The Tale of Marian

by Rana1

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

36. Ch 36: Why Do The White Gulls Call

Title: The Tale of Marian

Chapter: 36?

Rating: Hard R 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: Moderate angst; sexual situation.

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

Disclaimer: See Chapter 1 for disclaimer.

THE TALE OF MARIAN

Chapter 36 – Why Do The White Gulls Call?

Marian never understood why I chose to stay. The fact that she stopped arguing about it so quickly - even though Haldir and I were doubly formidable when we joined forces - at least showed that she understood she needed me. She didn't understand that I needed her, too. I couldn't leave her to face her future alone. I wouldn't deny myself the sharing of the remaining years of her life, so dear was she to me. Besides, fifty years or so were but a few moments in time, and I would be with Haldir and Orophin again until the End of Days.

Marian didn't accept that she was needed and valued; especially by my brother. I knew better. Haldir was grieving deeply at leaving her. You may think me crass, but he needed her to sooth both his fea and his body, more even than she needed him. Apparently, it fell on me to make both of them see it before it was too late.

These were my musings as I loped back among the tree-columns the way I had come, leaving Marian safely ensconced in Haldir's talan. Now I renewed my search for Haldir. Where had he disappeared to?

Coming within sight of Marian's talan, I stopped and put my fists upon my hips. Who was it pacing in front of Marian's door, but Haldir? I stared at my brother, obviously newly washed and groomed, in most handsome garb, silver and shimmering in the lantern light. Remembering my ruined tunic, I wondered if he would let me borrow this fine one when I joined him in Valinor. I would have to remember to ask him.

He stopped cold in front of her door. Then, flinging his unbound hair back over his shoulder, he walked swiftly away, a deep frown on his brow. I pitied the ground that was raked with his fiery eyes as, strangely oblivious to his surroundings, he came within mere yards of me before sensing me standing in his path.

His face briefly flushed. Then he gave up all pretense of doing anything other than what we both knew he was doing.

"Where is she?" he demanded. "I have searched from the marbled Hall to the gardens and the falls of the Linluin itself. She is nowhere to be found."

Oh, the opportunities this scene presented. But I was too concerned for my brother's well being to take advantage of them. Or was I?

"Perhaps," I offered, "she searches for you as well."

Haldir considered this a moment. "She would not think to do so," he discarded the idea morosely. "I have held her at bow's length time and again. No, she is within another's talan, taking consolation - with a friend, perhaps," he said quickly, clearly upset at another possibility. "I will not make a fool of myself knocking on every door in Methentaurond to find her."

"You exhaust yourself, muindor," I scolded him lightly, taking a few steps back toward Haldir's talan. "If Marian is not to be found, at least allow yourself some sleep. Much of tomorrow lies ahead to find her if you still have a mind to."

"The restfulness of sleep eludes me this night, Rumil," Haldir sighed heavily, stepping away from Marian's door with me. It had eluded him for many nights past, I knew. I took a few more casual steps along the path. Haldir looked back at Marian's door, and then we walked slowly toward his talan in companionable if cheerless silence. The fact that Haldir was letting me glimpse his inner longings showed me how desperately he needed her company, how dismayed he had become at the time that was slipping away from us all. He would never have revealed so much to me in other circumstances, and nothing to others.

We reached the entry garden and his door, which I opened wide and stood back from so he could enter. Really, did I have to do everything? "Good night, Haldir," I stepped into the front room and said rather more loudly than necessary.

Haldir stood, dissatisfied. "One moment," he said, and pushed past the curtains into his bedroom. Elated, I made a quick retreat to the door and was closing it when he returned with a cloak in his hands. "I will return to the library again, in case she has gone to Allinde's side. Sleep peacefully, Rumil. I will rest later, as well as can be expected this night."

"No!" I said rather too quickly. "I will look in on Allinde. If Marian is there, I will tell her that you are at home, having searched for her in vain."

"Rumil, I can conduct my own affairs. . .pursuits. . . you know what I mean!" he glared at me. "Oh, very well," he acceded. "But I mean to search the garden again. Mayhap its fragrance will bring those dreams that have so lately deserted me." He waved me off, and I retreated out the door quickly before he changed his mind.

Panicked that perhaps she really had reconsidered and gone to the library I sprinted there, cracking the door open slowly and quietly. Seeing only Allinde's pale sleeping face in the warm glow of the embers of the fire and Joel collapsed in all of his clothes on a cot nearby, I ran to Marian's talan and flung the door open. "Marian!" I hissed, but there was no reply. Where was she! I had no idea that this was going to be so difficult. The two of them really were quite hopeless.

