Elves Do It Better
Warnings: Explicit content, discussion of suicide and suicidal tendencies, violent scenes and physical injury
Disclaimer: I own nothing connected with either LotR or Twilight. They belong entirely to their respective owners
Bella slept for what felt like days, at peace, and at all times she was aware of Haldir nearby, watching over her protectively.
She was still weak and her stomach ached with a fiery pain whenever she moved, but one day she awoke and she was no longer senseless. She opened her eyes to the white canopy above her and realised she was in some kind of pavilion, a sweet breeze blowing through, teasing her senses. Her head was supported by deep pillows, and she only needed to tilt her head to look in front of her.
She was indeed in some kind of pavilion, or so she thought but her first thoughts about the roof were wrong. While the walls were no doubt canvas, the ceiling was wooden, and seemingly glowed; not golden like Rivendell but with an icy radiance, sylvan and ancient. Everything seemed to shine with light and purity, even her own hand when she raised it. She had never noticed how transparent her own skin was, how fragile it looked. All the scars of their month long journey had been washed away, and her hair felt silky to the touch.
The bed Bella laid in was low slung, and as far as she could tell, had no back or sides but she felt in no danger of falling out, surrounded by pillows and blankets as she was. A small, beautifully and intricately carved table stood nearby, a bowl heaped with fruit and a carafe of water stood upon it. Her pack was slung against a chest made of some clean white wood, plain but serviceable, her knife lying atop it, in its scabbard. A rug of some fine, silvery thread lay upon the wooden floor, and she forced herself to rise, wincing as the movement pulled at her wound.
"You are awake," a voice murmured, and she looked around to see the same tall, golden-haired Elf she had glimpsed when, half delirious and only just healed, she had arrived in Lothlórien. "You must be careful not to exert yourself overmuch."
He moved forward, his grey and white robes sliding gracefully over the grey floor of her room, as he bent over Bella and rearranged her coverlet. Bella slumped back, tired again as she gazed up at the foreign Elf. She had met many in Rivendell, and more since during her journey among the Galadhrim but this one held a power within him she had recognised in Lord Elrond and Lady Galadriel, his deep eyes, ancient and wise, strength in the line of his jaw and the clean, mighty lines of his body. There was a sensuality, in his look and voice, also that Lord Elrond did not share, and it made her quiver, not with desire, not like Haldir, but with a thrill like dipping her toes into a cold river.
"Who are you?" she breathed, as he smoothed the coverlet over her shoulders.
"I am Celeborn, Lord of this realm and husband to the Lady Galadriel, whose life you saved. I owe you a great debt for that," he smiled at the young woman gravely, but there was a twinkle in his eyes. Bella looked down, at the coverlet, embroidered with many intricate patterns, so complex and yet simple it hurt her eyes to attempt to follow them.
"There's no debt, my Lord. Any one of the others would have done the same," she replied, and he inclined his mighty head.
"Indeed, but they did not have the chance. You did. It was a brave and noble deed but I see my talking of this upsets you, young one," he stopped, noticing her embarrassment. Gentle fingers on Bella's chin steadily drew it up, until she had no choice but to look into Lord Celeborn's deep eyes. "Do not flinch from your deeds, if they are worthy of praise, Alphwen. You saved our Lady, my wife and dearest heart of many millennia, and for that I am grateful."
She nodded, as gracefully she could, and fidgeted slightly beneath the blankets. Lord Celeborn eyed her piercingly.
"Where am I?" Bella asked, finally, unable to stand anymore of his scrutiny. And she had thought Lord Elrond had been bad!
"Caras Galadhon, the chief dwelling within our realm. We set up the pavilion on your talan so you may not feel so daunted by the height, until you grow used to it. Tomorrow, if you are better, you shall see the city, a little, but for now, rest, Lady Alphwen. Rest," the Elven Lord replied, with a gentle smile and a hand across her brow. Bella opened her mouth to ask about Haldir, who she had noticed was not with them, nor could she sense him nearby, but her weariness was still deep and she sank back into blissful oblivion.
When next Bella awoke, she was alone still and so she lay still and thought about the events of the past few weeks. She had half-expected some kind of nightmare after her encounter with the Orcs in Dimrill Dale but it seemed Lothlórien did not allow any such malady to befall her inhabitants.
It was called the Dreamflower after all.
She hadn't felt such peace for a long time, and she luxuriated in it for a while. But dark thoughts soon interrupted her, and they all centred on Haldir.
Where was he? Was he well?
She didn't remember him being injured in the skirmish against the Orcs but…no, she would feel it if he were hurt. The bond they shared was still a mystery but that much she did know. She would feel it.
