Title: The Tale of Marian
Chapter: 32?
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 32 - The Vigils of Knowing and Seeking
i
February 28
I noticed, like everyone else in our Fellowship did, that when we began to discuss how we'd keep Methentaurond running after the elves left, Mason and Joel distinctly different and rigid viewpoints on how things should be done. Both of them were directly contrary to mine, to my surprise, but I listened because I valued their opinions.
Joel and Mason both told me that once the elves left we'd have to tell the rest of the world about this place immediately. With only eight of us, they said, there was no way that we could maintain the gardens, the kitchens, the structures, for even a short time before we'd need an army of help. Not to mention the infrastructure that would have to be created, the computers and other delicate electronic equipment that would have to be brought in to make this a real research center that the world would be proud of and, not insignificantly, that each of us would become famous for.
Why was it that they were the only two who had lost track of what this place needed to be in order for it not to be ruined, its lessons lost? Methentaurond, and Tar-Caranorn as well, had to remain a sanctuary, I reminded them. Mason himself, I said in disbelief, had said that we'd been living in a rare intact ecosystem of which we were all a functioning part. Methentaurond had cleansing air and water; it regulated its own climate; it maintained fertile soil; it controlled pests; it provided a beneficial habitat and created no pollution: an almost perfect, and delicate, balance. And, I added, our research was going just fine. Slow, but just fine. There would be no computers, no electronics. I put my foot down on that. Nothing would change. Nothing. Outside of these caverns, further away, if we had to we could set up a separate research facility with the equipment we and others would need. But not here. Never.
And what about security, Dieter said vehemently. If we told the world before we had protective status of some official kind, we'd be overrun. There'd be no stopping the curious and the treasure-seekers, the greedy and the innocent alike, from destroying it underfoot before they could even try to understand what it was.
I reminded them about my friend Matt – that he was on the "outside" working for this very protection. Until we could contact him and assure ourselves that we were protected, we didn't dare tell anyone. And until we had an organization, a plan for how visitors and researchers could and couldn't use this incredible treasure, and the means to allow it to happen, it would be folly to tell anyone.
Thankfully the rest of our Fellowship strongly agreed. Sandy related how the tombs of Egypt had been sacked by treasure hunters, tourists, scientists and historians too eager and too careless to think ahead, removing and damaging centuries of art before it could be studied in its proper context.
Those things were delicate and fragile, Roger pleaded, but not nearly as fragile as the delicate ecosystem the elves had perfected and continued through the ages.
Yasmin told heartrending stories of small isolated villages whose "discoverers" had changed the inhabitants irretrievably even while they worked diligently to study them as they were before they were found. Whole cultures had been lost.
Still, in spite of everyone else's protests that we weren't ready yet, that we had to find a way to protect this place before we could tell people about it, they persisted. It was the way to do this, not simply that it had to be done, that they argued heatedly with each other and the rest of us about.
We were scared, that was obvious. It was a huge undertaking, we had all known that. But now that it was so close, it felt bigger than we had ever imagined; too big to get our hands around. We could do it, I told them. We would develop a plan that we could all agree on. We would take it one step at a time, and we would succeed.
"We'll succeed as long as we succeed YOUR way, you mean," Mason fumed.
"The way we agreed to succeed from the beginning," I told him and Joel firmly.
I'm so tired. Though I have the support of most of our group, this is my battle to wage. When did I allow it to become a battle instead of a common cause? Could I have kept it from becoming one? I feel so alone. I feel like everything is unraveling around me, and I don't know how to hold it together. When Haldir and Rumil return, will we be falling apart at the seams?
/i
i
March 1
It's been two weeks since Haldir and Rumil left for the world of Men – my world. For the hundredth time I prayed that they were safe. I pace the cavern paths – the waterfalls, Haldir's garden, the river where we used to swim together. I see Haldir's ghost everywhere, in every thing I touch or smell or see. I imagine him climbing the path to the waterfalls, gazing at them through the mist as he has begun to do daily. I walk to the clearing by the greenhouses and close my eyes, remembering him lifting me into the vat of grapes and holding me there by my waist, grinning and teasing me. Two weeks. Two weeks and I miss his presence so much that it's almost physically painful. How will I survive when he leaves for good?