I ran quietly back to a well-used vantage point from which I could spy Haldir's talan, and waited. Having been a warden of the forest for centuries and possessing abundant imagination, I was well practiced in waiting still, silent and alert for many hours at a time. Usually, however, I was not this anxious. Finally, after nearly dropping from impatience and boredom, I caught movement. Haldir was returning to his door. But wait, he paused outside, changed his mind - again! - and started out once more in an agitated manner in the direction of Marian's talan. I jumped out onto the path, smoothed the front of my tunic, and casually walked toward him. This was getting ridiculous.

"Ah, there you are," I commented with apparent relief, and stopped directly in his path. "Well, she is not with Allinde, and she is not at home, and I can hardly keep my eyes open. I expect you will continue to scour the caverns all night, and I don't blame you. I wouldn't sleep a wink until I found her if I were you. Well, I'm going to enjoy my soft bed this one last time if you have no further need of me. We will certainly not have such comfort for many nights to come," I concluded, and stood waiting for his reply.

I did my best to conceal my impatience as my brother examined me quite suspiciously. I knew what was crossing his mind: I was suddenly urging him not to retire, meaning that I was obviously trying to get him to retire. To avoid my manipulation his response should be not to retire. Yet he knew that I would anticipate this response, so therefore he should retire to avoid my real objective, which was for him not to retire at all. His problem was that he didn't know why, and I wasn't about to tell him. Luckily for me, he was far too upset to give any of my words any consideration at all.

Rolling his eyes, his jaw clutched in complete exasperation and not a little anger, he went inside his talan and shut the door in my face. Praise the Valar! Now, what had happened to Marian? I stood staring at Haldir's unhelpful door considering numerous possibilities. Momentarily I heard muffled voices from within, and I smiled broadly. Really, what would they do without me? Certainly not what they were about to do. I allowed myself a small and silent victory dance in front of the door before I retired, at long, long last, to my own bed and my own dreams.

i

The night stretched on as I waited, and I began to wonder if Haldir would return for the night at all. Was he still ensuring that all was prepared to his satisfaction? Had he gone to some private place to be alone, his responsibilities weighing on him in his solitude? I left for a brief moment to check his garden but it was empty. Was he with someone? Did I dare leave again to search for him?

I must have fallen asleep at some point, for I awoke to the sound of low voices in the anteroom, a door shutting, and then silence. I arose groggily and straightened the bed as quickly as I could, my heart pounding at what kind of reception I might receive.

I felt that the rooms were no longer empty, but there was total silence. Was he here?

I groped for the cloak in the candlelight, throwing it loosely around my shoulders, feeling at once vulnerable and foolish in only the thin negligee. I nervously approached the curtained arch. Was I wrong? Had he paused at the door and then gone on? Maybe it would be better if I left now; he need never know that I had come, that I had been so weak and needful of him.

Yes, I saw clearly at last. I had made a bad decision again, imposing on him when he had more than enough burdens to bear without me to adding to them. I resolved to leave quickly before he returned, and stepped through the curtain.

Before I could scream or even draw breath, I found myself in an iron stranglehold, my cloak fell away, and a strong, familiar hand clasped across my mouth.

"Marian! What are you doing HERE?" He sounded startled and angry as he loosened his grip on me and turned me around by the shoulders to face him. Then his eyes took in the candle, the closed curtains, and the white negligee in sudden comprehension.

"Not waiting to be attacked," I replied shakily under his intense, evaluating gaze.

"Such caution has saved my life on many occasions," he replied, raking his eyes thoroughly over my body, which I knew he could see most of through the negligee. "You should have told me earlier of your intentions."

"I didn't know earlier of my intentions," I countered. Was his tone of voice meant to mock me, or was it only my own insecurity that made it seem so?

In the uncomfortable silence that followed, I noted in the flickering candlelight his sleek silver-gray leggings and abbreviated tunic: sleeveless, the mandarin-like collar high around his neck yet cut low to his chest in front, its edges dancing with metallic embroidery in the candlelight. The garments emphasized his tall form, broad chest and shoulders, hard-muscled arms, proud neck to perfection. His hair was unbraided and shone lustrous in the glow of the wavering flames, and he smelled lightly of leaves and forests and wind in the trees. This was not a garment made for working; he had obviously bathed and chosen this clothing with care for something, or for someone. And he had not expected me to be there, was angry, even, that I was there. Rumil was wrong. I was wrong.

