Title: The Tale of Marian
Chapter: 27/?
Rating: PG13 this chapter.
Pairing: OFC/Haldir
Genre: Adventure/Romance/perhaps a little Angst
Timeline: AU, modern times.
Beta: None this chapter.
Feedback: Welcomed, appreciated. Constructive criticism always appreciated.
Warnings: None.
Author's Notes: This is a work in progress.
Disclaimer: See Chapter 1 for disclaimer.
THE TALE OF MARIAN
Chapter 27 - Wrestle With the Tides of Fate
i
19 January
I felt such joy upon entering Methentaurond again that I can scarcely put words to it. The awed reaction of our group to the indescribable panorama of the underground halls from the marble balcony, and the exclamations of "You were right," and "I'm sorry I doubted you" made me shake with relief: With Rumil's help, I had done it! Doubts and all, we had gotten them here, all of them!
The welcoming warmth of the caverns in the filtered midday light of the lanterns; the sight of Sandy being stopped by a sentinel as she rushed to the wall to examine a mural with her art-historian's monocle and her resulting protest of "I'm a professional!", barely registered in my head. I stood with Rumil and Lindir while we gave everyone a few moments to assure themselves that they weren't hallucinating. Then, finally, Lindir spoke the words that I had waited to hear for so long: "Lord Haldir awaits you in the Great Hall. Follow me."
"It's a monarchy? How quaint," I heard Yasmin quietly comment behind me to Joel. I took her insult quite personally, and I knew that Lindir had heard her. Of course Lindir was too refined to respond. I walked behind him with my eyes forward and told myself to follow his example, reminding myself that Yasmin was probably just trying to cope. "Stuff it, Yasmin," I heard Joel respond under his breath. That made my smile of anticipation widen considerably.
I vaguely remember following Lindir down the broad marble stair and into the Great Hall with its alabaster-like stone wall glowing on the promontory over the Linluin,, barely remember filing into the elliptical torch- and lantern-lit Hall itself. I waited anxiously while two sentinels disappeared through the arches at the other end. Time hung suspended until he would appear- my world narrowed to just one doorway. All else faced away. What would his welcome be like? Would he judge us harshly for Callo's death, as Lindir had hinted, or would he greet us as warmly as I hoped? Rumil took my arm in silent support. He alone knew how important this moment was to me.
Then in a beat of my heart he appeared in the Hall, and my breath caught in my throat. I had not expected to be so awe-struck by him again, so weak-kneed by the sheer power of his presence. His attire reminded me instantly of the tapestries of Lord Celeborn in the Council Chambers: The shining silver girdle, neckpiece and circlet on his brow were of a lovely design of intertwining leaves and vines. These symbols of his rank emanated with the love that had been put into their making and with a superb level of craftsmanship foreign to our modern eyes. Neither the white and silver-green of his flowing robes nor this silverwork detracted from his fluid silver-gold hair, but only intensified its luster and color. He walked gracefully and imperiously toward us to the center of the Hall. His movements, though partially hidden by his robes, accentuated his tall stature, strength and power. His eyes inspected each of us, piercingly blue and wise and commanding. I knew what the scrutiny of those eyes could do. Each of the people with me would endure his gaze in their own way, as best they could.
Yet there was a troubled look in his countenance that, before leaving, I had only glimpsed in those late night moments on his terrace before he retired. Was it fatigue? Grief or anger at Callo's death? Ill news of his journey? The Lord Haldir I have come to know is not so easily daunted. Something profound clouded his brow and made him appear not cold, but formidable nonetheless. Even Rumil, when I glanced at him, had a puzzled look on his face.
"Muindor, na vedui na bar rinnonen!" Lord Haldir exclaimed, and he and Rumil embraced Some of the tension in his face lifted. I roughly understood his words as a welcome home to his brother, but no interpretation was needed.
Months-long memories of huckleberries and being held in his arms at night flooded my thoughts. Would I receive the warm welcome I so deeply wanted?
For the first time since he entered the room he turned his complete focus on me. I was acutely aware that I was sore and travel-worn and very much a sorry sight. Aloof and noncommittal, his gaze followed Rumil's ring on my finger as I touched my hand to my brow and then to my heart to express my respect to him. When I looked up to meet his eyes I found that his sharp gaze had come to rest instead to the periphery of my face. His head tilted in a slightly curious gesture. What was he looking at? Of course! I had forgotten that my hair was now gray. Well, it served him right – he was the one who had insisted upon honesty in appearances - he, who often, it seemed, disguised himself as a man! I raised my chin and waited for him to say something about my hair or the ring, but he ignored both.
