Chapter 7

The weeks away from Hylin had been long. Haldir's jaw clenched at the memory of her calling after him when he fled their last encounter. He had ignored her; he had too. Even now as he was walking to her flet, Haldir was aware of walking toward a terrible and weighty choice. His chest felt tight, and his face grew more stern as he prepared himself mentally. He would be ready for her. She would be hurt, angry about her abandonment. That would make it easier to keep her at arm's length.

Celeborn had not explained his choice to teach Hylin their language and Haldir asked for no explanation. It was his duty to obey the Lord's orders, but there was a knowing expression in Celeborn's eyes that told Haldir there would be no way of avoiding this task. Not that he wanted to be away from the girl, he found himself walking near her flet even when he tried to avoid it. He strained often to hear her voice float down from the flet, but the windows shut tight against the winter, had stolen even that from his keen ears.

He tucked his hair behind his ear as he walked. It had felt like fire where she had touched him that day. Her simple curiosity had unconsciously lit a fire that he had not be able to fully extinguish since. But quenched it must be. The sooner the better for both of them.

He was early for the lesson so when he stepped into the flet, Roswyth was absent and Hylin was curled up on the couch pouring over one of her books. She was wrapped up in a thick blanket and her hair was tumbled down her back. She looked rosy with the warmth of the room, and she looked the healthiest Haldir had ever seen her. Laying open to a picture, the book on her lap, was clearly depicting some elven figure of the distant past, and she traced the brilliant illumination with a fingertip.

Suddenly she became aware of being watched and Hylin glanced up. Her grey eyes drank in the sight of him, paused in the threshold. He looked hesitant, cautious, a few books under one arm. His dark eyes met hers and whatever he had expected from her melted away, as Hylin smiled softly and held out her hand to him.

"Oh, I have missed you!"

He was a fool.

He was by her side, taking the offered hand, looking down at her sweet upturned face. Her eyes, so often ready for a fight, were wide and soft as she took in his face.

"I am sorry I have been away," he answered quietly.

"None of that matters now," she smiled softly. "Come sit by me."

No fight. No accusations. No tumble of tears, just warmth and affection. He released the clasp of his cloak and sat gingerly on the edge of her couch.

"Do you understand what you are reading?" he asked.

"I have a feeling I don't," She admitted ruefully, "Not doubt you can enlighten me?"

Haldir felt the tightness in his chest melt away as he sat beside her, and taking the book, explained the story of Prince Fingon, father of King Gil-Galad, who Haldir had once seen long ago. Hylin listened intently, her eyes never straying from Haldir's face, as if she was afraid he might vanish from sight. He read the entire story, translating as he went. When he wasn't turning a page, Haldir held her hand in his, the long fingers roughened by war, gently clasping the soft, contours of hers.

Hylin felt her heart hammering in her chest as his nearness. The absence that been so long, the time felt so great that he had been away, she could hardly believe he was with her now. The air was warm between them, thick with tension and many unspoken words. Hylin's head spun with all that she wanted to say, what she wanted him to say, but it all came to nothing. Nothing more than his hand holding hers, his voice reading the sing-song elvish story. The moment might have gone on forever, if the spell had not been broken, by Roswyth arriving with a gust of cold air.

Her face was stunned at the romantic scene that greeted her eyes, but it vanished in an instant as Haldir stood.

"Why, I see you've come early, my lord," she greeted Haldir, "Come Hylin, you must be made proper. Excuse us."

She bustled Hylin away from him, tucking her into the next room where only a murmur of conversation reached his ears. When they reappeared a few minutes later, Hylin's hair was braided away from her face and instead of her blanket around her shoulders, a warm over dress kept the cold at bay. Roswyth, with her face under her control again, moved to her usual chair to the side of the room. Taking her needlework in her hands, the elven maid made no fuss about what she might have seen when she arrived.

"Roswyth is afraid you will be scandalized by my unbound hair," Hylin laughed as she came to him again. "Tis more seemly."

She saw he had been busy too. The small work table near her couch had been tidied into a neat study space. Her blank book had been prepared; a fresh pot of ink opened and a quill laid to the ready.

Haldir smiled ever so slightly as her comment, but directed her to a chair drawn to the table instead, "Best to have it out of your eyes for study, no doubt."

Haldir directed her to her studies then, showing her all of the elvish alphabet and how to properly form each letter. Her name was spelled next, the pronunciation and inflection patiently corrected by Haldir. Roswyth was the next victim to Hylin's haltering speech, and finally Haldir offered his name up to the slaughter and while she did her best, Hylin's beginning efforts ended in a jumble of poorly spoken elvish.