I flushed with humiliation and heartache, as I knew I would. If only I had not come! I would have to make as un-awkward a retreat as possible for both of us.

I steeled myself and looked up into his eyes, now a stormy blue-gray. I saw what I had feared most to see: weariness, pain, and worst of all, doubt - a feeling I knew Haldir was unaccustomed to.

"Haldir," I savored his name and reached up to touch his cheek I told him that I knew I should not have come to him. As he moved to speak, I put a trembling finger to his full lips and asked him to please hear me before he said anything, before I left. I took his silence as permission.

"You always praise others for their successes," I began carefully, "then blame yourself if they fail. You should be blaming us for Allinde falling ill – I know you shoulder the blame instead. You mustn't be so unfair to yourself."

I looked in his eyes again and saw that they flashed dangerously.

"Haldir," I begged him as he walked slowly away from me and parted the curtains to look out upon Methentaurond, "the weight of the world is not your duty alone to bear - you have passed it on to us, as it was meant to be. The Valar will not fail you. Believe in Eru's love; don't doubt your own worth. My Lord Haldir," I pleaded with my hand on my heart, trust me in this. Trust me, just this once."

Then he turned and took my chin in his palm, raising my face to his own. "I trust you," he said simply with a rare and gentle smile. "It is chance I fear to trust, when the lives of so many who trust me to protect them lie in my hands."

A great burden lifted from my shoulders - he trusted me! Those three words I had waited and longed for since the moment we had met. "Who told me," I said quietly, touched deeply by his declaration, "that even a small person could change the course of the future? Let it go, Haldir," I dared to plead. I reached up to caress his forehead and he closed his eyes. "It is consuming you. Let your mind rest, let your heart be at peace," I begged him, trailing my hand down to his chest and feeling at once the taught, controlled, awesome power of his body. Slowly I dared to move my one hand lower, down the soft fabric over his ribs and onto his tightly flexed abdomen. He did not stop me. I paused there, unnerved and unsure what to do, only staring at his closed eyes, his parted lips, trying to memorize his dear face at that moment. So strong and noble and beautiful he was, inside and out, I could hardly bear it. How could I presume to touch him, I reprimanded myself. I drew in a sharp, shuddering breath and removed my hand.

"Marian," he commanded in a strained voice, capturing my hand in his and placing it over his heart once more. "You have not answered my question. What are you doing here? What do you want?"

I looked up into his eyes, which smoldered as he opened them with unspoken, hidden thoughts, and his face - it was if he had never smiled at all. Had he turned cold again so quickly? Was he belittling my feelings? Clearly he could see how I was dressed; why I had come. Why must he make me say it?

"I can see that you are expecting someone," I said unevenly. "I should go."

"I assure you that I neither expect, nor desire, anyone. . . else." His grip on my hand did not loosen. In fact, he pressed it tighter to his chest. "Tell me what you want, Marian."

"I want you," I whispered. Any shred of pride or composure I had was gone, my heart standing more exposed before him than my trembling body through the thin fabric upon it. "I. . . need. . . you."

"You would offer yourself to me," he said, his voice grown deep, "knowing that in a matter of days I can offer you nothing in return, no promise, no comfort, only to bid you final farewell. . . you would still offer me this?"

"It isn't a selfless offer," I replied shakily. "I can't bear to be parted from you, never to have asked to know you, touch you, if only once. But - if you can't want me - if you don't want me – I'll understand."

"Marian," he growled my name deep in his throat and cupped my face in his hands, "I cannot. . . " and at this denial I shuddered and could not stop the tears from rolling down my face.

"No," he said, his hands caressing my hair, my neck, wiping the tears from my cheeks. "No, you do not understand. I cannot. . . deny you, or myself, any longer. May the Valar forgive me!" he gasped, and pressed his lips onto mine.