"Híril edhellen," he addressed me formally in that rich, velvety tone that I had so missed and, like everything else about him, thrilled me to the core. But couldn't he at least have called me by name? Instead he acknowledged my salute by somehow managing to simultaneously nod his head just a fraction and stare down his nose at me. "To you alone have we granted passage to these halls accompanied by strangers," he said. Then he swept his gaze across our group. "We have rarely dealt with Men even in your own lands, and then only by necessity and the shielding of our true nature. Yet in these perilous times strangers may still prove themselves friends," he commented, turning to inspect Sandy, who was standing next to me.
"Hír Haldir, may I thank you deeply, and introduce our Fellowship?" I began. He looked at me silently, but I saw a faint flicker of response. Was it surprise at my use of the term "Fellowship"? Amusement? Irritation that I had spoken? I couldn't tell. I decided I would have to either choose my words more carefully or, maybe even better, shut up.
"I'm Sandy. I'm a historian – of art, especially," Sandy offered.
"Ah, we have much to discuss," he responded, and she beamed back at him in relief.
He turned next to Mason, and my companions introduced themselves one by one. When Yasmin introduced herself as the cultural anthropologist, his nose flared almost imperceptively. That was not a good sign.
"You will study us, as you study the Aborigines, or Homo Floriensis," he said, daring her to equate the elves with what we termed primitive cultures.
"That's correct," Yasmin said defensively.
"You will analyze our social structure, dissect our customs, pry into our private habits," he continued in, I thought, an unnecessarily insulted tone. Yasmin stared right back at him. Then thankfully she found enough humility to break his gaze.
"So be it," Lord Haldir said with finality and a hint of sorrow that tugged at my heart.
He turned to Arianna, and spoke to her in what I guessed must have been German. She replied something haltingly in elvish that even I didn't know and then sheepishly held out Rumil's book. Lord Haldir smiled slightly and raised his eyebrows at Rumil, but made no comment.
In spite of Rumil's healing efforts my ankle was starting to throb again. I shifted my weight onto my other foot as inconspicuously as I could, but Haldir picked up on my movement instantly, and frowned. He turned back to Joel.
"Híril Marian will be shown to Lomion at once. You will benefit from assisting him in the tending of your Lady's injury." Joel started to bristle. I'm sure he hadn't "assisted" anyone in a very long time. But possibly sensing he was out of his element, he nodded his agreement.
In spite of having spent time with the elves, such formality was still uncomfortable for my casual California upbringing. And Lord Haldir seemed to be going to great lengths to keep his distance from me. I could feel myself beginning to flush with chagrin at how he was addressing me. Why, it was as if he hardly knew me! I gained a short reprieve by Vanimé's entrance into the Great Hall. Then again, what good could come of it? I wondered if she had heard Lord Haldir refer to me as "Lady Marian." I hoped not.
Vanimé's graceful, ethereal progress across the Hall was cataloged in every detail by the males in our group. Clothed in a long, clinging gown that was both alluring and modest, she played to their attention like the consummate musician that her lithe movements promised she was. Coming to stand proudly behind Lord Haldir's left shoulder, she then deflated them completely with a single sweeping dismissive glance. I wanted so badly to let myself hate her. Instead, grudgingly, jealously, I inwardly saluted her. Biting my lip to keep from smirking, I reminded myself that she was the first elleth these men had ever seen. Then she beamed at Rumil. I had never seen Vanimé beam at anyone.
"Vanimé will take you to Lomion," Lord Haldir indicated to Joel and me. We had come far; we must be weary, he told the rest of us. Lindir would show the rest of us to a place where we could rest and take comfort. Tonight for the first time we would eat with the Elves: In a short time we would be called upon to return to the Great Hall to share a welcoming feast. Following the feast, we could sleep together on our first night. Tomorrow we would each be introduced to a family whose home we would share, so that we would come to know the elves well in the short time we would have together. My talan, he told me, had been kept ready in my absence. I smiled my thanks to him, but he had dismissed us. He turned to Rumil and instructed him to stay – they had many tales to tell each other.
Why hadn't I been asked to stay? I wondered, looking back at them as Vanimé led us away. Didn't I have catching up to do with Haldir too? Rumil gave me one of his patently suggestive winks, which I rolled my eyes at, but Haldir didn't turn to look at me as we left. I suppose that I was feeling neglected because I was so tired – and tired of being dirty. Why couldn't I just go to the blasted bathing pool first? Of course Vanimé caught me pouting.
By the time we reached Lomion's talan I was eternally grateful that we had gone there first. My ankle was killing me. But could I go right on in with Joel and be offered one of Lomion's marvelously large, deeply cushioned chairs? No! Vanimé ushered Joel in and then stopped me outside the door. Joel was so infatuated with the contents of Lomion's shelves that he promptly forgot that he had a patient waiting. What, I thought in dread and irritation, could Vanimé possibly want with me right that very moment? And why couldn't she just stop standing there and staring at me while I stood there in pain, and spit it out?