She loved him, she loved him so much it hurt like a great, open cut when he was not near her, when she could not feel him as distinctly as she had. For one month, he had been a constant in her life, on the road to Lórien, but now he was gone and she missed him. Bella cursed her own foolishness, her selfishness. Perhaps he had realised that she would not so easily crumble to his desire for her, that she would hold firm despite their frenzied, passionate, revealing reunion after the battle, before she was stabbed. Perhaps he had given up…
She should have felt relieved at such a prospect but instead it made her feel cold, weak. The journey had revealed much, had changed much but not how she felt she must resist him, for his sake and her own. She had to.
But then he appeared at the entrance to her pavilion
He was not dressed in his usual tunic and cloak, but in a set of short, twilight blue robes, from under which she could see his breeches and boots, the neck clasped with a brooch shaped like a leaf. His golden hair was braided back, as always, and his eyes seemed to burn as he looked at her, and her heart burst into full flame.
Oh God, how could she do this? How could she resist this, resist him?
"Bella," he breathed her name like a caress, and she shivered. "How are you faring?"
"I'm better, thank you," she replied, quietly. He answered her unspoken questions as he came towards the bed.
"I apologise for my absence, but I was needed at the borders to co-ordinate our wardens, should any more Orc rabble issue from Moria. The Lord and Lady also wished to hold counsel," he explained, and she nodded, trying to be cool. He eyed her for a moment, then smiled rakishly, and sat down beside her. "How is your wound?"
"Better," she replied. "Lord Celeborn intimated I might see some of the city today," I continued, her fear and desire drowned for the moment beneath excitement and curiosity. Haldir smiled at her, and all her problems came flooding back.
"I would enjoy taking you, if you would let me," he whispered, and her eyes widened. Did he mean…? Haldir eyed her shock, and then smirked wickedly. "I meant around the city, although…"
"Haldir," Bella began sternly, sitting up as gracefully as she could "This cannot be…"
"You're not imagining that you can attempt to pull back from us, are you, my lady?" he began warningly, reaching for her hand and kissing her knuckles gently. She inhaled sharply, wanting to pull her hand away but unable to. Not because of him, but because of her and her traitorous heart and body. "Not after all we have seen, and done, and known now?"
"Haldir, please," she whispered, looking away. She felt any levity in him drain away, and he turned her chin back to look at him, so she was unable to avoid his dark gaze.
"Bella, you are mine and I love you. That is not something you wish to ignore," he murmured, and her skin shivered with the desire and the need behind his words. "That is not something that will fade, or die. I will not tire of you-"
"I know you will not. I accept that," she interrupted him firmly, "but other facts remain the same. I am mortal, I will die! Why will you not grasp this!?"
"Because I don't care. And not all may be as you think," he told her forcefully, but she skipped over that mystical statement. She didn't have time for it now.
Bella was fast losing the will to resist, and she looked down while murmuring his name. "Haldir…"
"Tell me, Bella," he tilted her head back up, gently but inexorably, so she had no escape. "Do you love me?"
She should have lied. But she could not.
"Yes," she whispered, and she could hear the strain in her voice. He still held her hand, and he kissed her knuckles again, while her hand of its own volition caressed his cheek. His lips drifted over her palm, and then her wrist, making her skin flush and her body pound with the throb of her own desire.
"Then say it," he commanded. "Say it, meleth nin."
"I love you," Bella breathed, and his breath shuddered against her palm. His lips left her hand, and she closed her eyes as his own hand flew for the nape of her neck, pulling her forward into his kiss. She could not resist, did not attempt to as she pulled herself closer, feeling the promise of his strong, lean body through the thin barrier of her shift. Her stomach wound twinged but she did not flinch, just slid her hands into his hair, barely aware of anything else but the twining of their tongues and the heat of his body as he lowered her to the bed. Somehow, her coverlet had disappeared, and there was no barrier left between their bodies, as his hips settled into the cradle of her thighs, perfect, natural. Oh God, she wanted him.
He broke from her lips, leaving her to frantically attempt to haul on the reins of their interaction and recover her wits, but he stole them again effortlessly as, her hands still buried deep in his golden hair, he trailed his lips down the line of her throat, as Bella arched and whimpered. His hands pulled down the neckline of her shift, pulling it partially down her shoulders so all of her collarbone and the rise of her breasts were revealed. His lips explored ardently, although he did not bare her entirely.
He didn't need to.
