and irritated with both the rain and each other. We were not an impressive sight. Luckily our path would not cross with Lindir's for a few more days, for if he had seen us as we appeared at that moment I would never have heard the end of the humorous songs that he would have penned of the sight. Even Bruno huffed and sat down uncomfortably when I stopped Marian on the trail.

I put my arm around her, and we faced the others. "There is shelter ahead - Quendi shelter," I announced, and winked at Marian when she turned a startled look up at me. "We have been told that along these trails are refuges cleverly concealed from the eyes of travelers such as ourselves. This one only we are familiar with. You will have a chance to see Quendi craftsmanship, and a dry place to sleep. It is nearby. Follow us, if you please."

I ushered Marian off of the trail ahead of me and up the sodden bank. A mere twenty feet of slippery ferns and dripping undergrowth later, I surreptitiously placed Marian's hand on the nearly invisible structure and gave her a moment to recognize what she was touching so that she could show the others. Our Fellowship was satisfyingly amazed that it had been so near and yet so well disguised. Yasmin excitedly examined it inside and out, and Mason found the braiding of the stripped fern fronds that held the small branches arched over the space inside, and started untying them. Mortals. Sometimes they are insufferable.

"Mason, don't!" Marian and Yasmin said in chorus. "Observation first, Mason," Yasmin scolded him. Joel grasped Mason's hand to still his efforts, and shot him a challenging look. For a moment the air stood saturated and yet crackling with the tension that flared between them.

"Mason, I'm sorry but you do need to stop," Marian said gently. Then she said to the group at large, "I understand that this is the first real evidence you've seen besides Jason's book, and that a new discovery brings out the best of scientists here, like Mason, who are driven to understand what is new and exciting. We have a long scientific tradition, or just a human compulsion, of taking things apart, dissecting them, to see how they work. This tradition has helped us gain knowledge, but it has also caused irreparable damage to some of the things we have studied in this way.

Mason, I know you mean well, and I understand your excitement. But Yasmin has stated the crux of our responsibility, as the first to see this culture. Our goal is first to preserve, then to record what we see, and let the Quendi teach us about it. Experiments and investigations can follow, either by us or by others that will follow. There may very well be only one kind of each thing we want to learn about - one shelter, one draught of medicine, one painting, one flower. We cannot afford to lose the knowledge of something forever by altering it. So here and now I am laying down one cardinal rule for all of us: We will not risk destroying something to find out how it works. Not," she said to Mason directly when she saw him wrench his hand away from Joel's grip, "that such is any of our intention, or that we would be at all careless," she smiled at him. "But because what we will see is so precious, and possibly so fragile, that we cannot take the chance."

There were murmurs of agreement and the nodding of heads from most of our group with, I noticed, the exception of Mason and Joel. And I didn't like the way Joel had begun to flirt with Marian. They have not learned to respect her yet, but they will, like I did. Those two would bear watching.

"Shall we get out of the rain now?" Arianna asked, and we all laughed.

I offered to show Mason how to re-weave the fronds, explaining that I had been shown how it was done. The style of weaving and knotting was a lost art to these modern mortals, and we had a small audience, even in the rain. I believe the attention, and the discussion that ensued, repaired some of Mason's resentment at being made an example of by Marian.

Although this shelter was one of the largest along the trail, it was not expansive enough for all of us. Marian and I decided that the others needed a respite from the rain more than we did, so though the shelter was crowded with seven, we made the group as comfortable and dry as possible, extending it a little with ponchos and ground clothes tied over the entrance. After a short search we found one of Marian's favorite hollowed-out trees and settled into her hammock together, with Bruno at our feet.

Marian was shivering, so I pulled her close to keep her warm. I didn't even get a joke about being fresh, which bothered me. I was about to put out a few feelers, so to speak, when she finally spoke.

"Do all elves sleep like this when they are traveling?" she asked.

"Like what?" I replied. "Like lying down?"

"No," she snorted, "close together like this."

"Usually only couples, or family or close friends such as we are," I explained. "But I fear I have assumed too much. Would you prefer that I sleep elsewhere?"

"No, this is very nice," she said, "and warm.

Haldir slept with me like this, on the way back to you," she said so quietly that I could hardly hear her. Ah! This was the opening that I had been awaiting for months.

"I am not surprised," I replied carefully. "My brother is no fool. But now I fear that I am being replaced as the rightful and deserving object of your affections - I am jealous," I complained.

"Oh you are not, Jason. You've hardly made a pass at me since we've left. You've been unnaturally serious and restrained. I fear you will become your brother sooner than later." Did I detect a note of resentment in her voice? I imagined that Haldir must have exerted his restraint with great difficulty.