"I would speak to you after the Feast of Welcome," she said. "Alone." Without waiting for my answer, she turned and walked away down the suspended bridge outside Lomion's talan.
/i
i
Finally I escaped somewhat intact from Lomion's protracted lessons to Joel on the treatment of my ankle, which Lomion completely healed. Their attention drifted from me to an animated conversation about some medical theory, the thread of which I lost track of after the first two sentences. Trying to stifle a yawn, I saw my chance and backed out the door with my things. I trust that one of them will get hungry enough sooner or later to remember about dinner. I don't even think they noticed me leave.
I wanted to find Allinde, but first I had to find out where Lindir had taken everyone, and get cleaned up. I walked back along the pathways between the talans, looking for someone to ask. I passed several elves that I had not met before. Finally I found an elleth who was able to tell me that the Followers were now housed in the stables for the night. Apologizing for the strange quarters, she explained that there was no single talan large enough for eight - elvish family units were never so large. The greater number of the talans that had long been empty were being filled by those that now chose to make their way across the Sea with Lord Haldir.
On my way to my talan, I noticed that there are now many more inhabitants of Methentaurond than when I left. The reality that the elves are leaving here forever had not truly come home to me then, but now it has, and I wiped a tear from the corner of my eye as I made my way along. I will sleep with my companions, but first I wanted to drop off an item from my backpack where I knew it would be secure.
Reaching my talan at last, I opened the door slowly, taking in the small, graceful spaces with the now-familiar intertwining wood columns, and the skylight with the lanterns of the caverns above. The wooden floor glowed in the late evening light with a rich patina of age and polish. This is home, I told myself as I dropped my backpack gratefully onto a chair. But where could I hide the jewel so that even Rumil, who considered my private territory his own, wouldn't find it by accident? My eyes drifted to the curtained alcove behind the plant stand. There was really nowhere else. Moving the curtain and opening the wardrobe, I again felt that I was intruding on some past occupant. I chose one of the reed baskets from the top shelf that held a pair of silken slippers, and removed the slippers and the protective cloth around them. There would be enough room for the jewel in the bottom. I could put back the slippers and their wrapping and the jewel would be hidden beneath. Even someone retrieving the slippers might not notice another bundle beneath. Besides, these slippers have not been disturbed in a long, long time. It isn't likely that anyone will remember them or ask for them now.
I dug through the contents of my backpack and pulled out Vanimé's cloak that I had wrapped around the jewel. I unfolded the cloak to check that it hadn't been damaged. Instantly my talan was awash in a brilliant light that spilled up and out of the glass ceiling, brightly illuminating the underside of the wispy clouds in the cavern above. Quickly I wrapped the cloak about it again, Rumil's ring sparkling brightly in response. The elvish fabric wrapped into such a small bundle that when I put the jewel, cloak and all, into the box and placed the wrapped slippers on top, the basket still closed. I set it on the bottom of the wardrobe and replaced the curtain and plant stand. I'll return Vanimé's cloak to her tomorrow.
Some other special items I brought that have so far escaped Rumil's discovery, I am hiding in my dresser drawer.
I need to go to the stables to join my travel-mates and clean up for dinner. I'm taking my wine-colored gown with me, as well as a luxury I did not indulge myself in on my first trip here - makeup. I want to look my best. If Haldir won't talk to me, then I will at least give him something to look at.
/i
i
Looking and feeling refreshed, we walked as a group back to the Great Hall. It had been transformed: all of the lanterns were aglow and bedecked with fragrant cedar boughs, and a crackling fire was burning in the large grate at each end of the Hall. Buffet tables were dressed in light blue and silver cloths and laden with food and drink. There were flavored and scented pitchers of water, mulled wine from the cellars, apples and pears. Some tables held poultry dressed with herbs and pine nuts, smoked salmon, fragrant breads, and beautiful green salads from the greenhouses by the lake. Finger foods both familiar and exotic graced every table. Lord Haldir had prepared a spectacular welcome.
Yet it was a casual, comfortable meal. There were no grand speeches, no formalities to endure. We were simply invited to sit among the elves and enjoy their company and their generosity. I had wondered if there would be some who would not welcome us here, who would feel uneasy or resentful of our presence. But the Hall was fuller than I had ever seen it, and there was no outward indication of such feelings from anyone present.
The wine flowed freely, and the evening moved from eating, to talking, and singing, and storytelling. Orodren was present, and Gladrel, and others who I had missed so much. Finally I found Allinde and we hugged each other enthusiastically. She looked radiant and as joyful as ever, to my great relief, and instantly demanded to know what I had done to my hair: She had heard tell that worrying turned the hair of mortals grey. Had I been worrying? I had only worried about her, I said, and Callo.