They should be returning any day, any minute, I tell myself over and over. I stared at my drawing of him again today. His image in my mind has slowly begun to fade. His features are clear in some areas, blurred in others – when I need them to be crystal clear, forever. I had drawn him, in secret at first, then, when I saw that it was not in secret at all, openly. I had studied every curve, every angle, every plane, every slight change of expression. And still my memory has begun to betray me. Even this drawing is lacking. Yes, I find portraits extremely difficult – one misplaced line and the whole person changes. But it's the subject most of all. Haldir's essence can never be adequately captured in a drawing or a photograph. Yet I asked and received Sandy's permission to photograph the elves, Haldir especially, with some of her precious film. I hope I can convince him to sit for me.
I found my feet carried me late this evening to the first bridge between my talan and the path to Haldir's quarters. From this vantage point the telain of the caverns spread away and slightly below into the evening mist. I stopped on the bridge and followed the path downward with my eyes, then up along the series of lantern- lit bridges that led to his terrace suspended in the tree-columns, dim and unlit in the gathering night. Facing the terrace I closed my eyes for several moments, summoning the image of him as I had seen him last in that spot, and slowly opened my eyes.
He was there. Still as a statue he stood, silhouetted by the lamps inside his talan that must have been lit just as I closed my eyes. His hands resting on the railing, he was turned partially away from me so that I could see only a glimpse of his profile. So still was he that I blinked purposefully to make sure he was really there. Then, as if sensing my gaze, he straightened back from the railing and turned. Across the bridge, across the gap between us, his eyes locked on mine.
My heart leaped. I stood transfixed for a moment. Then breaking his gaze, I found myself moving across the bridge and down the winding paths toward him. My feet flew. No matter the distance he steadfastly maintained between us, no matter his disappointment in me, I would welcome him this moment, tell him how much I had missed him, longed for his company. He could rebuff me, I no longer cared. He was a magnet. He was the flame and my heart was the moth. I couldn't have stopped myself from going to him if I had tried.
I rushed across the last low bridge to the steps that rose to the terrace's arched entrance, heavy now with both thorns and new foliage. Suddenly nervous, I climbed the steps, eager to see above the horizon of the terrace floor once more, eager to see him. I emerged through the arch and looked hungrily around the terrace.
He was gone.
I knew that he had seen me start toward him across the bridge. Where was he? Perhaps he had momentarily gone inside. I smiled. I supposed that he hadn't expected me to run, to get there so quickly. The door to his study stood open, so I stopped at the threshold and called his name. Hearing the low murmur of voices, I walked through the study to the arched entrance to the front room, calling first his name, then Rumil's and Vanimë's. Why, I thought, hadn't Rumil come to tell me he had returned?
A cloak lay across an ottoman, two bedrolls nearby on the floor as though they had been carelessly dropped. Haldir was never careless. I heard voices again, several in fact, but the sound carried into the front room through the open front door of Haldir's talan. The voices sounded angry, though I couldn't make out the words. Feeling like I was trespassing but worried that something was wrong, I rushed through the room and its equally deserted entry court, and onto the path outside. The voices were coming from the Great Hall. One of the angry ones was Mason's.
I don't know why I didn't notice that things had gone so very wrong between Joel and Mason. Their rivalry had become cold and bitter, like an iceberg in a frozen sea. But I hadn't seen the true bulk of the iceberg below the surface of the water, I guess. Not until now. And now I have a very difficult decision to make.
/i
We reached Haldir's talan near dusk, travel-weary and more than ready to bathe. Haldir went first through his talan onto the terrace to look over his gardens- one of the things he missed most when he was away, and the first thing he always returned to whenever he came back. Of course, it also had a good view of Marian's talan.
I stopped in the entry to shed my cloak and follow him, when I heard yelling and a cry for help from the Great Hall that sounded like Vanimë's. Vanimë rarely had the need to call for help, especially not within the caverns. Haldir came inside – he had heard her as well. We dropped everything and ran for the Hall.
What we saw when we got there was not at all pretty. Joel and Mason were being pried apart with great difficulty by Dieter and Vanimë, while the rest of the assembled diners looked on in shock. Seeing Haldir enter, those assembled bowed and parted to let us through. Meanwhile, Turnaur yelled that the knives on the table were for eating with, not trying to kill each other with, dodging both men's vicious attempts to stab each other while he tried to take the knives away. Lindir and others joined in to help separate the two, and Haldir and I saw that our assistance was not needed. Mason's awe for Vanimë had all but disappeared: He and Joel struggled violently, spitting obscenities at each other and those who would hold them. They had just been separated when Marian burst into the Hall. Those around us shifted to give her a wide view of the spectacle, as if to say "See what you have done by bringing these mortals here?"
