Title: The Tale of Marian

Chapter: 29/?

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 29 - Now You See Me, Now You Don't

i

20 January - just a note before dinner

I'm so nervous I'm scribbling, but things are getting outright weird and I've no idea what to do about it. The cloak Vanimë lent me is ruined and I can't possibly give it back. What am I supposed to tell her? If I don't return it she'll think I'm stingy. If I tell her I wrecked it she'll want to see if she can fix it, and she'll ask questions that I just can't answer.

You, dear journal, are the only one I can talk to about this, and I must say that it's a very one-sided conversation.

I will not under any circumstances take the jewel to the Hall for everyone to see, even if Rumil knows about it. It would cause chaos. Surely he'll see that if he knows. So all I can do is pray that he doesn't know, and take something else instead. The only things not spoon-worthy that I have not shown anyone are the goggles. If Rumil checked my backpack before I put the jewel in it, then they are what he must mean, though if so I don't understand why they are such a big deal. I'll have to take my chances.

I put them in a bag to take to dinner - Rumil loves to be dramatic and they might as well be a surprise, such as they are. Then I decided that I had better check on the jewel, just to make sure it was still there. This time I pulled the thick curtain tightly over the alcove, and I draped the fur throws that Allinde had brought me for the winter over it and under the skylight - it was still comfortable in the caverns, but a little chilly at night. Luckily these things were thick enough to keep most of the brilliant light from the jewel from spilling out all over the place again, as far as I could tell. I kept the basket in the wardrobe and leaned over to shield it as I opened it. I lifted out the jewel, wrapped in Vanimë's cloak, and saw a hole the size of a tennis ball in the bottom of the basket. The edges were blackened. I didn't think the hole was there before. Without thinking I turned the parcel over. I saw that it had holes in it as well like something had burned it, right where it had been resting on the bottom of the basket. The jewel shone out of the tattered cloak like a lighthouse beacon. Quickly I unwrapped it and shut the wardrobe door on it, pulling Vanimë's cloak out and holding it up to examine. By the light of the jewel through the cracks between the wardrobe doors, I saw clearly that it had large blackened holes all over it - it was completely ruined! I opened the wardrobe and threw the cloak over the jewel as best I could, then I slammed the door shut again. Had the jewel actually burned through the cloak and the basket? How could it have - it was strangely warm to the touch, but not hot. I opened the doors again and slid the basket over - there was a small blackened indentation on the bottom of the wardrobe where the hole in the basket had been. This is crazy! Before I go to dinner I'll have to find something else to put it in, something not flammable, like a thick metal box. I'm leaving now to find something. But first, I want to take one more look at the jewel, just to be sure my eyes aren't deceiving me.

/i

Ah Marian, Marian. As soon as I began to read this part of her journal, I could see that she had tried to erase the word "jewel" and put "object" in its place. Most likely she thought that I might find the journal. To my chagrin I did not, not until after she was gone. But my eyes have always been better than hers; I could see the imprint of the word underneath its replacement. So I have, when I quote her journal, put the right word where it was meant to be. Clever girl, she may even have hidden it somewhere besides the wardrobe, and written that it was there just to throw me off. I suppose I will never know, for I was not aware of it at the time, or even later, when I could have helped her most. But I'm getting ahead of the story.

Marian brought her secret to the Hall in a bag. I know this, not because I saw her come in with it, but because I met her at her door as she was coming out with it and escorted her to dinner. She was not amused when I told her that I must ensure that the spoils of my wager were delivered to Haldir. She told me most unfairly that it was not she who was "spoiled" and that I was making her feel like a criminal. She would not even let me check inside the bag. She really was quite a bit more agitated than the occasion warranted.

Marian wanted to sit in the back of the Hall, but I insisted that she dine with me on Haldir's right, where she could not act on any second thoughts. Vanimë sat in her usual place on his left. Marian could hardly look across the table at her without seeming embarrassed. She clutched the bag under the table and hardly ate a thing. I began to regret my wager; I had not intended to make Marian so uncomfortable. Haldir finally took pity on her and cut dinner short, standing to gain the attention of the elves and mortals in the Hall.