"I miss him dearly, Marian, but I am fine," she assured me, and I could see that she was. "Will your hair become brown again now?"
'No, this is its real color. And it will get grayer as I get older, dear friend," I explained. "Like Roger's," I said, and pointed him out in the crowd.
"Oh my," Arianna responded with a frown at Roger's fringe of white hair and his shining bald spot.
"But it won't fall out," I said quickly, and her frown disappeared.
I dragged her immediately over to Arianna. They bonded instantly, as I had expected, and I left them deep in a conversation about, predictably, books.
After every greeting I tried to make my way closer to Lord Haldir, but at every turn I seemed to end up farther away from him. Whenever I approached closer, his attention was turned away, or I found another elf that I wanted one of my companions to meet. Always I could see him, standing tall even among the tallest elves. Over and over I tried unsuccessfully to catch his eye.
I could see and hear him make his way among the gathering to each new arrival, greeting them and welcoming them warmly.
"Your expertise will be most valuable," he said to Roger; "We have much here that you can teach to others," he said to Mason.
I felt elegant. I felt pretty. I felt invisible. Not one word of thanks or greeting had he given me since we had arrived in the Hall, only the briefest of acknowledging glances before turning all of his attention to my companions. He had not expressed one sentence-worth of praise or confidence in me, for all my efforts. Yet he was offering it freely to every one of my recruits whom he had only just met.
The experts, the intellectuals, the dreamers he had tasked me to deliver to him were here, the ones who had the real ability to fulfill his purpose, to live up to his expectations, if that was possible for any mortal to do.
It was clear that I was no longer useful. I had never felt so cast aside. I looked around the Hall at the other elves. Lindir was deep in conversation with Sandy, and the others were likewise engaged. Even Rumil was preoccupied with Dieter and Narwen. I had fulfilled my task. I was nonexistent.
Backing into the shadows, I turned to go back to the stables. How could I have been so naïve, to think that I could be anything more to him than this?
I had barely made it a few steps outside and along the path when Haldir's voice stopped me, his tone low and disapproving, a sharp contrast to the enthusiasm he had just shown with the others.
"You are leaving the gathering. Why?"
I did not answer him directly. "I take it you have found those who have come to be suitable?"
If I had been fishing for recognition of my accomplishment, it was not to be had.
"They appear to be. . . adequate. Why are you neglecting your duty by leaving? I will not ask a third time."
"It has become obvious that you do not need me," I replied defensively.
He paused, and his expression clouded in that unreadable, intense manner he has. Unspoken words hovered on his lips, whatever they might have been. How I wish he would speak openly to me of his thoughts. "My needs are not at issue," he said. "You gathered these people; you brought them two weeks into the unknown to arrive in a strange place with strange people. You will not desert them now."
"I. . . " I began, but I really had no excuse. I had been thinking only of myself. It was time, I told myself, to leave my personal needs behind and put the others, and this place, first. Was not this essentially what I had pledged to the Elf Lord that I would do? Still, I could not accept that in order to do so, I had to pretend that my love for this magnificent elf did not exist! And I was not willing to pretend, as this maddening male seemed to insist on doing, that we had not shared some small tokens of intimacy.
"Thank you for welcoming my people so warmly," I said. I didn't even try to keep the hurt out of my voice. "It is a pleasure to see you again too." Then I turned away from him and went back into the Hall.
/i
i
"A word, Marian, as I promised," Vanimé called behind me. I had tried to exit the Hall once again, following behind the others with Joel. Lindir had continued the tale of the Silmarillion virtually from where he had stopped when I left. He ended with the announcement that tomorrow night would begin the Lay of Luthien, one of the longest and dearest of the tales of the elves. But tonight the elves had sung their last note, and the last harp string had quavered, echoing, in the warm scented air. Lord Haldir had left with Rumil some time ago and the Hall was almost empty. I had hoped she had forgotten. Joel tactfully wished us good night and walked on. I sighed and stopped at the balcony over the Linluin to hear her out.
"You are distressed. You believe that Lord Haldir ignores you; that you are not even now at the center of his thoughts" she said bluntly when Joel was out of earshot. God forbid Vanimé should be anything but blunt. And why did she have to be so damned perceptive? I didn't want to have this kind of conversation right now – I wanted only the oblivion of sleep.
"You are wrong," she said flatly.
"What do you mean?" I asked tiredly.
"Do you understand nothing?" she responded, tossing her long blond hair in exasperation. "My cousin honors you before your companions. He addresses you formally as his equal, above all other elves and men, and establishes for you the opportunity of acting as such. Why? To help you! And you respond to such favor, not like a lady of stature, but like a young elfling who has been denied her dessert after the evening meal."