"Ah well," she sighed at last, "It is a beginning. I shan't learn overnight."

"No," he agreed, "Your understanding is solid even if your tongue has yet to master the sounds."

Hylin did not look up at him during this speech, but her cheeks grew rosy with pleasure.

"And now, it is time for rest and refreshment," Roswyth announced firmly, "Shall I call for dinner?" she asked Hylin.

"Ah yes, please," she answered gratefully. Hylin stood up and stretched her back slightly. She turned and put her hand on Haldir's arm, "You will stay and eat with us?"

"Not today," he replied, "But I will come again soon for another lesson. In the meantime, you may study these." He handed her a slim volume. Flipping through the pages, Hylin's brows furrowed.

"Is this a children's book?"

"Aye, it is," he affirmed.

Hylin sighed heavily, "I suppose it is all I am suited for now."

"It won't take long, I promise you. You shall be speaking like a native before too long." He took her hand in a defiant gesture and pulled her close to whisper, "I won't be away long melin órë."

"Please don't," she replied, "I don't know that I could bear it again."

Then he was gone into the winter evening. Hylin wrapped her arms around herself to suppress the shiver that prickled across her skin when Haldir's hand had touched her.

"An instructive evening," Roswyth mused aloud.

"Aye, indeed," Hylin echoed.

H&H

Later that night, as Roswyth was brushing out Hylin's hair, she combed through the pages of the children's volume.

"You know I have never seen any children in Lothlorien." Hylin mused.

"Na, and you won't" Roswyth replied softly.

"There aren't any, are there?"

"There haven't been children in Lothlorien since ages past," Roswyth said sadly, "And I doubt we shall see them any time soon. You are by far the closest to a child we have in the wood."

"Is that why everyone calls me child or little sister?" Hylin asked.

Roswyth smiled as she pulled the brush through her hair again, "Ah yes. You are very young."

Hylin bite her lip and took a deep breath, "Am I seen as totally a child?"

"As totally a child?"

"I mean, I am old enough to wed." Hylin explained hurriedly, "I am a woman; not a child."

Roswyth only paused a moment in her actions before she answered, "It is understood. It is understood as your origins are understood."

"My origins?" Hylin was suddenly guarded.

"Yes, you are obviously a Lady born and bred. Though you have not trusted us enough to reveal yourself to us, it is known you must be a princess of your people."

Hylin did not answer.

"When you say it is known..."

"Haldir deciphered it first. But it was soon obvious from your manners and speech that he was correct." Roswyth laid the brush to one side and gently rook Hylin's shoulders in her hands, "We are no enemies to you. After all the care we have had of you, you must know that."

Hylin covered one of her hands with her own, "I do know it. I am –afraid."

"Surely you know you are safe here?"

Hylin twisted to face her companion, "I truly understand, and if there was a way for me to explain myself without—exposing others, then I would tell all."

Roswyth nodded toward where the ring lay against Hylin's night dress, "You worry for the one who gave you this?"

Hylin grabbed it, "I- I cannot say anything more. But you must know I am your true friend."

Roswyth smiled and pressed Hylin's hand between her own. "I know it."

The elleth stood and gestured, "Come, you must sleep. There will be time enough for conversation tomorrow."

"And studies," Hylin agreed sliding between the covers, "I want to have mastered today's lesson by the time Haldir returns."

"No doubt you will," Roswyth agreed, "Just one question, Lady."

"What is it?"

"In this other life you protect, are you wed?"

Hylin's cheeks flamed scarlet, "What? No, of course not!"

"Forgive me," Roswyth demurred, "I meant nothing by it."

Hylin sat up in bed, "Is it because of—is it because of Haldir?" A horrified expression rippled across her face, "By the gods, he is not married, is he?"

Roswyth burst out laughing, "Oh my word, no. No, Haldir is not wed. Unless it is to his loyalty to his liege Lord and Lady. Duty is at the heart of Haldir of Lorien."

Hylin nodded, "He is very loyal. I think, he is a good man."

Roswyth sat on the edge of Hylin's bed, "Aye he is. The best."

The women studied each other's faces a several long minutes in silence, nothing but the crackle of the fire to break the quiet.

"What does melin órë mean?" Hylin whispered.

Roswyth gasped softly, "Dear heart. It means dear heart."