It was not a kiss of bodily lust alone. That I had experienced after my husband died, when I was desperate to be touched again. The exchange of lust without love was a feeble, empty thing. No, this was a kiss of Haldir's passion and need and reverence that matched, even exceeded my own. The smooth warmth, the rich autumn-nut taste of his lips caressing mine lay bare and raw that place in my soul that cried out for him, and a tremor rushed through my body. He pulled me against his chest, and he kissed me still. I couldn't stop shaking even then, when we stood so tightly against each other that his warmth and strength radiated through our clothing and I was deliciously, tortuously aware of every tiny point where his body was pressed against mine. We stood still for a while like this, until at last I could breathe evenly, and my trembling turned to calm. I might have stood like this with him forever, folded securely in his arms. But I was consumed with the need to feel his bare skin on mine, to bring him as intimately close as two people can be. And yes, I wanted to wrap myself around him and claim him as my own, if only for just a little while - if only I could figure out how to get his damned shirt off.

I'm not sure how detailed I should be, here on these pages. Just like my image of his proud face started to blur so that I asked him to sit for Sandy's camera, I want to record every touch, every sigh so that I never forget even the slightest detail. But if Rumil ever gets hold of this he'll tease me mercilessly. If anyone else finds it, it won't be fair to Haldir's privacy. But my desire to remember is greater than what small chance there is of someone else finding this journal. After all, I'm rarely without it in my possession.

Seeing my difficulty in understanding his garments, Haldir undid - a zipper, of all things - so neatly hidden in the side of his tunic as to be completely invisible. He also obliged me by helping to remove the rest of his clothing. He did so slowly and neatly, his eyes sparkling at my impatience. My garment was discarded with ease - one smooth and possessive motion of Haldir's hand sent it shimmering to the floor around my feet. He stepped back to look at me, and I flushed instantly at his examination and at his confident stance in standing naked but a short reach away. He'd seen me without clothes before, of course, but, well, not under these circumstances; not with these intentions. Like every time he had disrobed at the Linluin, I couldn't take my eyes away from his body. It was as beautiful, as sculpted and well endowed and magnetic to my eyes as before, but this time it was at full attention.

Suddenly I lost all confidence. I hadn't done this in more than a few years. I've always had to work rather hard to, well, finish. I was afraid of disappointing him. I wondered if his passion would be such that I wouldn't be able to match it, give him everything that he would want. Did elves make love the same way that men did? Would he be gentle? Rough? All of me was both frightened and aching to know. I looked questioningly into his eyes as he patiently waited for me. His gaze assured me that he wasn't displeased.

"I've missed swimming with you," I said, gulping.

"Touch me," he commanded in a low, tantalizing voice. Knowing at last that this night he wouldn't push me away, I reached out to him, running my fingers from his collarbone up to his jaw, my palm resting on his neck. I could feel his pulse beating, strong and swift. He laughed and pulled me firmly against him again. My whole body throbbed as it yielded to the feel of his solid form and smooth skin everywhere against mine. I laughed with joy as well and kissed his jaw, his ear, his neck as his hands explored my back and hips, tasting the faint spiciness of his skin, his scent that made my pulse race whenever he was near. I pressed harder against him, sliding my hands under his silken hair to the nape of his neck as I had fantasized doing so many, many times. Yes, it was as warm and as fragrant there as I had imagined it would be.

Haldir's lips moved in a warm insistent trail down my neck to my shoulders. His hands slid down my hips to cup my bottom and pull me tightly against his solid arousal, radiating with heat against my abdomen. He groaned slightly, and rocking slightly against me, drew his tongue from my collarbone up to my ear, where he whispered soft elvish words that I was much, much too aroused to bother trying to understand. His breath heavier and quicker than before, the rise and fall of his chest told me that he would want much more very soon. Eager as I had been for months for the same thing, I began to pull him with me toward his bed.

As those cloudy covers softly grazed the back of my legs, Haldir took me by the waist and pivoted, falling back onto the covers so that I found myself splayed on top of him. I wanted him so badly inside of me that I began to shift and search for him with my hips. But he laughed again, holding me up so that the object of my search was just out of reach. Pulling me forward, he tasted first one aching nipple and then the other, finding to his amusement that I was terribly ticklish on the right side.

Dear God, if Rumil ever finds out that one side's more ticklish than the other, I'll never, ever hear the end of it. He'll spare no opportunity to allude to this little fact in every innocent subject of conversation he can. Only I'll know what he's talking about, of course, making him confident that it will embarrass me to death anyway and everyone will wonder what's wrong with me. Oh!

"Patience, Amrun nim," Haldir whispered, his own labored breath belying his words. His strong hands explored gently from my waist to my face, and he kissed me deeply once more. Then he released me, leaving me free to do as I would. I looked down at him, spread on the covers below me, his feet resting on the floor, and I took the invitation to heart, touching and tasting every inch of him, feeling his pulse beat quicker, his breathing intensify. Finally when I had concentrated my attentions almost too long on a particularly sensitive area, he pulled me away with a muffled exclamation, and deftly turned me over so that I was now lying beneath him.