His lips devotedly explored the valley between her breasts, the ridge of her collarbone, tongue and teeth marking as he would, his hands hold himself above her so he did not place pressure on her wound. His lips placed one particularly hot, yearning kiss over the space where her heart beat thunderously, and his hand left her side to pull one of her legs up to his hip, so their bodies pressed together even harder than before, making Bella gasp his name.
He stilled, looking up at her, golden hair dishevelled, eyes alight with passion and love, as he leaned up to recapture her lips, and she gave in willingly. He hovered above her lips, holding her gaze ruthlessly.
"Do you still think you can deny this? Defy what is between us?" Haldir asked, as she panted for breath beneath him. But she did not lower her eyes, or look away; instead she watched him defiantly as he chuckled and bent his lips to her neck once more. Bella's eyes rolled back in her head, and she could not deny the urge to arch her spine, a fact he took advantage of to slide his hand beneath the small of her back and lift her closer to his body, as she felt all defiance burn away once more.
"My love," he breathed against the place where her pulse throbbed hotly, before trailing down the column of her neck, "My Isabella," he continued, until he came to the space between her breasts, where her heart pounded against her sternum. "Mine."
That last was whispered against her heart, and Bella felt it sink through and imprint itself there. She was Haldir's, and she knew it as he laid his head there, resting on her chest. She held him in a delirium of pleasure.
Bella felt his hand slide beneath her shift, up the line of her thigh, and she shivered as he raised his head. His eyes sparked, as she held him tightly in her body's embrace. There was only one way which she could hold him closer, and her body burned for it.
She burned for him.
"You are mine," he growled, his hand stopping just short of her hip, the cool air making her shiver deliciously. "As I am yours. I will not give up and one day, you will see that, and I will be waiting,"
Then he was gone, and Bella was left bereft, left alone with her desire, her throbbing heart and the pain in every cell of her body.
Later that morning, Bella felt completely and utterly depressed when she stirred from her bed. Movement from outside had awoken her, and she blinked at the cool sunlight. An elleth entered, clad in grey and silver, and she smiled as she came towards her, golden hair gleaming in the ethereal sunlight.
"Good afternoon, Lady Alphwen," she murmured in greeting, as Bella noticed she held a bright purple bundle in her arms. "My Lord and Lady bid you good morning, and ask if you would join them in my Lady's garden today?"
Bella sat up slowly, her strength still lacking, and nodded. "I'd be delighted."
Anything to get up, and find some distraction from Haldir. After he had departed, Bella had lain in a stupor of depression and anguish, until sleep gave her a few hours reprieve from the conflict between heart and mind. Now it came rushing back, and Bella was desperate for distraction.
The elleth smiled and held out the bundle in her arms. "A gift from the Lady. A token of her gratitude for saving her life."
Bella blushed and shook her head. "No, I couldn't, really. It was really just a stupid thing to do, please…" she stammered, as the elleth stared at her, a wry smile on her lips.
"Is saving a life the act of a fool?" she asked, clearly a rhetorical question. Bella said nothing, her cheeks a deep scarlet. "You will find, my lady Alphwen, that more than a dress will soon be offered to you in gratitude. Do not hide from noble deeds, and saving a life is the noblest deed of all."
She held out the dress again, and Bella took it, feeling slightly ashamed and graceless. She smiled, the perfume of her gold hair surrounding her as she took her hand.
"I am Silwen," she introduced herself cheerfully. "And I am happy to meet you."
"Please call me Bella," she replied. "It was my name before everyone started calling me Alphwen."
"It suits you," Silwen said, as Bella laughed. "Both names do. Well, I have other tasks to see to. I hope we may meet again in the coming days?"
"Yes, I'd like that," Bella murmured. "And Silwen? Thank you."
She laughed and glided away, while she began to sing to herself, a gentle, lilting voice that made Bella want to weep. The mortal looked down at the bundle Silwen had given her, and stretched it out on her bed.
And promptly gasped.
The gown was a perfect, bright amethyst, the sleeves and waist bound with gold thread. The long sleeves fell to the gown's hem, the velvety material shining in the light, the gauze of the sleeves looking like brightly dyed ocean foam. It slid over her head like silk, clinging to her frame, light as gossamer. Bella combed her hair, and made sure the swan pendant Arwen had given her was secured around her neck, before deeming herself fit to meet the Lord and Lady of the Galadhrim.
Bella walked out of the pavilion, surprised to see up close and personal, the trunk of a great, silver tree, its leaves forming a living roof of shining silver over her head. Through gaps in the leaves, she could see the clear blue sky above.
She walked forward to touch it, her hand surprised to find it warm beneath her fingers, not cool like she had expected it to be. She could almost feel a tangible pulse beneath her palm, like a throbbing rhythm of life within the tree.