Marian walked slowly toward us, trying to take in what was happening. I stepped toward her in support, but Haldir raised his hand to stop me. Furious as he clearly was, his signal told me that he expected Marian to handle this serious transgression by herself.
Marian stopped in front of us first and bowed her head to Haldir. I could not have been prouder of her for this. I could see the emotions play across her face – joy at our return, shock, embarrassment, anger, revulsion, sadness. Haldir looked pointedly from Marian to the still-defiant pair held back by Dieter and Vanimë, but he didn't need to. Marian had already turned toward them, her shoulders shaking with anger, her eyes shooting daggers. Instead of making her appear weak, this somehow made her appear larger than life, a Vala bent on wielding justice. When Joel and Mason saw her face, they immediately stopped struggling. I doubt they had ever seen Marian like this – I certainly never had.
"How could you? Don't speak!" she ordered, and her voice rang through the Hall. "How could you defile these peaceful Halls with such violence? How could you insult these generous people who have opened their homes to us? You've humiliated yourselves and our entire Fellowship, no, the entire race of Men, by doing this. If eight people can't live and work peacefully in Methentaurond, how can we expect the entire world to do so? Has your obsession with besting each other become so important that you'd throw away everything we've worked for to. . . to beat each other senseless? To really harm each other?"
"No elf has ever touched another in anger within these caverns, nor elsewhere in Arda in my memory," Vanimë spoke into the silence that followed Marian's words.
"Nor spoken words of such darkness and wrath," Lindir added.
"It wasn't I who. . . " Mason began, but another look from Marian silenced him. She turned to Haldir, so embarrassed that I felt deeply sorry for her. "My Lord, I am truly sorry for their actions, and I hold myself accountable for them. I will accept whatever judgment you deem fitting."
"Marian, you can't possibly let him tell you what to. . . " Joel began, but Dieter, who still held him, squeezed his arms behind his back. "Shut up, Joel," Dieter hissed.
My brother, however, replied in a severe tone to Marian, "The judgment shall be yours."
Marian's eyes widened momentarily in surprise. Then she looked at me, squared her shoulders, and turned toward Mason and Joel. I would not want to have been them.
"Dieter, Vanimë, please have these gentlemen scholars escorted to two very separate unused telain where they will stay under guard until I see fit to render my decision."
"With pleasure," Dieter replied.
"You're sending us to JAIL?" Joel cried out incredulously.
"Without even giving us a chance to defend ourselves?" Mason added with indignation. "You have no right!"
"Really," Marian said coldly. "I'll give you each a chance to explain yourselves tomorrow, if you can manage to cool down by then. In the meantime, try to maintain whatever dignity you both have left by going with Dieter peacefully."
"What are you going to do?" I asked her quietly after they had been taken from the Hall.
"I know what I have to do, but I don't know how to do it," she replied uncertainly. "It's complicated. Will you come now with me to talk to the others?"
"Of course, darling," I assured her with a wink. "I will follow you anywhere."
"Don't call me darling," she growled, and I knew she was alright.
Marian and I and the rest of the Fellowship - those of us not in detention, that is - excused ourselves from Haldir and gathered in Marian's talan. She hadn't seen how the fight had started, she said, and asked us all to tell her what we had seen. The resulting comments were sketchy and contradictory, but Marian's conclusion was the same as my own.
"One of them has to leave," she said. "We can't afford to lose both of them."
"If we kick one of them out, he'll be angry and tell someone about us," Arianna worried for all of us. "We can't let anyone find out about us before Rumil and the other elves leave, and not even after."
"We could blindfold him and lead him out, like we were led in. That way he wouldn't be able to find his way back," Sandy offered.
"He'd still guess close enough to blanket the whole area with a search," Dieter said as he came in to join us. "Even if the authorities thought he was nuts, they'd still be on the alert. Not to mention all of the crazies that would start wandering all over the woods - this story would be even bigger than Bigfoot. There'd be no way that almost two hundred of you could leave under those conditions," he said to me.
"The elves are leaving in three weeks," Marian reminded us all. "We'll have to keep them both here until at least then. I really don't have any authority to jail either one of them, and I suppose I could be arrested for it later. But that seems like the only thing we can do right now. Then later we'll have to do as Sandy says, and lead one of them out."
"Which one?" Roger asked. "They're both indispensable."