"Does my serious side not appeal to you, then?" I teased her.

"I didn't know you had one," she shot back. "I've begun to think there is something wrong with you."

I pinched her soundly on the derriere.

"Jason!" she protested, and the hammock swung precariously with her reaction. Bruno shifted against the tree in alarm.

"Is that better?" I asked her.

"Much. Now cut it out," she ordered. "The others will think we're doing something else entirely."

"Well, we could do something else," I purred. "I have a few suggestions."

Silence. This was no good. I wasn't getting anywhere.

"Besides," she said sleepily after I had waited for several excruciatingly long minutes, "there was nothing to be jealous about."

"What, he didn't pinch you?" I asked.

"No. HE was a perfect gentleman."

"Haldir is not the pinching type," I said in defense of my brother. "His attentions are more refined and subtle in nature than mine."

"So are most people's," Marian snorted. "But there were no "attentions." I'm sure he was simply keeping me from being cold so I wouldn't be tired and slow him down the next morning."

"I do not recall it being particularly cold in September," I mused. "Is that when you started dreaming about him?" I delivered this question in the gentlest of tones, but still I held my breath, hoping that I hadn't gone too far.

Marian stiffened. "What makes you think that I do. . . did that?"

"My first clue was the night I moved in with you and you awakened me from the next room calling "Haldir. . . Haldir . . . " in your sleep. Quite rhythmically, as I recall."

Marian groaned and covered her face even though it was dark and she was turned away from me. "Am I that obvious?" she asked.

"Only when you look at him. . . or when you don't look at him," I said and poked her side. "But only a brother and one who knows you well such as I would have noticed."

Marian groaned again. "Are you upset with me?" she asked tensely through her hands, and I could tell that this, and nothing else, had been the crux of her hesitation to tell me about her feelings.

"No, dearest, of course not. I am happy, and joyful, and sad, and very, very concerned about you and my brother." I was loath to tell her that this just wouldn't work out, or the many reasons why. That was Haldir's right and his responsibility. Besides, I was not the Valar. I had no foresight, no mirror in which to divine the future.

"I'm sure you needn't be concerned about Haldir. He has no interest in me. Even if he did, he has to leave just like you do, so it's pointless anyway."

I thought carefully before responding. "There is always a point to love, Marian. It remains to be seen what it is. I consider my brother blessed that one such as you cares so deeply for him. True love is a rare gift."

"It is only a gift to one who welcomes it. I'm nothing but a burden to him. I want to help him, and I want nothing so much as to gain his approval, but he has shown me many times that he does not consider me even adequate for the purpose I've come for, and I am hard put not to agree with him. I am not complaining about Haldir, Jason," she said quickly, "This is simply what is."

How, I thought with hurt in my heart for her, could she be so unaware of Haldir's attraction to her; the yearning that I saw in his eyes? I wanted to tell her how he cared for her, but it was not my place to do so. It almost killed me that I couldn't ease her heartache. I resolved once more that I would have a very serious talk with my brother as soon as we returned. He owed her the knowledge of his regard.

"I've tried not to love him, Jason," she said softly and I could hear the underlying tears in her voice. "I've tried. . . so hard."

"I know, sweetheart," I replied, and squeezed her closer. "But love finds a way to assert itself. Like a small laes in the womb who is ready to greet Arda face to face, it demands life and light and there is no stopping it."

"What am I going to do?" she whispered groggily.

"That is for you to decide, my dear. But since I am an advisor, I will advise you to neither be ashamed of loving him, nor shield from him your regard. Those who are loved should know they are loved. Let him decide whether he welcomes this gift or no: I tell you that you do not yet know the answer. Haldir's hear lies very deep, Marian. Much flows inside that does not appear on the surface unless he wills it so."

"You are deep Jason," Marian declared in a voice muffled by her sleeping bag. "You don't want anyone to know, but you don't fool me for a minute."

"Mmmmm. I must be losing my touch," I worried.

Marian slapped my hand away that had somehow quite innocently found a mildly forbidden location.

"If only," she complained, but she didn't really mean it.

i

16 January

Finally, the rain has stopped, and we have been able to dry out our things! We awoke to a clean, fresh tree-scented breeze and sunlight dappled through the forest canopy, setting the raindrops and dew on the green leaves around us into sparkles and rainbows dancing on the gently swaying branches and fluttering leaves. If ever there was an enchanted forest, it is Tar-Caranorn on such a morning.