There was a merciless humor to his love-making. He had no reason to try and master the harp that he drew out at night to practice – he played my body with the skill and affection of a virtuoso, stroking and kneading my body until it hummed. His lips and fingers worked their way downward and further downward, his golden hair sliding behind across my chest and abdomen. I took great handfuls of it in my grasp at what he was doing to me. The world faded away. I don't know how much time went by. I rushed up from somewhere oblivious and deep in my subconscious where he had taken me – so close, so close to the edge. I writhed and cried out in frustration for him to give me what he had teased me with and denied me. He teased me with it all the more, poising himself above me, touching, toying. Just when I thought I could no longer bear it, with a moan he slid deeply into me at last, filling me completely and perfectly. He held me like that, not moving or speaking, for a long moment. My eyes closed, I tightened my arms and legs around him, savoring the weight of his body on and in mine.

"Open your eyes," he coaxed in a voice rich and smooth as velvet, propping himself up on his elbows. I opened them to his fathomless and slightly unfocused gaze. His eyes and his hair reflected the wavering tongues of candlelight, magical and ethereal. This moment must be when we would have bound ourselves to each other if we had both been elves. I started to speak, but realized that there was nothing I could say that would make this instant any more precious, any less bittersweet than it already was. He knew I loved him; to say it aloud then might have forced a response back from him; a response that he might be too close to giving me, which would mean doom for him. I started to speak; I gasped and held my tongue. He kissed me long and tenderly, and the thought that he did so because he knew what I wanted to say was enough. Even now I go over in my head what I could have or should have said, and I can think of nothing. Sometimes silence is the best choice.

Slowly we began to move together.

If not for my dreams I would not have guessed that Haldir, so masculine and powerful and demanding, could be at once so sweet and tender, or that he would lay bare the heights of his passion so deeply and openly. He called up to the surface a level of wantonness in me that I rarely revealed, and a depth of sensation that I hadn't known my body could reach. Finally, I cried out uncontrollably as the waves of my release washed through me. The powerful shudder, the primal sounds he made at the wild force of his own climax, the way he lay spent on top of me, panting and nuzzling my neck, touched my very soul. These things I will never forget.

Then, in the sweet aftermath, as we caressed each other tiredly and shared precious words of endearment, I found that we were beginning again. How could he be so ready and able again, so soon? I'd forgotten: for all the millenia of his life, he had the youth and stamina of a twenty-year-old, but with the delightful control and experience of countless times that age.

We made love, slept, talked, and made love again. I was awed to find that there were more facets of Haldir's complex personality than I had ever imagined. I was thrilled that he shared some of them with me there in his bed.

The night wore into morning, and I felt time slipping away from us. I lay awake in his arms and gazed at him in the growing light, quietly wiping tears that I couldn't hold back from my cheeks, hoping not to wake him. Of course, he awoke anyway, his eyes wise and sad.

"We knew this time would come, amrun nin," he said gently, and leaned over to kiss me again. "But we have a few more hours to share." He started to say more, caught himself, and then decided to speak. "Tell me," he said pensively, and stroked my hair, "have you a Chosen Name?"

"What does that mean?" I asked him. "You mean another name besides Marian?"

He sat up next to me to explain, becoming quite serious. "Elves have a Father-Name and a Mother-name that are known by all. But we also choose for ourselves a name that is private. Such a name is only given to family, or friend, or to one who is deeply, dearly loved. Do you have such a name?"

"No, I don't. I've never heard of a Chosen Name," I replied carefully. "I just have a middle name, but my parents chose it. I don't like it." Here yet again was another Elvish custom that I was completely unfamiliar with, and I wanted to be sure that I did nothing improper, or anything that would hurt Haldir's feelings.

"My Chosen Name I gave myself when I was but ten years of age," Haldir revealed. "I have given it only to my parents, Rumil and Orophin. Never have I lent or given it to another. I wish to gift you with it, if you will accept it," he said. I could feel the momentousness of this offer in every proud and tensed muscle of Haldir's body as we sat, hip against hip, in his bed. In the set of his mouth as he waited, I could read that because he wouldn't - couldn't - bond with me, he was offering me this in its stead, the most precious thing that he could think of to give me besides what we had shared all during the night and morning.