"I know, Roger," Marian told him with a sigh, "but we've all agreed that none of us can function with both of them fighting all of the time. I'll talk to each of them in the morning. I'll be as fair as I can."
i
March 2
I wasn't thrilled with either Joel or Mason, or what either one of them told me when I gave them a chance to explain. It did cross my mind more than once that this was the perfect opportunity to rid myself of Joel's unwelcome advances, but that wouldn't be fair or impartial. It turned out that it was something else entirely that made up my mind.
I was sitting in total indecision on a rock that overlooked the waterfalls when Vanimë sat next to me and stared at the water. I hadn't heard her coming, but at least she didn't startle me so much that I fell off the rock into the water. I was too preoccupied to be startled.
I looked at her and waited as she curled her arms gracefully around her long legs, her golden hair floating on the cool breeze that came off of the water. Why did she always have to make me feel clumsy and plain? Because I am, I guess. It isn't her fault.
"Aldion, the elf whose family Mason is staying with, has discovered something that you need to see," she said, her eyes flashing with hurt and anger. Knowing that she would have told me about it unless she wanted me to see it first, I stood up with her and we walked together to Aldion's talan. The young-looking brown-eyed elf came down the path to meet us, wringing his hands in agitation.
"I was cleaning, and the door to Mason's room was open. It is never open, and I do not impose on his privacy. But he is not here now, and I thought only to enter his room to clean. I did not mean to look for anything," he said as he ushered us through the talan to a door at one end.
"Of course not," I reassured him. Aldion opened the door and stood aside for Vanimë and me to enter. I stepped into Mason's neatly kept room and looked around, not seeing anything unusual.
"On those low shelves, behind the dresser," Vanimë pointed.
The dresser sat at an angle. I thought as I walked around it that Aldion must have pushed it aside to clean the floor. Then I saw them, and I knew that it was Mason that I had to banish from Methentaurond. It was Mason who would never understand. Or worse, he did understand but he didn't care – he cared only about his own obsessions. There were seven of them – seven beautiful, irreplaceable lanterns from the caverns in various states of demolition, their starlight forever quenched in Mason's attempts to figure out how they worked. A camper's multi-function tool sat near the latest stolen lantern, the kind that had scissors and pliers and screwdrivers all in one. That, and glass containers filled with liquids and filaments and – well, I'm not a chemist so I didn't recognize most of what else was on the shelves. I understood enough to conclude that Mason was obviously brilliant at assembling experiments from found objects.
"MacGyver with a rubber band and some duct tape," I whispered under my breath. Vanimë screwed her eyes up at me, but I was too disturbed by what I saw to explain.
"An endless supply of free energy," I repeated what he had said to Vanimë weeks before.
"I told him he wouldn't find his answers here," Vanimë said, picking up and sadly examining one of the broken lanterns.
"He was too ambitious to listen," I concluded.
"I should have watched him more carefully – I should have noticed when the lanterns started to disappear," she said. "No one here knows how to call the starlight to them anymore, not even Haldir. We revere them as a gift from the Valar."
I tried to understand how she felt, knowing how precious the stars were to the elves, but I don't think I could ever really, completely understand. All I knew was that Mason had hurt her. He'd taken something irreplaceable from all of the elves. And he had begun an experiment in secret. It wasn't even so much the experiment itself as it was his secret defiance of the direction I had given everyone before we even got here. I simply couldn't trust him.
I promised Vanimë that I would make sure Mason never touched another lantern or anything else in Methentaurond. I promised her that as soon as they were safely on their ships and heading home, I would make him leave.
/i
i
March 3
I let Joel out of "jail" today, for which he said, "It's about time you realized you need me. You've make the right decision." This almost made me put him back in. Of course I didn't let him out until after I met with Haldir and notified him of my decision: Notified him, not asked him if he agreed with me or not. He had, after all, said the decision was mine, and been none too kind to me about it. As usual, he gave no outward sign of how he felt about my decision. God forbid I should actually find out what he really thinks about anything I do. It was only when I told him that I was letting Joel out on the condition that he bring Mason his meals and do his laundry while he was confined that I saw Haldir's eyebrows raise just a little. Well, what else am I supposed to do to punish Joel?
I also performed the unsavory task of telling Mason that he would be confined to the deserted talan but well cared for until the elves left Arda. Then he would be banished from Methentaurond. He didn't take it well, yelling that I was too "interested" in Joel to be impartial and that he had known better than me what was good for Methentaurond from the beginning. I really don't care. I wish we could be rid of him today, but that's impossible. I'm going to count down the next three weeks minute by minute because of Mason. No, not just because of Mason - because I dread each passing moment that draws me nearer to Haldir leaving. Each moment that draws us closer to Yestarë is a moment that slips through my fingers, a moment wasted and lost forever because it isn't spent with Haldir.