"It's called a mallorn," a familiar voice said, as Bella spun around, surprised. Lady Galadriel stood behind her, clothed in shining white, the Lord Celeborn beside her, clad in iridescent silver. "A descendant of Telperion, from my home in the Far West."
"It's beautiful," Bella murmured, turning back to look at its silver bark. "This whole place is beautiful."
"We're glad you think so," Lord Celeborn replied gently. "Come."
"Where is Haldir?" Bella asked, wondering that she couldn't feel him in her mind. There was a wall there now.
"He has returned to his duties at the borders," Lady Galadriel informed her gently, and she nodded, not wanting to feel the pain inside her, the agony of his departure. It was like Edward all over again.
Lord Celeborn took Bella's arm and guided her down the long, coiling stairways, letting her rest a few times as she strength faltered, the Lady Galadriel a comforting presence behind her.
At last, they reached the forest floor, and Bella gaped back up, to where they had come, and the emerald city of trees they had just left, a maze of walkways, flets and of course the almost palace like creation of wood she had been housed in.
Lady Galadriel and Lord Celeborn's house. Not that Bella would call it a house. More like a palace made out of gleaming white wood.
The grass was studded with little golden, star-shaped flowers, called elanor,the Lothlórien elves singing above their heads. The few they met on the forest floor bowed low to the Lord and Lady, and then to Bella, making her blush.
When Lady Galadriel noticed her discomfort, she laughed gaily. "You must allow us to honour you, Isabella," she told the young woman gently. "Accept it as you would a gift; with good grace."
"I'm just not used to it, that's all," she looked down, as they entered a small, sunken dell, the stone steps cool beneath her bare feet, the tinkling of a small waterfall the only sound. The floor was dotted with more elanor and niphredril, gently undulating like a sea of emerald green until it reached a stone dais, where a graceful column of carved stone stood, and atop it, a plain silver basin.
Bella stopped, as a feeling of something almost holy washed over her. This was a sacred place, inviolable and almost timeless, even more so than either of the Elven realms that she had seen.
The Lady Galadriel caught her looking at the basin, and smiled inscrutably.
"I brought you here, Isabella Swan, to ease your fears, and answer the questions I know you must have," she explained gravely, as Bella turned to her. "Look into the Mirror, and you may find the answers you seek."
Bella stared at her, before she sensed Lord Celeborn leave her side, and her gaze returned to the basin. Hesitantly, she stepped up, the Lady beside her, until she reached the stone dais and the basin.
"Beware," the Lady whispered to Bella. "The Mirror is a guide, and what you will see may have many meanings. There are many futures and many pasts, and the paths connecting them are treacherous."
"I understand," Bella nodded, before she turned and looked into the basin. Its surface was flat, still, the water inside like a sheet of liquid silver. she looked, it rippled, forming images and Bella gasped.
A dark-haired girl, quiet, clutching her books and her schoolbag in hands, as she was pinned by a black gaze…
Bella.
Surrounded by drunken thugs, as a silver Volvo spun around the corner of the dark street…
Standing in a meadow, in front of a boy shining like a diamond…
James biting her wrist…
Jasper lunging for her with black murder in his eyes…
Edward tearing her heart in two…
Jake. Phil. Renee. Charlie. Esme. Carlisle. Jasper. Alice. Emmet. Rosalie. Angela. Jess. Mike. Eric. Edward…
'So many losses, Swan Maiden…'
That voice again.
Another image, that of a crossroads, veiled in mist, but Bella could see one was shrouded in darkness, the other in golden sunlight.
And then herself, her face, changed as it was…
'A choice…'
'What choice?'
'Thou hast made a choice, Swan Maiden, a choice to live…'
Bella felt herself gasp, as a steadying arm held her upright, but she could not look away.
Haldir, her strong, beloved Haldir, smiling, with a young elleth in his arms, dark-haired, slender, strong and lily white.
She looked like Bella.
A child…their child, golden haired and doe eyed. More children, a life of bliss stretching on into eternity…
'But I will die.'
'No, Swan Maiden. The choice thou hast made, as thou lay dying from that Orc's knife, the choice to live, to fight, to love, it has brought thee here. It has given thee the life of the Eldar.'
'I don't understand… I made no choice…'
'But thou hast made it. Now thou need to understand the choice.'
'Who are you?'
'A guide, young Swan Maiden, and a protector. You have a soul of fire, Alphwen of Rivendell and Lothlórien, and a pure heart. Do not allow fear to dim either, nor hold on to the belief that you are unworthy of love.'