We have started to break apart on the trail. Jason and I take turns leading, but the path is fairly easy to follow so far, so often Joel and Mason forge ahead in spurts, waiting for the rest of us to catch up. It's not that they have forgotten their animosity toward each other yesterday and become friends, but that they are compelled to compete with each other. A couple of alpha-males, Yasmin rolls her eyes and tells me, each jostling for a more powerful position in our Fellowship. Though Arianna, Sandy and Roger appear to be oblivious to it, Yasmin and I have worked largely with men in our professions. We recognize the signs. First Mason questions a few of my small decisions, or something Jason or I have said in our nightly stories about the Quendi. Then he offers an alternative solution to the group at large. Joel, on the other hand, is quite supportive. He offers to help me on and off with my pack, and holds his hand out to help me climb over a rock or a fallen tree on the trail. On the surface he is being a thoughtful gentleman. If I didn't know him better I would be ashamed of myself for thinking anything else of him. But I have dealt with this before - men who, intentionally or not, don't see a woman as qualified to lead better than themselves. So far neither has made any headway gaining any authority over me or each other, but they will keep trying. Meanwhile, I will be firm and sure, at least on the surface, and hold the vision of what can be and how we can make it come to pass out for all to see. I know that I carry the dream for all of us, and I will not allow myself to falter now.

Jason, ever the observant one, has noticed. He says he will reveal his true self if it will help me. Absolutely not, I said to him! How could he even think to do such a thing, with days still to go until we meet Lindir and the other wardens?

Dieter will have nothing to do with Joel and Mason's games. He has settled himself stolidly as the rear guard behind Sandy, shepherding her forward and coming out of his shell enough to trade flirtatious banter back and forth with her. He is actually starting to hold his own against Sandy's expertly placed comments, and doesn't turn red in the face nearly so often now. Sometimes their exchange is clever enough to set us all into fits of laughter. Still, he is ever vigilant of what lies around and behind, trusting to Jason to watch what lies ahead.

Arianna and Roger, quick and spry for all his years, hold the middle with Yasmin. Bruno, of course, wanders wherever he will, sometimes disappearing for an hour at a time. We might hear him bounding through the brush, scattering birds and squirrels in his wake. Then he will crash out from within the trees as if he is being clever, grinning and wagging his tail. I believe he will have trotted at least twice the distance to Methentaurond by the time we get there, dog food pack and all.

Jason has assured me that Haldir will be in Methentaurond when we return. In spite of our differences and the power plays that are occurring, the nine of us make a good group. Everyone takes responsibility for their part, and we work quite well together. The more I get to know the members of our Fellowship, the more I know that Haldir will be satisfied with them. Perhaps he will even be proud of me. That is one of my fondest hopes.

In the meantime, I continue to dream of him. Sometimes the dream is nothing more than a brief glimpse of him; then I awaken. Other times it is much, much more: We are dancing; kissing; making love. Some settings I recognize; others are new and strange to me. Is this a sign of things to come? I tell myself not to hope too much, but I find my steps quickening the closer we come to our destination. Thinking of him on the trail, I have to catch myself and control my pace so as not to tire Sandy or Roger. I can hardly contain my yearning to see him again.

17 January

With each step further into the woods, Jason looks more and more in his element - more graceful, sure- and light-footed. We stumble in the dim light before breaking camp; he does not. His eyesight is keener, his energy more boundless, I think, than all of the rest of us put together. He can start a fire with the wettest wood; no one can understand how he does it. The closer we get to home, the more light-hearted he becomes. His energy and enthusiasm are infectious to even the most sore and weary among us. He is showing himself to be more and more the Rumil only I know him to be. I need to remind him to be careful.

Where has he gone, I wonder? Probably off to find Roger and search for the edible plants that he has promised to show him. They have promised us a surprise for lunch. I can hardly wait: I am envisioning some kind of ugly-looking fungus or, perhaps bitter-tasting leaves. Then again, we are all anxious already to be rid of our dehydrated meals.

17 January - Adam's campsite

Here is the place where Bruno and I shared the night with Adam and his parents. Here is the tree where I strung my hammock and Adam and I spoke of the elves.

I need to see those familiar things, and to know that they are still here, for I am deeply shaken by what has happened. Bruno is gone - lost in an avalanche of rocks and mud: my big dumb dog; my faithful companion; my friend. Maybe if I had been younger and stronger I could have saved him. Maybe if I hadn't been so startled, so fascinated by it, I would have paid more attention to him, and this wouldn't have happened. Jason says that it wasn't my fault, that there was nothing more I could have done without losing my life. But he can't erase my guilt. He doesn't know what I know, wasn't there to see it. I am afraid to show it to him; afraid of what it might be. It would be too risky to show any of the others. Yet I know with certainty that it is not meant for me.