I was also finally able to welcome Haldir and Rumil back; Joel and Mason had been too much of a distraction before. I gathered that their trip had been as fruitless as Haldir's last one. Time was growing short. Haldir said that whatever progress they could make would now have to be made from here. How that will be possible I don't know.
/i
It was a few days after Marian's decision about Mason that Marian started mentioning to me again that she was concerned about Haldir's well-being. Ever since Callo died, Marian has been jumpy about all of us. If I so much as sneezed from a fleck of dust she put her hand on my forehead - what this accomplishes for mortals I'll never know - and eyed me for hours like the falcon I raised as an elfling. So, though I know it is no excuse, you might understand why I did not immediately take her observations more seriously. There is that, and there is the fact that I knew Haldir was under a great deal of strain due to the still tenuous nature of our departure from Arda and the dangers it posed for all of us.
Of course, I could have reminded Haldir that there was a very willing Lady who could help take away some of that strain, but he would have looked at me with brotherly disapproval, and that would have been that. As it was, Marian's staunch support of my brother and her constant faith in him did more for Haldir's peace of mind than any advice I could have given him. Actually, I had little useful advice left to impart.
"It's starting again," she elbowed me in the ribs just as we were finishing dinner. I was well into a potentially rewarding conversation with a lovely elleth on my left, so I did not particularly appreciate the interruption.
"Rumil, turn around and look," Marian hissed. "Rumil!" There came those elbows again. "This is important!"
That effectively ended my conversation, so I gave Marian my full attention, just in time to see where she was pointing. Haldir was leaving the Hall through the archway that led to the Hall's stairs, with Vanimë in tow. As she pulled the curtains together in front of the archway, Vanimë looked across the room in our direction, then pulled the curtains almost, but not quite, closed behind her.
"See that?" Marian said, wiggling her finger at the archway and shaking my arm. "She always closes them all the way, always, after she glares at me like it's none of my business. But tonight she looked right at me and left them open. That's an invitation, Rumil. Vanimë is giving me a sign. We need to follow them. Come on," she said, grabbing my arm and scraping her chair across the floor to stand up.
"Am I allowed to ask why?" I protested as I pulled Marian back down to her seat again. "Lindir is about to conclude the Lay of Luthien - the end is my very favorite part. If Haldir and Vanimë do not wish to stay and listen, must we chase them down and make them come back?"
"Rumil, I told you about this before. You aren't listening. They leave like this, and go somewhere. I see Haldir on the terrace afterward, and he looks sick, or tired, or troubled, or. . . it's hard to explain, but something isn't right about this. Vanimë brushes me off like you're doing right now. If you know where they go then tell me. If not, then let's follow them, right now, before we lose them."
"Maybe they go to the bathroom, Marian, how do I know? I've seen Haldir unduly exhausted, too. But have you seen him so fatigued since you showed us that we could travel unseen by your mortal surveillance devices? No, you haven't", I answered for her as she reluctantly shook her head, "and neither have I. Remember, I have just spent two weeks traveling with him constantly."
"Well, it's too late to follow them now," Marian complained. "But I'm not seeing things, Rumil. When we traveled together he was fine, too. No, it's something here, or something he's doing here, that seems to drain him of all of his energy. It dulls his eyes, it weakens him. If you don't believe me, then come to my talan tonight after Lindir's tale and see him for yourself."
"There is nothing in Methentaurond that would do such a thing. This is our haven, our home. It is safe. And I can see Haldir just fine from my own rooms, Marian, but if you want company tonight I would be more than happy to. . . "
"Rumil, be serious! And move your hand!"
"I will bring Miruvor," I offered. "It makes you wild."
"Don't remind me," she groaned. "Bring whatever you want, as long as you come."
So late that evening we repaired to Marian's talan, where I made myself comfortable. I pulled a long chaise over to the railing where the best view of Haldir's terrace was and sat down, crossing my legs. "I am ready." I declared.
"Rumil, don't be so obvious. He'll see us. Come inside. There, at the window by my bed."
"Well, this is better," I purred, and stretched out on Marian's bed, propping and fluffing the pillows behind me. There was an unobstructed view of Haldir's terrace from the window at Marian's bedside. I wondered how many times she had watched him there, innocently thinking that he hadn't seen her.
"At last! An invitation to your bed I have waited for years to receive. I am ready for you now," I said, stretching my arms and folding my fingers behind my head in a most seductive pose.