I sat up and stroked his tautly flexed jaw. "I would love you to," I replied. I wondered if I should put on some clothes and stand up for such a thing, but Haldir pulled me silently into his arms. As he held me, he whispered his private name into my ear, telling me in English what it meant. I smiled into his silken hair – it was perfectly suited to him, to an elf-lord, a name I could easily imagine for him. My heart longed to see the ten-year-old Haldir who had chosen it.

Then he sat back and waited. After a confused moment I realized he was waiting for me to tell him my middle name.

"Elizabeth," I told him, wincing. "Don't ever tell anyone."

He looked at me in a slightly wounded fashion. "I will not," he assured me. "Elizabeth," he repeated. "Queen. It becomes you, adaneth. Your parents chose well."

"Even Rumil doesn't know my middle name," I stressed, horribly embarrassed.

"Not even Rumil," Haldir whispered, and his eyes sparkled possessively as he leaned toward me. He laid me back upon the covers once more. His silver-gold hair falling in a tent around us, he began to say such things with my middle name, and follow them with such actions, that I decided perhaps Elizabeth wasn't such a bad name after all.

/i

We left by the main gate. Haldir led Marian by the hand up the marble stairs and onto the balcony overlooking Methentaurond. From this vantage point the caverns spread away and below us into the evening mist. All along the series of lantern-lit bridges the telain lay suspended among the tall tree-columns, for the first time in my memory dim and unlit in the soft twilight. We followed and stood with him, our number great, so that we formed a long line along the wide steps and down to the landing fronting the curved stone entrance to the Great Hall. As ghosts we appeared in the gathering dusk, shrouded and hooded in the cloaks that we must carefully clasp about us to hide ourselves from prying eyes until we reached the shore. They were a small burden to bear, yet I know it grated on Haldir, the need to slink away from Arda like wraiths in the night, carrying no lanterns, Ithil and the firmament of stars our only guides. The Fellowship stood with us, offering heartfelt well-wishes as we steeled ourselves to depart.

Methentaurond is now yours," Haldir declared in parting, bowing slightly to Marian and including the Fellowship with a sweep of his arm, "Keep it safe and well." Marian and the others bowed deeply in return.

"No longer shall we dwell in Death's Shadow," Haldir then turned and anounced emotionally. "No longer shall we be as shadows of regret before the younger race that has come after. Tonight, we make for the Sea and, the Valar willing, from thence to the Blessed Realm."

Each of us, with a last look as we turned and passed through the entrance and the massive mallorn doors into the night, some wistful, some eager, some grieving, bid Methentaurond namarie.

Haldir led us through the narrow fern canyon and into the crisp, clear spring night, stopping on the rock outcropping that overlooked the pool of the Linluin. Below us the waters lay dark and slumbering, reflecting the few stars whose positions in the indigo sky allowed their light to penetrate the interlaced canopy of redwoods above. Although I knew not what his mind saw as he gazed a moment at the far side of the pool, I saw him squeeze Marian's hand. Some silent message passed between them. Each of us stopped for a moment before the sacred pool in silent farewell, and followed Haldir into the forest.

Much of that first night Haldir spent away from Marian by necessity, leading us onward, sending scouts ahead, of which I was one as my turn came, and inspecting us with military precision as we passed down the trail, making sure that we were all cloaked completely and that none were having difficulty carrying our minimal belongings. A blindfolded Mason, with Dieter and two elves as his guards and guides in the dark, were placed squarely in the middle of our ranks. Allinde's palfrey was carried near the front, draped by Vanimé with the same fabric as our cloaks and attended by Lomion and Lindir. Marian and I walked not far behind them.

"So tell me," I led into the subject skillfully as I walked for a time with Marian, guiding her through the darkness by the arm so she would not falter, "was it good?"

"Was what good?" she whispered back. As if she didn't know.

"IT," I emphasized unnecessarily.

"Rumil, honestly!" she hissed so that the moving shadow in front of us that was Orodren turned and motioned us to lower our voices. "Sorry. Would YOU want someone talking about such private things to others?" she continued in as low a whisper as any mortal could manage. "Oh, wait, what am I thinking. Of course you would."

"Only if it was complimentary," I clarified. "I see you do not deny the event."

'Somehow, Rumil, I have to believe that you already knew that. Now shush, and quit breathing in my ear."

"Well, was it?" I added after a short detour around a fallen tree. Marian was such a delight to tease.