I am desperate to get to Methentaurond as quickly as possible, if only to see that it is still there. I feel Jason's concern as well, but the moon is covered with thick clouds and it is too dangerous for us to travel at night. We must stay here until morning. Jason reassures me that Haldir is well. If he wasn't, Jason says, he would feel it. But what about the others?

I am rambling. I must tell the tale.

The wind had picked up and become bitingly cold by the time Roger and Jason returned with the spoils of their hunt. As I had dreaded, Roger was beaming at a jacket full of mushrooms and decidedly foul-looking shelf fungi, all of which Jason had pointed out to him as edible delicacies. The others were more receptive to this change in diet than I was. Jason knows I hate mushrooms and anything related to them with a passion, and he shot me a humorous look over his shoulder as he helped Roger prepare a fire. Then he looked past me quizzically, and I turned to follow his gaze.

Bruno was sitting a few feet behind me, his head cocked to the side and a strange look on his big furry face. He scratched his ear, then looked at me and whined, shifting uncomfortably. Then he scratched his ear again. I went over to look in his ear to see what was the matter, and to my shock he actually growled at me and nipped my arm. I backed away. He had never done that before.

Jason took my arm and led me away from him and the others. "Don't blame Bruno" he said, "I feel it too. Do you?"

"Feel what?" I asked him. He shook his head.

"I am not sure," he replied, and looked at me in confusion. "The trees are speaking to each other. They are agitated, but by what I do not know. I feel something in the earth - something restless. Do you feel nothing, Marian?"

"I know," I replied. "It's the sickness you feel in Arda, that Callo suffers from. But I can't feel it. I'm sorry."

"No, Marian," Jason said worriedly and stood still for a moment as if he was still listening for something. The wind pulled tendrils of his hair loose around his face as he did, and whipped my shorter hair into my eyes. "It is not that; it is something different. The trees are waiting for something. Something is coming. Soon."

Jason's hair stopped swirling around his face. The forest became instantly, completely still. Not a single bird call, not a solitary sound interrupted the tense, absolute quiet.

"I feel it," I whispered stupidly to Jason, and suddenly I was scared. I looked back at the others. Roger had stood up from the campfire, his knife and treasure-trove of mushrooms forgotten at his side, and was looking around at the trees. Bruno, suddenly hysterical, started barking, growling and whining all at once. The others had stopped what they were doing as well, looking around at the deadly-still forest and each other.

"Earthquake!" Jason shouted suddenly through the stillness. "A large one. Leave your things. Follow me! We must make for the meadow ahead to clear the trees!"

No one stopped to question how Jason knew an earthquake was coming, such was the authority of his voice. He grabbed my arm and we ran for the trail, the others following without question.

"My notebooks!" I protested and pulled back on Jason.

"There is not time!" he ordered, and pushed me ahead of him.

"Bruno!" I called as I climbed up the hill ahead of Jason, but I couldn't see him anywhere.

Jason shouted something in Elvish, but I was too panicked to try to understand. "He can take care of himself, Marian. Hurry!"

The air crackled with energy, and we began to hear a low rumble from somewhere deep in the earth.

"¡Undelé! ¡Undelé!" Roger urged us on from behind, reverting to his native tongue in his distress.

As we ran uphill as best we could, the earth and the understory of vegetation began to shake in a now all-too familiar fashion, but this time it didn't stop. It got much, much worse. The rumbling sound increased in intensity around us like a freight train, accompanied by a high-pitched keening that made us cover our ears as we ran.

The ground jumped and buckled like ocean waves in a storm so that first one, then another of us was thrown off balance and fell to the unstable ground. We helped each other up and pulled each other along, trying to stay upright. The giant trees swayed above and around us like thin saplings in the wind, groaning and creaking in protest. At one point Yasmin was thrown against a tree, but regained her footing and gave me a thumbs-up. It felt like the origins of the quake were under our very feet!

I heard a long, ripping scream that I had only heard once in my life - a redwood somewhere nearby was falling. But where?

"There!" Jason yelled and pointed to the trail above us as if he had read my mind. "Run!" he ordered as the stately tree began to topple in our direction.

Glued to the sight of the top of the massive giant crashing through the boughs of the other trees far above as it arched toward us, Sandy stood frozen behind me. I could see that her brain had shut down. I grabbed her and pulled her forward, slapping her hard on the face. She looked from the tree to me in shock, then nodded, her face flushed bright red. "Don't look up!" I ordered her, and as I pulled her forward she regained the use of her legs and ran with me.