"Oh for God's sake, Rumil," Marian said, but she sat down next to me anyway.
"Stop cursing," I told her.
"Stop groping," she replied, "and I'll think about it. Behave yourself."
"I BEHAVE very well. You just haven't given me the chance to show you how well-behaved I can be: In bed."
"Look, here he comes," she rudely changed the subject and leaned over my lap to part the curtain. I made myself sit on my hands - I didn't want to make her shriek out loud. "Now tell me that you think I'm overreacting. Just look."
I looked. In fact I was somewhat shocked by Haldir's haggard appearance. I didn't want to upset Marian by telling her so. However, she was upset enough on her own.
"You see?" she said. "His glow – that glow that you have too – it's so much dimmer than I've even seen it before! And look how he supports himself on the railing, like he can barely stand. What's going on? Rumil," she insisted, standing up and heading for the door to the balcony, "you have to come talk to him with me.
"Now?"
"Right now! You have to make him tell us what's wrong. He won't tell me anything."
"Alright, I will speak to him."
"Now? Will you do it now, before he denies it?"
"Yes, Marian, I will go talk to him right now. But you are staying here. If he did not confide in you before, he is unlikely to do so now. Perhaps he will speak to me alone about what has made him ill at ease."
"Ill at ease?" "Ill at ease?"
"Stop pacing, please. I am going," I assured her.
"If he won't talk to you, will you promise to talk to Vanimë? Tonight?"
"Yes. I promise. Now drink some of the Miruvor I brought you and go to bed. Speaking of bed, I can't believe I am leaving you now when we are so very close to. . . "
"Go! And Rumil?"
"Yes, dearest?"
She stood on her tiptoes and kissed me on the cheek. "Thank you."
I did go immediately to Haldir. I suppose I was becoming as wary as Marian: I did feel that all was not quite right. But as I expected, Haldir told me only that he was tired from planning our journey and needed sleep. I sat in his bedchamber and we talked – or rather, I talked - as he prepared to retire. This gave me the opportunity to observe how truly exhausted he was.
Never having let my brother's reticence discourage me before, I next sought out Vanimë as I had promised, and asked her where she and Haldir went after dinner. What she told me did nothing to ease my mind. I don't believe she would have told me anything had she not become worried about him herself.
"You must understand, Rumil, that Haldir has asked me to keep a confidence, but I know little about what the confidence is. I only know that I accompany him to the passages below the Hall and part from him there – it is always a different spot. Then he tells me when I should come back to meet him there, and. . . and Rumil, he is always tired. I help him back up to our talan, and then he sleeps.
I shouldn't be telling you this, Rumil, I promised Haldir I wouldn't speak of it to anyone, but I have become concerned for him, and I now feel I must. If he will not even speak to you, this worries me even more.
Why didn't you and Marian follow me tonight? I could not have been more obvious – did she not see me leave the curtains parted?"
I told her that yes, Marian did notice, but I believed that nothing was amiss and did not heed her words until I saw him myself tonight.
We parted knowing little more than before, and with a promise on my part that I would tell no one what Vanimë had confided to me. I was disturbed that my own brother would keep something from me, and I resolved to confront him again.
i
March 7
The Fellowship wants to give the elves a "bon voyage" party. I have agreed. We all want to show the elves that we appreciate them and will miss them dearly, especially after what Mason has done. With Haldir's blessing, we've invited them all to gather at the green by the lake tomorrow, for the closer we come to their departure date, the more they will need to see to their preparations. This may be the last chance they have to truly relax and enjoy themselves before they leave.
Rumil has learned nothing from Haldir or Vanimë about his appearance last night on the terrace. Perhaps a party will take Haldir's mind off of his worries. Maybe this time he'll really dance with me, and I'll feel his strong, warm arms around me once more.
/i
i
March 8
Pleased with the preparations we had made for the party, I came back to my talan this evening to dress. But what to wear?
Sliding the fern and its stand aside and drawing back the hangings, I picked up a candle and walked slowly into the back of the small, shadowy alcove and hesitantly opened the wardrobe doors once more. Hanging above the mallorn box where I kept the jewel, rich fabrics shone in the flickering light, and again I wondered why anyone would leave such things abandoned or forgotten. Surely they had not been left there for me - Vanimë would have mentioned it. Yet, it was a shame for such beautiful things to go to waste, especially since such a fitting occasion waited.