Reluctantly I thought back from our arrival until Haldir had confronted me at the feast. She and Haldir were right. I just wasn't sure I could endure being told so again.
"You are adaneth, and you will fulfill your promise," Vanimé said with conviction, and I stepped back in surprise. Her attitude thawed a little, and I felt like I was now being reprimanded by a big sister and not berated by an enemy. "I misjudged you," she said reluctantly, crossing her arms and looking past my shoulder like she hated to admit it. "'Mortals change their allegiances like they change their garments,' I warned him. 'They discard their friends and their bond-mates like they throw away their garbage.' I did not accept Rumil's devotion to you." She shook her head as though the thought of an elf being devoted to a mortal was an unheard-of eccentricity. "Of the three of us I alone believed that you would not return. I feared that you would give Haldir hope and then desert him. I was wrong. Your heart and your word are true."
"Thank you," I told her, still thrown off balance by her revelation. "The three of you?" I asked.
"Of course," she replied in amusement. "Rumil recognized you, but did you think that he alone made the final decision? Haldir would not place so grave a burden on one elf's wisdom, not even Rumil's. Rumil argued valiantly for you."
"He argued with you and Haldir about me?" I asked both in disappointment and with pride in my dearest friend. Had Haldir resisted my choosing so much, for Rumil to have to defend me?
"He argued with me, for the greater part," Vanimé answered my unspoken question and motioned me down the path. Our conversation was over.
/i
i
20 January
Deep sleep does wonders for the weary soul. I awoke this morning before dawn, refreshed and in much better spirits than last night. Vanimé's words had made me realize that Haldir had only been doing what he had thought best the night before. I had been too sensitive, too eager. Last night's welcome had not been the place to expect more personal greetings. Still, he had been colder to me than I had expected.
The others still slumbered in the soft, luxurious bedding that had been provided for us in the stables. They deserved to sleep in. I, however, was going to do exactly what Haldir had taught me to do - rise before the others, and be strong. Even in rapt anticipation of resuming my morning swims with a very naked Elf Lord, however, I was still never going to be a "morning person," and I found myself yawning and blinking my way to the river.
When I got there the river was deserted. I took the opportunity to splash water on my face and stretch. Still he did not appear. I reminded myself that he hadn't actually said he would be here. I had just assumed he would be there. I looked around the caverns where some elves were already about, and decided that stripping buck naked alone in the open might not be the most courteous thing to do, especially if one of my companions decided to take a morning walk. Jogging would have to do.
I am finally beginning to see the attraction that some people have for jogging. It cleared my head, and allowed me to expand on the plan I had developed with Lindir last night for our first real day with the elves. A tour is in order. I want everyone to see and experience everything, to become familiar with all of the elves that will be teaching us about themselves and Methentaurond before we break apart into different pursuits. The whole, after all, is greater than the sum of its parts. It is the relationships between things, not just the isolated things themselves, which make up the fabric of life. That's what Mason's studies in ecology ware all about. "Gestalt" is the German word for it that I had learned long ago in architecture school. I'm sure there is an elvish word for it, too, elegant and lovely. I will have to ask what it is.
Perhaps I will ask Lord Haldir, for he has tasked me to meet him on the terrace outside of his study this morning before breakfast, to discuss my plans for the day. I wonder if Rumil will be there.
/i
i
20 January - continued
Although I was eager to the opportunity to speak to Lord Haldir alone, I was terribly nervous. He seemed resolved last night to keep me at a distance. I hoped that those barriers would drop once we could speak alone. I longed to build on the connection I had felt growing between us before we parted.
I changed into my rust-colored gown and applied a very subtle amount of makeup. I quickly walked the winding steps and bridges from my talan to his terrace. The cool, ethereal light of the strengthening dawn washed over stone and bark and water and dwelling, revealing an inner world whose daytime was as magical as its glittering night.
Lord Haldir was just emerging from his study. He had braided his hair back from his proud brow in his usual fashion, and he was fastening the last button of a gray suede tunic over his chest and leggings. It was a gray that intensified the blue depths of his eyes. He affected me so that I wondered if I would be capable of speech.
Indicting that I should be seated in one of the cushioned chairs the surrounded a delicately carved table on the terrace, he bade me a formal good morning.
"A new dawn rises in Methentaurond today," he said, sweeping his arm to encompass the lightening firmament of the caverns.
I bowed my head slightly. "Good morning, my lord," I replied with difficulty. Dutifully I sat, pondering the double meaning of his words. They were not so joyous as the songs of the elves that were softly drifting on the air to greet the new day.
He sat opposite me with the table firmly between us - too far away for my tastes. But the table was round, which offered some subtle possibilities. Good lord, I wondered, was I starting to think like Rumil?
"I trust that you and your companions slept well," he began, gracious but distant.