"Was it what?" she growled.

"Complimentary?"

"That's it. The next time we stop I'm walking with Allinde."

"So am I," I said with enthusiasm.

"Great."

We did not stop often. Marian kept apologizing that she, Dieter and Mason were slowing us down in the dark, but this was not entirely true. We proceeded slowly so as not to jar Allinde. When we did stop Marian was true to her word and moved to Allinde's side. Lindir did not welcome her, but neither did he deny her.

There are only a few entries made in Marian's journal of this time of journeying. Perhaps she feared I would discover it; perhaps she was too weary or too heartbroken at Haldir's impending departure. Perhaps she wished to focus all of her waking moments on him, and on Allinde. I do not know. What I do know is that she attended to Allinde with a fierceness that nearly matched that of her love for my brother. It was this devotion, I believe, that finally warmed the cool heart that Lindir had turned toward her, and over the days that followed they slowly mended their friendship.

i

March 19

Thank goodness the sky has been clear so far, and the moon will soon be full. If it hadn't been then I, Dieter and Mason would have had to rely exclusively on clinging to some poor elf's arm to find our way.

I can only follow Allinde's palfrey through the narrow half-trails in the forest that we take during the night. It's when we stop to rest during the day that we can talk and I can help her and Lomion in small ways: A drink of water, a shifting of her bedding, a bite of food. I feel so helpless that I can't do more. I hope that the ships will come in time to save her. I think that Lindir also believes that if she reaches the ships, she will soon be herself again, though he hasn't told me so. She's much too precious to be lost to us all. Allinde is an amazing elf. She lies half-faded and weak, yet she thinks of everyone but herself. Just moments ago she urged me again to make peace with Lindir. If I don't, she said loud enough for him to hear, we'll both be haunted by our estrangement after Lindir leaves. Lindir looked at me for the first time since she became ill with a thoughtful, rather than a resentful eye. It gives me hope that we'll be able to part as friends.

No one besides Allinde has said anything about my night with Haldir – except Rumil - though I'm sure it's no secret. Every time I look at him, my heart sings and cries at the same time. Whenever we catch each other's eye, the memory of last night passes between us. Allinde took one look at me when we gathered last evening and weakly whispered, "You and our Lord Haldir are both glowing tonight, Marian," with a knowing smile. I thought Vanimé might protest, but whatever she thinks, she hasn't told me. I might conclude that elves stay out of each other's personal business. Maybe someone should mention that to Rumil.

/i

i

March 22

We reached the meadow an hour after dawn. The sky became cloudy, but Orodren declared by the smell of the air that it won't rain today. Haldir decided that we will rest below the trees until dusk. His order was a relief - I was exhausted. I'm always exhausted by the time it becomes light: struggling to find our way in the dark is tiresome for Dieter and Mason as well. I write for a few moments if I can, and sleep the instant my head touches the ground.

The past two afternoons when I have woken up Haldir has been there curled around me, warm and possessive. This hasn't elicited undue interest, and I've noticed that those around us who are no more than good friends commonly share the same arrangement. I hope that Haldir will do the same each day. I don't have much opportunity to be near him while we are traveling. He lay behind me concealed in his cloak, covering his face with his hood still as we all must do to avoid detection from the skies above. The elves mourn that they aren't free to lift their faces to the stars, I can tell - they love them so: especially the bright one they call Elendil, which I think must be the North Star. Only the scouts have been allowed to do so, one at a time and only in need. Haldir is taking no chances at being discovered.

Rumil won't give up trying to pry little tidbits out of me about sleeping with Haldir. It's become a game that helps me forget for a few moments at a time that we're coming ever closer to goodbye. I should kick him he's so relentless, but I learned years ago that "Jason" could anticipate my intentions – he's much too quick for me.

/i

i

March 23

Last evening just before dusk we passed the rift in the forest where Bruno found the jewel. It's already overgrown and almost unrecognizable, where the earth shifted. I miss that big dumb dog with his big padded feet and his endless grin. I don't suppose I'll ever stop blaming myself that he's gone.

Once it gets really dark, of course, I hardly recognize anything – just the redwood forest all around us, cool and breezy and comforting in a strange, ancient way, with the moonbeams gently reaching for the forest floor. It helps calm my heart, a little. It reminds me that the world is larger than just this moment, more profound than just my immediate wants and needs. The elves have to go, and Haldir must take them. It matters not a bit that I scream out in my mind – don't leave me!