Setting the candle down on the small side table, I reached in and reverently lifted a salmon-pink gown from its place and hung it on the wardrobe door. Taking hold of both sides, I spread the skirt out, translucent gold threading and heavy beading shivering in the light from the wavering flame. It was exquisite, yet I had seen garments almost as fine on some ellith here for special occasions.
Of course, it would hardly be likely to fit. Surely it would do no harm to just try it on. I was so tired of jeans and tennis shoes, and my two well-worn gowns. Feeling like a teenager, I lifted the creamy peach slip and drew it over my head. It fell from my shoulders in buttery, silken waves down over my hips, cascading to a stop just short of the floor. Next, I loosened the satiny gold ribbons that laced the front and long sleeves of the transparent gown and slipped it on, drawing the ribbons in again until it no longer hung loose around my waist. Finally, I held my breath and turned to look at my dim reflection in the wardrobe mirror.
At first glance it looked like a stranger staring back at me. The colors were perfect for my skin tone, and the fit was so exact that the gown might have been sewn especially for me. It was a masterful creation, accenting my assets and minimizing my faults. It rested at the outer edges of my shoulders and swooped down low enough to show some cleavage, just at the limits of remaining elegant instead of brazen. The ribbons tightened under my breasts, giving me no need for a bra, accentuating them by revealing more of the peach slip above my ribs, then drawing the outer layer together around my waist, making it appear slimmer. The ribbons stopped just above my hips, allowing the fabric to spread outwards again and reveal the peach fabric beneath in the center front from my hips to the floor. Beads in leaf and flower patterns interplayed with a diamond grid of golden threads, gathering and dispersing in just the right places around my body. It was deliciously ethereal and sensual, but at the same time refined and simple.
I knew at that moment that I desired nothing more than to have Haldir see me in this gown. I wanted him to see me as something more than just a plain, clumsy mortal who he had to suffer hanging around him. Could I dare ask him to see me just once more as a woman, whether mortal or elven, instead of, as he had said, a Lady? Might he, just once more, look at me in reality the way I imagined him looking at me in my dreams, the way he had looked at me fpr one precious moment in his gardens?
Could I dare wear this gown? I wished fervently that Allinde was here this evening to give me advice, but I hadn't seen her all day. Then someone knocked on the door and I opened it to find Rumil had come to accompany me to the lake. How thoughtful of him, as though he had predicted my nervousness. One look from Rumil and I knew I had to wear the gown.
/i
i
March 11
So much has happened in the last few days, and I haven't had the chance to gather my thoughts so that I can sit down and record it all until today. Some of it will be difficult for me to write, but I must.
I stayed as late as I could at the gathering last night, hoping in vain that Haldir would step in at least for a moment, but he never came. I was acutely disappointed, even when Vanimë told me that he had bee delayed by an important matter. It wasn't like Haldir to shirk a duty, although this was not that important of a matter. Even Rumil's attempts to cheer me up didn't help. There must have been something very important or very wrong to have kept him away completely, and I was worried.
I was feeling too sorry for myself to go straight back to my rooms. I left the lakeside and wandered a little by the light of the lamps that were spread like stars along the paths, until I realized that I might as well admit I was trying to find him, seemingly come across him casually so he could see me and I could determine that things were all right. I needed to stop this. I needed someone to talk to who would understand. I turned around on the spot and headed instead to the library, wondering if Allinde would be there this late at night. I hadn't seen her at the gathering either, come to think of it.
Allinde wasn't in the library, but Arianna and Dieter were sitting in the reading area by the fire together. Before I understood why all of the other candles in the room had been put out, I was over the threshold. I turned back toward the door and had a convenient coughing fit that lasted long enough for them to compose themselves. Then I turned back and innocently asked if I could have a glass of water.
Arianna jumped off of the couch, saying that she didn't have any water but she did have something that Allinde had asked her to show me. Arianna waved me over to the large table and lit the candles in the holder there. With great care she opened a very large volume to a page that had been marked with a silken ribbon, and pointed at a long passage written in elvish. I began to struggle with what it said. Seeing the words "Sarn Anor" but unable to make out some of the small writing in the flickering candlelight, I asked Arianna to read it for me if she could.
"I don't need to. Allinde told me she was trying to find out everything she could about the Palantiri, the Seeing Stones, and that you'd be as excited to read this as she was. She showed us this passage tonight and told us what it says in case we saw you before she did. She said to only tell you about it, no one else, especially not Rumil because Rumil would laugh at her. She just left. You must have just missed her."
"Arianna, please, what does it say?"