I replied that yes, it had been wonderful to sleep in real, warm beds again. The stable was quite welcoming. But my voice trailed off as I thought first of Bruno, and then, much more guiltily, of Callo.
"I am so sorry, about Callo," I began awkwardly, grasping for something to say. "I was told that you blame yourself as well as me," I said, leaning forward. His brows knitted. "My lord, there was nothing you could have done, or Lomion."
"Lindir speaks too freely. You have that effect on him," Lord Haldir said flatly. "Just as I must, you will come to face the consequences of your decisions, be they pleasant or sorrowful."
"Not even you could have predicted the future," I argued.
"These times are indeed strange," he agreed. "Only yesterday Narwen and Curulas shared betrothal rings," he said. His eyebrows rose as he awaited my predictable response.
"What? They can't stand each other," I protested, jumping to my feet in excitement.
"Apparently they discovered arguing with each other to be quite. . . pleasant," he explained, and looked at me as though he had just thought of something quite strange. I wondered if I was the only one who felt suddenly awkward.
"They will marry only once we have taken the Straight Road to the West," he added, his eyes flickering with some emotion that he quickly subdued.
This was the opening I needed to ask him how he had fared in San Francisco. "Much as I expected," was all he would say, and he rose from his chair, walked past me and leaned against the terrace railing. So this, I thought, must explain the tension that I still felt in his demeanor, I thought.
"You will find the Havens, I know you will," I told him, stepping toward him.
"And how do you 'know' this, adaneth?" he asked with a strange intensity.
"I just. . . feel it," I replied, hoping he wouldn't laugh at me. I looked down to the bundle in my arms. I had forgotten that I had brought it with me.
"Thank you for loaning me your cloak," I told him and pressed it into his hands, "and for the huckleberries," I added. He was so close, but I was too shy to look up at him. Would he even remember?
"You are welcome," he replied smoothly. I looked up then, to find his gaze cool and patient and unrevealing. Was that all he was going to say about it? Had I so comletely misunderstood his gesture?
"I missed you at the river this morning," I ventured, sliding my fingers away from the cloak.
"I am sorry to have disappointed you. I was detained," he replied in a tone that was not very sorry-sounding to me. "It is no longer necessary for you to continue - your penance for your actions in the Linluin has been paid. I release you.:
"But,. . . " I started to object, growing frustrated that he was ignoring the obvious fact that it was his company, not my punishment, that I wished to keep.
"Let us speak now of the days ahead," he interrupted in a business-like manner, and reseated himself at the table. Apparently this was not to be a personal conversation after all. We'll just see, I told myself, and sit down firmly in the chair nearest him on his side of the table.
We spoke of each of my companions and how the elves could best prepare us to preserve and nurture Methentaurond on our own. He made me repeat every detail of the plans I had discussed with Lindir, inserting questions and pointing out weaknesses as I spoke. Though he thoroughly exasperated me by challenging me to justify every decision I had made, and offered no suggestions, imposed no ideas of his own, I knew that my plans had improved greatly from his examination. By the time we were finished, I felt that he knew my companions as well as, if not better than I knew them myself. Still, I was sensitive about some of the questions he had raised about them, and at his sturdy refusal to speak to me on a more personal level. Sensing that he was about to conclude what had turned into an interview, I decided to employ a more direct approach. Before he could dismiss me, I sat forward on the edge of my chair until me knees were almost touching his.
"What did you mean last night that my people are 'adequate?'" I demanded. "They are not only adequate, they are experts in their fields. And beyond that, they are well-rounded, flexible, and they each care passionately about the earth. Joel is fascinated with herbal remedies. Mason has devoted his life to ecology. Roger is. . . Roger is perfect. They are perfect for this, all of them."
"You are satisfied with your choices, then?" he asked me, matching his position with mine. Still, he was much taller than me seated, and much, much more intimidating.
"Yes, yes I am," I said decisively.
"Then why do you seek my approval?" he challenged me, leaning back and crossing his feet casually, making my position completely ineffective. Really, he was insufferably skillful, and he was beginning to make me mad.
"Because," I said in exasperation, "I want you to be happy with them, too. I don't want to have brought someone who you don't want to be here."
"So you would send some of them back?"
"Well, no. I wouldn't want to do that. It would be rude. It wouldn't be safe. . . " I continued, and then I saw the hint of patient amusement on his face.
I folded my arms in front of me. He was maddening. That was the last straw. Incensed, I leaned forward and put my hands on his armrests, giving him a tasteful view of the neckline of my top and looked him square in the eye as best I could manage.
I can only maintain such intense eye contact with him for the briefest of moments, so I spoke quickly. "You like them," I accused him. "Well, except for Yasmin, maybe."