The bulk of one of the tallest of all trees came down faster than I could have imagined, darkening the sky above us and carrying branches and other, smaller trees with it. The rain-soaked soil around its massive trunk cascaded down the hill as the roots tore away from the soil, but we were nearly out of harm's way.

"Dieter!" Arianna screamed as the tree crashed to the ground, breaking and splintering on the uneven hillside just behind Dieter and sending shards of wood, bark and branches into the air all around us. But Dieter ran forward, the faithful rear guard of our Fellowship. Arianna hugged him in relief, the dark form of the fallen tree trunk silhouetting their forms, thicker than Dieter was tall.

The earth continued to heave around us. "Noro lim! Keep going!" Jason warned, slipping into Elvish. "Don't stop until we reach the meadow!" We finally did, breaking through the forest and making for the center of the windy, open meadow, and, we hoped, relative safety.

Then I heard a frantic bark from back the way we had come. Bruno! I ran back into the trees, ignoring Jason's protesting shouts. I couldn't help it. He might have been caught by his pack on something, or he might have been injured. He was my dog, and I was going back for him. Besides, the ground wasn't shaking nearly as much now. I broke back into the trees and jogged deeper into the forest, leaving the wind behind me. The surrounding forest grew still once more.

"Bruno?" I called out, but I didn't hear an answer. No bird, no squirrel chattered, no Bruno barked. It was, I thought with a shiver down my spine, too quiet again.

"Bruno!" I called, and I heard Jason call my name from somewhere behind me. I ran forward once more, climbing over and around debris and fallen logs, and then I saw him. He was looking intently back down the trail, his head cocked to one side, his ears quivering. I couldn't see what he was looking at beyond one of the fallen trees, but he seemed to be fine. Then as I scaled the tree, he growled and barked again, backing away from whatever was on the trial in front of him. All at once I heard a squealing, rending sound that I hope I never hear again. The hillside where Bruno had just been standing began to fall away, taking the remains of the trail with it, and the earth heaved in one final lurch, open in front of my poor dog and toppling more mud and loosened trees into and over the rift. I fell to my hands and knees and closed my eyes against the surreal sight. Then Bruno barked again. I opened my eyes to see that the far side of the narrow rift had risen two to three feet above the side we were on, reaching far into the trees. A bright, impossibly beautiful light that shone golden and yet silver all at once glinted from the side of the newly exposed bank, and Bruno stood before it, barking at it. I crawled forward toward him, shielding my eyes, but as I came near the light softened and I could see it clearly. But what in the world was I looking at? There, embedded in the middle of a tree root as wide as Haldir's arms was a radiant jewel as thick as my fist. Its countless facets sparkled with a warm, welcoming light. I looked up, expecting to see a ray of sunlight striking it from above, but the sky had become cloudy and dim. Still, the jewel glowed and glinted from its center as if it held some inner light, and even in the dim afternoon under the trees, sent sparkling colors like rainbows out from its center, but in colors that had never shown from any rainbow I had seen before. Not even, I thought, colors that I could say or name or remember ever seeing. It was the most purely beautiful thing I have ever seen. Bruno barked at it again, and cocked his head in the other direction.

"Marian!" I heard Jason call behind me, but I found that I didn't want to answer; not just yet.

I reached across the narrow gap in the earth and touched it. It was warm, which was strange, glittering and sparkling impossibly of its own accord. Tinkerbell, I remember whispering to myself, though the comparison was eons from doing the object justice. I tried to grasp it then, thinking that I would never be able to pull it loose, but the root seemed to draw back from it - this must surely have been an illusion to my shocked mind - and it practically fell into my hand. Just as it did, the ground around me and Bruno began to give way. Still on my hands and knees I crawled backward, but I saw Bruno begin to slip. I grabbed for him with my free hand. Then I wedged the jewel into the waistband of my pants and grabbed for him with my other hand. The ground caved way beneath him. Maybe if I had let go of the jewel sooner I could have saved him, but he slipped away right out of my grasp. "Bruno! Bruno!" I called, but he had disappeared in a flurry of mud and rock into the chasm before us.

"Marian!" Jason called again and then he was behind me, pulling me back and away. I slipped the jewel further down into my pants and covered myself with the cloak that I was wearing - Haldir's cloak. Then I collapsed into Jason's arms and cried for my lost dog. I cried for myself because I hadn't saved him, and because I had hidden my discovery from my best friend. What kind of a person would do such things?

/i

Laes baby