He strode to the front of the main fireplace, and the Hall became silent with expectation. "A wager has been made and lost," he declared with somber dignity, though I could clearly see mirth behind his serious façade. "Counsellor, come forth. I have called this time and place for payment to be made."

"Rumil, I really don't think this is a good idea," Marian pleaded under her breath, but I rose and took her gently by the arm, escorting her to stand before Haldir and those in the Hall.

"It is best that your people see what you have brought. They are suspicious," I reminded her in a whisper.

"And whose fault is that?" she hissed.

"Silence," Haldir ordered, and motioned Marian to open her bag. She reached in and pulled out her goggles, so that only Haldir and I could see. "I assume this is what you were expecting, Rumil. I don't think. . . " she began, but Haldir told her in no uncertain terms to hold them up for all to see. Huffing and rolling her eyes quite disrespectfully, she turned around and raised the goggles over her head. A number of disappointed and questioning looks passed between those present, mortal and elf alike. "Are you both satisfied now?" she asked us out of the corner of her mouth as she continued to hold them up.

Haldir turned to me dangerously and spoke for all to hear. "Counsellor, I expected a wager worthy of our challenge. Explain yourself, and quickly."

"Allow me to explain, with Dieter's help," Marian requested, lowering the goggles. "I owe it to our fellowship, and I was going to show them to you both anyway."

"Later. Alone," she added under her breath, not noticing that most of the elves immediately nearby could hear her quite clearly.

"Proceed," Haldir instructed her without interest. Marian waved Dieter forward.

"These are night vision goggles," she began. "They were my late husband's, when he was in the Air Force. They take whatever light is available – the stars, the moon – and concentrate it so you can see things at night. Especially things that are moving. They also have an infrared function: Any object that radiates heat, like a fire, or our bodies, or animals, shows up in the dark as red light, or orange, or such, depending on how warm it is." She looked to Dieter for support. "Like the satellites use," she said to Haldir meaningfully. "Are you sure you don't want to talk about this more privately?"

"It is a problem that all present in this Hall are intimately aware of," Haldir told Marian, ignoring her request. "In ages past we walked unseen, passing as a brief glint of light or the murmur of water to mortal eyes and ears. But no more. Twilight and starlight no longer provide the protection we need to travel outside this haven, especially as a group, now that men have made such machines."

"Exactly."

"No, not exactly," said Dieter, taking the goggles from her and examining them. "Marian, these are over twenty years old. The technology has changed a lot since then. Now it is more sensitive, more precise, and much more powerful. And if I'm not mistaken, these aren't supposed to be personal property."

"Never mind about that," Marian said, returning Dieter's grin. "But it's basically still the same type of technology that the satellites and the military use, isn't it?" she asked him hopefully.

"Well yes, on a very basic level," Dieter replied cautiously. "Why did you bring them?"

"And how did you fit them into your backpack with all of the rest of your. . . possessions?" I couldn't help but tease her.

"I left the extra roll of toilet paper behind this time," she shot back. Then she turned to Haldir. "I just thought," she told him earnestly, "that if I brought these, we might be able to figure out a way that you could trick them; keep people from being able to see you with them, or with the satellites, when you leave. I wanted to find a way to help. You are helping us so much."

While Marian was speaking, Dieter was trying on the goggles, looking first at Marian, then at me and Haldir. He became very, very still. "Marian," he said quietly.

"We will consider this," Haldir was saying.

"Marian," Dieter said more loudly. "Marian, have you tried these yet? You have to see this," he insisted in excitement. "Excuse me, sir," he said to Haldir, "but I need to be sure. Can we get away from the light in here, go out into one of the gardens, right now while it's dark?

Upon Haldir's assent we reassembled in the kitchen gardens behind the Hall, all of us. Dieter's obvious excitement caused everyone, mortal and elf alike, to want to be part of whatever was about to occur. We only stepped on a few of the herbs, I swear.

There was still too much light in the gardens, Dieter declared, so Haldir reached out and sang out a gentle command, dimming the lanterns nearby until it was quite dark. No one thought anything of it until the mortals expressed their amazement.