Bella came back to herself with a gasp, leaning over the basin, trembling, Lord Celeborn's arm supporting her weakened knees but she still fell to the grass.
She looked to the Lady, her hands still shaking as she knelt before me, taking Bella's hands in hers.
"I know what it is you saw," she told her softly. "And I know what it is you fear."
"I don't understand, my Lady. What choice have I made? What is happening to me?" Bella gasped, in confusion and fear.
"You were brought here, Isabella, and given a great gift. Because of the bond you share with Haldir, you possessed the choice to forsake the Doom of Men, and bind yourself to Haldir, or to retain your mortality, although you would have had a greater span of years than many Children of Men," she explained. Bella frowned.
"But I have made no choice-" she began to reply, before the Lady shook her golden head, interrupting her denial.
"Nay, Isabella. You made the choice, unconsciously perhaps, first, from the moment you accepted your love for Haldir, and second, when you chose to fight the Orc poison from the knife " she continued. "You have seen it for yourself, Isabella. Your reflexes, your strength, even your face and movement…all have changed. You may still have the rounded ears of a mortal," she whispered to her, touching them caressingly. "But you are more Elven than human now."
Bella frowned, and thought about all she'd said. It was true, she was stronger, faster, possessed of more energy, that she had surmised from her little sparring session with Haldir. Her facial features had changed, perhaps not quite so drastically as Lady Galadriel believed, but it was true she was no longer as clumsy as before. Compared to what she had been, she was positively grace incarnate.
As for the thought that she was immortal, like Haldir…
"All that separates you from him," the Lady's soft voice tore Bella from her thoughts, as she looked to her, almost beseechingly. "is your fear. Never fear love, Isabella. Love is the root of all true life on Arda, as sacred and as vital as breath."
Bella shuddered, but it was a good pain which suffused her, like poison lancing from a boil. She looked inwards, to the fear like a black shadow choking her, insidious and elusive, and cast it out. She would fear her heart no more.
But he was far away from her, and she could not reach him. Their bond was dim, and she didn't know how to get through to him.
"When will Haldir return?" Bella asked, looking to Lord Celeborn who still held her silently, his strength a prop for her own, still weakened, body.
"Not for some three months, when the next group of Wardens are chosen," he told her, and her heart sank. He helped her up, leading her to a small stone bench, set back in a natural alcove, the two great Elves sitting either side of her, almost like parents with their child.
The sensation was nice, comforting rather than intimidating.
"Haldir told me of your natural ability with knives," Lord Celeborn began, as Bella looked to him speculatively. "With your gift, and your newfound abilities in your new form, might I suggest training to become a Warden?"
"Me? A Warden?" Bella gaped at him, before she felt Lady Galadriel's white hand on her cheek.
"You have the courage, and in time, you will find the strength and the power you need. It will be difficult, since Wardens train for some years before selection, but I will help you. I will teach you the basic rudiments of healing, what you mortals would call magic and other skills you will find useful," she explained. "Some you possess already."
Bella looked at her, head cocked, her interest piqued.
"Isabella, few among Elves, Mortals or Istari can close their minds against me and keep it so. You do it without conscious thought, without even knowing you are doing it. It may be we can harness your mind's gifts in other ways," she continued, and Bella nodded, her interest peaked, and ever so slightly amazed that she could keep the Lady out of her mind, apparently without even trying.
Would it be the same if she had become a vampire?
Bella flinched away from that thought. It was time to let go of that thought, of the lost future that went with it. She said goodbye to it, with a pang deep within, but it was a good pang.
Just another bit of poison being lanced from her soul, and Bella welcomed it.
"As soon as your wound has healed, I will introduce you to our best teacher in the arts of swordsmanship and archery. I myself shall help you, when our duties allow it," Lord Celeborn added, and Bella stared at the great Elven Lord, dumbstruck.
But as she looked down at her hands, new strength filled her, hope buoyed her once more. The idea of being a Warden, of protecting Lothlórien and its people, of doing something useful with her life, of repaying every kindness and scrap of trust the Lady Galadriel, Lord Celeborn and Haldir had ever placed in her began to pulse inside her, with fervour.
Yes. She would cast off the fear and the memories of a lost life, she would prove myself useful to Lothlórien, to Lady Galadriel, to Lord Celeborn, to Lord Elrond, to Arwen, and most importantly, to Haldir.
She would prove herself worthy of his love, and just maybe she would finally accept it too. Edward had been wrong about her, she was strong, she was worthy of the love of an immortal. In time, Bella knew she would, at last, accept that fact.
And when she did, she would meet Haldir again with open arms and an open heart.