/i

i

March 25

Last night was foggy and damp, and difficult to see ahead. The elves took a turn in our path at the break of dawn that felt entirely wrong. Haldir stopped us not long after. He spread the word quietly that this was where we would part ways with Dieter and Mason. We said our awkward goodbyes, Mason and I. He told me he would keep our secrets. I don't know whether to believe him or not. I hope Dieter is careful of him.

I made my way past several elves to ask Haldir what was happening. We were going further south, he told me after Dieter and Mason had disappeared through the fog, than the trail I was used to. But there were more people further south, I blurted out in concern, though I knew he was aware of this. Rumil hissed and took one very large step away from me. The silent elves around me grew somehow even more silent. Lord Haldir straightened to his full height, towering over me, and told me haughtily that I was to follow him. Then he sanctimoniously turned on his heels and strode away as though my obedience was a given, which of course it was. Even the feathers on the arrows in his quiver seemed stiffer than a moment ago. Arghhhh! Pride! Elves! Will I ever learn?

/i

One morning as we stopped to rest, I succeeded in nudging Marian into an admission about Haldir. I made sure the others were absorbed in other things and that she was quite tired before I approached her about the subject.

"Fine!" she gave in. "Here's all I'm going to tell you, and I mean all," she whispered sternly. "If you're half as good as your brother in bed then I've made a huge mistake turning you down all of these years."

"Half as good?" I protested as she turned her back on me to throw rocks and sticks out of her way and roll out her bedding. "HALF AS GOOD?" How insulting.

I knelt down next to her to straighten her sleeping bag. "What, specifically, do you erroneously believe I am half as good at as Haldir?" I asked in a wounded voice.

"Uh-uh, Rumil," Marian warned, and sat down with an exhausted thump. "You probably listened to the whole thing anyway."

"Marian!" I jerked back from her in shock. "Do you truly think I would do such a thing?"

Plainly Marian thought she had gone too far. "I'm sorry." She quickly sat up and apologized, taking my hand in hers and squeezing it worriedly. 'Of course you wouldn't do that to me or your brother. I'm so sorry, Rumil, I didn't mean it, please forgive me."

"I forgive you," I said piously, and stood to leave, as I was one who had the first watch. I realized with a mild amount of guilt that she was quite upset.

"Of course, the caverns DO echo," I commented to myself, appearing to be absorbed with adjusting the string of my bow. "Do they not, Gladrel?" I glanced at her settling in not far away from Marian.

"What? Oh, why yes, they do," Gladrel replied, catching on instantly.

Marian's mouth dropped in horror.

"You are so gullible," I lamented, and instinctively ducked. It was fortunate for me that I did.

i

March 26

In spite of Rumil's attempts at good humor and the resilience of the elves, regardless of the eagerness of most of the elves to reach the Sea, we are a melancholy sight. Or we would be, if anyone could look closely enough, learn to shake off whatever magical trick of the eye makes the elves pass silently and almost invisibly through the forest. Cloaks drawn about themselves and hoods over their heads, the elves appear as no more than shadows among the velvety night among the trees. Shadows of regret, Haldir had called himself and them. It is a far different thing than the faint and wondrous glow of Lindir, Gladrel and the other elves I traveled with to reach Methentaurond, and much sadder to my eyes.

We have emerged from the edge of the forest into the open. There is a distinct air of both heightened caution and excitement about the elves. Despite how insistently they're drawn forward, how their pace through the slumbering forest quickens, they will stay in the protective arms of the woods tonight.

The last fading moonlight before the dawn has revealed to our sight what the elves, and eventually I, have smelled and heard in the night, what I have always loved but now dread to finally see: A long slope of tan grassland with scattered trees and mounds of pale rock;; a heavy, salty dampness in the air; below, a dark thin ribbon of what must be the highway; a few scattered house lights dotting the meadows; grassy bluffs segregated by dark rows of cypresses marching toward the West, and there! If I raise my gaze and look furthest - gray under the blue-gray sky the color of Haldir's eyes, echoing the braying of sea lions and the sharp calls of gulls with the first light of dawn bright on their white bellies; sparkling with the fading reflections of moonlight, booming low and insistent – lay the vast, rolling expanse of the Pacific.

/i

From the song "Into the West", from the Lord of the Rings Return of the King Soundtrack, sung by Annie Lennox

Paraphrased from The Silmarillion, by J.R.R. Tolkien