"Who did you signal to dim the lights?" Mason asked, and Haldir replied that no signal was given. "You just waved your hand, and they went out? That was quite a trick," Mason said in fascination. "I called upon them to do so," Haldir said, and regarded Mason with patience. "It was no trick. Yet few here remain who may call upon them to do their will. Perhaps it is what you would call magic, though I do not know."

Dieter politely positioned me and Yasmin in the darkest corner of the garden near some of the larger shrubs, and checked the goggles again. Then he handed them to Marian. "First, without the infrared," he instructed her impatiently. Marian donned the goggles and looked through them at us. Then she handed them to Haldir. "I can see you both, but Rumil most brightly of all, because of your aura," she said in disappointment.

"Does anyone have a cloak for Jason - I mean Rumil?" Dieter asked, looking to Vanimë, "one of those amazing cloaks that we had in the tunnel?" An elf came forward with one, and with Vanimë's approval, put it around my shoulders. Being relatively intelligent, I understood what Dieter had in mind. I tucked my hair under the cloak and pulled the hood up over my head, hiding my face while still having an adequate view of my surroundings.

Haldir looked through the night-vision goggles again, then handed them to Marian and Dieter. "Rumil, move around," she said, and I walked back and forth. "I can't see you, unless you look up!" Marian exclaimed, but Haldir remained stoic. "Now the infrared," he said to Dieter.

"This is what I wanted to show you," Dieter said, handing Marian the goggles. "I don't understand it. Tell me that you both see what I see, please."

Marian put on the goggles and looked first at Yasmin, then at me. "I. . . I don't understand either. Is this set right?" she asked Dieter. Dieter checked the goggles and confirmed that the setting was indeed correct. She looked at us through the goggles again, and then, silently and with teary eyes and barely contained joy, she put them into Haldir's hands.

In the complete and expectant silence of the garden, Haldir held the goggles up for a long moment, then told me to remove my hood. As he lowered them his eyes were shining with hope, the kind of hope that I had not seen in his eyes since I had returned. "I can see you," he said to Yasmin, "glowing in the night, like the brief intense flame we liken to your kind. But I cannot distinguish you, cloaked or not, from the plants or the soil," he told me with wonder.

"That's impossible," Joel said, coming forward and accepting the goggles from Haldir. "You are as warm-blooded as we are. You're. . . "and his voice died away as he raised the goggles to his eyes and looked first in Yasmin's, then in my direction, and finally at Haldir. "There must be something wrong with these," he said, staring at the goggles incredulously. "There has to be."

"There is nothing wrong with them, Joel," Dieter said happily, and handed them back to Marian.

"Count Rumil of Transylvania, you have no reflection in the mirror," Yasmin pantomimed to me. I ignored her, and removed Joel's hands from my arm. He was suddenly looking at me like a science experiment and trying to take my pulse. It was most annoying.

"All of these years. . . we thought that we could be seen," Vanimë said regretfully.

"We are of the land, and the land is of us. Mayhap this is the reason," Haldir said to Joel. Then he turned to Marian and bowed deeply, for which she was clearly embarrassed. "You have shown us our path, now unhindered, to the Sea. A great burden has been lifted from our hearts. We are in your debt," Haldir told Marian in a voice deep with emotion.

"We are in yours," she insisted. "In more ways than we can describe."

It was the unspoken responses rather than the words that passed between Marian and my brother that betrayed for all to see the regard that they held for each other. Even the mortals took note of it.

Later as we walked back to our talan, Haldir told me that Marian had fulfilled what the Lady Galadriel had told him was to come – that Marian would aid us to find our way home. Finally, I thought, after an age, a brief glimpse into what the Lady of Light had shown my brother. Yet I knew him well: This alone was not enough to bring that solitary tear to his eye. I pointedly commented to Haldir and Vanimë that there had to be more to what our Lady had shown him – there always was. And only half of our problem had been solved: We now knew how to get where we were going without being seen, if we were careful. The larger issue remained: we still didn't know precisely where our destination lay.

"It is enough," he said firmly. "I will ask no more of her."