"I find it increasingly difficult and pointless to 'like' mortals," he replied dryly, his eyes grazing my bare skin boldly and then returning my gaze in such a way that I had to stand up and step away to control myself.
"You are pleased with my choices," I repeated, flushing all over in spite of myself and retreating to the balcony.
"You are their leader," he replied. "You must rely on your own judgement, not on mine. The time for that has passed." I caught the briefest of twinkles in the corner of his eye. He knew he had bested me, and now he was rubbing it in. He was seated; I had stood. He was in the position of authority. I chose to ignore this.
"I know you like them, I can see it in your eyes," I declared. "Don't try to deny it!"
"Marian, your stubbornness rivals even the most obstinate dwarf, the acquaintance of whom I have ever had the misfortune to make," he said in a long-suffering voice.
"And who was that? I salute him," I said.
"Gimli son of Gloin," he told me with a groan, "of the Fellowship of the Ring. It appears that the elves are destined to endure not just one, but two Fellowships. Go now, gather your Fellowship and go to breakfast, Marian. I will join you presently."
"Thank you," I told him, and I pushed myself from the railing to go.
"For what do you thank me?" he asked curiously as he stood to dismiss me.
"I thank you for finally saying my name, Haldir."
As the night before, an unreadable expression crossed his face. "My apologies," he said gravely, and bowed deeply to me, "Marian."
Transfixed, I savored the sound of my name on his tongue; the way he mouthed each letter, wistfully, sensually, like the slow tasting of a fine wine. By the time I recovered my senses, I was alone on the terrace.
/i
"Dear Marian," I overheard my brother sigh in his study after Marian had left. He pinched the bridge of his nose and closed his eyes, bracing his hand on the desk. He looked too weary for this time of the morning. Too weary, possibly, to withstand the inquiries that I was about to make of him. Was I embarrassed, to have put myself in a position to overhear such a private moment? Of course not. How was I supposed to advise Haldir properly if I didn't know his deepest thoughts, especially since he wouldn't readily tell me?
"Why do you not tell her that she is dear to you, brother?" I said, stepping from behind a conveniently tall topiary and into his study.
"Rumil, what ever would you do if I moved that bush?" he replied, sounding disappointingly unsurprised.
"Find another convenient spot, as you well know," I replied. "Please answer the question."
Haldir paused, actually considering answering me.
"She must not be distracted from her purpose," he replied reluctantly.
"Marian is not distracted, Haldir, she is in love with you. Surely you have noticed?" I countered, following him as he walked away from me and back out onto the terrace. He sat down heavily and stared out at the caverns.
"I am encouraged that you do not deny you have feelings for her, at least to me," I prompted. "I can see your struggle," I added wisely.
"Can you, Rumil?" he asked, uncharacteristically bitter. "Let me enlighten you, since you will not cease pestering me and I have not the will to deny you this day, as I trust you have already determined." I was caught off balance that it had been so easy. He truly must have been tired.
I leaned on the railing over Haldir's gardens and waited, watching Marian's retreating form.
"I have always accepted that I left hopes of love far behind me, with my youth," he contemplated. "Greater pursuits, more profound interests took the place of that which I had thought passed me by. As time has passed I have tired of this life, Rumil. I have become cynical of many things, disappointed in many things, not the least of which is the world that Men have made of Arda, which Men continually remake, leaving chaos in their wake. Each year has held naught but lessons in loss - of beauty, of nature, of freedom, of life."
I had known that Haldir had been troubled of late, but I had not realized the extent of his unhappiness until this moment. I was shocked.
"But then I saw her," he said in wonder, "rising out of the Linluin like the answer to questions I did not know my heart was asking. She is like a sunrise, Rumil, my sunrise. She has awakened that within me which I thought I could not feel, opened a place inside me that I did not know existed. Now, after so many millenia, I know that the wisest are right - love is the most profound of all things."
He stood up and turned away from me, his eyes searching the cavern ceilings as if for somewhere to anchor his thoughts. "She completes me, Rumil," he confessed, and I ached to see his turmoil.
"Why has such cruelty come upon me! Why her - a mortal! And why now, on the cusp of our journey home, when I must leave her! Some transgression must I have committed for the Valar to visit such a fate upon me. Now that I have found this place in my heart, what will fill the emptiness that will remain when she is gone?"
"I can think of no actions of yours, no intentions that have not been honorable and good. You have been true to the Light, faithful to a fault to the Valar. Surely you have done nothing to displease them, save perhaps playing your harp to them."
Not receiving the smile I expected, I plunged on. "You have been, and are now, a beacon of hope for us. There is a reason that those of us scattered across Arda are gathering here now, Haldir, to you. You have earned their reverence and trust. We know you have sworn to the Lady of Light to bring us home, Haldir, and that you would die rather than fail her, or us. But surely while you are still here. . . " I began.