"It says that Cirdan the Shipwright took one of the Stones with him into the West, when the last ships departed. One, she said to be sure and tell you, not two. The writer believed that it might have been the Anor Stone once kept by the Stewards of Gondor, whoever they were. It goes on to record other details of their departure, including a description of a tall sylvan elf that the writer didn't know but was impressed with, who Cirdan spoke with at length, embraced and bid a fond farewell. Then the writer speaks of his trip back to his home and how he wonders if he made the right decision, but Allinde got very excited and said the part about the Stones would be the part you needed to know about. She said you'd figure out what it meant, and then she just left, like she was in a hurry."
Cirdan, I thought. Wasn't that the shipbuilder that was supposed to come for the elves at Yestarë?
"Do you understand what this is about?" Dieter asked me curiously. I held up my hand for a chance to think, and walked over to stare into the fire. I knew this was an important piece of the puzzle, or Allinde wouldn't have been so excited. It hovered just beyond consciousness, in the back of my mind. What was I missing? Whispers, fragments of remembered conversations swirled just out of reach:
Allinde, telling me that the Ithil-stone was supposedly lost in the War of the Ring ages ago, but no one was sure.
The stone in the tower of Elostirion, from Rumil's book, that had been taken to Valinor on the Ring-bearer's ship.
King Aragorn Elessar, my long-dead relative, who had passed two palantiri on to his children. One might have been the Orthanc-stone, which, the legends said, had at one time been used by the dark lord Sauron to poison the wizard Saruman's mind – a stone that people had been leery of; for obvious reasons, if the legends were true.
The Anor-stone, that the Stewards had guarded deep within the White City, that could see even through walls of stone. Had this been the other stone that Aragorn had claimed?
Think! I told myself. Maybe if I thought about what the stones themselves were like:
The stones had been an almost indestructible crystal, round, and dark. Some were big and some were small. I remembered that Allinde had told me they were supposed to be hard to use, that it took great willpower to focus them. Only the strongest – stewards and kings – could wield them, and only for a short time. People quickly became exhausted from using them, like. . .
That's when it all came slamming into my mind, like a tidal wave of realization:
Haldir, exhausted on his terrace at night after leaving the Hall with Vanimë.
The guarded corridor under the Hall that he told me was of no consequence.
Haldir, who had to be the "tall sylvan elf" that the writer had spoken of, for he told me that he had seen Cirdan to the last ships, Cirdan who had promised to return for him when he called.
And how was Haldir supposed to contact him? He had never really told me. He had only said "the way was now closed."
Suddenly the puzzle pieces fit together: Haldir had been given one of the Palantiri, perhaps by Cirdan himself, or King Elessar, and it wasn't working anymore! But why?
Then, ominously, I remembered Callo, and the dark, round crystal paperweight on his side table. Callo, who had desperately gasped that Allinde shouldn't see it, that she would be in danger. "Houseless!" he had struggled to warn me, though he had been almost too weak to speak. And Lindir had told me that the Houseless could be evil, dangerous. But Lindir was sure that there weren't any of them here. Oh my God! Callo hadn't meant the paperweight, he had been trying to tell me about the Palantir! Somehow Callo had known, or guessed, that there was one here, in Methentaurond. Had he thought that it was haunted?
Now I thought I knew where Allinde had rushed off to only moments before, and where, maybe, Haldir had been all this evening.
"Marian, are you alright?" Arianna asked me. Her voice snapped me back to reality. How many minutes had I wasted, standing here staring at the fire?
"I think I know where Allinde went. She could be in trouble. I need your help – come on!"
I ran toward the Hall with Arianna and Dieter behind me, praying that Allinde hadn't yet found a way to get past the guards in the passage. And what of Haldir? If that's where he was, then how many hours had he spent tonight, trying to reach Cirdan with a Palantir that Callo had warned was dangerous to Allinde – couldn't it then be dangerous to Haldir, too? Proud as Haldir was, had he thought that he could withstand whatever Callo had warned about, and force the Palantir to reach Cirdan's? Had he been desperate enough to try? Of course he had – he'd had no choice.
"Arianna, find Rumil and then Lindir and tell them we're underneath the Great Hall, where the corridors come together, and we need them!" I ordered, and Dieter and I ran on. How grateful I was that Dieter was strong and capable, and loyal enough to follow me without questions, for I felt I didn't have time to explain. I only hoped that we weren't too late.
From the poem "Remember That Country," by Jean Garrigue
Sarn Anor: The Anor-Stone