"No, Rumil. I will not hurt her," he said vehemently. "I will not give her false hope! Already I have encouraged her too much."
"You know the Valar's purposes are rarely understood. The Lady Galadriel herself was humble to admit this, as was Gandalf. You must believe that there is some good design in this. Hope can be foolish, but never false. You know this. At least you used to."
"She is mortal, Rumil," my brother reminded me unnecessarily, shaking his head. "Mortals do not love as we love. She is infatuated now, perhaps, but this shall pass. She will be none the worse for it, lest I encourage her."
"You are wrong, Haldir, and you know it," I told him, sensing I was treading in dangerous waters. "Marian is not infatuated, she loves you deeply. I know her heart better than anyone, and I tell you that in this she will not waver."
"Rumil, she wants that which I cannot give her!"
"Nay, brother, she needs that which you refuse her by choice. Though you week to conceal your regard for her, she senses it within you. She is confused. By your denial you are hurting her, and yourself as well."
"You would have me renounce my vow, and stay, then? You would have me accept the doom of mortality? I tell you that if such a choice was possible, brother, I would make it. But I cannot."
"I would have you tell Marian what you truly feel. But if you will not give her your love, then give her your approval. You are holding her to an impossible standard, and you are hurting her. Take care you do not break her."
"I do not seek to break her, but to make her better than I, after I have gone. She must be challenged. She is strong, but she must yet become stronger."
"She is not a Galadrim, Haldir. Push her too far, and I will not stand by and watch her crumble."
"Are you advising me, Counsellor, or challenging me?" he said, standing and approaching until we were but inches from each other. I was dismayed and surprised at his suddenly threatening demeanor. Never had we come to such words, never confronted each other in such a way. What was becoming of us? I was more torn than I had ever been, caught between my allegiance to my dear brother and my need to protect my dear friend. So I changed the subject. I said to my impossibly stubborn brother, "Haldir, what more did the Lady Galadriel say to you, in the Gray Havens, when she departed? I have told you what she showed me, in my mind, what she said to me about Marian. Did she speak to you of her also? Will you not tell me?"
"She is still below, in the garden, is she not?" Haldir sighed and turned his back on me and the terrace railing. Apparently some of his strength had returned, and I would learn no more from him this day.
"She is wading in the stream, and looking quite lovely doing it, I might add," I told him, leaning over the railing and staring into the misty morning garden. Marian had good legs, and she was showing them off nicely holding her skirts up out of the water. If only Haldir would come over to look. "Wait. . . she is picking up a piece of wood from the middle of the water - she is rescuing a bark beetle from drowning; one of those really big, ugly ones. It is as long as my finger." I have very long fingers, to put this in perspective.
I turned back to Haldir's retreating form on the terrace to speak further to him, but as I gathered my thoughts I was interrupted by a most un-ladylike screech from the garden.
"What is she doing now?" Haldir asked, feigning disinterest but turning back toward me and rubbing his face with his hands.
"I believe she is trying to kill it," I reported, seeing Marian flailing about on the bank.
"Why?"
"It seems to have flown into her hair," I decided as Haldir rejoined me at the railing.
"I have embarked upon a fool's task, Rumil." Just as I was about to protest that teaching the mortals was not foolish, he went on. "I fear the Havens are lost. Methentaurond swells with elves and I must lead them to Cirdan's ships. Still there is no word of him from the watchers on the coast. Time grows short, and I know not what to do."
"Where is the march warden of Lothlorien?" I said worriedly. "Where is Lord Haldir of Methentaurond, my brother? What have you done with him? Come, let us walk to the Hall together. You only lack food in your stomach, muindor."
"I believe that is your stomach that is growling, Rumil, not mine."
"Do not surrender to doubt," I urged him, putting a hand on his shoulder. It was not often that I had the opportunity to comfort him - it was usually the other way around, ever since our childhood. It disturbed me that he seemed so close to despair. "We will find them, or find another way to journey home. There are many ships in the harbors of Men. . . "
"I do not think the Valar would welcome us to their shores in a fleet of stolen ships, Rumil," he said, looking down his nose at me. This was more like my brother.
"Forgive me for becoming angry," he said, and grasped my outstretched arm in his. "I will think upon what you have said about Marian."
"Will you forgive me as well?" I replied.
"You are forgiven," he said, but I did not reply.
"Rumil. . . "
"I think that I will save my forgiveness in trade for the next time I owe you a favor," I replied, crossing my arms.
"Then I will not have long to wait," he scolded with an encouraging measure of his usual wit, and pushed me toward the stairs.
"Seaweed," Longfellow
"Dear brother, at last you have returned home!"
"Lady elf-friend"
"Lord Haldir"